by E. C. Hibbs
I felt a hand slap the face below me. There was a slurred sound, and then words formed out of it.
“...up! Wake up, Bee! Come on!”
“Frank... I think she’s –”
“No!”
Two fingers were pressed into the neck. I felt them without them touching me. I still spiralled down and away.
I sensed there was no heartbeat to be found.
“I’m so sorry...”
A head was suddenly buried in the chest, and arms held me tightly. I felt the shakes of sobs; their jolts were all around me like the freezing snow. Warm tears were running through my top. My head pounded, but it was a normal, aching pain. Nothing like what I had last felt. And my neck was tender. There was a sharp, clean stinging in my right wrist.
I realised with a jolt that I wasn’t breathing, and – in reflex – gasped a huge lungful of oxygen.
I heard yelps of shock, and the head on my chest jumped away. My eyes snapped open – the outside world stung like needles, and I gulped down the air like it was water. In the corner of my vision, distorted with snowflakes, were the carved wings of a stone angel. A pair of vivid green eyes stared down at me, surrounded by small red dots of blood.
“Bee?” The voice was wary and shaken, but lined with a daring hope. I recognised it, and managed a smile.
“Frank.”
A huge smile suddenly split his face. He pulled me up and hugged me so tightly, I thought he might break my spine – but I wouldn’t have minded even if he had. He was alright. He was alive. He was with me, kneeling in the snow a safe distance from the hole, with my body spread across his lap. I saw it all in my head, and knew it was how it had happened, even though I hadn’t seen or felt or heard a thing.
As I lay there by the side of my turner, Frank burst through the dying flames, wings still outstretched and flapping to fan them away from me. I was limp on the floor, traced with black venom. I watched in my mind as he frantically lifted my arm, wrenched back my sleeve, and sank his teeth into the underside of my wrist. Like that December night in the hospital, when the Lidérc had turned me, it was so sharp, I didn’t feel any pain. But, opposed to the strange numbness that had spread through me that time, there was a suction – under my skin, and all flooding towards his mouth.
I opened my eyes, and the familiar scent of him filled my nose. As we clutched each other, I gently lifted my arm and inspected my wrist over his shoulder. There was a thin razor-like cut down the length of my vein: a cut that looked – for the entire world – like a scratch.
“Oh, Bee,” Frank was muttering into my neck. His voice was still shaking, tears wet on my skin. “Oh, thank god...”
“Bee!”
I glanced up and saw Michael running towards us. Next to him was Emily, their hands clasped.
“Bee, are you alright?” he asked, so quickly that it took me a moment to answer, as I worked to separate the mush of syllables into a decipherable question.
“I’m fine,” I assured, surprising myself by how clear I sounded. My throat wasn’t burning at all. I repeated it, just so I could listen again.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Frank let go enough for me to draw back and gaze at him. I looked him over, and horror welled when I saw his bloody top. I pulled the torn cotton out of the way to examine the damage. “Ó istenem...”
“Don’t worry, it looks worse than it is,” he assured quickly.
“Shut up,” I snapped, knowing he’d just be saying that so he could make a fuss of me.
“No, honestly, it’s not that deep.”
He forced me to look him in the face, and the expression was firm. His voice was steady, with no signs of pain; it shoved any kind of doubts away. When I inspected it again – calmer – he was telling the truth. The four gashes across his chest were long and angry, but as he’d said, not too deep. The bleeding had already stemmed and begun to heal. It probably wouldn’t even need stitches.
Must be a vampire thing.
I didn’t think I was going to be so lucky. Waking up had made the pain in my hand slam home. I tried to flex my fingers. A wave of nausea instantly responded and I rolled over, retching into the snow. Frank leapt away in alarm; then held my hair back from my face. The snow under my palm turned warm with blood.
I turned to Michael and Emily, who were kneeling down beside us. My attentions went to her first, and I grasped her hand with my clean right one. “Are you alright?”
