Blood Type

by Melissa Luznicky Garrett

  “I feel him here,” Ian whispered.

  I put the car in park but none of us made an immediate move to get out. “It’ll be okay,” I said, though I didn’t think any of us truly believed it. Ian looked at me but didn’t say a word.

  Thomas finally pushed open his door and stepped out into the rain. “Let’s go.”

  I squeezed Ian’s hand. “You’re doing the right thing. No matter what happens. You do know that, right?” He nodded, but didn’t speak.

  We followed Thomas into the main foyer where we startled June emerging from one of the other rooms. Her hand flew to her chest. “Thomas, what are you doing home so early?”

  Thomas leaned in and kissed her cheek. Then he straightened and whispered in a somber voice, “Please tell my father we’ve brought Mr. McAvoy.”

  June’s eyes flicked briefly to Ian. Then she raised a hand to Thomas’s face and let her palm rest against his cheek. “Certainly.”

  “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?” Ian said as we watched June’s retreating form. He said it with such tenderness my heart ached for him.

  “Yes,” Thomas said. “I have been for the past fifty years.”

  “But she’s—”

  “The choice was offered,” Thomas said, cutting me off mid-sentence. “She made her decision. But it does not matter. She will always be sixteen in my eyes. She will always be beautiful.”

  June returned a moment later and curled her fingers, motioning for us to follow. Thomas fell in line beside her and placed a hand on the small of her back. I looked sideways at Ian, wondering what was going on in his head, but his expression revealed nothing.

  “Miss Ehlert,” said Conrad Abernathy, as we arrived in the reception area of his private office. “So nice to see you again.” To his son he said, “You should be in school. You know the importance of keeping up appearances.”

  “Take me to John,” Ian demanded.

  Mr. Abernathy clasped his hands in front of him and rocked forward slightly on the balls of his feet. The side of his mouth curved into a grin. “Now, now. Let’s not be hasty, Mr. McAvoy.”

  “If you’ve hurt John at all I’ll—”

  I put a hand on Ian’s arm in an attempt to calm him. “Mr. Abernathy,” I said. “You are friends with my parents, right?”

  “I am,” he agreed. “I hope they consider me a good friend, as well.”

  “Then please consider how they might feel, the pain they would be in, if I died.”

  I hadn’t intended to be funny, but Mr. Abernathy threw back his head and laughed. Ian tensed beside me and Thomas rolled his eyes, saying, “Father, please.”

  When Mr. Abernathy finally got a hold of himself, he said, “My dear, I do not intend to let you die. At least not on my watch. You have delivered Mr. McAvoy to me. As such, I will keep my end of the bargain. Josiah will see to you shortly.”

  Ian’s eyes widened. “Ye mean to have that Watcher,” he said, as though it were a bad word, “turn the lass? I’ll not have it!”

  “Father,” Thomas said more practically. “You cannot let Josiah turn her.”

  Mr. Abernathy’s trim brows pushed together. “Is that so? And why can’t I?”

  Thomas extended his hands, his mouth working in silent disbelief. “He cares nothing for her!”

  Mr. Abernathy fixed his son with a firm glare. “I’ve made my decision, Thomas. It will be Josiah or no one at all.”

  “At least let me do it!” Thomas pleaded.

  Ian’s eyes cut to Thomas, but he didn’t object. And neither did I. If it came down to either Josiah or Thomas, Thomas got top billing.

  Mr. Abernathy turned away. “Do not argue, Thomas. The decision has been made.”

  “But I would—”

  “No!” Mr. Abernathy pounded his fist against the table. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “No, Thomas,” he said more calmly. He turned back and smiled at his son. “Besides, what would your dear June say?”

  “She would understand.”

  “Then you don’t know her, or any woman, very well at all.”

  The line in Thomas’s brow deepened, as he was clearly at a loss for words.

  “It’s okay,” I said to Thomas before turning to his father. “Please. Just tell us where John is.”

  “He’s right this way, Miss Ehlert. Exactly where you left him.”

  Not wasting any time, I rushed past Mr. Abernathy and barreled through the double doors into his office. I made a general sound of disgust at the sight of Josiah standing guard, but my heart leaped in my throat at John lying motionless on the couch. I immediately went to him and knelt by his head.

  “Get him a bag,” Mr. Abernathy instructed Josiah. “And be quick about it.”

  Ian knelt beside me and took John’s hand. “John. It’s me, brother.” John’s eyes flickered open but closed just as quickly. “Someone get him some blood, dammit!”

  If I didn’t know it would kill him, I’d have given him my own without question. As it was, Ian snatched the bag of blood from Josiah’s hands as soon as he came back. “You stay away from him.” Josiah just snorted.

  Ian ripped the corner of the bag with his teeth and held it steady at John’s lips. “Come on, brother. Drink up.”

  The tip of John’s tongue flicked out and found a droplet of blood. Like a fledgling bird, his mouth opened a little wider, and Ian took the opportunity to pour some in.

