Chapter Eight
Time passed in swirls.
I was no longer in pain, no longer aching and sad, I was simply lost in a wash of sensations and muted colors that spun through my mind like a beautiful but subtle kaleidoscope. I felt rough, cold hands on my face a few times, but the feeling didn't really break through the dream.
"Aerin... why do you always do that?"
I twitched at the distant voice, almost roused out of my dreamlike state, but something came over my head and I slowly sank back down into the folds of semi-conscious dreaming. Colors swum and spiraled until a watery face took shape in my sleeping mind.
My heart ached, and I wanted nothing more than to reach out.
Kimberly...
Every part of my being resounded with her name, the name of my beautiful little sister, the sibling I had basically raised, and cherished, and missed more than anyone else. Her chubby, freckled cheeks, her long brown hair, those watery blue eyes with their hazel flecks.
"Why do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"That... that thing you do with your arms."
"Oh... nervous habit, I guess."
Colors swirled, muddled, hazed. Figures flickered out of my vision, and everything was blurry. I was voiceless, a mindless wanderer in a place full of echoes and sounds, dreaming.
"You don't need to be nervous."
Kimberly. My sister. Her warmth. Her voice. Melting like honey into my mind.
"But... tomorrow's my first day of college. I can't help but be nervous."
"Why?"
"Well, I mean... I dunno."
"You're perfect the way you are. You don't need to try so hard for everyone to see that."
Silence echoed inside the colorful haze, but her form dissolved like mist, leaving me alone. I reached through the colors, trying to find her, reaching for her, but there was nothing there.
I remembered all of this in a blurry haze since the colors kept swirling around, taking me through vague memories and recollections, and I hated it. I wanted to wake up, but I couldn't. I was trapped in a euphoric state, trapped inside my own head, trapped, trapped, trapped...
Until the moment I suddenly wasn't trapped anymore.
My eyes suddenly flew open and I gasped, voice raspy and dry, chest heaving violently. I was sweating profusely - completely soaked with a maddening fever, body on fire, every nerve in my being lit up with electrifying sensations. I writhed under my satin sheets, trying to breathe right.
My thirst, I realized, cringing at the sensitivity in my skin. I need blood, now.
I struggled to get up, but upon doing so I realized I wasn't hurting half as bad as before. Confused, I lifted my shirt and looked at my chest only to see that the bruises had faded considerably. Most of them had even turned yellow, which only perplexed me further until I looked at my phone and saw that it was nine in the evening on my birthday.
I'd been unconscious for two full days.
It was July 15th. I was officially seventy six years old.
"Fuck," I breathed, raising a hand and touching my razor sharp fangs; my face was hot and tingling, my ears burned as if I'd been slapped, and the dryness in my throat was maddening, demanding attention, sending waves upon waves of heat running through me. "I need blood..."
Whipping the blankets off me, I rose even though I was wracked with chills that felt more hot than cold. I felt dizzy. My head started pounding with a sudden migraine and I staggered, hair sliding across my face. I reached for the knob and leaned against the door as I opened it, but I honestly didn't recognize my apartment.
The construction had been fixed, and all of the boxes were gone. In their places, however, were furnished items, belongings, and decorations that sure as hell didn't belong to me. There was a high-tech refrigerator and modern stove where the adjacent apartment's living room had been with a modern elongated set of counter-topped cabinets separating it from the new dining room, which I noticed had an actual glass table set and two black leather chairs.
My sea green suede couches had been moved to better suit the design of the room, and there was a new wall that closed off the kitchen, giving it a boxed-in feeling. Two doors resided in that wall, one of which was open enough to reveal what looked like a bathroom, the other shut tight.
I looked at everything blankly, suddenly feeling like a stranger in my own home.
After a few seconds, though, I shut my eyes tight and took a deep breath.
I needed blood. My thirst was driving me insane. I could feel my heart pounding against my chest, but I didn't see Sebastian anywhere. I didn't want to die, so I decided to walk over to the fridge and check if he'd moved my blood into the new freezer.
