Pick Your Poison

by Jeanette Lynn

  Making his way over, bending down and pressing his hand back to my neck, Divit scooped me up. “Now this, I was expecting. The laughter was weird and unexpected. I didn’t know what to do with it.”

  Wrapping his arms around me tight, he nuzzled my temple as I tried to blow his eardrums out, snot and other various disgusting things people don’t honestly like to speak of when they think about real crying—but, damn it, it’s the truth—going down.

  “This...” he murmured into my ear, swapping out the cloth at my neck for another. “This is kind of fucking loud, woman, but I think I can manage.”

  Arranging my ruined robe over me, he tried to rub warmth into my chilled skin. Muttering something over and over against my temple, he started slowly rocking me—it took me a while to figure it out.

  As my sobs slowly subsided, the words, “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry,” hit my ears. Reality really hit then and I knew this was all way worse than my dazed mind could’ve comprehended earlier.

  I am so screwed.

  Atonement

  By the time my vampire lover had changed, rummaging a pair of cut off sweatpants and one of my favorite metal band shirts, bandaged my neck as best as he could, bundled me up in a sheet, and carted my ass out to his fancy assed car, we were flying down the highway, headed to Callie’s house. Or so he told me.

  “For the millionth time, I am not going to bury you in the desert.” All that exasperation should not fit into one single body. Clearly, he held enough for a football team.

  “You sure?”

  “Yes.” His jaw was doing that ticking thing again, even as he stroked my hair, one hand on the steering wheel.

  “Promise?”

  “Norma Gene...” That exasperated sigh, so unnecessary, so cute, made me smile.

  If I’m going to die anyway, I’m going to go out with a bang. My teasing smile fell as my heart sank a little more.

  “I, uhm, maybe could have loved you, I think. You know, death threats and all that aside.” The words fell from my lips as a scowl took over my face. Certain parts of my body, face included, had pretty much already gone numb—a bad case of the shakes taking over my body. Shock and trauma, I knew—I’ve lost a lot of blood.

  Divit’s throat worked for a moment, his grip tightening on the steering wheel until it made a funny noise. “Don’t say shit like that.”

  Rolling my eyes, I huffed. “I’ll say whatever shit I want, glitter boy. Who the hell are you, vampire man, to tell me what I can and can’t do?”

  “If you live through this and that little shit Stefan is right?” Divit glanced down at me, my head resting on his shoulder. “More than I think you’d care to know.”

  “Pssssh. Stefan shmeffan. He’s an idiot. Nobody listens to him.”

  Turning up Callie’s long drive, Divit pulled in, parking to stare out the windshield. “I’m not saying I disagree with you, love, but in some things I have to give the fool credit.”

  “Yeah, like what? Necromancy?” Snorting, I watched as Divit unbuckled and paused for the longest time, suddenly quiet.

  Blinking, lost in thought, his gaze drifted to the woods bordering Callie’s house. I cleared my throat at that, bringing him back from wherever his mind had wandered off to.

  Divit made a noise in his throat and grunted. “Right, then. Let’s go.” Glancing over at me, the vampire gave himself a little shake to pull himself out of it.

  Movements quick and jerky, he opened his door and hopped out, getting out to come around the passenger side. He didn’t say a word after that strange, whatever that was, opening my door to bend down and pick me up.

  He was so gentle it startled me, as if I was made of glass, cradling me against his chest to tuck my head under his chin. Kicking his fancy car’s door shut with his foot, he turned to make his way towards the wide front porch.

  “Divit?”

  His dark brown gaze stared fixedly at Callie’s front door. “Stefan is a jackass. A dipshit of the finest order.” Pausing, as if trying to figure out how to put his thoughts to words, the vamp glanced around searchingly.

  “Just say it, big boy, I think I can take it.” Wasn’t like I was going to freak out and go anywhere. Erm, this time.

  “I didn’t get this way because I was turned.” He spoke truthfully, a hard glint in his eyes as he finally looked at me. “I got this way because I was dying and I was scared. A wasting disease, they’d said. Probably cancer—I’m almost certain that’s what it was now. I was young, terrified, worried for my soul, or lack thereof, and had no inclination to rot for all eternity in Hell for time spent and better off forgotten with a scheming, soul sucking demon bitch. In a moment of fear and weakness, on my death bed and not quite ready to say good-bye, I’d asked a friend for help.”

