After calling into work and requesting a "personal day", I forced myself to get dressed and get myself in my car and to the appointment that Clarice had made for me. Sitting on an obnoxiously comfortable chaise lounge in a richly appointed office, I watched the tiny woman scuttle about, humming to herself, lighting a few candles, dropping some oils into a diffuser, and making tiny adjustments to the beautiful little altar on the north side of the office. She appeared to be in her sixties, which implied to me she was likely well into her fifth century. I knew her family hailed from both witches and the fae, so she definitely had the ability to live an extraordinary amount of time. That, and if she were actually sixty, a good portion of the Crypti that I knew saw her would not be as comfortable with her... no centuries old being likes taking advice, medical, emotional or otherwise, from someone they viewed as a child. And no matter how many or few wrinkles present, sixty would be considered young by many Cryptids.
"So, your memory is compromised, you say?" Dr. Valerian asked, shuffling back to her large, dark purple velvet wingback chair in the middle of the office, which faced the chaise. I refused to lay down on the damn chaise. She always found this terribly amusing; the way I resisted treatment, but logically acknowledged I needed it and showed up but never fully committed to the niceties of it.
"Which is really odd," I admitted. "I mean, when I was younger, and I couldn't control my feeding, sure... I might lose consciousness and wake up to a dead body. But that hasn't happened in easily a couple decades. I know exactly when my... partner..." I couldn't use the word 'prey', it made me nauseous. "Is at a good place to be tapped and won't be harmed or notice it... and generally, I know when they are getting depleted and when to stop so I do not harm them... But this... this was different."
"How so?" Dr. V steepled her fingers and watched me over her folded hands, her large grey eyes watching my expression, but I knew she was looking at more than that. She was a natural empath, which made this profession ideally suited to her. You couldn't really hide what you were feeling from her, which made me uncomfortable a lot of the time. She said it was because I was uncomfortable with myself, and my own feelings, thus, didn't like that she was aware of them. If I could conquer my shame and embarrassment about what I was, then perhaps, I would be more comfortable about being in her office, and asking for her help. At least, that was her theory.
"Usually once I decide to feed, Doc, everything turns to hyper focus, not fuzzy... and while I remember bringing Ke—um, the guy... home, and taking him to bed... that's it."
Dr. Valerian regarded me steadily. "Tempest, when was the last time you had a blood test? Or have had any medical care?"
I blinked, a little surprised. "Like... you mean... human medicine? You're kidding, right, doc? Why would I risk us all by seeking a human doctor?" I didn't add that where and how I was raised, the likelihood of a human being permitted anywhere near me at a young age for anything other than dinner was fairly slim. And I don't mean as a guest at the table. But where I grew up, who my family where, that was something I kept between myself and only my closest, most trusted friends. We were rare, we
Buveur D'âme
, the soul drinkers of the Cryptozoic world. Hailing from Edom itself, few of us chose to reside in this reality. I was raised her by my sisters, away from my parents... from a father I didn't even know the name of. But it was the passing of my sisters... passing. What a polite way to say "eradication"... that caused me to do all I could to cloak myself in the guise of being a many generations diluted little succubus, all on her own, in the big bad world. The good doctor was one of but a handful of people who knew who my mother was, from where I came from. That I was more than I seemed, and older by far than the image of the twenty-something woman I projected. So her question was more than a little odd.
She gave an indulgent smile. "I wasn't implying you would, dear. I simply mean some healers do use some human synthetic medications when treating their Crypti patients. Depending on the Cryptid, some of these actually work in the body, even if they process chemicals and toxins quickly. And we do very much use blood tests and human medicine diagnostics to ascertain certain things..."
"Like what?" I asked, watching her, carefully. She had a theory, one she didn't want to share. I could see it in her very posture.
"Chemical imbalances, hormone changes, even some spells leave residue in the blood. And just as with humans, if you had been drugged in anyway, that, too, would show up." She gave me a very significant look.