Can't say I was surprised to see it was completely empty.
Just as I was shutting the freezer, however, the door beside the new bathroom opened and a familiar hulking figure lumbered out into the open. I saw him turn out of my peripherals, saw the way his shoulders went rigid, saw his fists clench, and every part of my insides flinched.
Externally, I didn't move a muscle, simply stared at the stainless steel before me.
"I need blood," I somehow managed to say, although my voice came out so hoarse it was almost unrecognizable and I could have sworn I heard a frog laughing at me somewhere in the distant reaches of my mind. "Like, now."
He didn't move, and neither did I.
I wasn't going to look at him.
I wasn't going to provoke him.
I wasn't going to fight.
"Too bad," Sebastian said a little vindictively. "You can hold off for a few more days."
"My body doesn't work like that," I said calmly, hands shaking, needing blood. "I can't just not drink blood."
"You can and will," he growled, voice hardening into a gravelly rasp. "Go back to your room."
"I can't," I whispered, face flaming, heart thundering, every part of me on fire. "I need blood."
"Keep talking and I'll break your nose," he sneered. "Then you'll have plenty of it."
Something came over me, then.
It was almost like an absence of all feeling, but with something new under the surface of my thirst, something that grew as I stood there, staring at the metallic sheen of something that didn't belong to me. My eyes scanned the surface several times before I just, snapped.
Rage imploded from within me - a level of fury I'd never felt before in my life, boiling my blood and making me act before I could think. I didn't care if he killed me. In fact, I hoped he would.
Taking a deep breath, I turned my eyes on him, and with every fiber of hate that I was capable of feeling, I started singing. A wordless, haunting melody, infused with my anger and all of my hatred, and I willed him with all of my fucking might to fall asleep. He seemed frozen for the first time since I'd met him, staring straight at my eyes, completely caught up in my actions.
I sang.
And sang.
And sang, fists clenched, fangs on full display, venting my hate, and anger, and pain.
And his eyes fluttered; I watched, face twisted, as he fell to his knees, head swinging down, breathing hard. His hands clenched, then relaxed, then clenched again and vice versa. I saw him try to cover his ears, but the motion made him lose his balance and he fell flat on his stomach.
"Wretched... snake," he mumbled, almost incoherently, muscles limp and eyes closed. "I'll... I'll... kill..."
He trailed off, and his breathing changed, signaling that he was unconscious.
I looked down at his fallen form with anger still crawling all over my skin, like tiny bugs that stung and bit, pinching little burning pinpricks, heaving for air. I glared down at his massive body, sneering at the simple white tank-top that covered his broad back.
I fully intended to skirt around him and walk outside before reality hit me.
The monster who'd upended my life was unconscious on the floor in front of me.
He was completely at my mercy.
I could kill him here and now if I wanted to, I realized, eyes widening in shock. I could cut his throat, or stab him, and this nightmare would be over with for good!
And as fucked up in the head as it made me feel, some part of me considered doing it until another, far more tempting idea took hold of me. I licked the tips of my fangs and glared at his neck, which was covered by chocolate-colored ringlets that were only a single shade darker than his caramel-colored skin. He didn't want me to get blood from other people?
Fine, I wouldn't.
I'd get blood from him instead.
"Payback," I hissed, squatting down beside his prone form and dragging the neck of his shirt down; I pushed his hair aside, fully intending on going for his throat, but I saw something at the last second and paused, drawing back.
I blinked, furrowing my brows, then pushed the wild mess he called hair off the nape of his thick, tree-trunk of a neck, but what I saw there made my stomach churn a little.
You see, his throat was covered in puncture scars... specifically, the kind you'd see if a vampire chomped down on you. There were few places on his neck that weren't covered in twin polka-dot like spots, from the front of his throat, to the sides of it, to the muscled flesh across his shoulders, biceps, arms, wrists, and even a few places on his hands.
Worst of all, many of the long-healed wounds looked as if they'd been violent. There were tears around some of the bites, as if his flesh had been ripped open. It made me wonder just how many vampires he'd fought to get wounds like this, and how fearsome they were.
