by Heidi Lowe
“As good as,” she said somberly. “Lissa, it isn't like human to human blood transfusion. Vampire blood is cursed, and it doesn't go away. There's a reason why donation is outlawed. The patient's whole make up, whole body, changes. Sensitivity to daylight – sometimes as serious as being unable to leave the house during the day. The feeling of being suffocated while awake during the day. Chronic tiredness during the day, and unable to function or remember what is happening around them. Food, all food, loses its flavor. The patient is alive, but barely. Yet not quite dead, and not quite turned. They remain in that state of limbo, and they never recover from it.”
I could only stare at her, my mouth agape, unable to speak. Sure everyone knew giving or receiving donations of vampire blood was illegal, but how many knew the real side effects? I certainly hadn't. That state of limbo Jean described, it sounded even worse than being turned.
“And then there are the nightmares...” She looked off into space now, troubled. “They'll never dream again; like us, they will only have nightmares. It comes with the blood. But it's worse for them, because they get other people's nightmares. People go mad from that sort of thing.”
She held me tighter when she spoke, her face tense, spooked. From that look of sorrow in her eyes it was evident that her own nightmares plagued her.
“You have nightmares?” I inquired. “About what?”
“Lots of things.” That seemed all she was prepared to divulge.
“Like what?”
“Visions of the night I was turned, things like that.”
She'd never really spoken about that night besides telling me that she was attacked. Naively she'd invited in a couple of vampires who'd tricked her by claiming their car had broken down and they needed to use her phone to call AAA. But the story always ended there, and she would change the subject when I asked her what she did when she woke up. I wasn't foolish; I knew she'd had to feed, and I knew it was unlikely that she'd taken from a willing giver.
“I don't want to talk about them, honey,” she said, slight agitation in her voice and face.
I wanted to press her further about them, because just the mere thought of the nightmares visibly distressed her. Being someone's girlfriend meant supporting them, listening to their troubles, and helping them cope; wasn't it my duty to inquire? But I didn't press, I kissed her. She needed that more than my snooping.
“So, will you do it?” I asked, once my kisses had successfully eradicated all traces of agitation from her.
“Do you think I should?”
“I can't make that decision for you.”
“I'd still like to know your opinion.”
I thought about it. If she got caught she could be jailed for up to five years. In jail, she could only feed on animals, which apparently tasted vile and made vampires ill (though she told me this was how she'd survived before she'd found donors). She likely wouldn't be allowed visitors either, and the conditions in their section of the jails were atrocious.
“I don't think you should,” I said, feeling only the slightest ping of guilt. “I'm being selfish, plain and simple. If anything happened to you I would never forgive myself.”
“But a part of you wanted me to, otherwise you would never have brought it up.”
“I hadn't thought it through. And honestly, I didn't think you'd even consider it.”
“If I can help a child in need...” She searched my eyes for assent. In hers I saw that she'd already made up her mind. “What if we're very careful? I can make sure the blood can't be traced back to me. It won't be difficult.”
I still didn't like the sound of it, but she needed me to be okay with her choice. “How will you donate it?”
“I'll get Robyn to take some from me. A bag should suffice. Then she'll get someone unconnected to me to deliver it to Hilarie.” She stroked my face, smiling reassuringly. “Don't look so worried, baby. I won't get caught. People do this sort of thing all the time.”
Well let them do it this time, I wanted to shout. I hated Hilarie at that moment, and I hated myself even more so for ever passing on the request.
“Enough about that,” she said. “Are you looking forward to your birthday tomorrow? I still don't know why you didn't let me throw you a party.”
I laughed. “Because I don't have any friends! Not real ones, anyway. Petr is, like, the only friend I have.”
“We could invite your sister. I'd have her flown out. It would be great to meet her.”
April had met Hilarie around the three-month mark of our relationship, and they'd hit it off straight away. I didn't have the heart to tell Jean that April would likely never fly out to meet her, or me now, perhaps, after our conversation. Jean was a million times nicer than Hilarie, but she just didn't have the right blood.
“I don't want a party. I want to celebrate quietly – with my best friend during the day, and the woman I love in the evening.”
Every time I told her I loved her, it produced the biggest, goofiest smile on her face. Such simple words that could change her whole mood.
“Quietly? So that's what you call jumping out of an airplane from a hundred million feet?” she joked. When she'd asked me what I wanted for my birthday, I'd told her the dream I'd always had of skydiving. Before settling down and starting a family, my father used to go skydiving frequently. He once entertained the idea of becoming an instructor. A bit of a daredevil in his youth; I'd inherited that from him. My relationship with Jean, in many ways, could have been seen as a game of life and death.
I giggled. “If you had such a problem with me going, you shouldn't have paid for it.”
I rubbed my nose lovingly against her cold one. Being a sap and showing my affection was so easy and natural with her.
“Well, I did say you could have anything you wanted. How was I to know you would choose something so... treacherous?”
“More people die in car crashes than they do sky-diving,” I said with a know-it-all air.
She laughed in her ever so posh way, which was a huge turn on. “You're really going to use that one on me? How many people drive compared to the amount that go skydiving? Of course there will be fewer fatalities with the latter.”
“Nothing's going to happen to me. It's really safe.”
“I don't like that I won't be around to protect you.”