  “You mean, you’re a made vampire?”

  “All vampires are made.” Divit again paused for the longest time, trying to explain it right. “I’m just...”

  “A witch’s science experiment?”

  “A warlock’s.” He nodded, the bob of his head sending a few strands of hair tumbling over his forehead.

  Reaching out, I brushed them back, ignoring how much effort I had to put into the task.

  “He was brilliant, though eccentric, but prone to mood swings and sudden fits. He had a talent for learning the arts necessary to try and master necromancy, something few have ever managed to any degree.”

  Which made the limited number of zombie breakouts sound sensible.

  “His talent for casting exceeded most others, but he was oft reticent to use it. I was his first successful attempt to bring someone back, without too many ill effects. As well as his last.”

  As in not a zombie, which is what most witch’s trying their hand at this bring the dead back shit ended up with—unless they were super warlocks, or witches, I assumed—terrified to ask for details. I’d never heard of a successful rising, leaving the, erm, person human and whole, but I really didn’t want to know.

  “But you had lots of ill effects. You’re a vampire. I mean, you’re not a zombie, but you’re a vampire. You weren’t human again, which is what I’m assuming you’d wanted, minus whatever was wrong with you? That’s still not normal.” God, there was that word again. I was really growing sick of it. Even as I said it, I wondered, What the fuck is normal, anyway?

  Divit nodded. “Yes, though most wouldn’t see it that way.”

  Riigghhtt. Because being an undead, walking leech is so totally awesome? “So... then you didn’t want to be a vampire? And lemme guess, the warlock was Stefan?” I was starting to get confused, or maybe not.

  “Stefan was the warlock, yes. And, no, it didn’t turn out how I’d planned, certainly, but I was just fine with my new lot in life.” Divit made as if to stop there, but that can’t be the end of it.

  “What’s the big deal, then? Why are you and Stefan frenemies now? He helped you, didn’t he? I get you and Mary, she’s a bitch anyway, but you and Stefan... You should be, like, grateful or something, or what am I missing?”

  “Ah, yes, grateful, so grateful.” His voice went dry, completely devoid of all emotion. “Until one night he decided I was not only an abomination of his own creation, but his problem to exterminate. Trying to cut one’s best friend’s head off with a rapier does not foster friendly feelings, sweetheart.”

  And with that lovely yet violent tidbit, my mouth gaping open wide, I was swept in through Callie’s front door.

  ˜˙˜˙˜˙˜

  “You have to fix her.” Callie had been saying those same five words over and over for the past half hour.

  I was still trying to wrap my head around a rapier beheading. Was that even possible? A rapier? Really? Maybe a throat slit or something, slice ya up, I don’t know... A lunge, a jab, like a thrust kinda deal, perhaps? Maybe stab a guy... but a beheading? Could a rapier lop off a head? I wasn’t much for swords and shit, so that was a bit beyond me, but I had my doubts.

  The fact that Stefan had thought to
kill Divit and tried in the first place was enough to enrage the vamp. Can’t imagine I’d be all that happy about it if I was in his position, either.

  “I’ve told you, there’s nothing I can do. He gave her his blood, Cal, and it did what it’s doing. I’ve never heard of that, but I’ve never dealt with anything like this. Divit isn’t... normal. What’s done is done.” Stefan blew out a long breath, thin cheeks puffing. “He has to finish it.”

  Callie gripped his arm. “No, but... but- if she dies you’ll bring her back. You can bring her back, Stefan.”

  “No buts.” Shaking her off, the man seethed, glaring at my still semi-ex-childhood friend, though that sad face and the puffy eyes, plus all the heartfelt apology bullcrap she kept babbling nonstop, were slowly starting to wear me down.

  “With or without my interference, the damage is already done. She’ll be back, rest assured, and you can thank my best mate for that. Let him fix his own mistakes.” Offering me a pitying look, Stefan’s lip curled as he turned to sneer at Divit.