Still, for whatever reason, after seeing that I couldn't bite him.
"Why can't I be cruel, just once?" I muttered, swaying in place. "Fuck..."
I rose to my feet, fighting my way through the dizziness, and swept into my bedroom, ignoring my appearance in favor of putting on my shoes and backpack. I didn't have time to waste on my looks. My body was still boiling, but for a different reason than anger. I needed blood, and I needed it immediately, otherwise I was going to go insane.
I made sure my key still worked on my front door when I walked out, but nothing there had been changed yet, for which I was grateful. Either way, I needed to get out of this apartment, needed to find someone before he woke up and things went to hell, otherwise it was game over.
Stumbling for the stairs towards the glass door leading to the street, I unsteadily made my way out into the open, hair being blasted out of my face by a heavy wind and billowing behind me, flapping around like a wild flag.
Every part of me was so sensitive that I shook in agony.
Every puff of air against exposed skin had me flinching and cringing and writhing.
I was too fucking sensitive.
I couldn't run like I normally did, I couldn't find that much energy or presence of mind, all I knew was that I needed blood and I needed it fast. I hobbled down the street, head bowed against the shockingly powerful wind, flinching when a bright flash of light lit up the sky.
A rumble of thunder followed, signalling it was going to storm.
Nobody was within sight.
The streets were empty.
"Fuck," I groaned, letting out a heavy exhale; I tilted my head back, mouth open, trying to drink in air to quench the heat cooking my insides, but it did nothing. "Fuck..."
I'd made it almost to the bridge overlooking the river when I had to stop.
Exhaustion came over me in a strong wave as I doubled over but my ears picked up a strange shushing sound coming from behind me and I looked back, searching for someone, anyone, to get blood from, even if it meant not finding an applicable blood donor.
However, my heart actually leapt and started working overtime when I saw a distant car with its headlights on moving slowly down the road in my direction. I prepared myself to leap into the middle of the street and stop them when they were close enough, but to my actual bewilderment the vehicle pulled to a stop right in front of my building.
I blinked and straightened up, watching as the driver moved this way and that through the windshield before throwing the car door open. I squinted, trying to see who it was, and I even inhaled to see if I would recognize the smell coming off of the stranger but I was upwind of whoever it was and the gusts were tearing at me pretty hard.
After a few seconds, the figure finally straightened up and my eyes went wide.
Dark high heels, long white legs, a beige knee-length skirt, a baggy cerulean blue sweater, and most recognizable of all, the wild black curls which were flying in every direction under the wind. Curls framing a pretty, young, somewhat angular face.
Louise M. Bardot, my former therapist, was standing on the sidewalk outside of my home.
Panic filled my body and before I realized what I was doing I was running down the street.
"What are you doing here?!" I cried, flailing my arms when she whipped around; I saw alarm cross her face for a second, but it was quickly schooled into a mask of seriousness. "LOU!"
"Aerin," she called, raising a hand. "Stay right there!"
I skidded to a halt and stopped a good distance away from her but she wasted no time power-walking over to where I was.
"What are you doing here?!" I repeated, fearfully clenching my fists. "I fired you the other day!"
Instead of responding she trotted even faster, heels clicking loudly against the stone. I backed away and even considered running but the moment I turned to try it she leaned down and literally ran right at me in two-inch stiletto heels.
I was caught within seconds, and her warmth engulfed me in a soft, comforting wave as she wrapped her arms around my body and pulled me into a hug. I flinched at the pain that went through me, and then I flinched again when her scent washed over me, heightened intensely.
My mouth watered since I could hear her heartbeat and the smell of her perfume was intoxicating, but another part of me was calmed since her embrace was warm... the warmest, softest thing I'd felt in years. I sank into it, every part of me slowly relaxing as she held me.
"Thank God," she said, rubbing my back. "Thank God you're still alive."
"What are you doing here?" I croaked, asking for the third time. "Why did you come?"
