Chapter 36

Ephie woke bleary-eyed and groggy but feeling better than she'd thought she would. The pain was gone. She was tired, and the fog of the pain meds remained, although nothing like what it had been.

Was she dreaming again? No, she was actually awake and coherent. Something that hadn't happened since … before the fire.

The fire.

It all came rushing back to her. Ephie stared at the dim light filtering through the blinds on the window. Several beautiful bouquets of flowers sat on the sill, the scent of them lovely but not enough to stop the images from playing out. The soft beep and hum of the machines she was hooked up to provided the soundtrack to her memories.

Tears trickled down her face. So much of what had happened was a blur, but there were parts she remembered vividly. The smell of the smoke. The deafening sound of the fire. The intense heat. And the pain. She turned her head away from the window.

A nurse was coming in. She stopped, and her brows went up. She quickly smiled at Ephie. "You're awake. I … wasn't expecting that." The older woman went straight to Ephie's chart, flipping through it with concern on her face. "How are you feeling?"

"All right. Not bad, I guess. A little groggy."

"Not bad? Do you have any pain? Any stiffness?"

Ephie thought about that, trying to really listen to her body. "No, neither of those."

The nurse momentarily stopped reading the chart to stare at Ephie. "You're sure?"

"Yep." Ephie did her best to sit up, but between the blankets, the tubes, and the bandages, it was like fighting some kind of land octopus.

"Whoa, now!" The nurse started forward. "I can raise the bed for you a bit if you'd like, but too much movement can loosen the bandages and—"

The end of the dressing on Ephie's left hand already dangled free. She pulled it loose as the nurse looked on.

The skin underneath looked very new. It was different shades of pink, the outline of the burn still visible, but there was no hard scarring, no scabs, no dying or burned skin. Ephie shrugged one shoulder and lifted her hand up a little. "Do I really need to cover this?"

The nurse's mouth was open, her eyes narrowed. She shook her head, but the gesture felt more like it was for herself than Ephie. "I'll, uh, be right back."

The nurse scurried off, passing someone at the door.

Smiling big, Birdie strode in with a full tote bag in one hand and her purse over the other shoulder. "Hello there, doll face. How are you? Causing trouble?"

Ephie shook her head. "I'm not trying to." She smiled. It was so good to see a friendly face. "How are you?"

"I'm just peachy." Birdie rested the tote bag against the edge of the bed, then lowered her voice. "Jean-Luc's not in here, is he? I don't want to put the bag on top of him."

"No." Ephie laughed. "How would Jean-Luc get here?"

"Well, Remy's been bringing him."

"He has?" Figured. The two of them were as thick as thieves. She loved it.

"Sure," Birdie said. "As soon as Remy was able, he's been coming to see you. And I have it on good authority that since he helped you get better, you're going to be getting out of here soon. How are you feeling, by the way? You look pretty good."

"He helped me get better?" Ephie searched her memory, trying to figure out what Birdie was referring to. Her last dreams had been good. Really good. Her and Remy and Jean-Luc strolling through the French Quarter on a balmy evening as happy music played. They'd been dressed in beautiful, old-fashioned clothing. Like they were in period costumes from the early days of Louisiana.

But then, so had everyone else they'd passed.

"He did." Birdie leaned in, taking a closer look at Ephie. "Don't you feel better?"

"I do feel pretty good." In the few minutes since she'd woken up, the last of the medicated fog had lifted.

"That's because he gave you a blood transfusion. I guess that's the best term for it. Anyway, a few of us were told so that we could keep an eye out for you in case you got discharged during daylight hours. I figured I'd come and check on you and bring you a change of clothing for when that happened. So you'd be ready."

Ephie was still stuck on the blood transfusion part. "When did that happen? I don't even remember him being here."

"I'm sure you don't. They've kept you pretty doped up. For the pain, I'm sure. Every time I've been here, you've been completely out of it."

Ephie glanced at her hand again. If she'd been that badly burned, she shouldn't be this healed. Something was going on.

Before she could figure out what that was, her mother and Darryl came in. Her mother gasped. "You're awake."

Ephie nodded. "Hi, Mom. Hi, Darryl. I didn't know you guys were here."

Leonie rushed to Ephie's bedside as Birdie stepped back. "We came as soon as we heard about the fire. How are you, sweetheart? How are you feeling? Is the pain awful? Should you be up?"

It was a bit overwhelming to be barraged with questions, but Ephie did her best. "I'm good. I feel fine. There's no pain. And why shouldn't I be up?"

