by Molly Harper
Nola stared at her but said nothing.
“Well?” Ophelia cried.
Nola shrugged. “That’s not how it works. You just have to suffer through it until the curse on Nik is broken, however that happens.”
Ophelia’s face crumpled just a bit before she managed to get it back under control. “I understand.”
“Good luck with that, Ophelia. I’ll see you tomorrow, dark and early,” I said, pushing up from my chair and striding from the room with my middle finger in the air.
Nola followed close on my heels. “Are we going to tell her there’s no spell on her?” she asked quietly as we walked toward the elevator. “And that the symptoms are all in her head?”
I shook my head, pursing my lips. “Nope.”
12
Know the difference between an acceptable loss and a hemorrhage.
—The Office After Dark: A Guide to Maintaining a Safe, Productive Vampire Workplace
I left Jamie to figure out what to do with his insane girlfriend. I didn’t know whether telling her it was all in her head would make her feel any better, and frankly, I didn’t care.
I did, however, file a complaint with Mr. Crown about Ophelia’s behavior. And for once, he actually sounded cheerful, as if my report of Ophelia’s trying to maim me and then refusing to name the witch responsible was the best news he’d heard in centuries.
Armed with information, I raced across town to tell Nik what I’d learned. The drive gave me much-needed time to think. What did Ophelia mean by a “loving sacrifice”? Did that mean one of us had to die? Did it mean we had to give something up, like a prized possession? It could be interpreted so many different ways, but I seriously hoped it didn’t mean the death thing, because that would suck.
Surely we could find a way around it. I would deploy the full resources of the Jameson-Cheney-Calix Collective, and we would find some super-clever solution to this problem that didn’t involve death or insanity. Now I just had to explain to Nik that my blood had been used to make him Ophelia’s supernatural bitch. That was going to be an awkward conversation.
I pulled into the Victorian’s driveway. Nik’s car was there, but I saw that Jed’s truck was gone, and the lights were out on their side of the house. I jogged across the lawn and was surprised to find the door unlocked.
“Nik!” I called, dropping my bag by the door and stepping out of my shoes. “I have news!”
Silence.
“Big curse news, Nik! This was not the reaction I was expecting!” I yelled, walking into the parlor, only to find Nik sprawled across his couch, fast asleep. “Aw.”
As cute as he was, all vulnerable and sleep-tousled, it was weird to see a vampire take a nap. In general, they didn’t want to waste a minute of their evening, when they could be out being all badass and bite-y. Was Nik ill? Maybe switching back and forth between fugue states was draining his energy? Was there such a thing as Flintstones chewables for vampires?
I thought about waking him up, but the expression on his face was just so cute. He looked innocent and young, like a regular human boyfriend my parents would be downright tickled if I brought home. I couldn’t bear to wake him. So I settled for retrieving my phone from my bag and taking some pictures, because I’m all class.
Iris was wrong. I’d watched her relationship closely enough that I knew what I would be giving up if I attempted a relationship with Nik. I could be losing the chance to have children, grow old, live a violence-free life. It was a chance I was willing to take.
With my brand-new screen background in place and my phone secured in my bag (where I could do no more damage to my reputation as a non-creep), I crawled onto the couch next to Nik and snuggled my head against his chest. “If you don’t wake up, I’m going to take advantage of you while you sleep. Meaning I will take more pictures, only they will involve putting funny hats and fake mustaches on you.”
No response.
“Dude!” I exclaimed, laughing. “We’re not supposed to get to the sleeping-through-date-night portion of our relationship for a couple of years.”
Still snoozing like a little vampire baby.
I threw my leg over his hips and straddled him, crossing my arms over his chest and resting my chin on my hands. “Niiiik. Wakey wakey! Or I’m going to go upstairs and start without you.”
Nothing.
Rolling my eyes, I leaned forward and kissed his mouth. Finally, he stirred, rolling his hips under mine and sliding his hands up my arms. I broke away, grinning down at him. “Hey, there, Sleeping Beauty.”
