Warm Blood

twelve

12

present day

Agony is the only word that comes to mind when I dare to think about my current state of being. It hurts to think about the hows and whys of the throbbing pain shooting through my veins as my brain struggles to piece together what is happening to me. I scramble to run, believing I can make it to my destination if I will it, but my legs shut me down every time. One moment I am moving as fast as the wind and the next I am struggling to walk at a snail's pace. Things that used to be ordinary to me somehow seem harder now—it's almost like my own body is forgetting that I am a vampire.

I'm dying.

The prospect of death is something I've always craved, especially after a life of desolation and misery as the one I've led. But I am so close to having everything I always wanted; I can see the horizon of my life's efforts finally paying off, so I can't die.

Not now.

I promised myself I would give Amara the time she needed to figure things out, but I know I don't have the liberty of time on my side for once. I find her at her parents' house in Kenner, just ten miles outside of the city where I imagine she's spent most of her days since her outburst in the cafeteria a week ago. It wasn't my plan to push her into discovering her powers so soon, but the plan is no good to me if I die before I can execute it.

I knock on her bedroom window hastily as I simultaneously try to stop myself from falling over. It's dark inside and for a fleeting moment, my heart sinks in my chest at the thought of dying for real this time, but a soft yellow light flicks on in time to revive my hope. Seconds later, Amara is peering out the window to investigate the noise and her brown eyes widen once they settle on me. She hurries to unlock the window and hover over me with concern written all over her face. "Chloe? Oh my god—what are you doing here? Are you okay?"

I don't have the energy to speak, so I shake my head instead. I reach out to her to which she immediately responds by grabbing onto my arms to pull me into her bedroom. I stumble to the floors shortly after crossing the threshold, finally feeling a slight relief from not having to stand anymore. Running had never before felt so draining like it does now.

"Uh ... Chloe?" Amara's voice is the only thing keeping me from fading.

"Need," I croak, "magic," and it's all I can muster up the strength to say. I didn't think through how I intend to ask for help if I can't even speak.

"Magic? I don't understand. What's wrong with you? What happened?" Amara continues to bombard me with questions I have no intention of answering because the pain has become so unbearable. My lungs constrict and it becomes harder to breathe, like I'm having an asthma attack when I shouldn't be succumbing to something to pathetic, so ... human.

My mind flicks back to the image of Theo standing in that dark alley, sweat dripping down his temples with anxiety and his charm nowhere to be seen. I tried to kill him and by some odd turn of events, he in turn tried to kill me. His blood is toxic somehow, and I can't even begin to understand why. I've tasted blood that was diseased before—cancer, consumption, malaria—but none has ever had an adverse effect on me other than the occasional sour taste. This reaction, whatever it is, is foreign and I don't like things I can't comprehend.

"Okay, I'm g-gonna call 911," I hear Amara say exasperatedly once I don't respond. It pulls me out of my thoughts in time for me to latch onto her wrist with a firm grip before she can retrieve her phone. "Gah—Chloe! I don't know how to help if you don't tell me what's going on with you!"