"I'm here to help," she said, gently threading her hands through my hair. "Not as a therapist or a grad student but as a human being. It took me a while to find out where you lived, but you know me... I never give up when I want to figure something out."
"Lou, I fired you," I hoarsely rasped, fighting to reign in my urge to bite her. "You have to leave."
"Not happening, buster," she softly chided, patting my back one more time before pushing me away and roughly gripping my arm. "Let's go. Get in the car."
"Wait, what?" I asked, blinking rapidly when she tugged me over to the rear door and threw it open. "Louise, what are you--"
"I don't care if you're a human, or a vampire, or a demon, or whatever the fuck you think you are," she said in a firm, but not unkind voice, right before she forcibly shoved me in the back seat. "I saw what he did to you. I saw everything, and I'm getting you out of here. The way he put his hands on you... it's not okay. I literally thought he was going to kill you in front of me."
"B-but where are we going?!" I spluttered, voice coming out dry and raspy. "Louise, this won't work! I'm a vampire, remember?! I can't just go running around with you! What the hell are you trying to pull here?"
"We're going to my place, grandpa," she said, smiling at me. "For the time being, you're going to be staying with me until we can figure out what we're going to do."
"What?!" I cried, panic bubbling up my throat when she slammed the car door in my face and trotted back around into the driver's seat; her hair flew around as if it were something alive as she slid inside and pulled the door shut, shifting the vehicle into drive. "Louise, stop!"
"Not happening," she said, looking over her shoulder. "You don't need to worry about things like clothes. I have a younger brother, and I'm sure his clothes will fit you since you're small. For now, though, let's just focus on getting the hell out of here, okay? You were already running away, so--"
"N-n-no I wasn't!" I spit, tripping over my own words. "I wasn't running away at all!"
"Then what's with the backpack?" she asked, leaning forward and putting her foot on the gas; I was jolted backwards against the leather seat as she started driving. "It looked like you already had plans to get the heck out of dodge."
"This is the backpack I use when I go looking for blood!" I cried, then felt my heart skip a beat and clutched my mouth when her smell hit my nose; my teeth suddenly ached, and I took a deep breath in before letting it out. "I'm not safe to be around right now. I only came outside to look for blood! I wasn't running away, damn it... and you're not safe around me."
"You know better than to try and do something to me."
"That's not the point, Louise!" I barked, finally getting mad. "I'm a fucking monster! I can't control myself sometimes, especially not when my thirst is this bad! I'm literally like a cat in heat, all I can think about is biting and getting blood from somebody, anybody!"
I was breathing hard by that point, almost agonizingly hard, but her face was soft.
"I trust you, Aerin," she said, giving me a soothing glance through her rear view mirror. "That's why I'm here. Just, try to hold out until we can work on a plan, okay?"
I don't know why but those words did something funny to me.
Maybe it was the look of honesty on her face.
Somehow she really did trust me and the mere realization of that fact allowed me to reign my thirst in a hell of a lot better than before. Waves of relief started washing over me when it hit me that I was out of Sebastian's grasp.
I didn't have to return to the prison that had once been my home. I sank into the leather, feeling every vibration run through my body as the tires bumped along the road, letting myself sway with every motion the vehicle made. I hadn't been in a car in over fifteen years but the sensation of being in motion this way somehow helped to soothe my restlessness.
Every jostling turn, every swerve, sinking into a half-awake place of contentment... it was nice.
I caught Louise casting glances back at me in the rear view mirror every now and then.
"Your eyes are blood red right now," she said softly; I blinked, turning my head to face her, the movement sending my hair across my face. "I guess... you really aren't normal, huh?"
"Well, no," I weakly admitted, then added, "but my eyes are usually blue. If they're red, it means I'm blood-starved and not safe to be around."
"Blood starved?" she asked, perfect brow knitting.
"The term I use for not consuming blood the way I should be," I explained. "It's sort of like how people become anorexic if they stop eating completely, only instead of becoming super bony and unhealthy I run the risk of losing my mind and attacking someone."
"Uh, okaaaay," she drawled, swallowing. "So, what? Why are you blood starved?"