  “Not too fast,” Thomas cautioned from behind.

  At last, color began to flood John’s cheeks. He opened his eyes—really opened them—and for the first time realized that we were there. “Ian,” his voice rasped. “Oh, God. Ian, I’m sorry.”

  “Ye have nothing to be sorry for. It’s me who should be saying sorry. And I am, John. I am that sorry.”

  My throat tightened and eyes burned with unshed tears. I opened my mouth to speak, but all that came out was a strangled cry. John reached for me, and I buried my head in his chest.

  “Don’t you be crying,” Ian said beside me. “You’re getting exactly what ye wanted.”

  I closed my eyes even tighter, shame welling inside me at the harsh tone of Ian’s words.

  “I don’t think this is exactly what she wanted,” Thomas said.

  Josiah cleared his throat from the corner of the room. “This is all a very touching display of affection, but there are deals to uphold and other business to attend to.”

  “I’m afraid Mr. Butler is right,” Mr. Abernathy said. “Shall we proceed then?”

  Without warning, Josiah grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and pulled me away from John. “Wait!” I cried, flailing my arms and legs in a futile attempt to gain my balance. “Wait a minute! I’m not—”

  The suppleness of Josiah’s lips against my neck was a stark contrast to the razor-sharp teeth that pierced my flesh. I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing but a sigh escaped my lips, like the air from a punctured tire. My arms and legs went completely limp as a fresh dose of venom paralyzed my body.

  “Josiah, I did not mean here, right this very moment,” I heard Conrad Abernathy say, but not with any sort of reproof. “The girl is our guest. We had a room prepared. At least try not to make a mess of things, would you? And for God’s sake, don’t kill her!”

  My vision faded as I drifted closer to death, only vaguely aware of John’s and Thomas’s weak protests in the background. Josiah’s teeth ripped free a moment later, and then I heard a sickening crunch of skin and felt something warm being pressed to my mouth. “Swallow,” said Josiah.

  I couldn’t move at all; drained almost completely of blood, and paralyzed, I couldn’t open my mouth. But somewhere in the far corners of my mind, I knew I would die if I didn’t do as Josiah said. As his blood flowed hot into my mouth directly from the open wound on his wrist, I slowly began to regain feeling in the center of my chest. The feeling spread outward to my toes and fingers, and yet everything remained hazy around the edges, as though I couldn’t quite wake from a deep sleep. The
voices around me sounded flat and far away.

  “Well then,” Mr. Abernathy said with a clap of his hands. “I’m glad that’s taken care of. See how easy it was? Thomas, you can escort Miss Ehlert and Mr. Kelly back to his house where I’m sure they’ll be a lot more comfortable recuperating.”

  “What about Ian?” Thomas said.

  “What about him?”

  “What’s going to happen to him?”

  “I don’t see how that’s any of your concern now.”

  “It might not be Thomas’s concern, but it’s mine,” said John. “He’s my Maker.”

  “That may be so, but—”

  “I can’t just leave him here!”

  I forced my eyes open to see Conrad Abernathy get in John’s face. “You can and you will.”

  “I won’t!”

  Mr. Abernathy let out an irritated sigh but backed down. “Mr. Kelly—John—I like you. I have always liked you, which is why I’m about to say this: Would it ease your mind if I promise Mr. McAvoy will live to see another day, another hundred years if he so wishes?”

  My heart stuttered in my chest, trying to find its proper rhythm, but it was Ian who took the words out of my mouth. “What do you mean?”

  “Mr. McAvoy, I am not in the habit of disposing of my kind willy-nilly, especially those who have something I can use.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You will in time. But first,” Mr. Abernathy said, turning to John and me, “good day to you both. This doesn’t concern you at the present, but I’m sure we’ll see each other again. Thomas?”

  Ian gripped John in a hug. “I’ll be fine, aye? Tend to the lass now. She needs you more than I do.”

  John and I sat together on his couch, me with my head resting on his shoulder and eyes closed, feeling completely drunk and disoriented. I heard Thomas’s footsteps approaching and then something squishy being pushed into my hand. I opened my eyes.

  “You’re going to need a few of those,” he said to me. He handed one to John, too. “You’re lucky you have bagged blood these days. When I was newly turned I had to go out and . . . never mind,” he said, when he saw me sticking out my tongue in disgust.

  I felt ravenous with hunger but sipped the warmed-up blood as Thomas urged, so as not to make myself sick. The brain-fog that persisted during the drive over began to clear until I felt almost normal again.

  Except that I wasn’t. I was changed, altered from the inside out. Would my parents suspect anything? Would Olivia, my best friend who could tell when I was lying before the words even came out of my mouth?

  “What do you think is going on over there?” I whispered, my thoughts returning to Ian.

  John’s voice rumbled in my ear. “I have no idea. What do you think?” he said to Thomas.

