I grab my iced coffee from the counter and head back toward the booth I shared with Arsen and Jackson the other day. I ignore the twinge in my heart at the thought of him and focus instead on eating my chocolate chip muffin.
I just need to figure out how to protect myself from being used or overpowered by these vampires and all their twisted ideas of fun and games.
As if on cue, my cell buzzes again. I secretly hope to see a message from Arsen, but instead, Jackson’s name flashes on the screen.
I’m sorry.
I stare at the text for a few moments. My thumb hovering over the keys, typing a reply and then erasing each response to his two-word apology. The longer I stare at it, the more frustrated I become.
He’s sorry for what? Lying to me about being a vampire hunter our entire lives? Letting me think I was all alone while I turned into a bloodsucker? Or his subtle threat that if I bit someone, he’d hunt me down and kill me.
Another text comes through, interrupting my mental tirade, and I rub at my temples to relieve the tension.
You’re still my best friend
Even if you are one of them.
Even if we are worlds apart now.
You’re still my best friend.
I’m really sorry.
I feel a sting in my heart at reading these words. The longing for me to say it’s okay can be seen throughout them. I still don’t know what to say. It isn’t okay, but I am at fault, too.
I can’t say it’s okay, but I’m sorry too.
I was really rude to you.
I shouldn’t have yelled.
You’re still my best friend too.
My thumb trembles over the send key on the last sentence. I don’t know why. Maybe a sense of fear? Am I really sorry or is it safer for him to be at a distance since I really don’t understand the full extent of what is going on with me?
I hit the send button. The anticipation of his reply makes me anxious.
Then a thought strikes me. Who better to help me become stronger? To help me learn how to defend myself against a vampire than a vampire hunter?
As a hunter, Jackson has to know all of their weak spots and how to exploit them. The skills he can teach me will give me an edge and ensure I’m not helpless the next time Nikolai and his crew attack innocent people.
Another text runs through my phone just as I prepare to write my own.
I understand.
Call me when you’re ready to talk.
Jackson, I need to ask you for a favor.
Can you meet me next to the library?
The sidewalk near the science cold storage unit.
Yeah, I’ll be there.
What time?
What time do you get off work? After that is fine.
I’m off around 6:30. Meet around 7 pm?
Sure thing.
I watch the clock for the rest of the afternoon like a kid desperate for summer break to begin. Nikolai surprises me with a visit in the lab but then leaves suddenly without an explanation when I don’t acknowledge him. His anger is palpable, filling up my workspace like a noxious toxin. Not that I’m concerned with his feelings or wishes. I’m glad I can rattle his cage. Besides, the last thing I need to do is explain where I am going.
Though part of me would love to drop that bomb in his lap. Where are you headed? Oh, just for some lessons with a vampire hunter.
At 6:45 p.m., I take off my lab coat and sneak out of the compound, ditching my babysitter Niko has assigned to watch me and drive across town back to the lab on campus. I swear I used to have a life outside of science labs, but I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t headed to or from a lab.
Jackson paces outside the library on the sidewalk. It used to be a patch of grass, but after the dean of the school tripped over a mound of dirt during a campus tour, it got paved with concrete to make it easier to walk over.
The loud chiming of the school clock echoes throughout the campus as I approach the building.
“About time, Sasha. I was fixing to go and find you. What took so long?”
“Sorry. Had to sneak out past my guard.”
We stand still and quiet, neither of us knowing how to break the ice first.
“So, what’s this favor you needed to ask me?” Jackson finally asks.
“I need you to teach me how to defend myself against vampires.”
Jackson rocks back on his heels, blowing out a surprised breath. “You want me to teach you how to fight vampires?”
“Well, yeah. You’re a hunter. You know all of their weaknesses and how to combat them.” I act like I know what I’m talking about and try not to kick myself for almost saying, “all of our weaknesses,” and “how to combat us.”
Jackson watches me thoughtfully. “You’re serious.”
“Dead serious.”
“Okay then.” He nods. “It’s probably going to be tougher than anything you’ve ever done. Ever imagined. Even as a vampire. I won’t go easy on you.”
“I think I can handle it. Just teach me how to defend myself and remember that you can’t stab me with any pointy ends when you train me.”
“Good thinking. I’ll make sure we don’t use anything that could result in permanent death.” He chuckles.
He’s quiet again and I can’t stop thinking about how ludicrous this conversation is. I’m sure there’s some sort of vampire handbook that argues horribly against the agreement I just made. But I’m not like other vampires, and Jackson isn’t just any vampire hunter. Still, there’s probably a poster up in all the compounds with my picture on it and a caption that reads, “Self-loathing with strong, self-destructive tendencies.”
“So, when do you want to start?”
I rub my hands together in excitement. “How about tonight?”
Chapter 10
“Tell me again why we are doing Tai Chi? You were going to the teach me how to fight.”
Jackson sighs as he steps back from the position called “pulling the crane’s tail” and faces me. “Are you all right?” Jackson scrunches his eyebrows in consternation.
