Chapter Two
"Why don't you try to get some sleep?" I suggested. "There's some stuff in the fridge if you're hungry. Help yourself."
Remembering how he had spent the entire night outside my flat without moving, I decided I needed to be more specific.
"Listen, Carl, look at me. You have to take care of yourself without me telling you to. Anytime you're tired, sleep. You're hungry, eat. When you're thirsty, drink. Whenever you need to use the bathroom, go find it. You get dirty, clean yourself. If you're in danger, save yourself. Even if the danger is from me, okay? I'll be back soon."
We had spent the entire morning in the same apartment, and now I was ready to eat him alive. Literally. A bit of fresh air and some space would do me good. I locked him into the flat, unwilling to risk him following me. He wasn't happy about being left behind, but it was for his own good.
It was a bright winter's morning, and the streets were relatively empty. I grabbed a sandwich from the nearest shop and made my way to the park. A woman bumped into me, and my fangs shot out straight away. I retracted them, but being so out of control rattled me.
"Wish I'd let the damn vampire eat him," I muttered to myself, scaring an elderly man who was passing by.
I sat on a cold bench in a quiet corner of the park. It was nice not being close enough to a human to want to bite them. But I still worried about Carl. I had to get rid of him-to protect him from me. I would never hurt him on purpose, but I had come too close to crossing the line to ever trust myself with him.
I shivered from the cold and the niggling insistence I had to call someone for help. I was out of my depth and didn't exactly have a list of people to turn to. Only one person knew the full truth about me, and that had caused the distance between us. She hadn't treated me well, yet I grew up craving her love and acceptance-no matter how much she failed me. She was my only familial link, the one my mother charged with my care, the one who could have loved me but didn't.
At twenty-five, I could now stand as her equal. I could defend myself. But the thought of asking for her help made me feel like a child again. She'd always wanted to cure me, as if I were diseased. Facing the idea of asking her advice cut deep. I didn't want to prove her right, but I had nobody else in the world to turn to; I ensured that when I ran away and made a life of my own, intentionally alone. The choice was out of my hands; I had to put pride aside to help Carl.
My stomach churning, I held my mobile phone to my ear and waited for a familiar voice to answer. One word threw me back into my past. The silver crosses, the holy water baths, the daily prayers to God for cleansing. The mistake I made that forced me to leave. One hello from Nancy, my grandmother, and everything I bottled up threatened to break loose.
"Hello?" she said again, her voice impatient. I hesitated, already regretting the call. I wasn't sure what to say, or if she'd even want to hear from me. Our relationship has always been strained at best.
"Ava?" she whispered. I swore silently. How on earth did she know it was me? I cleared my throat, stalling as always.
"Uh, yeah, it's me."
"Ava," she repeated, relief washing the tone of her voice, much to my surprise. "Are you okay? Where are you?"
"I'm all right."
"Do you know how long I've been worrying about you? Seven years. Seven years, Ava! Without a phone call or anything! How dare you do that to me?"
I sat back and let her words roll over me. The familiar anger in her voice was almost comforting. I ran away when I was eighteen, after an intimate moment with my first serious boyfriend almost turned into a bloodbath. Too ashamed to go back home, I did what I could to make money and finally got a place of my own. I didn't go far. I settled for a rough area she wouldn't be caught dead in.
"Granny," I interrupted. "I need your help. I've... done something. I don't know what to do to fix it."
Her intake of breath was sharp. But her voice became brisk and business-like. "Is there a body?"
My insides curled up in shock. "No, I haven't... I don't hurt people, okay?"
"Then what is it?" Her voice was too calm for my liking.
"There's this guy, Carl. I don't know him or anything. I just happened to be around. I, uh, smelled something. A vampire attacked him last night. I helped him get away, but now he won't leave me alone. I think I've done something to him. I don't know what, but he stood outside my door all night, waiting for me."
"Is he stalking you? Have you called the police?"
I almost laughed. I could only imagine the police trying to deal with Carl. "It's not like that, Granny. He's not himself. It's like he has a spell on him. He thinks he's my slave or something."
"Is that a bad thing?" The amusement in her voice loosened me up completely.
"I'm freaking out here! I can't be around him; he keeps offering himself to me. His neck, you know? I'm scared, Granny. I don't know what to do. It's like he's trying to get me to bite him. I can't control myself; you have to help me. Please, tell me what to do?"
