My Most Precious Human novel Chapter 41

I had never seen any medic so excited when collecting blood. Doctor Duarte surely couldn't control his constantly increasing enthusiasm while watching the drops of my blood fall into another test tube. At that moment, I already knew he was insane, but his insanity was also his charm. Certainly, he kept sniffing the drops of my life essence as if they were the world's greatest perfume, but my instincts were telling me that his scientific excitement was even greater.

When he finished, he bowed down to me, thanking me for the fifth time that I had agreed to test my blood. I would lie if I said that I wasn't curious about his test results. When I was a child, my father, whom I knew had never shared an interest in science, managed to gather a team of experts from among the pack, and they got the results that tagged me as a pricey item. What if their results weren't correct? Or what if I possessed some supernatural ability that I could actually develop and use? I bet that the outcome of the tests provided by an over three-hundred-year-old vampire would be more accurate. I started to get excited myself.

"Thank you, Lilith! Um… I can call you Lilith, can't I?" he asked, agitatedly. "Please call me Will from now on." He grinned, heading towards the door.

"Why not… Will." I chuckled, "Thank you for treating my headache."

"My pleasure, Lilith," he said charmingly and left the room.

I spent more than half of the day in Sariel's bedroom, and I felt it could have been a good moment for me to get back to my room before I would start to feel comfortable there. I went out to the corridor and started to head back to my chamber in the west wing. Each castle servant I met on my way bowed to me while grinning as if I had suddenly become the castle's mistress overnight. It made me uncomfortable, but the best thing I could do was to ignore it. Luckily, I didn't meet any of the blood-bags, since I was quite certain they would like to kill me. Not that I was afraid they would, but injuring those girls wouldn't make my position here better either…

Once I closed the door of my chamber, I heaved a sigh of relief. I still felt weak and slightly dizzy, but at least that agonizing headache was gone. Thankfully, I had the day off, and I could regain my strength before going back to work the next day. For the time being, my brain was only working at 5% capacity. It might have been enough to embrace simple body functions such as eating or walking in a well-known direction, but not enough for logical thinking and drawing conclusions. It was obvious that there was only one way I could regenerate, and that was to get a lot of sleep.

I forced myself to turn on my laptop, but I was so drained of energy I could barely type anything on my keyboard. Two hours later, Martha brought dinner to my chamber and eating it consumed the rest of the strength I had within my body. I used the luxury I had and went to bed at six o'clock.

Just before I closed my eyes, I once again felt grateful to Will for his marvelous drug. I wished that I could have had it with me when I had my first hangover. That memory immediately brought to mind Ezra, the person who had been my life teacher, friend, and substitute father, despite the fact that his method of raising me was quite peculiar and not exactly correct in human terms. When I turned seventeen, he decided to teach me how to drink. It wasn't the smartest idea, especially since werewolves have completely different alcohol tolerance… Let's just say that the hangover was the only thing I could remember when I thought about that time. Even though it was one of the happiest moments I was able to recall, a carefree moment when I could simply laugh at my own stupidity while suffering from a headache.

I closed my eyes and suddenly found myself in St. Anna's Orphanage, where I had been growing up. In the dream, I recalled my first day there. I could barely remember anything from the time I spent with my biological mother, yet I could remember every hateful thing that had happened at the orphanage. One day, I had just woken up in there. It was the cruelest way of telling me that I was unwanted. I had been taken from my mother's arms while I was sleeping. When I opened my eyes, I found myself in a strange, unfamiliar place. I remember being terrified. I was lying on some shabby bed, and there were three nuns observing me with disdain. I trembled and cringed in the bed's corner. One of the nuns took out a cross and turned it my way as if I was some evil seed. I started crying.

"Silence!" the nun yelled.

She sounded so intimidating that I began swallowing my tears, trying not to make any sound.

"Can you speak, child?" she asked in a tone full of superiority.