Chapter Twenty-Five
I climbed into the back seat after Nik, too tired to walk around to the passenger door. I felt exhausted and knew only part of it was due to the recent adventure. I glanced out the window at the dark gray clouds. The sun was near the horizon, though not visible through the Seattle weather.
“Where are we going?” I asked as we reached the bottom of the hill and turned onto a road that wound along the edge of Lake Union.
“I don't think we should risk driving all the way back to Olympia. We'll get a motel and wait the day out before driving back,” replied Josh. I had never seen him in the position of leadership. He did it well.
“What about Nik? He needs blood.” As if on cue, Nik slumped toward me, resting his head on my lap. I checked his wounds which were oozing all over the leather seats.
“We'll figure that out once we're safe.”
Josh drove us south on I-5 all the way to SeaTac, where he stopped at a Motel 6. It turned out Josh drove just like Nik—really fast. Or maybe it was just the danger of the situation. When we reached the motel, both Josh and I were visibly fading. Nik, on the other hand, was completely unconscious. The clock on the dash read 7:49 am. No wonder we felt awful.
While I checked on Nik's wounds, Josh pulled on a blood-free jacket clearly belonging to Nik and scurried into the office to book us a room. The holes puncturing Nik's body were continuing to heal, but at a far slower rate than I'd seen the previous morning. He didn't even wake when I poked and prodded the edges of the gaping holes. I expected to grow nauseous as I peered closely at the gore of it all. Instead, I felt the thirst rise up inside me.
I pressed my lips together and pulled away from him and his blood. Josh approached. From the trunk, he pulled out a blanket. We draped it over Nik before pulling him from the backseat. He stayed unconscious as Josh carefully lifted him off his feet. We tried to stay inconspicuous since the parking lot was not exactly empty. Other visitors were loading their suitcases into their trunks or climbing onto the bus that would take them to the nearby airport. It's difficult to act casually when a five foot nothing man is carrying a six foot something bundle of blankets. Nearly everybody took at least one good look at us.
I frantically shoved the plastic card into the slot and yanked the door open. Though we could have easily broken into one of the many rooms, I was glad we were abiding by the law. Josh dumped Nik on the bed and collapsed himself. I suddenly felt guilty, having forgotten about Josh's own wounds. I should have been the one carrying Nik into the motel room, but that would have drawn even more unwanted attention.
Though I handled the blood and pain at Nik's apartment, I suddenly panicked. Here in a motel room, with Nik unconscious, I realized I had no idea what to do. I doubted Motel 6 stocked A Positive in their mini bar. But they needed blood. I tried to ask Josh, but he had already drifted off. I inspected the hole in his shoulder. As expected, it was healing nearly human slow. I wondered if either of them would be able to drive us home. I cringed at the idea of driving the sports car we had taken. I should call Mikhail! I thought about it more.
Maybe I'd keep that as a last resort.
I went to check on Nik. He stirred slightly. I chose to wake him, or at least try. After a few gentle shakes, his eyes fluttered open. He glanced around the room, comprehension not coming to his green eyes.
“Where are we?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.
“Motel. The sun just rose. What can I do?”
“Blood.”
“We haven't got any.”
His eyes began to flutter and close. I shook him again. When he forced his eyes opened, he repeated himself. “Blood.”
“He needs blood,” Josh said from his spot on the floor near the doorway. He reached up and flipped the deadbolt—something I had forgotten to do.
“But we don't have any. What do you expect me to do… conjure some?” I asked, glancing around the tidy but plain room.
“There are humans all over this place. Grab one,” Josh added as he slowly pushed himself off the floor.
“You're joking right?”
“He needs blood. We all do.”
“You're not going to die. You can wait until nightfall,” I argued. I hoped it was a truthful statement. I felt blood oozing down my back from what I imagined was the largest of my wounds. It made my whole spine throb. “When night falls I'll drive you two home.”
“And if we get attacked?” Josh asked, motioning in the general direction of the car. “We did just steal from a fae lord after all. Do you really think you can defend us from Periphetes?”
I swallowed, knowing the answers to his questions.
