By the time Madeleine arrived at her apartment to drop off Jean, the afternoon sun had lost its warmth. Her arm was throbbing. As she cleaned the wound, unhappy about the large gash, he looked at her expectedly.

“No, Jean. Yvette would kill me. I'll be back in a few hours – be good, alright?”

She walked towards the door and he jumped up with a yowl, sticking to her legs so closely that she almost tripped over him.

“I know, I know. Tomorrow, we’ll spend the whole day together, okay? Now enough with the pity party. Stay.”

He obeyed, his long tail bobbing up and down.

“Good drake,” she pulled him into a hug, scratching his ears, then left for the hospital. That was to say, she tried. Odette was a small town, yet by no means organized. The main road had a habit of splitting into several alleyways anytime Madeleine thought she had found her way. Slim lanes lead into passages overgrown with ivy, through long underpasses or up some promising stairs that turned into dead ends. Her only saving grace was the river snaking its way South towards the lakefront and town centre.

Unfamiliar with any other landmarks, Madeleine followed the canal as best as she could, changing the cloth on her arm as she walked. The smell of dinner wafted from the restaurants she passed. Her stomach growled. When she had finally found the white marble building housing the hospital, night had fallen. The light of the street lamps fell softly onto the cobbled Rue des Écoles.

The medic at the counter, first attentive at the sight of the bloodied cloth, relaxed back into his chair as he saw her pest control ID. “I was just wondering when we would see the first of your team.”

“Yeah, I’m the new regular.”

“Then I suppose I should say welcome home,” he chuckled and nodded towards the crowded waiting room. “Take a seat. You said it’s been around three hours since the injury, right? I’ll try to get someone out to you soon.”

All that happened soon, however, was Madeleine’s realization of how understaffed the hospital was. No wonder, considering Odette’s remote location. The major trade routes ran further North. Yet, despite the amount of work the staff had to shoulder, she was surprised by their warm demeanour. It was a world of difference from the big cities she was usually assigned to. Here, the medics greeted the patients by their first name, knowing exactly which family members to call, and what street the accident had happened on. A small-town community, as authentic as they came.

The claw wound throbbed. She drummed her fingers on the armchair, shifting in her seat. How she hated sitting around. Had the others made any progress with the sewer? Had the interviews revealed new hints? She killed some time by thinking about the ghouls and the ominous creature behind the murders. That occupied her for a good hour. Then, her stomach protested loudly. ‘Where’s my dinner?’ she imagined it screaming, stomping its feet like a toddler. Yet, there was no cafeteria or vending machine in sight. She focused on the sharp pulsing in her arm.

After a while, she had grown so used to the throbbing sensation that it moved to the back of her mind. Her eyelids got heavy. How long had she slept the night before? Had it been more than four hours? Madeleine doubted it. It was always the same pattern on the first campaign day. She had a feeling it was headquarters’ favourite pastime to assign a mere 24 hours for travelling to a new location, collecting the safety gear from the City Watch, finding the apartment and having a team briefing. Her thoughts wandered off until she could no longer follow.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“Madeleine?”, someone said in a deep voice.

She gave a jolt. “Just resting my eyes!”

Blinded by the bright lights, she squinted at the medic in front of her. Slowly, the world came into focus again. He wore a white coat and a warm smile that extended to his eyes. It accentuated his dimples. “I’m Claude. Follow me.”

Still a bit dazed, she complied, hurrying after him to keep up with his stride. He was at least two heads taller than her.

“Sorry about the wait. You were attacked by ghouls, correct?”, Claude asked as he entered an empty room, signalling her to take a seat on the examination table. The room smelled strongly of disinfectant. He sat down and rolled over on his chair, now at eye level, staring at her from underneath his round glasses. His eyes were a warm shade of brown, just like his tousled hair. Madeleine recalled the attack curtly, removing the cloth from the gash.

“The sewers of all places,” he wrinkled his nose. “May I?”

Despite the gloves, his hands were warm as he examined her arm. She used the chance to take a closer look at him. His high cheekbones and strong jawline drew her attention. There were shadows under his eyes. A fellow burner of the midnight oil, she thought, feeling a tinge of sympathy. He chewed on his lip as he scrutinized the gash.

“I’m glad you have washed it. You’ll need stitches. That cut on your face looks fine though,” he touched her cheek, then turned to retrieve his equipment. “I’ll clean both and get started on the stitches. When is your next shift?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“Good, make sure to get some rest before then,” he pushed up his glasses. “There are no free nurses, so this might take a little longer.”

“Busy week?”

“You could say that. Ever since word got out that a vampire is on the loose, patients are worried about anything slightly resembling bite marks,” he glanced at the ID hanging from her belt. “I suppose that’s why you’re in town?”

“Dragon trainer,” she nodded. His face lit up.

“How many years?” he asked as he washed the wound carefully. A curl fell into his face.

“Ten years of service so far,” she stared at the strand of hair. The golden-brown colour reminded her of autumn. “Straight from school to pest control at 16. It’s my third dragon. He didn’t get hurt, luckily.”

“Glad to hear. Move over here, please.”

“Are people panicking about the vampire yet?”, she held still as he started to stitch up the wound. He was of the careful sort, gently working away. A welcome change to the usual treatment she received. Not that dragon trainers cared much about pain, with young dragons being prone to biting off everything they could get their teeth on. Yet it was nice to not worry about a sudden sharp pinch.

“Odette’s a small town, gossip spreads like the flu. Last week, someone overheard the Watch talking about a Kallikant. This week, everyone is burning incense and has become an expert on Kallikant bitemarks. You know how it is. Are there any good leads yet?”

“A few,” she was careful to stay vague. “The Watch does think it’s a Kallikant, but there is no concrete proof yet.”

“Well, as long as you can avoid further attacks in the sewer, I’m happy.”

“Have there always been so many ghouls down there?”

“It’s been an ongoing issue, let’s say. The Watch hasn’t done a proper cleaning since last year,” he set aside the needle. “There we are. Look at that, I’d say that’s my best work today.”

“Solid stitching,” Madeleine glanced at her arm approvingly.

“That might be the best compliment I’ll ever get from you lot,” Claude grinned, applying a bandage. “Be careful while it heals. This could turn into a nasty infection, so please make sure to change the bandage daily or –” he stopped and looked at her. “Madeleine? You’ve got that pest control look on your face.”

“I’m listening,” her cheeks turned red; she had just fantasized about dinner.

“I know you folks don’t take this seriously, so I’ll repeat it. Please change the bandage daily. Promise me?”

“Promise.”

“Then it’s your lucky night. I’ll let you go. Hopefully, we won’t see each other again too soon,” he smiled at her, the notion bringing out his dimples and laugh lines.

And for some reason, when she was back in her empty apartment much later that night, a purring Jean on her lap, her stomach full of take-out noodles, she didn’t think of the ghouls or the vampire or the campaign. Instead, her thoughts kept circling back to his smile.