Before Zoey had time to put an actual plan into action, the door opened, and a nurse walked in—or at least, she assumed the woman was a nurse. She had the look: white outfit, scrubs, the whole deal. But something about her made Zoey pause, tilting her head slightly in curiosity.
The woman had an aura. A faint, steady glow of blue energy surrounded her, and Zoey’s mind immediately latched onto the sight, filing it away with unnerving speed. The aura was calm but had a subtle edge to it, like a rope pulled taut. Was it me? Zoey wondered. Am I putting her on edge?
That wasn’t the only odd thing. Her thoughts were moving faster than she could process, racing to conclusions before she even finished forming questions. It wasn’t normal. She wasn’t a dumb person by any stretch, but this was…different. Her mind felt like it was operating on overdrive, pulling in information in ways that didn’t quite make sense. Like how she knew what auras were even though she felt like she shouldn’t.
The woman looked up and gave her a professional, guarded smile. “Good afternoon, Miss Bail.”
Zoey instinctively leaned back, startled. The movement was subtle, but it was enough. Her afterimages trailed behind her, bright and unmistakable as they flickered to catch up with her body.
The nurse’s expression immediately shifted. Her aura flared, the calm blue pulsing sharply, like a ripple across still water. She tensed visibly, her hand darting into her pocket to press something—a button, Zoey figured.
“Don’t shoot!” Zoey blurted out, her voice frantic. But even as the words tumbled out, she realized she was talking too fast, her speech rushed and jumbled. Her movements weren’t helping either, as she shifted around on the bed, the glowing afterimages trailing behind her every motion like a glaring neon sign.
The nurse’s unease grew. Her aura, which Zoey could still see pulsing around her, flared again, sharp and defensive. It was clear the woman was trying to remain calm, but Zoey’s erratic behavior wasn’t making it easy.
Noticing this Zoey forced herself to take a deep breath, exhaling slowly. The tension in her chest eased slightly, and to her surprise, the nurse’s aura seemed to react in kind. The glow around her softened, steadying once more. The nurse noticed her eyes trailing around her.
“What are you looking at?” the nurse asked, her tone laced with both curiosity and suspicion.
Zoey hesitated, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied the woman. “Ummm,” she asked, “I think your aura?”
The nurse blinked,“Huh…what?”
Zoey cursed internally. Stop talking so fast! she thought, but her mind was still racing, and it felt like her mouth was struggling to keep up.
The nurse quickly pulled herself back into professional mode, masking her confusion with practiced composure. She stepped forward, clipboard in hand. “Miss Bail, I need to perform a routine check-up. Please remain still.”
As she approached, Zoey instinctively backed away, the covers rustling as she scooted further up the bed. Her chest tightened again, and her hands gripped the sheets.
“Miss Bail—”
“Stay back!” Zoey yelled, her voice high and sharp—and again, too fast.
The nurse froze, her face a mix of concern and wariness. Her aura flared again, brighter this time, and Zoey couldn’t help but feel like a cornered animal.
The nurse raised her hands slowly, palms facing forward in a calming gesture, while holding the clipboard under her armpit. Her voice softened as she spoke. “Please, Miss Bail, relax so I can—”
“So you can do what? Who are you? And where am I?” Zoey snapped, her voice cutting through the air with a sharpness that made the nurse flinch.
The words weren’t jumbled or panicked—they were precise, but they came out too fast, like a recording played at triple speed. The syllables blurred at the edges, forcing the nurse’s brain to work overtime to process what Zoey was saying. Her eyes widened slightly, the professional mask slipping for just a moment. It wasn’t just the speed of Zoey’s speech—it was the intensity.
“Miss Bail—” she started again, trying to keep her voice steady, but her unease was visible now. Her aura flickered faintly, a ripple of tension running through the once-calm blue light.
Zoey didn’t care. She sat rigid, her chest rising and falling rapidly as if her body was trying to catch up with her mind. Her gaze was locked on the nurse, sharp and unyielding, her whole demeanor radiating a strange, nervous energy that made the air in the room feel heavier.
The tense atmosphere shifted the moment another energy entered the room. It was calm yet commanding, a presence so powerful it seemed to fill every corner of the space, pushing aside the tension like a wave washing over sand.
In walked a woman unlike anyone Zoey had ever seen. She wore a pristine white cowboy hat tilted at an angle, and a white cape that swayed lightly with her measured steps. Her boots made a soft, crunching sound with each deliberate motion.
Under the brim of her hat, her blonde hair fell in thick braids, framing a face both striking and fierce. But it was her eyes that caught Zoey’s attention—burning orange, almost molten, like twin flames staring into her soul.
White-Bullseye smiled, a confident curve of her lips that didn’t necessarily make Zoey feel at ease, but it was a far cry from the nurse’s strained expression. The smile carried an edge of reassurance, though she wasn’t sure if it was genuine or just practiced calm.
