by Molly Harper
And he just looked so damned sad that I sighed and said, “Fine.”
He nodded toward the door and held it open for me. I made every effort not to come within two feet of touching him, much less making eye contact. He moved silently at my left, staring through me as if I had the secret meaning of life tattooed on my neck.
I finally found my car, clicked the keyless entry, and tossed my purse onto the passenger seat. I held on to the door for a long moment, thinking very carefully about how I wanted the next few minutes to play out. I could get into my car and drive away. I would never see him again. And I would know that I’d at least had my dignity when he left me. He hadn’t seen me cry over him or whine and beg. But I couldn’t let him leave without asking, “Do you think your sacrifice broke the curse?”
“Gigi. I am sorry.”
“Yes or no, Nik?”
“No,” he whispered. “Nola says it is still there.”
“So even though this plan of yours hasn’t worked, you’re going to leave me anyway?”
“Maybe if it is more final, maybe if I actually lose you, the requirements of the curse will be met, and you will be safe.”
“OK, fine. That’s just fine.” I blinked back tears, staring down at the pavement so he wouldn’t see them. I wanted to tell him that I missed him, that I was being a jerk, that I shouldn’t have pretended I could get through this without being hurt. But the lump in my throat kept me from saying anything. I couldn’t seem to take a breath deep enough. I sank back against the car behind me, shaking off the waves of cold and dizziness that radiated through my head.
“Gigi?”
“Nik,” I began, swallowing and trying to dislodge the pressure. But it stayed there, like a stone wedged in my windpipe. I coughed, clutching my neck. “I don’t feel very well.”
I wheezed, forcing myself to inhale deeply, just so I felt that I was getting some oxygen into my lungs. This wasn’t just a lump in my throat. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t draw enough air to produce more words. My eyes went wide, and I looked up to Nik. He cradled my elbows in his hands and let me down gently to the ground.
I opened my mouth and tried to force air into my lungs, but I just couldn’t seem to take it in. My lips started to tingle, and I felt so tired I just sank back onto the asphalt, boneless and weak. What was happening to me? The worst possibilities spun through my brain. A heart attack? A stroke? I was too young for either, but that didn’t stop my chest from feeling as if I was wedged under a Mack truck tire.
A crippling wave of nausea rolled up from my belly to my throat, threatening to spill everything I’d eaten for the last two days onto the pavement. Could I have food poisoning? The milk in my coffee had tasted off, but I didn’t think a little spoiled cream would hit me this fast. None of this rational, linear thinking seemed to matter much, as a cloudy white haze of pain spread over my brain, making me howl.
“Gigi? What is happening?”
“Can’t breathe,” I wheezed, clutching at his arm. My panicked, shaking fingers ripped at my collar, anything to help pull air down my throat.
Nik pulled out his cell phone, dialed, and began speaking in a rapid-fire language I didn’t understand. He dropped the phone to the ground and pulled me into his lap. “Gigi,” he said, eyes wide and looking more frightened than I had ever seen him. “We have discussed this before. But now, I ask you again. Do you want to be turned? Or would you rather die before becoming a vampire?”
I tried to say yes, but the sound wouldn’t come. I wanted to nod, but I couldn’t seem to make my head move. My lips moved silently, begging him, Please, help me, please! Anything but dying like this!
Nik nodded, his fangs dropped, and he snapped them down onto my neck like a striking snake. I would have screamed if I could from the pain of his fangs tearing through my skin. He drew huge mouthfuls of blood, even though he recoiled from the taste and spat it out. He bit my wrists, leaving gashes, letting my blood flow onto the ground.
I couldn’t even cry out from this new slashing pain. I was so cold. I was so tired. He pulled and pulled at the wounds on my neck, seeming to gag with every mouthful. He bit at his own wrist, leaving his own blood running down his arm. He held it over my mouth. I turned my head away so it wouldn’t drip on my face, but he turned my head, forcing it against his torn skin.
