Page 55 of Rite of Unity

A woman in dark brown moved swiftly and my stomach dipped.Only clinic nurses wore brown.It hid the blood better than any other color.

She turned into a door on her right.“Sit.”

At the center of the room, a chair with an adjustable back and odd straps was spotlighted under an ugly yellow bulb.

“There?”

Her pinched expression said she wouldn’t ask twice.

I moved, sitting on the edge of the seat.

“Sit back.”

I swallowed, sliding against the chair back and staring up at the ceiling.

“What—”

“Recite your information,” she cut me off.

I glanced at where she stood beside a low table.It was filled with glass tubes and sharp needles.

“Um.”I slid my palms over the straps.“Maryn Veil.Daughter of Joel Veil.Son of Thomas Veil.Son of Edmund Veil.Son of William Veil.”

She scanned her chart.

“And.”

“And?”

“The rest, Miss Veil.”

“I… I don’t know.”

She searched the chart again.Son of Brian Veil.Son of Marcus Veil.”

“Okay.”

She slammed the chart down.

“Do you need to be restrained?”

“What?”

Her eyes narrowed on me.“Does the sight of blood make you nauseous, anxious, hysterical?”

The memory of my bloody nail swam to the surface.

“No.”

“Good.Hold out your arm.”

I turned my hand over, face up, gaze tracking the nurse’s dexterous fingers, and she reached for a long needle, screwing the end into a glass tube.

She approached my side, and I tensed.

She wrapped a vicelike hand around my biceps, squeezing; in seconds, blue veins bulged under my skin, pressing the bounds of their cage, seeking an alternate route of escape.

A pinch and the needle slid under my skin.A line of red raced up the needle's translucent tube and began to fill the vial.I watched in silent fascination.When it was full, she released my upper arm, reaching for a swath of cloth and pressing it firmly over the puncture as the needle slid out.