  Thomas sat in the chair across from us and leaned forward, dangling his hands between his knees. At that moment he looked ancient, and for the very first time I wondered exactly how old he was. “My father said he has no intention of killing Ian.”

  “That doesn’t mean he won’t harm him,” John said. “And what was that part about Ian being valuable? Your father mentioned that none of this concerned Blake and me at present. Does that mean it will in the future?”

  Thomas shrugged. “I honestly don’t know.”

  I rubbed my temples with my fingers. “Can we talk about something a little more pressing at the moment, such as what I’m going to tell my parents?”

  Thomas waved his hand in dismissal. “Don’t worry about it. Drink a few more of those and you’ll be fine before the end of the afternoon. Believe it or not, making a vampire is disgustingly easy. I don’t know why there aren’t more of us around. You can go home and pretend it was just another normal day at school.”

  “I just hope my blood was so tainted with venom it knocks Josiah out for a while.” I curled my lip. “Serves him right.”

  Thomas’s eyebrows pushed together. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the fact that he deserves it.”

  Thomas shook his head. “No, why did you say that you hope your blood knocks out Josiah?”

  “Ian’s venom that was in my blood?” I said with a “duh” expression on my face. “Your father said that only very strong and old vampire can withstand the effects of the venom.”

  “And?”

  “He told me that if I had changed Blake myself,” John said, “I would have died before the night was through.”

  Thomas laughed, but then his expression grew troubled. “I don’t understand why my father would tell you something like that.”

  I sat up. “You mean it’s not true?”

  “Of course not. Yes, vampire venom that’s allowed to fester in a human’s blood is disgusting and can make you wish you were dead, but it doesn’t actually kill you. The only way a vampire can die is from blood deprivation or exsanguination.”

  “Exsanguination from what?”

  “Bleeding out. Like from some sort of mortal wound.” He drew an imaginary knife across his neck. “Vampires have the capacity to heal at a much quicker rate than humans, so it takes a rather nasty injury to kill one of us.”

  “So John was never in any danger of dying by turning me?”

  “None at all.”

  “So it could have been John all along,” I said, feeling a rage brew under my skin. “What purpose would your father have for lying, for making Josiah turn me?”

  Thomas opened his mouth to say something just as John stood up suddenly. “I don’t like this,” he said. “Something about this isn’t right.”

  At that moment my phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket and looked at the number. “Crap. It’s my mom.”

  “Where are you?” she demanded when I answered.

  “What do you mean, where am I? I’m at school.”

  “Blake Edwards Ehlert. Don’t you lie to me. I went home for lunch and found your iron pills sitting on the kitchen counter. When I went to drop them off to you at school, I was informed by the principal that you were involved in some sort of altercation with Gabe and Thomas Abernathy, of all people. Ms. Rogers in the front office says she saw you and Thomas take off together. Care to tell me what is going on?”

  “Not really.”

  “Where are you at right now?”

  “You mean at this very moment?”

  “You know I don’t make a habit of cursing, but dammit, Blake. You’d better start being honest with me. Where are you?”

  “At John’s house.”

  Her labored breathing came over the phone even louder and faster. I could picture her clenched teeth and bulging eyes. Maybe she’d even have steam coming out of her ears. “I thought you were with Thomas.”

  “I am. We’re both at John’s.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Why?”

  “Blake.”

  “Because, um, he was sick. John, I mean.”

  “Is that so?” I could tell she didn’t believe me. “There seems to be a lot of that going around lately.”

  “Well the good news is I’m feeling much better. Really, Mom. I’m beginning to think I don’t even need those iron pills anymore.”

  “Well . . . that’s good news. I’m glad to hear it.” Her voice softened some at the news. She sighed. “I’ll give you one more hour and then that’s it. I want you home. You’ve got the rest of your life to plan for, Blake. And as cliché as it sounds, the rest of your life starts today. You can’t blow it off because you want to hang out with some boy, even one as nice as John. Do you understand what I’m saying, Blake?”

  “I understand.”

  “Good. I’ll see you in time for dinner.”

  I hung up and faced John and Thomas, who were both watching me with varying degrees of curiosity. “Right now I have a bigger problem to worry about than what Mr. Abernathy is up to.”

  “What’s that?” John said.

  “My mom expects me home. For dinner.”

  Thomas
smiled and tossed two more bags in my direction, which I fumbled and caught against my chest. “Then you’d better drink a few more of those before you go.”

  Stay tuned . . .

  About the Author

  Melissa Luznicky Garrett is an author of adult and young adult novels. She lives in upstate New York with her husband, three children, and numerous animals. Melissa is currently hard at work on her next project. Visit Melissa’s blog at www.MLGarrett.blogspot.com or connect with her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/MLGarrettwrites.

  Other novels by Melissa Luznicky Garrett include:

  Precipice

  Turning Point

  The Spirit Keeper

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Acknowledgements

  Blood Type

  About the Author

  Other books by the author