Her gaze was intense and it seemed to pierce him right through, making him feel open and vulnerable. Over the years he’d treated hundreds of vampires, lycans and witches in the city of Nouveau Monde but he’d never been around an Otherworld creature as potent as Mistress Guinevere was. Standing, she reached up to the zipper on her gown and slid it down her side, over her hip, and letting it pool at her feet, she stepped out of it. Underneath she wore a bra and tiny panties. He knelt to inspect her wound. Because of the inadequate light, he had to press his face close to her side just underneath the band of her bra. The wound had closed up some, a testament to the healing powers of vampires, and to his healing ability, but it appeared swollen and off color. It was definitely silver infected. “I have to open it again. It’s infected.” He glanced up at her. She nodded for him to go ahead. Trevor opened his kit and took out his scalpel. It was standard issue for an EMT in Nouveau Monde for exactly situations like this.
