There is nothing plain about Priscilla.
The moment she steps in, I feel her presence. It’s a kind of itch I get on my skin, like there are ants crawling all over me. Not entirely unpleasant, but I’d rather it stopped.
Her long dark hair and big blue eyes almost make her beautiful. Then you get to her mouth. Her smile is utterly frightening. That smile belongs on a circus leader. That’s when I know this isn’t what I expected. She’s not average, not here for a quick blood shot and then on her way. She’s here for a show.
“You’re even cuter than I remember,” she coos.
And then I remember who she is: the vampire from Jeremiah’s circle. The one who scared me.
“Why don’t you sit down?” she says. Immediately, she has to establish who’s in control. No wonder she works with Jeremiah. They probably bonded over their love of power.
I sit on the couch. Priscilla sheds her coat and stands in front of me, hands on hips.
“I see you still have neck damage.”
She puts a finger against the bruise and tsks, but I see a smile in her eyes. Her nails brush some of the torn skin and it flares up with pain. I flinch. Her eyes brighten.
“Shame. And the wrists as well. You’ve been busy, haven’t you?”
Her gaze rakes my body, taking in every inch of damage. She’s pleased. There are more ways to hurt me. She likes pain. Should have guessed that too.
“How are your legs?” she asks.
My legs haven’t been bitten in a while. Jeremiah certainly never bites there, but I don’t know if she actually wants me to speak. She raises an eyebrow.
“Well?”
“They’re fine,” I say.
Priscilla sits beside me and pouts. “Everybody makes such a big deal about all female Night Houses, but I like girls just fine.” She smiles brightly. “They’re much more sensitive.”
Goosebumps rise over my arms. She takes my hand and fondly regards my less scarred wrist. “Finn tells me you’re AB negative.” Her eyes are practically giving off their own light. “Jeremiah says something different.”
Her nails run up my arm. I keep expecting her to dig them into my skin. Her gaze is piercing as she watches me, watches for my reaction. I don’t know what to watch, her eyes or her nails. This is her ritual. She wants to keep me guessing. So when she finally slices her fingers across my arm, I yelp. Teardrops of blood spill over my skin. It’s nothing compared to a bite, but I gasp for her. I’ll give her a show if that’s how I’ll get my part of the deal. I can handle the pain.
Or at least that’s what I think. But Priscilla is an experienced teether, one who knows exactly how long to bite before too much nauth gets through. One who feeds before she comes here so that she doesn’t have too much nauth to give.
I am her reward, after all. Her reward is causing pain.
James must hate me.
James
I don’t know how I made it to Shiloh’s bed.
“What can we do to help?” he asks.
Bianca’s voice comes back to me. Get some sleeping pills or something. I don’t, though. I can’t take the easy way out. I’m not going to fight her drug problem with more drugs. I’ll get through it. I’ll show her I can.
“Nothing,” I say.
The two of them stand back and watch me. Ally sits by the bend in my legs and touches my knee. Shiloh sits on the table and wraps a hand around my upper arm. This is what Bianca’s missing. The pain eases.
“Will it help to ask you questions?” Shiloh asks.
“Maybe,” I say. I don’t think it will do anything, but I want to hear their voices. My sister and my best friend. When it comes down to it, all they want is for me to be okay. So I let them talk to me, and I try to talk back. They help me forget how badly it hurts, but I can’t forget the part of me that’s buried so deep into Bianca’s head that for a terrible moment I think that I like the pain.
I recite my mantra of It’s her, not me as I try to block it all out, but with every new bite, I find myself drawn more out of this room and into Bianca’s head.
Bianca
Someone had to carry me to my room, again, but only because I couldn’t walk with my thighs all bitten up.
Finn leans against my wall and stares down at me with dull eyes. “You won’t be able to show your legs for a week.”
“I didn’t ask for this,” I say.
“And your neck is still bad. You’ve been taking too many appointments lately,” he says. “You need a break.”
I stop talking, stop breathing. The tiny amount of nauth I got tonight won’t hold for long. If he cancels more appointments, I won’t get it for even longer.
“I can work, Finn,” I tell him. “Just don’t schedule me with thigh guys.”
“Bianca.” He looks me dead in the eyes. “I won’t have you killed.”
The reality of this hits me. Finn thinks I need a break. Finn, the one who sees the world in dollar signs.
“You stay here, and I’ll give you blood in a minute. I need to talk to some clients. Wrap up your legs,” he adds before walking out of the room.
I’m so bad, Finn wants me to take a break.
I crawl out of bed to sit in front of the mirror, where my gauze and wraps for bad bites are waiting. I prop my legs on my dresser and am about to begin wrapping them up when I catch my own reflection’s eye.
That can’t be me.
She’s ugly.
Her face is skeletal, with sunken cheeks and bone-white skin. There are dark circles under her eyes, more like gashes than bruises.
I reach my hand out and touch the mirror. She touches it back.
She’s crying.
I grab the glass of water on my dresser and throw it across the room. But I’m too weak and it doesn’t even crack. I can’t do anything right. And now my arm is sore.