A couple of tears rolled down my cheeks. My hands shook again. I had to have the worst of both sides: the weakness of humanity and the overwhelming thirst of vampirism. I sniffed noisily, overcome by self-pity and frustration.
"You could come and stay here. I could help you control it."
I brushed away my tears, angry at her words. "How? You gonna make me kneel on the floor and pray for my sins? Didn't work before, remember?"
"There's no need to be a smart mouth." Her voice trembled a little. The way we reverted back to our old relationship annoyed me. Her, the victim. Me always having to apologise for the way I was born.
"I'm sorry. This is hard for me, okay? I can't go back there. You know that. I have to figure this mess out." I tried to swallow my bitterness for Carl's sake.
"You can't do it alone. If you're asking me for help then you're in big trouble, that much I can tell you. If you won't come here then I can give you a name and address. There's a man I've come across who knows about things like this. He might be able to help you. Will you go see him?"
I nodded obediently before remembering she couldn't see me. "Yeah, okay. I'll see him. Thanks."
"Before I give you his details, I need you to promise me something."
"What?" I said warily.
She took a shuddering breath.
"I want you to keep in touch with me. I want my granddaughter back. And I need you to remember you are human. Not a vampire. Not a demon. Not evil. I'm sorry it took me so long to realise that. You have a problem, yes, but it isn't bigger than you. You can do anything you put your mind to. Remember that when the thirst kicks in." She moved on briskly, giving me the details of the man she knew and telling me to be careful. She hung up before I could thank her.
I typed the man's contact details into my phone quickly before I forgot them. Peter Brannigan. I was pretty sure the address was in a nice part of town. I imagined Brannigan to be a middle-aged librarian living with his cats. I wondered how my grandmother had even come across him and if he was the real deal, or yet another con artist.
The entire conversation with her had been surreal. I sat and stared at my phone for a few minutes, completely overwhelmed. The day before, I had been sure I would never talk to the woman again. Yet here I was, listening to her talking about my thirst like it was nothing.
I was born in my grandmother's house, shortly before my mother died from a vampire's bite. She refused to go to a hospital, saying they would find me. Whatever she said convinced my grandmother that not only did vampires exist but that her grandchild would be a hybrid version who needed to be kept hidden. My start in life was a secret. That was rule number one in our family, so it was strange for my thirst to be acknowledged by my grandmother in such a relaxed manner.
I could only remember her telling one person the truth about me. That woman had appeared to be the real deal. She was the
one who told us vampires hadn't been able to turn humans in over a century. She warned us that secrecy was imperative, and she even tried to mend the damaged relationship between my grandmother and myself. She disappeared before she could finish the job.
I knew I had to go back to the flat, but I figured if I brought food then Carl's scent might not hit me as hard. I unlocked the door and dumped the food on the table, keeping a careful eye on Carl. He had been asleep on the sofa and was stretching lazily, giving me a charming smile.
"Hungry?"
He nodded eagerly. I gave him some of the food and took the rest, standing at the counter to put space between us. It was nice being close to him without feeling compelled to bite him. It was almost normal. I had company for dinner for the first time in seven years. I nearly smiled.
I wasn't sure how being enthralled worked, if his brain worked properly, if he'd even remember all of this later. But I decided to treat him like a normal person as much as possible. Just in case his mind was still his somewhere in there, and he was freaking out internally.
"Is there anyone who might be missing you? Someone I can ring?"
Carl looked up dreamily, shook his head slightly and went back to devouring his food.
For someone who had spent almost seven years spending as little time with humans as possible, I was strangely disturbed by Carl's lack of chatter. I found myself waffling away to make up for the quiet. Twinges of guilt snapped at my insides when I thought of his worried family.
"Carl, if you're freaking out and scared and can't, you know, express it? Then I want to say I'm not planning on hurting you. I'm trying to figure this out. Promise."
He looked back at me solemnly.
"Talk to me. It's weird when you don't. What age are you? Do you have a job? Family? Anything like that?" I wasn't used to making small talk; I hadn't a clue how to initiate conversations. Especially with a complete stranger I'd accidentally enthralled.
"I'm... twenty-seven. Engaged. Live with her. Maria. I work... in an office, accountancy." He scrunched up his nose and squinted, like he was trying really hard. Oh, God, what have I done?