She nodded. The movement was quite unsteady, and she still looked gaunt in her face, but already there was some colour returning to her cheeks. Finally seeing her up close, I realised she was nowhere near as bad as I’d feared. In fact, all that she looked now was understandably shaken.
“He... he didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“No,” she answered. “No, he didn’t.”
“Honestly?”
“Yes; honestly. He didn’t touch me.”
I glanced at her; then rolled up the sleeves of her coat. Relief overcame me when I saw neither of her arms was cut. I smiled and hugged her gently, scared I’d hurt her.
“What happened?” I managed to ask. “How long were you down there?”
“Only one night,” Emily said. “I was on my way home from spending a few days in Pesterzsébet with some friends the other day, and I decided to stop for a coffee. Next thing I knew, I was in there.”
I closed my eyes. A breeze blew her hair into my face.
“He’s the one who took Lucy, isn’t he?” she whispered in my ear.
I paused – at any other time, I would have balked. But I found a smile, and nodded, before cupping her face with my right hand. “She’s alright,” I said softly.
Emily blinked, but then the words seemed to sink in and she looked down. She tried to hold back tears, but then gave in. They flowed freely down her cheeks; she didn’t sob or wail, just let them escape until there were no more.
She laid her hands on my arms. “Thank you so much.”
I was too surmounted with relief to say anything in return. Emily hugged me again – stronger this time – as though she was trying to prove to me that she wasn’t broken. Michael and Frank joined the embrace, and the four of us stayed there as the snow showered down on us.
When we finally moved apart, Michael grasped my shoulder. I glanced at him and immediately spoke. “What the hell were you doing? How did you find us?”
“I never meant to, I just went for a walk,” he replied. “I was doing some family research, before you two came for dinner, and I found out the Takács family mausoleum was in that cemetery. You told me you were going for Em tomorrow and stuff, so I thought I’d go and try to find it, and I saw Frank heading inside so I followed him and...”
He broke off, a haze creeping over his eyes. He threw an uneasy glance at Frank. “How could he still be alive, Bee? Calvin? He was... it was –”
“Forget it,” I said quickly.
“But... Frank, I saw you. You –”
“Look, mate, the less you know, the better,” Frank said. “But at the least, now you know a bit better why we came back here.”
At that, Michael licked his lips and turned to me. His face was wracked with guilt. “I’m so sorry for everything, Bee. I don’t know where to begin.”
“Don’t,” I cut in. “I’m glad that Em’s safe.”
“And so are you now,” Frank whispered. I glanced at him, and then my wrist, which was beginning to flare a very healthy red around the edges.
I’m free.
Frank checked us all over for major injuries, although it was only me and him who were hurt. Emily – thankfully – was fine. He assured me he didn’t need to see a doctor; that he could fix himself up well enough – so Michael quickly gave him his coat to cover up the bloody top.
Michael called the hospital – his voice about three octaves higher than usual – and I realised that whoever was on the other end didn’t understand his English well. So I quickly took the phone and spoke
in hurried Hungarian, noticing for the first time how strained my own voice was. I didn’t mention we were in the cemetery – that would have raised too many questions. Instead, I directed the ambulance to a nearby park close to the university campus, and we quickly moved away, leaving the place of horrors gladly behind us.
Before leaving, I took one final glance down over the lip, into the gaping crypt. The mausoleum towered beside us, the six engraved letters blaring from above the door. I couldn’t say whether I felt more surprised or not when I saw that the Lidérc’s body was gone. Only the two halves of my cane remained; accompanied by churned patches of snow tinted with the occasional red smears.
Two ambulances arrived in the park shortly after we did, and took us to Szent Rókus Kórház. It was the same hospital to which I’d been admitted after Lucy’s death. A detail that didn’t change was that I was carried in on a stretcher, but it was only because I had no cane to help me walk by myself. I was also still rather weak after coming of age had caught up with me – I’d tried to stand when it was time to leave, and almost fainted.