“We have to drink,” whispered Nik from the bed. I wanted to help them; they were my friends after all… well, Josh was. And I was thirsty. Horribly so. I hated leaving both of them in pain, but I couldn't willingly take a human life. I shook my head, my resolution staying firm—probably because there was no actual temptation in the room. Their blood, though pleasant smelling, wasn't enough to make me lose control.
For the first time, Josh gave me a withering glare. He turned from me, unlocked the door, and slipped out into the gray light. Our room was positioned so that the walkway was well shaded by the building from what sunlight managed to pierce the thick cloud cover.
What was he doing? I almost went after him, but even wounded, Josh was older and stronger than me. Besides, rousing attention was the last thing I ought to do, and he had a jacket to cover his wound. I knew what happened to those who drew attention to our existence.
A moment later, Josh returned with a young man dressed in slacks and a suit jacket that didn't quite match. The man carried a briefcase and glanced around the room in a business-like manner. When he spotted Nik bleeding on the bed, his brown eyes widened and he tried to back out, but Josh stood in his way. The short vampire finished closing the door and flipped the deadbolt. The businessman flinched at the soft thud and moved as though he were planning on shoving Josh out of the way, but Josh was faster. He grabbed the man by the arm and twisted it behind his back. For the first time, the businessman let out a noise of shock and pain.
Josh pushed him toward Nik, forcing the man's arm over Nik's face. The older vamp’s eyes widened and he clamped his mouth over the man's hairy wrist. The businessman gave a gurgle of surprise and tried to pull free, but Josh was there, already pushing the collar of his suit jacket out of his way. Before their food could begin to truly fight back, Josh had sunk his own teeth into the man's neck.
The smell of blood filled the room, masking the scent of cigarette smoke emanating from the man's suit, reminding me that I too was very hungry. I pushed the thought down, forcing myself to take slow breaths through my mouth. When this wasn't enough, I ran into the tiny bathroom and shut the door. I turned the water on cold in the bathtub and climbed in, fully dressed.
The frigid water helped shock my brain back into sanity. I continued to breathe through my mouth as I splashed water on my face. As my mind continue to clear, I relaxed into the cold water until only my head poked out the top. When the water was starting to lap against the emergency drain, I used my foot to push the nozzle down.
There were no sounds from the bedroom. No doubt the men were resting after their meal. I cringed at the thought.
How could they?
I hesitated, my eyes suddenly burning with what I expected would soon be tears. Despite everything I had seen, I had allowed myself to believe Nik and Josh never killed people. Though I never deluded myself into thinking all vampires survived on blood bags, I had hoped at least my friends would value human life.
The tears began streaming down my cheeks and mixing in with my cold bath water. I didn't try to stop them or wipe them away. I didn't just cry for the loss of the stranger's life, but for the part of me that was dying. I had always considered myself an ethical person, but what had I just done? Nothing. And that was the problem. What was the quote everyone spouts when faced with moral dilemmas? “Only thing evil
men need is for good men to do nothing… ” or something like that. I was now part of those supposedly “good” people. I let them do what I knew to be wrong, and a man had died as the result.
I felt worse for this than I had after killing a woman myself. It slowly dawned on me that last time I had not exactly been myself and, though I felt remorse, it didn't feel like my crime. What few memories I had of attacking the woman in the alley were only strange details, like the taste of her suit before the blood began to flow. I couldn't even picture her face.
In the present instance, I was fully aware of myself, or at least, conscious enough to know what was happening was wrong. I could completely imagine what the businessman had looked like as the panic set in. There was no excuse for my actions or lack of actions.
The worst part of it all was that a part of my mind understood their reasoning. If we were attacked by the fae or any other sort of mystical being, I would be a sad last defense. Without my bodyguards, I was pretty much helpless—baggage, as Nik had put it.
We all have these moments when we fail to maintain our moral standing. It's just that most of us do it by telling a lie or failing to tell the banker he gave you an extra twenty. So few people stop to consider what their ethics would be after murdering someone.
I remembered my father always saying my morals were all I had to call my own. Boy, how I had failed him. I'm sure he had never imagined his baby girl becoming a murderer, something he would fear, something that would crave his death.
And so I let the tears fall freely down my cheeks.
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