Original Sin (The Order of Vampires 1)
Page 75
“What does a nurse practitioner do?”
Being that he’d never required a doctor, it made sense he didn’t know these things. “They can read lab tests and diagnose illnesses. They can do a lot and work in emergency care, or intensive care units, or even maternity wards.”
“Maternity?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Yeah.”
“And this is what you’re passionate about?”
Well, at the moment she was passionate about making a living. “It’s a lot of work.”
“But you enjoy learning.”
She nodded. “It’s interesting. I’d love to look at your blood under a microscope, but you said that’s a no-no. I just like helping people and I find biology fascinating.”
He smiled. “You could continue learning and be a midwife. We don’t have one and the women are often suggesting we find one. My mother...” His eyes shifted, clouding with emotion as his brow tightened. “She’s lost several babes. The Elders have no explanation for her condition. It’s uncommon, and if you could somehow help her...” He visibly swallowed. “I know she and my father would appreciate it. As would I.”
She wished she could help him. “I’m sorry, Adam. My training’s not that advanced. I know how to take vital signs and read charts, but I’m not a doctor.”
“While Amish orders don’t typically endorse education beyond eighth grade, there are always exceptions. There are Mennonite colleges. I could petition the Council and explain that you feel called to this field. Perhaps this was God’s will—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” She held up her hands. “You’re assuming too much and going way too fast. We haven’t even known each other a week.”
His head lowered. “I’d make you a good husband, Annalise. The first time I saw you, you were surrounded by a roomful of people, yet I sensed your loneliness. I would never abandon you. It would be my honor to spend eternity falling in love with you. I’d protect you, your heart, your soul, and God willing, I’d protect the lives of the children we create together.”
She needed air. Or water. Clearing her throat she looked away.
“I sense your weariness with the world, ainsicht.”
A lump formed in her throat and a tear rolled down her cheek. “That’s not fair. I’ve just been in a rut lately.”
His hand closed over hers. “What if everything you mistook for misfortune proved to actually to be a blessing? How many complications would this actually create in your life? You would have a family, a devoted husband to adore the ground you walk on, a home, security, and I’d see that you were able to practice your medicine in a way that’s fulfilling and gratifying to your soul.”
Her chin wobbled as he dangled so many illusive promises in front of her. “How would it happen?”
“The bonding?”
She nodded, knowing her curiosity might very well be the death of her—literally.
“First there is a ceremony, much like a wedding. Then we go somewhere private and complete the ritual.”
The ritual... The bonding... “But what happens? What is bonding?”
He hesitated and she realized this so-called bonding might not be as pleasant as they made it sound. “It’s a blood exchange.”
“I’m guessing that private place you mentioned isn’t a sterile room.”
His jaw ticked. “It would happen in a bed. Our bodies would come together like man and wife, and we would complete a blood ritual.”
Her legs itched to stand, possibly bolt through the door. She forced herself to take a deep breath. Some villages sacrificed goats, this one performed blood bonds during sex. “And then what happens?”
“You rest.”
“We swap blood and I just go to sleep?”
“The transfusion will tire your body. There’s no pain. It’s very peaceful.”
She scoffed. “How do you know? Have you done it?”
His mouth opened and he conceded. “I’m told there’s no pain.”
“But you don’t know for sure?”
“No. I was born as I am now. Only our called mates from different... backgrounds...” His words faded, as he seemed to struggle to find an elegant way around the truth. “When my blood mixes with yours, your cells will die off, and mine will regenerate inside of you.”
She preferred the facts. This was sort of like T-cell therapy for cancer patients. “What’s the success rate?”
“With called mates? Elke keer. Failure isn’t possible.”
Her shoulders lifted on a silent laugh. “Anything’s possible.”
“You take an optimistic position on failure but nothing else?”
“What do you expect? You’ve just blown my entire perception of life and death wide open,” she argued. “Pardon me if I’m reluctant to trust any more absolutes at the moment—especially when it’s my survival in question.”
“And mine.”
She frowned. “But if I do this you’d live, right?”
“Yes, but should anything happen to you, I would choose to follow you. Bonded mates do not do well apart.”
She drew in a long breath and sat back. “But no one’s died?”
“No. It’s a ritual that dates back to the first civilization.”
Her jaw unhinged. “You guys have been around that long?”