  “You haven’t been my friend for years. Don’t pretend it so, Stefanos.” Divit’s voice deepened as his jaw ticked. “I’ve never killed anyone.” The vampire added at Stefan’s dark, condemning look, “For food.”

  A silence filled the room and when Stefan finally made to speak, Divit cut him off. Apparently he wasn’t quite finished with the man yet.

  “Think what you will about me, but your assumptions are farfetched, many, and wrong. Your hatred is your own, and yours by choice.”

  “And Norma Gene? Was she intentional or self-defense?” Stefan spat the words angrily.

  “Neither,” I muttered, chucking a small throw pillow limply as I unsuccessfully aimed for the angry warlock’s blonde, fat head.

  Flopping at the edge of the bed, the small pillow projectile fell to the floor with a sadly lacking, downy soft plop.

  Everyone turned to stare at me, startled by my defense of the man who put me in this position in the first place.

  Words slightly slurred, I managed to speak coherently, though barely. “He wouldn’t saddle himself with someone like me if I was the last person on earth. Glitter-pants hates me, by his own admission.” Clearing my throat a few times, I went on. “He was, uhm... we were, just trying to fix Callie’s potion problem and it went too far. We got carried away, some good shit went down, some bad too, and he tried to fix it. I don’t think he thought what happened would happen, but now we’re all up creeks shitting. At least he’s trying to make it right.”

  I had to pause to catch my breath as a wave of dizziness hit me, closing my eyes and concentrating on the air passing between my parted lips until I finally felt safe to speak again.

  “He could have just left me for dead. It’s bat crap crazy around this hole, uh, shit lately.” My brows furrowed and my face scrunched up. Confusion dotting my features, I shook my head.

  “I don’t hate you, and I think you mean shit creek, and shit hole, sweetheart.” There was definitely a smile in the vampire’s voice.

  Grunting, I rolled my eyes, letting out a soft snort. “Whatever you say, baby. Shits, creeks, holes, what the hell do I care at this point?”

  A horrified gasp left Callie, all eyes turning to her as her face paled and she cupped a hand over her mouth. “You mean... this is all my fault?”

  “I take my part in it, since I agreed and I could have said no—peer pressure at its finest—but kinda, sorta, yeah.” My admission, though maybe a bit too blunt, possibly a tad overly harsh, had the witch near hysterics.

  “I didn’t- I don’t- You- We- Oh, Genie.... I didn’t...” Lips trembling, Callie took a stumbling step back.

  “Ah... Cals,” I muttered, almost apologetically.

  When I motioned her back Callie shook her head and took another step back, her fingers shaking as she brought them to her lips, as if to hold back a sob. Green eyes glossy, she swallowed hard, the sound loud in the quiet room.

  Eyes darting around, Cals was keenly aware of the three sets of eyes fixed on her, the sheen of wetness rimming her eyes filling until it was about to brim over.

  “Excuse me, I-I-I- Genie...” Callie’s eyes fixed on me and never left. “Genie, I am so sorry. I never meant- I-I never meant for any of this to happen. P-p-please, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I never- My heart was in the right place, you have to understand. Please understand.”

  A lone tear slowly slid down Callie’s cheek but she didn’t wipe it away. Standing there, holding out for me to say something, trembling from head to toe, she waited.

  My chest tightened until it felt like it was breaking and I felt my own hands trembling anew. Watching her waiting for me, I thought of everything that crazy bitch and I have been through together—our first day meeting, the ups and downs—how many times I’ve wanted to beat her senseless—the petty fights and shrieking matches—pissing matches over men—the things I’ve let her drag me into—all the reasons as of late I’ve thought of cutting her off and moving on with my life. I said the only thing I could think of, the first thing that came to my mind when I thought of truly being without that nasty witch for just one moment of my miserable life. “I love you, Cals.”

  A small sob left Callie’s throat and she let the tears fall, but they weren’t of relief. A great grief fell over the witch, a dark aura shrouding her in sadness.

  “I-I love you too, Genie. I-I’m so sorry...” Glancing at Divit, who stood watching her, his expression unreadable, her gaze met his in a sort of staring match before darting away. Swiping her cheeks, she grimaced.

