The Vampire Shrink by Lynda Hilburn

more trauma victims arrived every moment. There was that ever-present hospital smell: a combination of antiseptic, body fluids, and fear. I couldn’t imagine working in a chaotic environment such as this, where the adrenaline was constantly pumping. I could almost see the tension in the air.
    It was at times like these when my “sensitivity” really became a problem and I experienced sensory overload as strong emotions and physical discomforts bombarded me from all sides. I began utilizing all the mental tricks I’d learned to help me distract myself from the unwanted sensations and information. I closed my eyes tight and imagined myself surrounded by a circle of white light. That visualization usually did the trick, but this time it barely soothed the chaos. I still felt anxious.
    I’d always been overly aware of people’s feelings and emotions, but it was usually through clairsentience—just my normal idiosyncrasy. Somehow I simply knew what was going on inside their psyches. It came in very handy in therapy sessions, where I could do a little skillful intuiting and skip ahead a few pages.
    I didn’t know why exactly, but I had the notion that my discomfort had something to do with the weird experience with Devereux the other night. Maybe the suggestion he’d given me about my third eye —as if there was any such thing—had caused me to revisit yet another unwanted ability from my childhood. I had the fleeting thought that it would be helpful to speak with Devereux about this new development, that maybe he’d have some advice. Then the part of me that was already dangling outside her comfort zone slammed the door on that idea. She wasn’t fooled. She knew I only wanted to see him again. In fact, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
    Somebody help me. I’m possessed by a vampire wannabe.
    I turned to Midnight. “Would you care to fill me in on what you and Ronald were talking about?”
    She slumped down in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m sorry I got mad. I’m really stressed out. I’m just so tired of everyone telling me that Bryce isn’t good for me or that he’s going to hurt me. They don’t know him like I do. He would never hurt Emerald—he knows she’s my friend. Besides, I think more than one vampire bit her.”
    And we’re back to the vampire fantasy. I really hope she tires of it quickly. I made a mental note to ask her more about that later.
    She relaxed her arms, sat up abruptly, and turned toward me. “Then there was the discussion with Dev about you. He told me he came to see you, and he went on and on about how pretty you are, and how your eyes are so blue that they reminded him of the daytime sky he hasn’t seen in more than eight hundred years, and your dark hair this and your long legs that, blah, blah, blah. I was so pissed that I went and spent the night with Bryce just because I needed someone to want me like Dev wants you.”
    I opened my mouth to speak, but then closed it because I didn’t know what to say. It was normal for clients to transfer their feelings about their parents or some other significant childhood person onto me, but I’d never found myself in the middle of a love triangle before. Clearly this wasn’t the time or place to discuss those issues, especially with a teenage client. Apparently Devereux was clueless about the depth of Midnight’s feelings for him. Or maybe he was simply a heartless bastard who didn’t care. In the midst of my annoyance at him for his insensitivity, there was still a part of me that’d been pleased to hear that Devereux thought I was pretty.
    I was saved from having to figure out anything to say about it by the approach of a handsome, official-looking man dressed in scrubs, with a stethoscope around his neck. A doctor, I assumed. He had shoulder-length golden hair and dark-brown eyes framed by