somehow she found herself Googling the word candiru . She was surprised when the search engine actually generated a full page of results. She assumed she had invented the word. After clicking on Wikipedia, she gasped. Small fish, adults growing up to fifteen centimeters, found in the Amazon, especially after large blood meal, spike-like teeth assist in latching to its prey, face similar to that of a whiskered catfish. Annalise quickly scrolled down the page and froze when she found an image of the creature. It was just as the fish appeared in her nightmare. “What. The. Fuck?”
Freaked, she minimized the screen and opened another search. What was the name of the butterfly Kyle had told her about? Maudereleckin ? She typed in her best guess but got nothing in the returned search results. Her finger tapped the delete key sending the curser backward in the search bar. She then typed the words bloodsucking butterflies and hit enter.
There it was, Madrilenial butterflies . She clicked on images and her heart stopped. Just as she had dreamed two nights ago, the insect had veined, blood-red wings, tipped with orange, and one bold-white stripe. Backing up a page, she hit up Wikipedia again, deadly butterfly, found in Spain, drinks from blood of cattle. “Son of a bitch.”
She shut her laptop and stared across the room at nothing. How was she dreaming of things she had never heard of before? She didn’t watch TV at night, so it wasn’t like she had fallen asleep during some twisted documentary about bloodsucking bugs on Animal Planet. What the hell was going on with her? And if she had to dream about bloodsuckers why couldn’t she dream about Eric Northman or Edward Cullen? She was a True Blood and Twilight fan as much as the next heterosexual girl, but she couldn’t dream about sexy, fictional, fanged hotties, no, she had to dream about real-life, gross little leach fish and ugly, cattle-drinking butterflies. She suddenly squirmed as if her skin was crawling and decided to take a shower.
As she rinsed the soap from her body she examined the mark on her leg once more. Unbelievably, she had trouble finding the twin marks. If not for the tenderness of the area she would have never found the spot. It seemed to have healed immeasurably in the last thirty minutes. She wondered if she was going through some weird, Goth fantasy stage and imagined what was just a bruise on her leg to resemble a vampire bite. Completely fed up with herself, she hung her loofah back on the rack and angrily rinsed the conditioner from her hair. She needed to grow up and seriously get a grip.
Kyle was already at the bar when she arrived at quarter to eleven. The morning was rapidly reaching ungodly humidity and Annalise was grateful for the smoky central air once more. She stuffed her bag under the bar and retrieved her tray and apron. As she was tying her apron strings around her waist Kyle came up behind her and kissed her neck. For some reason she had an adverse reaction to the common gesture of affection.
“You’re early. Did you get some studying done this morning?”
Stepping out of the embrace she tried not to frown as she fumbled with the tie at her back. “Um, I didn’t really sleep well last night, so I figured I’d come in early. I was just distracted this morning and wasting time.”
He brushed her hands away, making quick work of tying the apron strings. In a husky voice he said, “I would have made sure you slept well if you were in my bed.”
“Yeah right.”
He turned her back around and smiled at her. “Well, not all night, but I would have made sure you were exhausted enough to sleep soundly. Hey, is that new perfume?”
She frowned and sniffed her skin. “No. I don’t have any perfume on.”
“You smell different.”
“Good or bad different?”
“I don’t know.” He leaned in and made a face as he inhaled her scent that told her he wasn’t a fan of whatever he smelled. “It’s musky, like cologne almost.
Freaked, she minimized the screen and opened another search. What was the name of the butterfly Kyle had told her about? Maudereleckin ? She typed in her best guess but got nothing in the returned search results. Her finger tapped the delete key sending the curser backward in the search bar. She then typed the words bloodsucking butterflies and hit enter.
There it was, Madrilenial butterflies . She clicked on images and her heart stopped. Just as she had dreamed two nights ago, the insect had veined, blood-red wings, tipped with orange, and one bold-white stripe. Backing up a page, she hit up Wikipedia again, deadly butterfly, found in Spain, drinks from blood of cattle. “Son of a bitch.”
She shut her laptop and stared across the room at nothing. How was she dreaming of things she had never heard of before? She didn’t watch TV at night, so it wasn’t like she had fallen asleep during some twisted documentary about bloodsucking bugs on Animal Planet. What the hell was going on with her? And if she had to dream about bloodsuckers why couldn’t she dream about Eric Northman or Edward Cullen? She was a True Blood and Twilight fan as much as the next heterosexual girl, but she couldn’t dream about sexy, fictional, fanged hotties, no, she had to dream about real-life, gross little leach fish and ugly, cattle-drinking butterflies. She suddenly squirmed as if her skin was crawling and decided to take a shower.
As she rinsed the soap from her body she examined the mark on her leg once more. Unbelievably, she had trouble finding the twin marks. If not for the tenderness of the area she would have never found the spot. It seemed to have healed immeasurably in the last thirty minutes. She wondered if she was going through some weird, Goth fantasy stage and imagined what was just a bruise on her leg to resemble a vampire bite. Completely fed up with herself, she hung her loofah back on the rack and angrily rinsed the conditioner from her hair. She needed to grow up and seriously get a grip.
Kyle was already at the bar when she arrived at quarter to eleven. The morning was rapidly reaching ungodly humidity and Annalise was grateful for the smoky central air once more. She stuffed her bag under the bar and retrieved her tray and apron. As she was tying her apron strings around her waist Kyle came up behind her and kissed her neck. For some reason she had an adverse reaction to the common gesture of affection.
“You’re early. Did you get some studying done this morning?”
Stepping out of the embrace she tried not to frown as she fumbled with the tie at her back. “Um, I didn’t really sleep well last night, so I figured I’d come in early. I was just distracted this morning and wasting time.”
He brushed her hands away, making quick work of tying the apron strings. In a husky voice he said, “I would have made sure you slept well if you were in my bed.”
“Yeah right.”
He turned her back around and smiled at her. “Well, not all night, but I would have made sure you were exhausted enough to sleep soundly. Hey, is that new perfume?”
She frowned and sniffed her skin. “No. I don’t have any perfume on.”
“You smell different.”
“Good or bad different?”
“I don’t know.” He leaned in and made a face as he inhaled her scent that told her he wasn’t a fan of whatever he smelled. “It’s musky, like cologne almost.
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