Emily was on a stretcher too. Even though she fared better than me in the fact that she could take a few steps, she was almost like Lucy had been, simply because of dehydration. Frank and Michael had carried me and her out of the cemetery, and the two of them waited restlessly as we were whisked away into the bowels of the hospital. Emily raced right through Accident and Emergency and was attached to three different IV drips. My path was like an uncanny repeat of my last visit. I went directly to an operating theatre, and the surgeons worked to repair the wound in my hand.
Frank had invented the excuse. Upon arriving, I said I’d slipped, dropped my cane into the pond that was nearby – and which had conveniently not frozen over in some parts – then fallen onto a broken glass bottle. To make it as authentic as I could, I’d gently rubbed my hand over some snow to redden it.
As for the whole matter of Emily being with us, we said we’d found her in the park by herself. It was all helped by the fact that it could be a shortcut to her house. To top it off, our footprints were covered very quickly – because not long after I’d come around, the snowfall had intensified into a blizzard-like shower.
The paramedics and doctors seemed to accept the story, and if we remained quiet, they put it down to shock. Things were made easier from the fact that Emily hadn’t been missing for long enough to warrant a full police search. Nevertheless, William and Charlotte soon arrived, fussing over her and planting a million kisses on her face. I saw the love and relief in their eyes for their daughter. When she sat up in her bed, the three of them held each other and sobbed heartily, Michael looking on in relief.
Emily and I were put on the same ward, rather than in side-rooms. I was overjoyed. There was no reason to be afraid of that idea anymore, but it was difficult to shift. It was like hearing a buzzing insect hovering by your ear. Even when you know it wasn’t a wasp and couldn’t sting, you still swatted it away and moved, hoping it wouldn’t follow.
Emily was released four days after we were admitted. She recovered amazingly quickly, and before long, she was walking and eating well. They kept her in for another day just for observation, but then she was discharged. I had to stay for another five, because it took me a little longer to get my strength back.
Frank explained to me that Emily was lucky: she had been exhausted, but the demon hadn’t bitten her or used her in any way. If that had happened, it would have taken much longer for her to get back on her feet. She was clean of any kind of vampiric trace. I, on the other hand, had coming of age to recover from. That was never easy, no matter whether the transformation was completed or humanity was restored.
The day after Emily left, Frank arrived early to see me at visiting time. My pulse shot up at the sight of him, it throbbed painfully in my hand. There was a dull ache in the underside of my arm, too, where an IV was still inserted and slowly draining a painkiller into me. When I’d first arrived, the drips had consisted of fluids, nutrients, and at one point, morphine. All had gone soon enough, the painkiller gradually lightened as I recovered – but I could still feel where their needles had lain in my skin.
He told me that she and Michael were coming later on. I nodded and asked if she was alright.
“She’s fine,” he said. “Michael’s being brilliant with her.”
I smiled. “Does she... well, know about everything? I mean, about what he was, and stuff?”
“I think she guessed,” Frank admitted. “I think she’s filled Michael in as well, but he hasn’t run away from her, so I’m relieved in that respect. I’m not going to tell him about our stuff though. Not yet, anyway. I’ll wait until you’re out of here and it’s a bit more private.”
I frowned. “Changed your mind?”
Frank shrugged. “Well, if I were him, I’d find it hard to just forget about something like a thirteen-foot wingspan.” His eyes gleamed, and I had to chuckle. He joined in, gently stroking my cheek before lowering his voice. “And I’m pretty certain Emily knows about Lucy, too.”
I swallowed and looked down, the grin instantly wiped away. “How’s she taking it?”
“As best she can, really.”
He laid his hand over my right one. It was heavily bandaged and I could barely wiggle my fingers for it, so the restricted movement would help it to heal quicker. “I think telling her that she’s alright helped a lot,” he said in an undertone. “I am so proud of you.”
I pressed my lips together; then hugged him. Over his shoulder, I caught a glimpse of the scratch on my wrist. It had calmed really quickly, and now looked similar to a clean swipe from something like a cat’s claw. It was already beginning to lighten into a faint, but permanent scar.