"Hello?" I muttered, pointing at my battered face before I sighed and turned away. "I haven't been able to get rid of my thirst the way I used to since Sebastian showed up."
"Sebastian?" she asked, making a quick left turn and skillfully driving down the country road leading to the highway. "Is that the name of the man who attacked you during our call?"
"Yeah, but aside from that I have no idea who he is," I mumbled. "I don't even know how he found me. He just showed up one night while I was looking for blood and used this weird power on me to freeze my body. I couldn't breathe or anything, but I somehow managed to get out of it, and here we are."
"What does he want from you?" she asked, casting me a worried glance. "How did he become your landlord? You mentioned that you sold the property to him, but why?"
That was a good question. I couldn't really blame her for asking.
"I don't know what he wants from me specifically," I eventually said. "He threatened to kill me if I didn't give him ownership of my home. I had no choice."
She sighed, shaking her head, curls bobbing with every movement.
"Psycho," she grumbled under her breath; to me she said, "well, either way you're out of that situation now so go ahead and relax."
"I would but its hard," I whispered, eyeing her pale throat; I opened my mouth and licked the tips of my fangs, but my voice wavered a little when I wheedled, "Louise, please... would you mind donating a little bit of blood? I feel like I'm burning up from the inside out."
She jumped, looking at me with wide brown eyes in the mirror, expression drawing tight.
"Hold up," she said, face going all buggy. "Are you asking me to give you my blood?"
"Yes, that is indeed what I'm asking."
"Uh," she scoffed, instantly looking at the road with a taut expression, "look, Aerin, um... I mean, I'm all for saving you and, you know, getting you away from that creep but I'm not sure I'm cool with the whole biting thing, sooo--"
"No, not biting, I won't bite," I immediately whispered, cutting her off. "I don't bite people. Not once since I became like this have I ever bitten anyone."
"Then... how?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. "How do you even get blood if you don't bite people?"
"By singing people to sleep," I told her, but when she stared blankly, I added, "I told you during our sessions that I'm a singer and music is how I'm able to pay my bills. It ties into my ability to get blood from people. I have this weird gift to put people in trances or make them fall asleep just by willing them to when I sing. Once they're out I draw blood using medical syringes."
"Medical syringes?" she asked, brows raising. "That's how?"
"Yeah," I muttered, nodding in shame; I refused to meet her eyes. "I buy them regularly online. I usually only take blood from people who are eligible to donate organs, though."
She remained silent for the longest time, and I swore I saw the hairs on her neck stand up.
"I won't pretend I understand you or your lifestyle," she eventually said, shifting gears as she pulled out onto the highway. "I won't sugarcoat it, either... talking about this creeps me out more than I want to admit, and I'll probably need a therapist myself at some point. What I do know, though, is that you need help... and since I'm the only one who knows the truth about what's happening to you I've decided to do something about it."
That brought me back around long enough to realize something was amiss.
"How did you even find out where I lived?" I demanded, giving her an odd look. "Wasn't it part of the agreement for doing our sessions that you would never set foot near my home and you would only communicate with me through the internet?"
"It was easier than you might think," she instantly said, casting me a friendly glance. "Every time I received an online payment for our therapy sessions the transaction came directly from the fifth third bank in Waverly. So, I pulled a few strings and found your home address through a friend who used to work at that same location a few years back. She pulled your info for me."
"Isn't that illegal?" I asked, eyes widening. "You could get prison time for doing that!"
"It looked to me like a life or death emergency," she flatly retorted, eyes growing half-lidded. "I did what I felt was necessary, even if I did have to get my hands a little dirty over it. As for your other question about me not meeting you as part of the contract... you already fired me the other day, Aerin, on video. I no longer have to follow those rules. Hence why I'm here."
I didn't know how to respond to that.
"So, what happens now?" I asked in a small voice. "Where are we going?"
"For the time being I've decided that you're going to stay with me," she said, although it was a little apprehensive, as if she hadn't really thought it through. "At least until I know it'll be safe for you to go back home."