“Gigi, you have to drink.” I parted my lips, licking them tentatively as the blood dropped into my mouth. It was sweet, like melted bittersweet chocolate, flowing over my lips and into my throat. I wanted to pull the arm close to snuggle against him and curl around him like a cat while I drank from him. But I was just so exhausted I couldn’t move. Even the act of opening my mouth to swallow his blood seemed like an insane effort.
Nik bit into his free arm and switched, pushing this new free-bleeding wound against my lips. It was too much, too fast, and I turned my head away, coughing, fighting to draw breath
“More, my Gigi, you have to drink more for it to work. Come on, sladkaya, please,” he begged, cradling me against his chest.
I opened my mouth, tried to drink more. But I was just so scared, so tired. I couldn’t think. Everything around me seemed to be spinning, and I couldn’t help but think this would be the last time I would see any of it. I was drowning, dying, choking on the air I couldn’t pull into my lungs. My heart stuttered and sped, like a broken-down horse lunging for the finish line.
Nik’s face swam in front of my eyes. “Drink,” he whispered, nudging the wound against my mouth, but I shook my head.
This was it. With a strange clarity, I finally grasped that this was the end of my life. No more Christmases. No more birthdays. No more snow or rain or starlit nights. No more breakfasts with Cal ruffling my hair and making me late for work. No more movie nights with Iris curled up on the couch.
Iris.
Oh, God, Iris. I knew that Cal would take care of her, help her not feel so guilty, but I hated that I was leaving her alone. She’d been right, of course. I should have left the world of vampires alone. If I’d just taken some office job at a human company, I wouldn’t be dying in a parking lot. I’d be bored as hell, but at least I’d still be alive.
With all of the will I had left, I forced my arm to move, reaching up to touch Nik’s face. My fingertips left bloody trails across his skin. I drew enough breath to whisper, “Love you.” I smiled.
“Drink,” he commanded, forcing his wrist against my mouth.
I gagged as he forced more blood down my throat. I felt tears, hot and bitter, running down my cheeks and soaking into Nik’s jeans.
“This part is always difficult,” he told me. “But when you wake up, you will be like me.”
My heart sped up, beating like a wild, trapped animal against my ribs. And then it didn’t beat at all.
14
Working with an undead office staff requires adaptability. You will learn to think on your feet, or you will fail on the flat of your back.
—The Office After Dark: A Guide to Maintaining a Safe, Productive Vampire Workplace
Jasmine.
My room smelled of night-blooming jasmine, heady and sweet.
Why did my room smell of jasmine?
I sniffed, rubbing at my eyes. “Iris?” I croaked. My mouth felt sore, raw, and dry as the desert, as if I’d just had my wisdom teeth yanked out without anesthesia. My puffy unicorn slippers were waiting at the end of my bed as usual. I could feel the weight of the moonstone flower earrings at my lobes. I was dressed in my favorite Soft Kitty pajamas, which I did not remember putting on. For that matter, I didn’t remember going to bed the night before. And I was thirsty as all hell. I smacked my lips. Not just cotton-mouth thirsty but bone-deep, just-crossed-the-Sahara thirst that threatened to close off my throat at any second.
Had I been sick? Considering the fuzzy head and dry mouth, drunk seemed more likely. I didn’t remember going out the
night before. And I definitely wouldn’t get fall-down drunk with Cal and Iris at home. Why couldn’t I remember anything from the night before?
I slowly sat up and shook my head. I felt strange, and not just hungover strange. It felt as if I was forgetting something really important, and when I realized what it was, I would feel really stupid.
Almost every surface in my room was covered in vases containing arrangements of jasmine. “Iris? What’s with the funeral sprays?” I called.
I squinted around the room, blinking. Everything was in perfect twenty-twenty focus—better than twenty-twenty, really. I could see everything. The bit of dust I’d missed the last time I’d cleaned my desk. My friends’ cramped handwriting on cards hanging on my pinboard. I could count Ben’s eyelashes in our prom photo. That couldn’t be right. I squinched my eyes shut. Without visual stimuli, a multitude of noises came roaring through my ears. I could hear the clinking of glasses against the kitchen counter. I could hear muffled voices—Iris and Jane, no, Andrea saying something about a Friends and Family of the Undead meeting. I could hear the engines of cars driving down the highway five miles from our house.