Nik’s eyes opened, a hazy and faded blue.
Shit.
“Nik?” I whispered, as his lips pulled back in a snarl. “Damn it!” I yelled, springing back from the couch and over the coffee table. He jumped to his feet in a predatory crouch. I was trapped. I couldn’t duck around him to get to the kitchen or the front door. And I couldn’t exactly bolt for the window Bruce Willis style. Even if I did manage to get out of the house, I couldn’t outrun him down the dark country road back to town. I had to have my keys, which were in my bag, by the door, which I couldn’t get to. With my phone. And all my weapons.
This was the worst date night ever.
I sighed. “Damn it, Nik, I really don’t want to have to do this again.”
Growling, he lunged at me, and I sidestepped around him. He looped his arm around my neck, dragging me backward. I dropped all of my weight and yanked down on his arm, turning him on my hip and throwing him to the floor. Unfortunately, he managed to grab me around the waist and drag me down with him.
“Ow, Nik!” I griped as he snapped at my neck. I grunted, shoving the bony edge of my forearm against his throat, keeping him outside biting distance. I wrapped my leg around his, thrust my hips up, and rolled us so I ended up straddling him.
“This is not how I wanted us to end up in this position,” I told him.
Nik struggled, but I was able to keep him pinned by some miracle of cursed vampire uncoordination. It gave me a precious few seconds to consider my next move. A loving sacrifice. Could that mean that instead of resisting him, I should submit to the attack? Let him bite me? Would he snap out of it before he drank too much? Would he hurt me beyond healing? His teeth looked so sharp, flashing even in the low light of his parlor.
Would my arm count? Would having Nik’s teeth wrapped around my wrist like a bracelet be painful enough to be considered a sacrifice? I wiggled my arm up his neck and across his mouth, while keeping him pinned. But Nik resisted, working his chin around my wrist to snap up at me.
My arm wasn’t sacrificial enough, it seemed. I took a few quick, deep breaths and leaned forward, my face screwed up as his bared fangs loomed closer and closer to my throat. Squealing, I closed the gap, pressing my neck against his mouth. He sat up, crushing me to his chest. His fangs sank deep, and the pain took my breath away. My fists beat blindly against his shoulders as I tried to jerk away, but Nik’s arms had me trapped.
Of all the stupid things I’d ever done, this was by far the stupidest. But there was no turning back now. And if I started having regrets, maybe the magic wouldn’t work, and I would have to do this all over again.
I would have to have a long talk with myself later about my subconscious’s passive-aggressive death wish.
Nik’s mouth worked at my neck, pulling my blood in huge mouthfuls that left me feeling cold and dizzy. I panicked, panting and blinking away hot tears, but I refused to think about how quickly I’d lost control of the situation or how close I could be to death. I focused my thoughts on my feelings for Nik, the love and affection I had for him, and how badly I wanted to help him. I pictured a life together free of fear, a real life that allowed us to be open with Cal and Iris.
And pretty soon that picture started to fade, because I was losing too much blood.
Struggling against him, I worked my arm free of his iron
grip. I reached back to slap at him or jam my thumb into his eye, but a little voice in my head stopped me in mid-swing. Trust. I had to trust that he wouldn’t drain me dry. This was the sacrifice.
I slumped against him, my arm falling slack to my side. I was so tired, too tired to keep my arm up. Hell, I was too tired to balance on my knees over Nik. My weight dropped bonelessly against him, and my knee fell forward, hitting him square in the crotch.
The pressure at my neck disappeared as Nik cried, “Oof!”
He flopped back against the couch, dragging me down with him. I landed face-first against his chest but managed to prop myself up on my elbows. It was amazing how not having your life’s blood sucked from your jugular improved your upper-body strength.
“Ow,” Nik grumbled. His eyes slowly cleared, and he seemed completely confused about why I was on top of him. “Gigi? Who kicked me?”
“Now you come out of it?” I mumbled. “Now?”