How did I let it get this bad? This isn’t living. I am just scraping by, barely enough blood to keep me conscious. And I still can’t stop my hands from shaking at the thought of going a day or two without nauth.
But I have to keep going. I’ve come this far and lived through much worse. I can fight my way out of this too. I will.
When Finn returns, he stands over my bed.
“Jeremiah said you agreed to join him for a function.”
This night is just not going my way.
“I told him I was very surprised,” he goes on.
I try to keep calm. Finn can’t know about Micah. No one can. Vampires respect strength, and without fangs you may as well be dead. Micah told me that fang-less vamps stand trial sometimes, just for being too human. Those trials never end well.
“It’s just one time, right? It’ll pay a lot. Maybe enough for me to get out of here.” I shrug, trying to make it seem nonchalant. At least money is a motive he’ll understand.
He is silent for a moment. Then he concedes, “Yes, he offered much more than my normal rate. I told him that you had to be back before sunrise. He’s willing to pay much more than I usually charge. And I can be sure the Monarch will treat you nicely.”
I scoff. “Right. No offense, but I can’t really expect the guy who writes the rules to care too much about them.”
“Maybe, but you can be sure he cares about appearances.” Finn stares at me. “You need blood.”
“You think?”
His eyes narrow ever so slightly as he sits on the edge of my bed. Then he bites his own wrist and holds it out to me. “Don’t take much. I’m still working.”
Finn’s blood tastes odd. Sort of like perfume and misery. I assume that’s because he drinks from the girls here. He pulls his wrist away from me when I’ve had enough and steals gauze from my dresser to wrap it up quickly.
“Don’t get out of bed for the rest of the night.”
“Finn, I can work—”
He slams the door shut. I try not to scream. My arms itch. I take two Tylenol and two iron supplements, then collapse in bed. I apo
logize to James in my head until my body starts to quake. It’s near impossible to resist the urge to scratch my wrists until they bleed. My bones ache. I feel it in every joint, and in my head, and under my skin and in my gums.
Nauth would make it go away.
The thought occurs to me and just as soon, I am screaming into my pillow because I want it more than anything in the world, but I shouldn’t. I don’t want to want it, but I’m not strong enough without it.
James
We wait until it’s good and dark out before we set out for home. I just don’t want my parents to see me limping through the door with imaginary bite marks.
Shiloh and Ally are on either side of me. It’s much better by this point, but I don’t trust myself to make it alone.
Every new street we pass, I find myself reaching out with my senses, hoping to God that I don’t feel a vampire lurking in the shadows. Ally, too, seems to be on guard. Shiloh is just flat-out unhappy.
“Dude, you’re a mess.” He can barely bring himself to help me along.
“Thanks, you look nice too.”
“Damn it, I’m serious. I’ve never seen you like this. It’s not right.”
“Nothing about me is right.”
Ally squeezes my side. “Come on, don’t say that. You’re a good guy. You’re the most right. Everything you do is right. But Shy has a point. You’re in pain. It’s not fun to watch.”
Their concern is like an itchy blanket on my skin.
“I appreciate it, guys, I really do. But this isn’t about me anymore. Bianca needs my help.”
“You can’t help her in some less exhausting way?” Shiloh half teases.
I grin at him. “Sorry, but I’ve made up my mind. There’s got to be a way.”
“A way for what?” Ally gets her keys out as we approach our front door. Shiloh keeps me upright as she gingerly unlocks it. She pokes her head through and softly calls hello before waving us in.
“A way to get out of there.”
Ally takes a breath and holds it in her chest for a few seconds. “My mom was there for years. She tried to leave, but she couldn’t. What makes you think Bianca can be saved?”
I stare at the floor then, because, my reason sounds stupid. Because I want her to. Because I like her.
“She hates it there. She just doesn’t think she’s strong enough without it. Maybe I can show her the strength she already has.”
But first, I have to find my own.
Bianca
I wake up, terrified that I’ve slept past noon, and I jump out of bed to check my alarm clock. Ten fifteen. My legs scream with pain, and I fall to the floor.
Idiot.
My vision spins, and I hold my head. When I’m back on this plane, I slowly sit up and lean against my dresser. After a few minutes, I rise to my knees, then to my feet. My whole body feels cold. I go into the kitchen and stuff my face, but I still feel like I shed fifty pounds last night.
This morning I sit in the tub because it hurts too much to stand. I run the water cold at first, to wake myself up and to bring down the swelling in my legs. I see my thighs for the first time since last night. They’re not as awful as they would have been without Finn’s help, but they still look like I’ve been attacked by a wild animal.
I guess I was.
My closet presents a challenge as I try to dress modestly for the day. I manage to find a black skirt that covers the bandages around my thighs, a tiny cardigan and my scarf.
Then it’s eleven thirty, and I have to go. I try not to make noise. If Finn found me sneaking out, he would probably break my legs just to stop me from leaving.
It feels like I’m getting punched in the stomach with every step, so wherever we go better not be far.
Ideas float around in my head when I see James sitting on the bench. He’s definitely more awkward than normal, but I can’t place what’s off. Something about the way he’s sitting.