“Yes. You said you'd educate me on how to handle my opponents, how to surprise them when I attack, instead of making me flutter my arms like some goddamned ballerina.”
Jackson’s face flushes. I hit some sore spot. The air whooshes, and my back slams against the wall of our makeshift gym with his forearm crushing my larynx.
“You mean like that?” he snarls. His jaw clenches and his eyes hold death as surely as my new vampire “friends.” His hot breath hits my skin with the heat I no longer have in my bones.
I’d swallow but his arm would have prevented the reflex if I still had it. My vampirism has muted that response. Many human reactions, I find, like breathing and blinking, are more habits than necessity and it freaks me out. Okay, more than freaks me out.
At night, alone in my room, the call of prey I resist with every inch of my being sings through my blood and tortures me. As my vampirism grows stronger, I hear the beating of hearts and capture the scent of fresh meat on my tongue, begging me to hunt and drink my fill. My human side resists, thrashing and wailing against the utter unfairness of what happened to me and what I would do to any hapless human who crosses my path. I feel my control slipping, and I don’t know how long I have before I become a callous and cold creature that think of humans as food.
I understand the loss of control, which is why I let Jackson stare at me like the monster that I am.
Different emotions play on his face. How he hates what I am. As much as he understands my curse is forced on me, he can’t fully reconcile my current reality with the girl he’s known for years. He wants to end me or at least the vampire that now wants to roam the night in search of her next meal. But to do that would murder the friend he loves.
He shivers and drops his arm. My back slides against the wall until my feet meet the gym floor.
“Sorry,” he says. “I thought I was making a point.”
“You did,”
I say icily. I may understand how he feels, but I don’t have to like it.
“We’ll pick this up another time,” he says. The regret in his voice is palpable.
I can’t take this. Since turning, every human defense has been stripped from me. I cannot blithely rationalize my emotions any more or attribute another motive to a person’s action. Each emotion reaches me in its raw form, unburdened with existential meaning. And I hate it. I want to lash out at him for hurting me, for daring to threaten me.
“Yeah, sure,” I say, instead of “What the fuck was that?”’ as I push past him.
“I’m sorry,” he says helplessly.
I lift my pile of things—a sweater and my backpack—in a rush of motion that looks like a blur, even to me.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” I say as tears nip the corner of my eyes.
“I wouldn’t hurt you,” he admits.
Damn it. He sounds so pathetic as his words reach my ears.
I whirl and advance on Jackson so fiercely that he backs against the wall.
“You don’t get it. It’s not about you hurting me. It’s about the day that will come when I hurt you. And on that day, you must choose, you or me. If you choose you, then I will die. And if you choose me, then you will die, and I will shed the last of my humanity.”
Jackson’s jaw sets. “It won’t come to that,” he says with such conviction I almost believe it deep in my soul.
“You don’t know that,” I say.
“Neither do you. Being a vampire doesn’t make you all-knowing.”
I scoff. “You’re right, it doesn’t.” I kick at the floor, frustrated that yet again, we’re at odds. “I should have known this wouldn’t work.” I head toward the door, stopping with my hand on the door when Jackson calls out.
“Sasha, wait.”
“Give it a rest, Jackson,” I sigh.
“Let’s get together later for, like, dinner or drinks.”
I toss a reproachful glance over my shoulder toward him.
“Yeah, sure. There’s a nice little blood bank in the Glisan Center. I hear they just got a new influx of A positive blood. Um, um, um, delish.” I lick my lips for effect. “The ambience is a little dead, and it only has three stars on Yelp, but we’ll make do.”
Jackson’s face blanches.
Yeah, I thought so.
He doesn’t call after me as I push open the door. Good. I can’t stand one more second with my best friend.
Besides which, who has a guy best friend, anyway? I should hunt up a vampire gal pal. That way we can dish on the pros and cons of Team Niko or Team Arsen, braid our hair, and talk trash about the latest celebrity gossip. I should call Claudette and make the offer. Yeah, right. That's all I need—one more "friend" that wants me dead.
Growing up a wunderkind girl nerd in foster care didn’t do me any favors in the friend department. Throughout my formative years, I couldn’t connect with girls my age who were more interested in pink ponies with long hair than performing experiments with baking soda and vinegar. My one lone birthday party when I was nine was an utter disaster because I wanted to sleep during the sleepover.
Nothing compares to the isolation I felt as child. Except maybe this moment, right now. Or these last few weeks of my life. No, the only warmth I experience now is in Arsen’s presence. Damn his raggedy vampire ass.
And now I don’t even have Jackson as a friend to count on. Or I won’t for long.
Well, maybe I do, but that does nothing to improve my sense of utter aloneness and vulnerability. I have to get very good at any martial art to stand a chance of beating any vamp. And against many of them? I’m undead meat. No, I need something else for protection.
Finding a defense seizes my mind, and I can’t let it go. This is another consequence of my condition. Once I conceive it, I am much more likely to obsess on an idea. This thought scares me because not only has my body changed but my mind as well. I’ve been focused as a human but as a vampire, I am like a heat-seeking missile armed and ready to destroy whatever mission is in front of me.