The woman glanced at the nurse, her fiery orange eyes sharp but amused. “Well, don’t you look like a cow stuck in a sandstorm,” she drawled, her voice carrying a slow, deliberate rhythm. “What’s all the edge for?”
The nurse stiffened, her aura flickering nervously as she hurriedly recounted the situation—the strange afterimages, Zoey’s rapid speech, and that she was refusing help.
Zoey sat in silence on the bed, her eyes darting between the two women. She studied the nurse carefully, noting how her tone wavered slightly as she spoke, her nerves still clearly rattled.
White-Bullseye nodded slowly as she listened, her expression calm, almost thoughtful. When the nurse finished, she gave a small wave of her hand. “Alright, sugar, you’re free to go. I’ll take it from here.”
The nurse hesitated for a moment, casting one last glance at Zoey, her lips pressing into a tight line. Then, without another word, she turned and left the room, the door clicking softly shut behind her.
Turning her attention fully to Zoey, her gaze steady and unrelenting. Her smile returned, a mix of warmth and curiosity. “Well, howdy, stranger,” she said, her voice carrying an easy charm.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
She grabbed a chair from a nearby table and spun it around, sitting down backward and resting her arms casually across the backrest. Her posture was relaxed, but her eyes remained locked on Zoey, studying her closely.
“Mind tellin’ me what all the fuss is about?” she asked, tilting her head slightly as if she had all the time in the world.
“Didn’t she already tell you?” Zoey snapped, her words coming out so fast they almost blurred together.
White-Bullseye laughed, a warm and easy chuckle that only made Zoey’s frustration boil over.
“This isn’t fucking funny!” Zoey shouted. “I—” She stumbled over her words, her thoughts tripping over each other. “Damnit! Damnit!”
She threw her arms up, a full-blown tantrum bubbling out of her as her afterimages whipped through the air, trailing like chaotic ribbons of light.
White didn’t flinch. Instead, she leaned back slightly in her chair, her smile growing wider. “Well, isn’t that a fancy thing you got goin’ on,” she said, tilting her head like she was admiring Zoey’s outburst as if it were a spectacle.
“It’s not interesting, it’s weird!” Zoey shot back, glaring. “And who even are you? Where am I? Where’s my school?”
She paused, realizing that this woman probably wouldn’t know the answer to the questions, due to her speaking like a machine gun, but the way the woman tilted her head and smiled made Zoey’s irritation spike again.
“Well, gosh, darlin’,” White-Bullseye said, her drawl slow and deliberate, “I’mma need you to plug the hole before all the beer pours out.” She chuckled at her own joke, then leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her arms. “I’ll answer your questions, so don’t you worry about bein’ left in the dark.”
Zoey narrowed her eyes but stayed silent, her arms crossed defensively.
“First off, I’m White-Bullseye,” her tone light but with an unmistakable undercurrent of authority. “I can pin a needle to a fly if the need arises. And second, you’re at the E.R.O.—that’s the Emergency Response Organization, Arrow-13 base.”
Zoey blinked, her mind racing to catch up with this new information. “Emergency Response?” she repeated, her tone skeptical. “Like…a government thing?”
“Somethin’ like that,” White-Bullseye said with a wink. “But don’t worry, sugar. You’re safe here.”
“I’m safe? Wait—you can understand me?!” Zoey blurted.
“‘Course, darlin’,” White-Bullseye said with a grin. “Quick’s what I do. Whether it’s the draw or the drawl.” She chuckled, leaning forward in the chair.
Zoey put a hand to her chest, feeling the tension in her lungs start to ease. She smiled slightly. At least she could communicate—finally. It felt like a small victory in a sea of overwhelming weirdness. Inhaling deeply, she exhaled slowly, trying to steady herself, though even her breaths caused faint afterimages to ripple around her.
She looked back up at White-Bullseye, her voice steadying despite her lingering irritation. “Okay… so who the fuck are you, and where the fuck am I? Because this is weird as hell, and I feel like I’m tripping balls.”
White-Bullseye raised an eyebrow, clearly amused but not offended by Zoey’s outburst.
Zoey’s eyes narrowed. “Did you guys drug me?!”
White-Bullseye chuckled again, shaking her head. “Now, now, darlin’, let’s get one thing straight. Nobody here’s tryin’ to pull a fast one on ya, no drugs involved. You’re just a little—well—different than you were before.”
Zoey’s stomach twisted at the implication. “Different? What do you mean ‘different’?”
White-Bullseye’s orange eyes met hers, sharp and serious now beneath the casual demeanor. “I mean, sugar, somethin’ happened to you. Somethin’ big. But we’ll get to that. One step at a time.”
“Fuck me, give me answers! And why are you dressed like that? If this is some government thing, shouldn’t you be in a suit or something? Were you late to a cosplay event? Who are you even supposed to be?” Zoey snapped.
White-Bullseye tilted her head back and laughed, loud and unbothered. “Boy oh boy, you don’t hold back, do ya?” she said, her grin widening. “But no, this is how I choose to dress. A trait of mine, helps make work a little more fun, y’know? And for the record, yes, the E.R.O. is technically part of the government, but we operate outside their jurisdiction. Little more freedom that way.”
