Page 7 of The Unraveling

Chapter 3

When my knocks become mere nudges against the wood, the door finally cracks open. My body sags against it in relief. I lift my gaze to Dr. Todd as he peers down at me through the gap, eyes wide as if he wasn’t expecting me. His brow furrows. He stares a moment before gasping with some realization.

“Isla? I hope you haven’t been waiting too long. It’s strange . . . I didn’t hear you. Come in, come in. It’s chilly outside.”

As he opens the door, I crawl inside before he can offer assistance. He grabs my bag of snacks instead.

“Feeling weak today?” he asks. A tremor runs through his fingers as he does up the last button of his white linen dress shirt as if he realized I was here while in the middle of dressing. He adjusts his brown vest around his hips.

I nod and crawl against the wall to rest. “Y-yes,” I admit. “B-but I’m looking forward to feeling better after my treatment tonight.”

“Most definitely.” Dr. Todd shuts the door and rubs his eyes. They’re dim with exhaustion, his gaze heavy with effort. He reaches down with a shaky hand. “Help up?”

He braces against the foyer table with my favorite flowers on display—daisies, meant to make my visits more welcoming—and I slide my hand into his.

The warmth of his palm is so jarring, I yank away and gape at him.

“How long were you out there, Isla?” he asks, staring at his hand as if there’s something wrong with it. “You’re freezing.”

I swallow a knot and study him. The pallor of his clean-shaven face makes me wonder if he’s coming down with something before I realize the thought is silly.

“N-not v-very long,” I stutter. My hand slides back into his.

He strains, his fingers gripping the edge of the table as he draws me to my feet. I waver, and he straightens and helps steady me. Once I’m re-balanced, I smile at him.

Dr. Todd gazes back with sparkling, half-lidded eyes. My cheeks flush with warmth. He rushes forward, his lips parting before crashing against mine. I inhale sharply and throw my weak arms around his neck to keep standing. The shock of his lips nearly buckles my legs.

A new trembling overcomes me, his wet lips urging mine. I gather my thoughts enough to kiss him back, my tongue slipping past his desperate lips like I might find his fangs.

But he tears away with a gasp, his pulsing breaths unnervingly hot against my face as he stares at me in horror. His hands grip my biceps so I don’t fall.

“M-my sincerest apologies,” he chokes out. “Isla, I don’t know what came over me. That was abhorrently unprofessional and inappropriate⁠—”

I lean forward and let my lips fall back against his, but he turns his face away. I retreat with a frown and aching heart.

“You don’t have to,” he assures me, eyes desperate. “We can forget it happened. I will continue to treat you as if it never did. Rest assured, it changes nothing. I won’t let anything impede being your doctor.”

I bite back a smile. “You could . . .” I draw in a shaky breath, nerves fraying with the audacity of my piling words. “You could always . . . adjust my treatment plan, Dr. Todd.”

Dr. Todd’s brow furrows for a moment before his eyes flash with understanding and drop from mine. A hard swallow works its way down his throat. “Isla . . .” he breathes, though I can tell from the conflict raging in his eyes that he hates how he’s considering my suggestion. “I’m your physician.”

I waver on my feet, and he grips me tighter. “It’s not like you have a higher authority to answer to.” I lick my lips, buzzing with the memory of his passion. “Besides, you do such a wonderful job taking care of me . . .”

“Isla,” he whispers, an ache in his voice. “It’s just what I do. Don’t think you . . . owe me in such a way for your treatments.”

“It’s not about owing,” I assure him. My nose crinkles, and I look down, heart fluttering in my throat as I add, “I just think more personalized treatments would be nice . . .”

Dr. Todd makes a strained noise, then clears his throat. He brushes my arm as he murmurs, “Well, speaking of treatments, Isla . . .”

I sigh, eyelashes fluttering as I lift my head and meet his tortured gaze.

As he straightens and offers his bent arm, I hook mine through. Dr. Todd’s steps are slow beside mine; his knee buckles when we reach the study doorway. I grip the door frame to keep us both upright, and he chuckles, apologizing.

“I’m feeling quite tired today,” he explains. “Not quite like myself. I have a strange sense of . . . déjà vu.”

As we enter the study, my heartbeat surges. A dead man lies on the hardwood floor with a hole in his chest, blood pooled and splattered around him. Questions pile on my tongue, but I don’t want to pose a single one. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to my treatment, so the last thing I want to do is make Dr. Todd believe I’m unfit for the realities of the vampire world before he’s ready to turn me.

Halfway across the room, he releases me and swiftly stumbles the rest of the way to his desk before collapsing in the chair. He coughs into his hand, stares at his palm, then smiles up at me as he lowers it to his lap out of sight.