I instantly calm when I finally enter the silent lab at Niko’s.
Demetri isn’t here for once, and I can enjoy having the lab to myself again. At least for a little while. This is a room filled with answers if you apply consistent effort, and I am nothing but consistent. It’s what made me top of the class and earned me my scholarships.
It’s proving to be a real bitch trying to identify or even classify the virus, and it grates on my nerves. Yes, I know as a researcher I’m supposed to be analytical and patient, but the patience part seems to disintegrate as my vampirism takes greater hold.
I unlock a drawer in my workstation and examine my notes and results. There are about 320,000 viruses that infect mammalian species, so identifying the one causing the problem with the vampires is like finding a needle in the haystack. And you would think that just examining the blood of the infected, or even just mine, would give you answers . . . but you would be wrong.
There is no way to factor out the different things swirling around in blood as causative. It’s not like a virus flashes a neon light and says, “Here I am. Kill me.” Nope. And the different processes I experiment with do not reveal a single clue of the infectious agent. Is it a virus at all?
I go to the farthest corner of the lab where the refrigerator contains my stored blood samples. With a sigh, I take Arsen’s sister’s blood vial out. I only have a little left and I need more. I should drop by and take another sample. The thought of seeing Arsen again gives me more pleasure than it should. I hate Arsen for what he did to me. And each time I think about it, I want to rip his head off his gorgeous shoulders. I’m ashamed how my core heats thinking about the double-dealing asshole.
I’m one sick puppy.
After taking a box of slides from the supply closet, I turn on the electron microscope at my workstation. I snap on a pair of gloves and slide on my safety glasses. Whatever infected Arsen’s sister is in that blood, and I do not want to suffer the same fate as her.
“What are you doing?”
The heavily accented voice of Demetri causes me to start and I nearly drop the slide I am about to wet prep. This guy is supposed to help me, but I swear he is more a hindrance than a help. He makes so many mistakes and does enough things against procedure, that I wonder if he’s a researcher at all. I’d thought he was helpful, and I was right. At admin tasks, not running tests.
“I'm taking another look at the virus in the electron microscope.”
“We’ve established that we found nothing informative with the microscope.”
Yeah, because you are crowding me, asshole.
“It doesn’t hurt to look one more time. I might have missed something.”
“If you did, then you have wasted valuable time that should have been spent finding a cure.”
“Listen,” I say, rising from my stool, “you want to do the research? Go ahead.”
He gives me a cold stare. “My instructions were clear. You are to lead the research.”
“Fine,” I say. “Then wet prep this slide with the blood from this vial.” I sling my backpack over one shoulder. I go to the supply cabinet again and take a syringe and some blood tubes.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“Out,” I say, as if I am a defiant teenager.
“Out where?” he says, narrowing his eyes.
“To where no man has gone before,” I sneer. I really had enough of him. If I stay any longer, I will do something I won’t regret, like beat his head in with my very expensive microscope.
Chapter 11
As usual, it’s a study in annoyance when I attempt to enter Arsen’s compound. There’s always some asshole who tries to keep me out like a bouncer at the hottest club and I’m not on the guest list. It never seems to last for long, though, because Arsen always arrives at the door and pushes aside the offender.
Okay, technically, I am a member of their greatest rivals, but als
o, I was once Arsen’s almost-mate, sort of. Until he fucked that up. We fucked that up. Whatever/
He seems genuinely pleased to see me, even when I return his smile with a frown.
“Sasha, to what do we owe this pleasure?”
“Table the pleasantries. I’m not here for you, I’m here for more samples from.” Barely masked disdain seeps from my words, clueing Arsen with the message that I am not here to be friendly. Even though I want to be, but I won’t show weakness in front of the vampires who helped him deceive me. Even though he looks like sin-on-a-stick in his fitted T-shirt, black pants, and damp, tousled hair. Did he just take a shower?
Nope. Stop, Sasha. Don’t even let your mind go there.
Arsen’s collection of vamps stare at me with shock and hostility. They may not always listen to their master, but they’ll be damned if some recently turned vamp treats him with the disrespect, even if he more than deserves it.
“I’m here to work, not socialize. I need more samples of your sister’s blood.”
Arsen’s smile dissolves and falls into a more neutral expression. It’s one that almost every vampire has mastered. If they were interested in cards, they’d probably take Vegas by storm.
“This way,” he says. The other vamps part before him and my nose crinkles.
“Have you made progress?” he asks.
“No,” I say plainly. I don’t feel like offering hope to Arsen. His sister didn’t help him break my heart, but she is the one person he seems to care about over everyone else.
“Are you sure?”
I stop in my tracks. “Do you think I’m not telling the truth?” I ask pointedly.
“I’m well aware how persuasive Nikolai can be,” replies Arsen. “He would expect your loyalty. And obedience.”
“As if,” I snort.
Arsen chuckles. “Good. I was afraid he won you over.”
“With what? His stunning good looks? Irresistible charm? Scintillating intelligence?” A light awakens in Arsen’s eyes.
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