"Thanks," I said, and I meant it, truly, "but what if he finds us or tracks us down to your place?"
"Sweetie, that's highly unlikely," she said in a sassy, no-nonsense tone, even as she raised an eyebrow at me in the mirror. "I live in a top-security penthouse suite all the way down in Detroit. There is no fucking way a freak like your Mr. Sebastian could ever track us from these hillbilly boondocks all the way to the biggest, most populated city in the entire United States."
I admit, she did have a point.
Detroit had expanded in recent years, to the point where the city spanned seven full counties.
It took up most of East Michigan.
Still, I was overwhelmed and I didn't really know what to think.
"Thank you," I mumbled, settling back and closing my eyes. "Thank you for saving me."
"That's my job," she said, then paused and added, "although, I'll be honest, you'll probably have to sleep in my bedroom while I take the guest room."
"Hm?" I asked, not opening my eyes. "Why?"
"Because it's the only room in the house that doesn't have open-walled windows," she worriedly informed me. "Almost every room in my house has at least one floor-to-ceiling window with Venetian blinds. They don't do much to block out light and since black-out curtains won't work in any room but my own there's no other choice."
"I'm happy with anything as long as I'm not being hit."
"I... well, professionally, I'd tell you to relax, but personally, I'll simply say you're safe with me."
Her words lingered in my ears long after she fell silent.
My head lolled with the motion of the car.
The highway was speeding past, street lights were zooming by, casting repetitive orange patterns across my pale hands and lap as the scent of leather and soft perfume filled my nose. I leaned back, breathing deeply and evenly, struggling to control my thirst.
The muffled sound of the tires speeding across asphalt reminded me of a snake's hiss.
"It'll take us about seven hours on the road to get to my place," Louise suddenly said, making my ears twitch slightly. "Where was this Sebastian guy hanging out when we left? Your place?"
"Unconscious on the floor," I rasped, but when she twitched I reiterated, "I sang him to sleep when he refused to let me go blood hunting tonight. I don't know how long the sleep I put him in will last but it should buy us enough time to put a fair amount of distance between us and him."
"You say that as if you think he'll come after us," Louise noted. "You think he will?"
"Well, as far as I know he wants me dead," I said seriously, then reluctantly added, "and based on what I've experienced so far I'm pretty sure he's killed a lot of other vampires as well."
Her face suddenly seemed a little gaunt in the passing street lights.
"So, is he... normal?" she tentatively asked, manicured hands tightening on the steering wheel; blue nail polish resting on long, white fingers gleamed at me. "You know, a regular person?"
"Nope," I said, shaking my head. "I don't know what he is. He's not a vampire, but he's definitely not a normal man since his eyes turn yellow when he's mad, and his face... his teeth, everything on him becomes almost... beast-like. The only clue I have is that he's supposedly a vampire's worst enemy, whatever that is. I don't need to know what he is to know that he's dangerous."
Louise swallowed again, only this time it was completely audible.
"Then," she said, anxiously drumming her thin fingers while she steered, "we should probably stay out of the open. Once we get to my place, we'll lay low for a while. After enough time has passed, if he still hasn't shown up or caused trouble, we'll figure out where to go from there."
I nodded in agreement, then realized something and froze.
"But we'll still have to stop before we make it to your place," I warned, and she glanced at me, visibly confused by it; I met her gaze in the mirror as evenly as possible. "It's around eleven at night right now, so if it'll really take seven hours to get to your place, the sun will rise before we arrive."
"Oh, I already thought of that," she said, and to my shock, she took the next exit off the highway and pulled into a truck stop before getting out of the car; I twitched when the door slammed shut since the concussion made my sensitive eardrums practically bang together.
I heard the trunk pop behind me, and twisted to see the lid raise, but when she slammed it shut I noticed she was holding a huge armful of black fabric. She hobbled around to the side of the car and opened the door opposite me before shoving it all in, breathing a bit hard.
"What's this?" I asked, touching the velvety substance.