I waited for my heart to race or my breath to quicken. That’s when I realized what I’d forgotten. Breathing. I’d forgotten to breathe this whole time. And of all the things I could hear, my heart was as silent and still as the grave.
Oh, holy crap on a cracker, I was a vampire.
“Iris!” I yelled, standing too quickly and bolting across the room on my unsteady baby-vampire legs. I could move so quickly now, so easily. It was as if I’d spent all of my human years covered in some weird jelly film, and now I was free. I hopped up onto my bed, landing flatfooted like a surfer on a board. Grinning madly, I leaped to the ceiling, clinging to the plaster by some miracle of gravity avoidance and crawling along like Spider-Man.
“Whatcha doin’?” Iris asked from the doorway.
“I believe she is enjoying her first moments as a vampire,” Nik said, appearing behind her shoulders. “Are you going to come down, Gigi?”
“Not anytime soon!” I giggled, rolling in a somersault over the ceiling fan, around the doorjamb, and into the hallway. I slid down the bannister on both feet and sprang back up to the ceiling, where I moonwalked into the parlor.
“Very mature, Gigi!” Iris called down the stairs.
“I’m permanently twenty. That means I don’t have to mature!” I yelled back.
“I did that on my first night,” Jane said, sighing with vampiric nostalgia.
“Yeah, but you accused me of slipping you drugs,” Gabriel said, snorting, as I dropped to the floor in the full Batman crouch. Nik followed, jumping over the bannister and joining the gathered vampires as they watched my theatrics. I launched myself at them and wrapped one arm around Jamie’s neck and the other around Nik’s. Cal chuckled, ruffling my hair, while Iris caught up to me and kissed my cheek. Vampire group hugs were the best.
“I am so sorry,” Nik whispered as my family withdrew from the hug. “I am so sorry I hurt you. I am sorry you had to be turned. I am sorry I made you think I did not want you. I am willing to be less of a, what did you call it, Jane?”
“Emotional jerkwad,” Jane supplied.
“I refuse to say it, but yes, that,” he said. “I want to be with you, Gigi. Even if it makes Cal very uncomfortable. Even if it makes me uncomfortable. I am willing to change. I even bought a laptop.”
“Wow!” I gasped.
“He bought a computer? That’s how he shows he’s changed?” Gabriel whispered.
“I’ll explain later,” Cal murmured.
“Thank you,” I told Nik. “Thank you for being there when I needed you. I love you.”
“Never forget that I love you, too, sladkaya,” he whispered.
I wiped at my eyes, shaking off the emotional moment I was experiencing in front of every person I loved.
“OK, so we’ve established that Nik is part of the pack now. So am I hot?” I asked, turning toward the mirror over the mantel. “I bet I’m super-hot, because I was at least a seven before.”
Iris buried her face in her hands. “And so modest, too.”
I stared into the mirror. I was hot. Well, not just hot—dangerous and beautiful, a predator who attracted and pacified her prey with bright colors and smooth textures. My skin shone with that porcelain perfection only the undead could manage, making my cornflower eyes seem even larger and more electric blue. My hair was a richer chicory color with coppery highlights and a more lustrous sheen. I smiled, showing teeth so white it almost hurt to look at them.
My fangs dropped, razor-sharp, nicking my bottom lip. I winced and raised my fingers to my bee-stung lips, where a ruby drop of blood welled against the soft pink cushion. Nik caught my hand, eyeing my mouth hungrily, and ducked his head to rake his tongue over the wound as it closed, healing now that my vampire cells were revved up and ready to realign.
The parts of my brain that were still somewhat human rebelled at the very idea, but the rest of me, the primal, predatory creature I’d become, delighted in sharing my blood with the man I loved. I welcomed a kiss from my sire, winding my arms around his neck and practically purring as he drew at the wound.
“I can’t look,” Cal muttered. “Tell me when it’s over.”
