Which is why I don't fucking belong here.
“Do you have bad reactions to any specific magic?”
“No.”
"Hmm." He raises a brow slightly before his lips twist to the side. "And how do you feel when your emotions start to elevate?"
My brows pull together and it takes me a moment to come up with an answer. "Umm, I feel..." What exactly is he asking me?
"Do you feel an unfamiliar energy moving through your body on top of the emotions?" he asks and I'm thankful for the clarification.
Sometimes I can feel a little pull in my chest when I get pissed, but honestly it’s so weak that I’m often convinced it's just heartburn. It’s nothing worth mentioning.
I shake my head. "No, I just feel normal."
I can tell he's disappointed with my answer when he lets out another grunt. "And you have no idea about your biological parents?" he asks.
I shake my head. "No, my mom is the only parent I've ever known." I shift in my seat slightly.
I've never been a fan of people asking about my biological parents. Those fuckers have never done a thing for me and it isn't as if I need them now, so the topic of them is a moot point for me. I understand why Mr. Lunsen wants to know, but it doesn't make me feel any more comfortable.
"Well then. None of the questions I have for you seem to prove of worth." He rises to his feet, the chair legs screeching against the floor. He walks around the table and I hear the door open behind me. A second later he reappears with some sort of device in his hand and a black pouch. Made of a rough fabric. He places them on the table.
"I'm going to run some tests on you using what we call a spreal device." He doesn't explain what exactly the device does before he's hooking it up to me. He places two patches right above my collarbone and they lead back to the small, square device, attached by wires. Two more patches are applied to my wrists. He looks me over before nodding to himself and stepping back. "This is near painless."
"Near?" I ask, and my body jolts a moment later as little shocks of electricity pinch my skin. My mouth falls open and I bite down, gritting my teeth to refrain from letting out a couple of curses.
The machine continues to whir and shock me as Mr. Lunsen goes into the little pouch. I lean away from him, stopping when he shoots me a pointed look. "You're going to stick me with that?" I ask, looking at the long needle in his hand.
"Of course," he says, pushing his glasses up on his face. "What else would I do with it?" He steps closer to me. "Now hold still, this won't take too long."
"Are you qualified to go around sticking students?" I as, wincing as the needle slides roughly under my skin.
At least this is a distraction from the shock machine.
He shrugs, and I can tell that he really doesn't care about rules. "Eh, I stuck their parents and their grandparents for the same tests so no one cares whether I'm qualified or not."
I eye him, taking in his face. He doesn't look old per se, middle age at the most but for him to be around this long... well damn. I take a deep swallow. “So do you do anything else here other than being the librarian and unqualified phlebotomist?" I ask.
I swear I hear him let out a small laugh but when I look at his face, his lips are pressed into a thin line as he stares at the vial filling with blood. "I do multiple things here and there." Once the vial fills up he tosses it to the side, quickly replacing it with another.
"What are you going to do with my blood?"
He shoots me an incredulous look and I have a feeling none of the other students bother him with this many questions. "I'm going to run tests to see if I can determine the type of fae you are via chromosomes and other parts of your DNA of course. That's what this test is about after all. I'm not just draining your blood for fun. I'm not a vampire."
His voice is pinched and I decide it's best not to ask anymore questions, letting the shocks of the machine take my concentration. After a few minutes, the shocking stops and Mr. Lunsen is no longer drawing my blood. There's a small brown band aid over the spot where he stuck me.
He steps back, tucking the vials into the pouch. He takes the patches off of my collarbone first and there's a small pinch from the adhesive having stuck to my skin so well. The pinch is slightly less painful than the first, but I still rub at my wrists slightly and wait patiently to see what's coming next.
"That's all I need from you," Mr. Lunsen says. "I'll be in contact once I have my results and we can discuss my findings. Depending on what I get back, I may be able to trace back what exact family you belong to."
My body tenses, "I don't want to know."
His eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn't push the idea.
"Sprouse will be waiting in the hall for you," he says before turning his back to me as he starts to fiddle with the pouch.
I stand up, rubbing at my wrists once more before pulling the door open. Sure enough, Ms. Hallan is standing outside waiting. She has a little card in her hand, along with a sheet of paper.