"Black-out material," she said, smiling broadly; her brown eyes gleamed when she proudly tossed her curls. "I bought a whole bunch before I made the trip down here, just in case. When the sun comes up, wrap yourself up in this until we make it to my apartment."
"What about when we have to get out?" I asked, swallowing nervously.
"Leave that to me. I'll steer you inside safely, you have my word," she said firmly, then her stern face faltered and she said, "also... about this blood thing you mentioned... we need to get back on the road as soon as possible, but if you really need blood, and you don't bite... I'll donate."
I straightened up, staring at her in actual shock.
"You will?" I asked, hardly able to believe my ears. "You're... serious? You don't... think I-"
"Oh, shut up and let's just get this over with," she flatly interrupted, looking away for a second. "This is a little known fact about me, but I hate needles, so let's not draw this out."
Warmth spread through my heart and I almost burst into tears.
I opened the car door and slid out, slamming it shut before walking around to where she was standing. The parking lot was empty save for a single semi truck, and the station's fluorescent lights buzzed and flickered dimly, illuminating the area in a flimsy way.
I sat down on the dirty asphalt and motioned for her to do the same.
Once we were both situated on the ground, I pulled my backpack off and grabbed a handful of clean syringes, which she eyed a little queasily.
"Uh, not to be rude, but are you bad at this or something?" she asked, swallowing. "That's a lot of syringes."
"They only hold five milliliters each," I informed her, uncapping the first one and motioning for her to hold out her arm, which she did a little timidly. "I usually stick people around forty times, but they never really know it since I only gather blood once they're out cold."
"S-so, how many times do you plan on sticking me?" she asked in a high, reedy voice; her face was tight and she looked really uncomfortable. "I'm not sure I can do this more than a few times. I'll faint, and then we won't be able to go anywhere."
"I can drive," I said, and she stared at me; I took a deep breath and poked her, refusing to make eye contact when she twitched ever so slightly. Red fluid filled the syringe, I watched it bubble and froth as it was pulled out of her, and worst of all, I could smell it... and it smelled good.
Nausea momentarily engulfed me, and I had to look away; I quickly pulled the needle out of her arm and emptied the blood into a bottle I procured from my backpack. Then I put the used syringe into a disposable bio hazard bag and pulled out the next clean needle. Louise kept her eyes shut, face turned away, humming agitatedly to herself as I drew her blood again, and again, and again, and again, and again, face growing sweaty, looking more and more ill.
After the eighteenth draw, she finally opened her eyes, but didn't look at me.
"Is that enough for now?" she asked a little thickly. "I'm feeling a bit light-headed."
"Yeah," I said, emptying the needle one last time and throwing the garbage away; I quickly procured some gauze and a big band aid with teddy bears on it, wasting no time to apply it to her skin. "Thank you. You're the first person who's ever done this for me."
"Well, don't get used to it," she grumbled, running a hand through her hair; she watched, equal parts fascinated and disgusted, as I brought the bottle to my lips and chugged down the blood I'd just pulled from her. My desert of a throat suddenly felt as if a soothing rain had just washed away all of the dryness, and I couldn't stop once I'd started.
I gulped, and gulped, swallowing every last drop.
With every mouthful, the burning in my body melted away into a soothing coolness.
Relief.
I stopped only when the bottle was empty and wiped my mouth, licking the blood from my teeth before I shrugged my backpack on, but when I caught her eye, I realized that she looked completely and utterly stunned. Really, she was staring at me as if I'd suddenly grown another head.
"Louise?" I asked, waving my hand at her. "Hello?"
"You just... drank that blood," she said, as if commenting on the weather. "All of it."
"Yeah," I said, raising an eyebrow. "I'm a vampire, remember?"
"Right... a vampire," she said, smiling a very vapid smile; her pupils were completely dilated, and I could hear warning bells firing off in my head, but before I could blink those dark brown eyes rolled and she slumped backwards into a dead faint.
I stared at her blankly for a few seconds, trying to process her reaction.
"Well," I eventually said to nobody. "Fuck. This blows."