“Hey,” he says and slides over. “Please sit down.”
“Oh…” I sit with my head hanging low. “You’re in pain.”
“A little,” he lies. I stare at him, and he says, “Okay, yeah, I’m in pain.”
Before I can yell at him for being an idiot, he speaks again.
“I know vampires don’t like sunlight, but what exactly happens to them?”
“It’s like when we’re in darkness. It’s more scary than it is harmful, because they know that they’re vulnerable. They can’t see as well.”
He nods, but it doesn’t seem to ease the jumpiness in his gaze. “So they wouldn’t go out unless they absolutely had to?”
“Yeah. James, what’s wrong?”
He pulls at the edge of his sleeve “Nothing, really. Maybe I’m just worried about your boss not liking what I’m doing.”
My mouth goes dry. “He sent someone, didn’t he?”
“It’s nothing, Bianca. Really.”
“No, it’s something. Tell me what happened.”
He shifts around, still debating whether he should tell me. “Last night, this guy came up to me. Okay, not a guy, a vampire.”
“You’re sure?” I ask. “It’s hard to tell the difference.”
“Well, I’ve never met a human with fangs,” he says, and I hear anxiety slip into his voice. “He didn’t do anything. Just scared the hell out of Ally and me.”
“He didn’t hurt you?”
“No. Just made an impression.”
I keep my hand on his arm. “I’m really sorry. The only thing that will make him go away is if we stop—”
“I know.” He takes my hand off his arm. “What happened to you last night? There weren’t any drugs.”
I cover my face. I really don’t want to have to explain everything about my job, but I guess he has a right to know, now that he’s working it too.
“Sometimes, the clients are there for the biting, not the blood.”
He shivers. “So that kind of thing has happened before?”
I nod.
We go silent. The awkwardness of the bite site doesn’t need to be mentioned. He feels it too. But it weighs on my mind.
“James…” My voice is heavy. “We can’t—”
He puts his hand on mine and squeezes it tightly. I freeze.
“Please, Bianca, let’s at least try to enjoy ourselves a little.”
We both stare straight ahead, and I try to ignore his hand. He’s holding my hand. I’m not in high school. This is stupid. He was only trying to get my attention.
Then why is my pulse getting faster?
He feels everything I do.
“Okay,” I say and pull my hand away.
“Do you have any suggestions?”
“Not really.”
He starts to say something, but it catches in his throat.
“What?” I ask.
“Well, you could always come back to my house. I think you’d like it.”
My first thought is that walking into a house full of people who can feel my pain is the opposite of a good idea, but then I remember he was adopted.
“Does your family know about me?” I ask.
“I told my sister and my best friend Shiloh, but my parents don’t know. They don’t even know about my ability.”
“But your sister?”
“Isn’t home,” he says. “None of them are. My parents took her to a concert in New Jersey.”
“Call a cab, because I’m not walking.”
“Thank God,” he breathes.
James
A cab picks us up at the corner of the park. With her back to me, she stares out the window. I find myself mentally tracing the lines of her: the angles of her bent legs, the circles of her scarf, the ridges of her spine. Then I turn my head away because it feels like I need her permission before I can admire her like that.
She’s feeling a lot, but the last thing I expected her to be was nervous. Her gaze travels up the front of my hous
e, a little surprised at how big it is. I’ve never felt embarrassed by my family’s status before. When I open the door, she slips past me and walks into the foyer, turning in a slow circle.
“So, how long have you lived here?” she asks.
I put my hands in my pockets. “Almost six years.”
“How many places have you lived?”
“It’s been a while since I moved, but…maybe ten? More? I’m not really sure. I was a hard kid to place.”
She smiles just a little. “You got me beat, then.” She stands in front of one of the paintings. It’s just huge gashes of color in the white canvas. Bianca holds her hands behind her back and tilts her head to the side.
“My mom did that,” I say. “She calls them stress paintings. Whenever she needs to get an emotion off her chest, she just sort of throws it at the canvas.”
She nods, and I feel her understanding. Leaving her to admire my parents’ work, I head into the kitchen so that I’ll stop looking at her. Soon after, she sits on a barstool at the island behind me.
“I was going to have some aspirin and water,” I say. “Should I make that two?”
A smile plays at her mouth, but she denies it. “Aspirin is a blood thinner. Do you have Tylenol?”
“We got everything,” I say and open up the cabinet full of vitamins, tea, and medicine.
“Are you guys health conscious or what?”
I hand her a bottle of Tylenol. “They’re vegan, actually. It’s kind of the same thing.”
I sit across from her and slide her glass of water over. She takes it and swallows three pills.
“So Ally is your parents’ biological daughter?”
“No, she was in foster care too. The Fieldses adopted her, and she kind of convinced them to adopt me when I was twelve. She was that girl who always wanted a sibling.”
Bianca stares into the glass before drinking the last of it and sets it softly on the table. Her gaze is fixed on her hands. The self-loathing is hard to take, the way it comes off her in waves, crashing into me. She wishes she hated me.
“I like you,” I say, my voice far too quiet.
The Night House Page 14