"Engaged. Wow. You must be planning the wedding, yes?"
He put his fork down and looked thoughtful. He seemed to make a conscious effort to gather his thoughts and speak to me properly.
"She is. I don't want to." A pained expression settled on his face.
"Don't want to plan or get married?"
"Get married. We're together ages. It's what you're supposed to do."
"I'm pretty sure you're supposed to do what makes you happy."
He looked directly at me, clarity in his eyes. But it passed within seconds. His eyes dulled again, and he went back to his food.
"Don't worry, Carl. I found someone who might be able to help sort out our little problem. Then you can go home and forget all about me."
He shook his head. "No, thanks."
I was afraid of that.
"Whatever it is you're feeling, it isn't normal. This isn't what you really want. And it's dangerous for you here. I'm a danger to you. So you need to go. Okay? Trust me, you'll thank me later."
He smiled blankly at me. It was frustrating trying to talk to him, so I gave up. "Go watch TV or something for a while."
I finished my food and went to lay on my bed, thinking about what to do next. I could visit the man my grandmother recommended, Peter Brannigan, but we might not be back by dark, and I didn't want to risk that vampire seeing us again. He was bound to return; I saw how curious he had been.
I decided it would be better to leave as soon as it got bright the next morning to avoid trouble. Vampires couldn't handle sun light, so daytime meant protection. Unfortunately, during winter, there weren't that many daylight hours; I had often spotted vampires out and about just before dusk. My biggest problem, however, was spending another night with Carl.
I had been okay while we were eating, but now I wasn't doing anything in particular, my ears kept zoning in on his pulse again. I began to imagine what he tasted like. I clawed at my clothes, bit at my knuckles, and struggled to stay still, wondering if it felt anything like a junkie's withdrawal. Carl knocked at my door, right on cue, as though he knew how I was feeling.
"I'm trying to sleep. Go away!" I shouted at him, my voice bordering on hysterical.
I had to keep him away from me. He was all too willing to be a victim. I reminded myself he had a family somewhere, people who would miss him if he didn't come home. I remembered my grandmother's words.
I'm bigger than my thirst; it doesn't own me. I repeated that sentence in my head over and over again until I dozed off.
My dreams were all about Carl. He was in the alleyway again, pinned against a wall, his eyes wide with fear. But it was me holding him there, my eyes that glowed red. It was me nipping his neck and licking his wound slowly, sensually.
I awoke crying, my stomach growling with hunger, my heart racing with need. I heard him move and prayed he wouldn't come near me because I was way too close to the edge. I stayed awake, pretending to read, until daylight came. I was counting on Peter Brannigan to solve all of my problems.
I showered and dressed then stuffed myself full of cereal and toast, hoping to get out of the apartment without killing Carl. I sent him into the bathroom to get washed up.
"Don't even attempt to shave," I hollered at him through the door. The last thing I needed was for him to cut himself on a razor. I nibbled on chocolate until he was ready.
"We're going to see a man called Peter," I told him. "He's going to help us. You'll snap out of it, and everything will go back to normal." I didn't add what else I was thinking-hopefully, he could help before I tore Carl's throat out.
Carl moved toward me suddenly, catching me unaware despite my edginess. He held my arms and moved close to me. My heart pounded with anticipation. I lifted my face and nuzzled against his chest, inhaling his scent and relishing the feel of his heartbeat against my cheek. I realised I was licking my lips again when he jerked his head down and brushed his neck across my mouth.
My fangs shot out rapidly, shocking me into action. My head fought against my instincts, and I pushed him away as hard as I could, even as my mouth opened to bite him. I stumbled backward, losing my balance as Carl fell to the ground. I lay there panting, half afraid to move.
"We have to get out of here," I muttered, the thirst almost blinding me with its intensity. The angry girl inside hadn't been much help this time, and my head felt like it might explode.
"It's okay, Ava," Carl said, moving close to me again.
"No, it really isn't. Don't come near me!"
He stopped moving straight away, to my relief. I wasn't able to control the thirst. It would always get the best of me. It was like an animal trapped inside me, wild and feral. I'd never tame it. I needed help.
I had no choice but to reach out and find it.
Thirst (Ava Delaney #1) Page 2