“Why do I taste . . .” He paused to smack his lips. “You?” He glanced down at the wound on my neck, and if it was possible, he seemed to go even paler. “No, oh, no, what did I do, Gigi?”
“I let you bite me,” I told him, as he tore a strip off his shirt and pressed it against my neck wound. He stood, dragging me with him, sweeping me up. “I made a sacrifice . . .”
“Damn it, Gigi.” He grunted, sprinting to the kitchen and grabbing me a full-sugared Coke. “How much did I take?”
“I’d say I’m short a few pints,” I said, giggling weakly as he propped me up and held the soda can to my lips. “Do I get orange juice and a cookie?”
“That is not funny,” he told me sternly, carrying me out to his car.
“I disagree.”
“Keep pressure on it,” he said, placing his hand over mine as he pulled out of the driveway. “I am taking you to the hospital for a transfusion. And maybe some psychotherapy. Why the hell would you let me bite you?”
“I don’t think I need the hospital,” I protested. “I just need some fluids. And a cookie. I let you bite me because I wanted to break the curse. Do you think it worked?”
“I am sure it did,” he assured me.
“Good,” I said, closing my eyes and leaning my head back against the seat rest. “I need you whammy-free, so Cal and Iris will relax and let us date.”
“Whammy-free?”
I nodded. “I wanna walk through a parking lot unscathed, just once.”
“That sounds reasonable. Stay awake for me.”
“OK.”
• • •
I didn’t stay awake.
I woke up in a cold, institutional room with an IV hooked up to my arm. I tried to move to my left side but realized I had to amend that to “arms.” One IV was pumping blood into my right arm, while another pumped saline into the left. And there was a little plate on my nightstand with a chocolate chip cookie.
Damn it, Nik had taken me to the hospital. Though, from what I remember, Half-Moon Hollow Hospital didn’t have pale gray walls. The hospital rooms were painted light blue. And this smelled wrong. Rather than the strong scent of disinfectant, I smelled freshly brewed coffee and new carpet. It was an aroma I’d become used to over the last few months, the smell of the Council office.
This was bad.
“Hello?”
No response.
“Hello?” I yelled, sitting up in the bed and examining the IV port. “How the hell do I get this thing out of my arm?”
Mr. Crown walked in, and I actually recoiled in my bed, IV forgotten. He smirked and dropped an outdated copy of People onto my sheets.
“Miss Scanlon, erudite as always. How are you feeling?” he asked.
“I feel uncomfortable with the fact that I’ve been unconscious within arm’s reach of Ophelia.”
Mr. Crown’s smile went frosty. “Ophelia has been relieved of her duties until an investigation into her actions is complete . . . or until she provides the name of the witch who cursed Mr. Dragomirov. For now, she is under house arrest. You do not have to worry about her ‘visiting’ you. Mr. Dragomirov did the right thing bringing you here. I can’t have one of my vampire investigators draining an intern, no matter how confused their sexual entanglement,” he said, a vague expression of annoyance crinkling the corners of his mouth. “It’s unseemly.”
“Where is Nik?” I asked.
“Gigi?” I heard a voice call through the infirmary door.
“Tell me you didn’t call Iris.”
“Gigi?” Iris burst through the door at vampire speed, stopping just short of toppling onto my hospital bed.
I groaned. “You called Iris.”
“Gigi!” she exclaimed, checking me over as if I was a newborn baby—fingers, toes, eyes, and nose. “Are you all right?”
“It’s OK, Iris,” I croaked. “I’m fine.”
She took a deep breath and made a visible effort to lower her voice. “You’re not fine, Gigi. I can’t believe you let a vampire drain you. Have you learned anything from my life?”
“They’ve got me all topped off.”
“Don’t you dare make jokes right now,” she said.
“Well, I’ll leave you to your dramatics,” Mr. Crown said with a sigh. “When you get out of here, Miss Scanlon, you will have a lot of paperwork to complete.” And then he strolled from the room like an undead Tim Gunn.