  Reaching out to grip my ankle through the bed sheet draped over me, she gave it a squeeze.

  Her hand was warm and comforting, a solid, heavy weight when I felt weightless and lost in the world. Callie, whether I wanted to realize it or not, was my anchor.

  Callie, who’d dragged my introverted butt through endless crap adventures throughout our childhood and early adolescence—until I’d finally learned to tell her no—that only ended us in a heap of trouble anyway. Callie, who’d accidently turned me, along with herself, into a toad for sixteen hours on prom night, instead of the fancy get-ups she’d thought to conjure with that stupid spell from her idiot cousin. Callie, who’s made my life weirdly interesting all these years, in a scary, someone-please-help-me-out-of-this-shnit! sort of way. Callie, with her demands I come to her stupid get-togethers and make nice with her crazy friends, or else, and her bubbly attitude and insistence I participate in her crazy life—whether my ass really wants to or not—or realizes that’s what she’s actually doing: keeping me in her life... That tricky witch has always been there for me—she’s kept me grounded in a way I couldn’t.

  When I’d given in to the pull of the inevitable, accepting the idea this was all life had to offer, and vice versa, she hadn’t protested, never said a word. Callie’d just held on tight.

  Forced to see there was more to life than what I’d let myself have, worlds and realms, magicks and creatures more, I’d been forced to face the reality of my existence, the mere speck I’d deemed acceptable when I could surely reach for more.

  Maybe my bitterness hadn’t all been directed at what I could never attain really, envying what others had and I didn’t, but what there is out there for me, the achievable I’m truly too scared to get off my lazy ass and try for. No use trying to deny it now.

  Faced with the truth of it all, a heavy weight lifting while another one settled, resting heavily in the middle of my chest, it was rather sobering.

  “Callie?”

  Callie’s eyes slowly drifted up to meet mine.

  “Thank you,” I mumbled without explaining, a wealth of emotion welling in my tired eyes. “Thank you, Cals. I mean that. Thank you.” Reaching out to her, fingers outstretched as my eyelids lowered heavily with exhaustion, I motioned that she should come closer.

  “Genie... You don’t think... You can’t!” Shock written clear across her features, eyes wide, she jerked back as if I’d just
slapped her. Hiccupping into her hands, tears blinding her eyes, she went to rush from the room.

  Too late, she’d misunderstand and I hadn’t explained at all. Gah. I suck! I suck at this shit! All of it!

  “Damn- Shit! Callie! Callie... Callie, I didn’t mean! I didn’t mean to make you-” Trying to keep up with her hasty mumblings, I called after her, but she’d already hurried off and my voice was growing weak.

  “She didn’t do it on purpose, and she feels horrible. These things do happen.”

  Cursing under his breath, the necromancer went to follow. With one last look at us, Stefan stomped from the room.

  Divit’s gaze, still a warm, earthy brown, bore into the back of Stefan as the vampire turned, bending his tall frame to lean out the door. “Funny thing, that. Yes, they do. I imagine she wishes she could do them differently,” he paused, “but she can’t. We all are given our lot in life, some twists and turns more surprising than others, but we’re all, each of us, just trying to make the best of it.”

  Stefan started, his back still clearly visible from my vantage point, jerking as if Divit had hit him with a cattle prod in the ass. The rail thin warlock tensed but made as if to continue after Callie. He stopped instead, surprising me, replying stiffly, “Yes, I suppose... I suppose maybe you’re right.”

  Turning back, Divit rested against the door frame, arms folded stiffly, his thick hair wild about his head from running his fingers through it one too many times. A dark shadow cast over his face as his gaze slid towards me, a trick of the light as his chin dipped and his jaw hardened.

  Clothes askew, more bedraggled looking than I’d ever seen the usually immaculately dressed blood sucker, a short hank of tangled black hair slid forward, dangling over his furrowed brow. It emphasized his dark and disheveled, yet brooding, look.

  Our eyes met, brown and hazel meshing as our lips simultaneously parted and closed, as if both of us wished to speak but couldn’t quite find the words. For the longest time we stayed like that.