“So... I’m human again.” I said it more like a question, unable to really believe it. After four years of getting used to being something else, it was quite a shock to be sitting there, after something that should have definitely killed me.
His eyes shone with that hidden, beaming smile. “Are you upset?”
I shrugged, but the corner of my mouth curled into a small grin. “A little bit, I suppose,” I said. “And the funny thing is that there’s no logic in it, really. It’s not like I was ever going to be a harmless anyway. But I’m not going to miss blood, I can tell you that right now.”
“Yeah, I believe you!” Frank laughed.
“But,” I carried on, the smile dropping, “I really will miss flying. I wanted my wings so much. But that’s what I mean: I would never have gotten them anyway.”
Frank paused for a second; then he gave me a really strange look. I couldn’t think of any other way to describe it except that it was sly.
I frowned. “What?”
He reached up and gently stroked my cheek again, eyes sparkling. I realised what he was going to say, and beat him to it. “You’re thinking of turning me again, aren’t you? Yourself?”
He sighed, raising his eyebrows. “Do I have your permission?”
I ran my tongue across my lips and touched the scar on my neck. It still felt tender, but nowhere near as painful as it had been a few days before. I remembered lying in this very hospital, watching the venom spread through me – and contemplated letting it happen all over again.
Flying. It was so wonderful: the feeling of the wind in your hair, and that weightlessness that filled your body. I imagined those two little lumps on my shoulders, opening up wings that would bear me to the air.
What do you say, Bee? This turner would never leave you. You would survive.
“Nem,” I said. Part of me was shocked to hear it, but I was confident as I spoke. As though to doubly confirm it to myself; I shook my head, my voice barely above a whisper. “No. You don’t.”
Frank didn’t react for a second, but then gave a single nod. “I understand,” he replied. He looked a little disappointed, but saw why I was refusing him. Nevertheless, I held his face in my hands. I wasn’t finished.
“You don’t yet,” I
said. “Everything – all the pain and stuff – it’s still too near. I know it’ll be different with you, but I’m just not ready to go through it all again. But maybe in a few years. I might – probably will – change my mind. I’d hate to never fly again.”
The smile returned. He moved closer, and brushed a strand of hair from the corner of my mouth. “Then we’ll leave it for now,” he promised. “I won’t do anything until you’re ready.”
I grinned. “So you’re not so desperate that you’d make me a demon?” I joked, unable to help myself. In response, he pulled me into a hug. It was so tight, I thought it was good that my back wasn’t hurt that time; otherwise he might have broken a stitch or two.
“I would never do that to you.”
I nodded as best I could into his shoulder. I knew he would never hurt me. I already trusted him with my life; my heart and soul belonged to him. If there was anything more precious that you could pledge to somebody, then I would have bared it to him before waiting another second.
“I love you so much, Bee,” he murmured.
My eyes prickled with tears, and I quickly swallowed them back. A small squeak of joy escaped before I shaped it into words. “I love you too. And thank you so much for everything.”
“There’s no need to thank me.”
“Shut up.”
I felt his cheek tense as he smiled. “Don’t you mean ‘becsuk megjelöl’?”
I frowned, pulling away slightly. A bemused laugh snapped out of my mouth. “You remembered that?”
Frank smirked. “Well, I figured I could use it against you sometime in the next forty or fifty years.”
I couldn’t hold back the smile any longer. I moved in again, closing my eyes and placing my lips against his. He kissed me back, and although all my thoughts were for him, I let myself go. The freedom was amazing. There was no need to hold up an iron wall. There was nothing between us.
This is how a kiss should be. You’ve done it, Bee. This, right here, is your first kiss.
In that moment, I could imagine a separate part of myself looking down on her, as she sat in the hospital, holding her lover softly – and smiling, with a strange mixture of personal fondness and almost sisterly pride. That other self, watching on the outside as she transformed into me: Bee. The quiet, geeky victim now vanished, and laid to rest alongside her best friend – by who she had finally become. Not a vampire, but a human – and very much alive.