"Your mother's just worried," Darryl said. "We both were. Glad to see you're doing better."

Birdie leaned in and stuck her hand out. "Birdie Caruthers. I'm a friend of Ephie's. Friend of Remy's, too. You could say we work together. I'm the receptionist at the sheriff's department."

Leonie shook Birdie's hand. "Nice to meet you, Birdie. Thank you for looking out for Ephie. That's very kind of you."

Darryl shook Birdie's hand, too. "Darryl Tyson. Police commissioner. Always nice to meet someone else in law enforcement."

Birdie grinned. Ephie understood. Birdie liked that Darryl had included her as a member of a very special group, even though she was only a receptionist. After hearing Birdie's stories and seeing how capable she was, Ephie had pretty quickly concluded that Birdie was way more than just a receptionist.

Ephie cleared her throat, no longer raw from the smoke. "What happened to the woman who kidnapped me?"

Darryl shook his head. "She didn't make it. She passed a few hours ago."

A doctor strode in, white coat flapping out behind him. "Ms. Moreau. I understand you're feeling better today?"

Leonie, Darryl, and Birdie all stepped aside so the doctor could have access.

Ephie nodded. "I am. Feeling better by the minute, actually."

"Mm-hmm." The doctor just nodded and looked at her chart. Then he checked the machines monitoring her vital signs and sighed. "I fear you might be experiencing a temporary euphoria brought on by a buildup of pain medication in your system."

Ephie frowned. "I don't think so."

"Ms. Moreau, I am a trained medical professional. You have second- and third-degree burns on over forty-seven percent of your body. There is no way you—"

"Okay, but…" Ephie held up her left hand, still unbandaged. "How do you explain this?"

He took her hand, turning it over to inspect the skin. He slipped on a pair of gloves and carefully unwrapped the bandages that remained around her wrist and up her arm.

The skin underneath was the same as the skin on her hand—several shades of fresh pink, with some lines where the worst of the burns had been, but no blood, no oozing, no scabs, no burned skin. No real sign that she'd been burned at all except for the small, still-healing marks that remained.

He frowned, muttering to himself. "This is highly unusual."

The idea that Ephie might be getting out of here and back to Remy's motivated her. She started unwrapping more of her bandages.

"No," the doctor said. "Don't do that."

"Why not?" She didn't stop.

Her mother put her hand on Ephie's ankle. "Sweetheart, listen to the doctor."

"What are the bandages for?" Ephie asked. "If they're to protect my burns, but the burns are healed, then I don't need them, right?"

The doctor sputtered. "There's no way your burns are healed."

Ephie kept unwrapping. The pile of discarded dressings began to grow. "Doctor, I appreciate everything the hospital has done for me. I'd like to be discharged." She glanced at Birdie. "You can take me back to Remy's, right?"

"Sure," Birdie said. She looked tickled with the situation.

Ephie smiled at the doctor. "Can you send someone in to unhook me from all these machines? Or should I do that myself?

"What? No. I— You can't— Please don't." He sighed and, still muttering to himself, started for the door. "Nurse. Nurse!"

Ephie's stomach rumbled.

"Hungry?" Birdie asked.

Ephie nodded. "Yeah, I am. And you know what I want?"

"A big juicy steak? Rare?"

Ephie grinned. "I don't know how, but you read my mind."

"Ephelia." Leonie looked horrified. "I think something simpler would be a better idea."

Darryl had taken a seat. He smiled. "Leonie, the girl's hungry. Let her eat what she wants to eat. What's so wrong with that?"

Birdie winked at Ephie. "The way hospitals go, it'll be an hour or two before they let you get out of here. I'll go get you some food and be right back."

"Thank you." Ephie couldn't explain it, but her craving for meat, the rarer the better, seemed to occupy her entire thought process.

Birdie left. But Leonie came closer. "What's going on with you? Something's different. Something's … off."

"Nothing's off." Ephie moved the pile of bandages to the little bedside table. She contemplated removing the IV line, but she wasn't sure how much it would bleed, and that might get messy.

Leonie inched closer. "You don't look like someone who's been in the hospital because of severe burns."

"No? What do I look like then?"

Leonie stared harder. "Darryl, get me a cup of coffee, would you?"

He got up from the chair. "All right. Be right back."

As soon as he left, Leonie leaned in and inhaled. She reared back, horror in her eyes. "You look and smell like a vampire."