Everyone was very interested in my blood. Thanks to my healing injection, August made it back to a military hospital so the bullet could be removed and he could get stitched up without revealing anything to civilians. Now that he wasn’t receiving any of my blood, his healing rate more or less returned to normal. It was hard because none of the Seers had ever been shot, but August was convinced that the surgery wound was recovering faster than other injuries he’d received.

Bishop ordered me down to the infirmary so I could give more blood for even more tests. I’d come full circle, it felt, despite everything else I’d done so far. On my third vial of ‘donations’, a young, dark-haired, doctor came and sat down in front of me. “Hello, Specialist Delaney. I’m Doctor Richards. I’d like to ask you some questions if I may?”

“Don’t see as I have much choice, so knock yourself out.”

Chuckling, he said, “Well, we are all just doing our jobs.” He ran through a series of health-related questions I’d been asked so many times by now I could nearly repeat them verbatim. After asking about my smoking history and whether I’d been taking drugs, he hit me with a new one.

“How did you know your blood would heal Mr. Riley?”

My focus snapped back to the moment and I turned to look at him. He adjusted his glasses while holding his pen, waiting for me to respond.

“What? I had no idea my blood would heal him.”

He wrote something down. “Then why did you give him your blood?”

“Are these normal questions?” I asked.

Shrugging, he said, “It’s just the ones I’ve been asked to ask you.”

“Because he’d been shot and we had no proper medic and no supplies.”

Scratch, scratch went the pen. “Sure, but there were humans available.”

“Humans?” I said, heat blooming through my body.

He looked up from the clipboard with a seemingly innocent half-grin. “Sorry, I just meant there were other non-Changed that could have provided the blood. Why didn’t you get one of them to donate?”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

I looked down at the tube in my arm and contemplated yanking it out. “What fucking difference would it make?”

“Well, that’s just it, Specialist. We don’t know. You took a huge risk when you didn’t have to.”

My mouth hung open as I just couldn’t believe this guy. “Do all the doctors here have your bedside manners?”

His brow furrowed. “There’s no need to be rude. The higher-ups have questions for you. I’m just getting the information they asked for.”

“He was bleeding out on the floor of a soccer mom’s van. I’m O Negative. I didn’t need to ask anyone else, I had what he needed. I did what I had to do to save his life.”

The pen scratched against the paper.

“Besides, it’s not like he’s ‘human’ either, right?” I spat.

Doctor McRudeface stopped and looked up at me from the paperwork. His cheeks were red. “Specialist, I’m sorry if I caused offense,” he started.

“If? If? You just said I’m not human. How the fuck do you think that would make someone feel? Did you think it would make me happy?” I asked. Before he could answer, I looked over at the nurse that was standing nearby. “Can you finish this up?” I asked, indicating the blood donation. “I think he’s done here.”

“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to calm down.”

How many times had I heard that in my life? Everything was hot. My heart pounded in my ears and my head throbbed. How many times had some man with some shred of authority over me, decided they knew what I should be feeling? Fucking ‘calm down’.

Scratch, scratch, scratch went the pen. Ink running from it like the blood from my arm, its point digging into my patience and self-control.

“Sir,” the nurse asked, after the awkward silence, “Would you like me to take over?”

Shaking his head, he dismissed her. “No, I’m sure we are fine.” He continued writing. Then he looked up over his glasses at me. “I understand you’ve requested to be allowed to give a transfusion to a fellow soldier? You don’t want to be considered unfit for that, do you?”

I swallowed hard. My heart ran cold. The precipice opened before me. Slouching back in my chair, I shook my head. Glancing up at the nurse, I shook my head and said, “Nevermind. It’s okay.”

Without a second thought, I could put this guy’s head through a wall before anyone stopped me. I wanted to.

I could face terrorists and militia members without a problem. I could face angels.

But I didn’t dare face a bully with a pen.

Not if it might cost me my one chance at helping Claire.