“I heard that.” Laughing, I broke away from Nik, who groaned softly and dropped his head to my shoulder. “I can hear everything. I can see everything. I can smell everything . . . Gross, Jamie, is that how you always smell?”
“Under normal circumstances, no. I did this special for you,” he said, raising his arms and advancing on me. “I haven’t bathed in three days, and I may have rolled around with Fitz for good measure. You made me worry, Gigi. Armpit vengeance is mine.”
“Remember when I was little and I used to beg Mom and Dad for a baby brother?” I asked Iris. “I was wrong.”
“This isn’t what I wanted for you,” Iris said, brushing my hair back from my face.
“But it’s what I wanted.” I glanced at Nik. “It’s what I asked for.”
“I’m slowly coming to accept that. I’m just sad. You were the last of our line,” Iris said, sniffing. “I was kind of counting on you to carry on the family name.”
“Who’s to say I was going to have kids in the first place?” I laughed. “I would be a terrible parent. My hours are weird, and I can barely remember to feed myself, much less another person. Besides, it’s not like there aren’t thousands of Scanlons out there to carry on the family name. It’s not that unique.”
“You know, I said the same thing to my mom, and she got really quiet, then drank a whole bottle of cooking sherry,” Jane said. “So far, your conversation is going better.”
As Jane said the word “drank,” my mouth seemed that much drier, Dust Bowl dry, and I could feel my fangs stretching through my gums. Weird. I touched my fingertip to them and winced, watching a droplet of blood well from the tiny wound. The wound disappeared almost immediately.
I felt as if I could drink the contents of a whole Igloo cooler and come back for more. A scent wafted through my bedroom door like fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies and roast beef and curly fries and all of my favorite foods all in one. My mouth watered, and I could actually feel the drool spilling over my lips.
Classy.
“What is that?” I asked Nik, wiping discreetly at my mouth.
“I heated something up for your first feeding,” Dick said, coming through the door to offer me a steaming mug of deep red liquid. “It’s donor blood, AB negative, which is super-rare. We wanted you to have something special.”
“Unless you wanted to try a live feeding first,” Iris said. “Which is probably better for you, to get used to the process. We could call a surrogate service right now and have one here within the hour. ”
“Don’t hover, sweetheart,” Cal chided gently.
“I don’t think I could wait,” I said. “Also, I don’t think I’m ready for the whole biting experience yet. So I’ll just take what’s in that cup.”
I took it from Dick’s hands, even though my own shook with a hunger so fierce it made my belly tremble. He winked at me and wrapped his fingers around mine to steady me. “Over the lips and past the gums, look out, tummy, here it comes.”
“Please don’t nursery-rhyme me right now,” I said, shaking my head. I raised the mug to my lips and blew instinctively on the liquid, even though I knew it wouldn’t be hotter than ninety-eight point six. I looked up and realized that all of the older vampires were watching me.
“Could you guys turn around or something? You’re making me nervous.”
There was a collective chuckle, but they all turned around to give me some privacy. Nik’s expression was faintly wounded. “Even me?”
“Nah, I need someone to tell me if I have a blood mustache.” I licked my lips over the blood, inhaling the dark, delicious fragrance and letting it roll into my mouth.
Blood was fan-effing-tastic. Nothing had ever tasted so good, so sweet, so savory. The Japanese had a word for it—umami—a flavor that hit all five basic tastes at once. Which reminded me, damn it, that I was never going to have sushi again. But as I took another sip of donor blood, I thought I could live with that.
I drained the last of the mug and was relieved to find that my throat didn’t feel as if I’d been gargling barbed wire anymore.
“OK?” I asked Nik, who brushed his thumb over my top lip. He winked at me and gave me a long, smacking kiss.
“Stop that!” Cal groaned.
“Can we turn around now?” Jamie asked.
Nik’s lips pulled away from mine, and I shut my eyes tight as images flooded into my brain. Nik hovering over me as I struggled to breathe. Nik draining me, even though my blood seemed to burn his mouth. The sensation of his blood flowing down my throat. His whispering that I would be OK, that when I woke up, I would be like him.