Zoey’s eyes narrowed, her suspicion deepening. Oh my god, I’ve been kidnapped, she thought, her heart pounding. This woman was insane—clearly insane.
And then she noticed something else, something that made her stomach twist even more. She couldn’t fully see White-Bullseye’s aura. It wasn’t like the nurse she’d seen—clear, vivid, and easy to read. Instead, it was faint, like it was deliberately hidden. That unsettled her more than anything else.
Her fingers twitched, inching toward the I.V. in her arm. She didn’t have a plan yet, but the idea of pulling it out and running was growing more tempting by the second.
But before she could act, White-Bullseye’s sharp orange eyes flicked down to her hand. The afterimages trailing her movement gave her away instantly.
“Relax, darlin’,” White-Bullseye said, her tone calm but with an unmistakable edge this time. She leaned forward slightly more, her arms still resting on the back of the chair. “Let’s use our noggins, you little rascal, ‘fore you do somethin’ you’ll regret.”
Zoey froze, her hand hovering near the I.V. She swallowed hard, her throat dry. The tension in the room thickened, she wasn’t sure if White-Bullseye was threatening her or not.
“Alright,” White-Bullseye said with a soft sigh, her voice gentler now but still carrying that ever-present confidence. “Let’s not get off on the wrong foot and fall off the saddle. Let’s start simple.” She smiled at Zoey, the warmth in her expression slightly disarming. “So, let’s begin with what you remember.”
Zoey just stared at her, her face blank and unreadable. She didn’t even try to answer.
White-Bullseye raised an eyebrow, her grin tugging wider. “What? Hen peck your cheek? Cat got your tongue?”
Instead of responding to the question, Zoey blurted out something entirely different, her gaze narrowing suspiciously. “Why can’t I see your aura? More like why are you hiding it?”
That question made White-Bullseye falter for the first time. The easygoing humor in her expression flickered, replaced with a brief flash of surprise. Now that’s new, she thought, quickly masking her reaction.
Auras being visible to a newly awakened Veythari wasn’t unusual—many of them developed some form of heightened perception during their transition. But knowing it was an aura, and recognizing when someone was suppressing theirs? That wasn’t just uncommon—it was practically unheard of.
White-Bullseye leaned back slightly, resting her elbows on the back of her chair. Her sharp orange eyes studied Zoey with renewed interest, as if reassessing her entirely.
“Well now, sugar,” she said, her drawl slower, more deliberate. “Aren’t you just full of surprises? Not many folk wake up from their transformation with eyes sharp enough to catch somethin’ like that.”
Zoey’s hands fidgeted nervously in her lap, her eyes flicking to the door for a split second before locking back onto White-Bullseye.
“Transformation? What the hell happened to me?” That took priority over concealed auras. What the hell was she now?
White-Bullseye’s smile softened, though it didn’t lose its edge. “That’s what we’re here to figure out, darlin’. But if you want the truth, you gotta take a deep breath and ride the trail with me. Jus remember I’m here to help, not hurt.”
Zoey gave White-Bullseye a long, skeptical once-over, her sharp gaze lingering on the woman’s confident stance and fiery eyes. She didn’t trust her—not completely—but it wasn’t like she had much of a choice. If these people wanted to hurt her, they wouldn’t be sitting here chatting; they would’ve already done it.
There was still that slim, irrational chance that this was some wild hallucination—something Leo might’ve slipped her as a dumb prank while they kissed. The thought flickered briefly, but she quickly dismissed it. As much of a dummy as Leo was, he wasn’t an outright asshole… most of the time.
She sighed, the tension in her shoulders relaxing slightly, and shook her head. The movement caused her afterimages to ripple around her, a faint shimmer of light trailing her every motion. White-Bullseye’s expression hardened at the sight—just for a split second—but she quickly reined it in, her composure slipping back into place.
Zoey noticed but chose not to comment. Instead, she leaned forward slightly, locking eyes with White-Bullseye. “Fine,” she said, her voice steadier now but still tinged with irritation. She raised her hands and made exaggerated air quotes. “I’ll cooperate.”
White-Bullseye smirked but didn’t interrupt.
Zoey dropped her hands and leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest. “So fill me in, because, girl, I am tired of being confused.”
The smirk on White-Bullseye’s face turned into a full grin, her orange eyes gleaming with amusement. “Well, darlin’, glad to see we’re ridin’ the same trail now.” She straightened up slightly, resting her arms casually over the back of the chair again. “Let me start by tellin’ you this—you’re not losin’ your mind, you’re not trippin’ on anything, and what imma bout tell you isn’t your fault.”
Zoey’s stomach twisted at the cryptic response, but she forced herself to stay calm. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
White-Bullseye tilted her head slightly, the grin fading into something more serious. “It means you’re not the same Zoey Bail you were three weeks ago. Due to unfortunate events, you’re a Veythari now. And this, sugar, is just the beginning.”