“You need to calm down,” I told Iris. “You are verging on a Mom moment. Remember that time she came screaming up to the school in her bathrobe because the school secretary told her you’d tripped coming off the bus? And everybody saw her running across the lawn in her floral-printed nightgown, flapping in the breeze, and you stopped talking to her for three weeks?”
I closed my eyes and slipped my hand over my eyes, ignoring the painful tug of my IVs.
“They actually have forms to fill out when one employee exsanguinates another?”
“Yes, they do.” I felt the mattress dip under Iris’s weight as she climbed into bed with me. I kept my eyes closed, even as she rested her chin on my shoulder. I just couldn’t stand to see the “I told you so” face. “So Cal says, please don’t date that vampire. And you think the reasonable response is to immediately date that vampire.”
“Yes.”
“So, do you have any questions for me?” Iris asked. “Dating a vampire can be confusing. There are differences in your schedule and diet and attitudes toward sex.”
“Iris.”
“You may have noticed, the biting, it can be really uncomfortable,” she said. “We do that a lot. I mean, every time we have sex. There is a lot of biting. It’s expected.”
“You are not going to scare me off of dating a vampire. Jerk.”
She tipped her head carefully against my shoulder. “This isn’t what I wanted for you. But I shouldn’t have tried to push a normal life on you, Gigi.”
“I’ll be OK, Iris. Really.”
Rising onto her side, she cradled my cheek in her hand. “I just need to know, why are you risking so much to be with someone who could hurt you? Who has hurt you?”
“Why did you risk so much to be with Cal? You could have lost custody of me. You could have been rejected by the few living people in the Hollow we had ties to. Because you loved him—overwhelming, crazy, stupid love, completely free of logic and occasionally pants. I used to watch you guys and think, I want that. I want the kind of love that makes you forget what’s good for you or what makes sense. With Ben, I liked him a lot, and he made sense, and he was good for me, but there was no . . . spark, you know? And I know that rational people say the spark is a myth, and you shouldn’t base important decisions on gut feelings that could be hormones and/or intestinal distress. But I believe in it, because you have it. So basically, you have no one to blame . . . because I learned it from watching you.”
“Don’t use log
ic and precedent against me.” Iris sighed. “It’s just unfair.”
• • •
I was released from the “hospital” into Iris and Cal’s care. Nearly losing all of my blood had merited me three days’ sick leave, most of which I spent sleeping in a chaise longue in the backyard to soak up some sun. I didn’t want to compound my already bizarre health problems with a case of rickets. I kept track of my team’s work through e-mail, but I wasn’t allowed to come near the office until I was cleared by Nola.
A strange sense of quiet hung over the house, as almost every vampire man in my life seemed to be avoiding me. Cal had a pretty hard time speaking to me, but it had more to do with his own guilt about bringing Nik into my life than with being angry with me. Likewise, Jamie was avoiding my calls. Jane said that he was having trouble processing what Ophelia had done and his role in it. She assured me that he’d be back to annoying me as soon as he “pulled his head out of his butt.”
And Nik was on complete radio silence. He didn’t call. He didn’t visit. He didn’t even send a note. It was as if he’d never existed. Every time I spoke his name, everybody clammed up and avoided eye contact.
When I was really low, the old fear that maybe I’d imagined the whole thing came back. I wondered if my “hospitalization” had actually been a trip to a mental-health facility. I was sitting on my front porch after sunset, drinking orange juice and trying to figure out how exactly one asked one’s sister, “Hey, you would tell me if I’d hallucinated a vampire boyfriend, right?” when Nik stepped out of the shadows of our yard and walked up our front steps.
For a hallucination, he looked . . . well, he looked like hell. Pale and haggard and about as well groomed as walk-of-shame Ophelia. I stared at him. He stared right back, but his eyes were their normal color, so I wasn’t worried about a second round of draining. I had so many things I wanted to ask him. Where had he been? Why hadn’t he come to see me before now? What the hell was he thinking? But instead, what came out of my mouth was “Are you still cursed?”