“You can't protect me from everything, Jean,” I said. “Though I know you try to.”
She still didn't look convinced, but she let me kiss her and tell her that I loved her again to make her feel better about it.
“My coworkers will be wondering what's keeping me. I should get back to work,” I said, after several more minutes of canoodling.
“They know exactly what's keeping you. Your lovesick boss can't keep her hands off you.” She slid both hands stealthily down by back, and let them rest on my butt, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Didn't I tell you giving your boss sexual favors was in your employment contract?”
“Talk about abusing your position!” I said, taking mock-offense. “That's sexual harassment.”
To that she squeezed my butt again, her perfect white teeth sparkling behind her lewd grin.
“But you can abuse your position all day long, as far as I'm concerned,” I added, kissing her.
TWENTY-TWO
An expression of pure disapproval was never far from Robyn's face. Jean had grown accustomed to it, and accepted it for what it was. But this look, as she slipped the bag of blood into a messenger bag, was far more pronounced than the others.
“This is a really bad idea,” Robyn said for the seventh time that evening.
Jean, who had a palm pressed to the crease in her arm where the needle had been, removed it. There wasn't a trace of blood. “You think everything I do is a bad idea.”
“You don't owe this kid anything. And who is it anyway? I don't know why everything's so hush-hush.”
“Does it really matter who it is? A child in need is a child in need.”
“She
put you up to this, didn't she? That kid you're obsessed with.”
Jean shot her one of those tired not-this-again looks that Robyn knew too well because Jean had been giving them a lot lately. Ever since she made it official with Lissa.
“Just tell me the man you hired can get it delivered this evening, and delivered safely. You have Hilarie's address, right?”
Robyn nodded sullenly. “It's all sorted. You can still change your mind though.”
“I don't need to change my mind.”
She watched Robyn set the bag aside and sit with her on the couch. In her assistant and former lover's eyes the disapproval shone bright. She knew Robyn thought her foolish and careless for the choices she made concerning Lissa. And maybe she was all of those things. She hadn't stopped to think about it; she was too busy being happy.
“Do you need to feed?”
“Yes.” The blood loss had made her slightly light-headed. A quick bite would do her good.
Robyn slid closer to her, swept her hair to one side. Her tanned skin looked soft and delicious as Jean withdrew her fangs and pierced her exposed neck. The moan that Robyn elicited was equal parts relief and delight. Relief at getting to experience the sensation again after several weeks without it; delight because, when it came to gratification, you couldn't beat the feeling of a vampire sinking their teeth into you.
Jean drank the warm liquid ravenously. Her taste was distinct, refreshing and sweet. Everyone tasted different.
She felt a hand creeping into her pants. Once upon a time the two acts went perfectly together. But a lot had happened since then; Lissa had happened since then. Still suctioned onto Robyn's neck, she blindly grabbed her arm at the wrist and removed the hand from her jeans before it reached its true destination. That didn't deter Robyn, however. Once more, she wormed a hand into Jean's pants, seeking out the area she missed so much.
In a hasty move, Jean withdrew her fangs.
“What do you think you're doing?” she asked, wrenching Robyn's hand away.
“I thought you would like it,” Robyn said, taken aback.
“Well you thought wrong. Didn't I tell you we don't do that anymore? My loyalty is with Lissa, you know that.”
Robyn growled and threw up her hands in frustration. “God! It's Lissa, Lissa, fucking Lissa. Day in, day out. She's changing you. Vampires never have just one lover; it's not in their nature.”
Jean got to her feet, wiping the traces of blood from her lips. “I have, and she's all I need. All I'll ever need when it comes to sex.” When it comes to matters of the heart also, she thought to herself but didn't bother saying. It would only have fueled Robyn's anger, and worsened the situation.
Robyn shook her head in disbelief. “You're acting like a lovesick teenager, Jean. This pledge of fidelity, moving her into your home and bed after only just meeting her. And don't even get me started on the romantic dinner you're having prepared right now. You can't even eat food!”
Jean knew it wasn't said to hurt her feelings, but nevertheless that was the outcome of Robyn's words. She'd hired a world-renowned chef for Lissa's birthday – for the dinner she'd planned for her. A fancy dinner was what normal couples did, and she wanted Lissa to feel as though they were a normal couple. She wanted to feel that way too. But being reminded that she couldn't eat with her girlfriend, couldn't enjoy the food she'd spent so much money having prepared, hurt more than she ever thought it could.
“You should leave now, Robyn. Lissa will be home soon.” She spoke with her back to her for two reasons: because she didn't want Robyn to see her sorrow; and because if she looked at her, she would want to hurt her.
Robyn hesitated for a moment before deciding it was best to just go.
“I'll get this to the handler now,” she said, picking up the bag then exiting the room.
The gold necklace sparkled under the chandelier as she peered at it for the umpteenth time since purchasing it. A custom made necklace with a heart pendant and an engraving on the back: To Lissa, my love, my life, my heart. Love always, Jean. She wondered if it was too much, now that the moment of truth was almost upon her. Those were big, serious words for such a new relationship. There was always the possibility that she could scare her off.
The flame of the candles in front of her flickered and danced. Sandra had set the table for two, using the finest china in the mansion. A three-course meal for one had been prepared. An expensive bottle of vintage champagne chilled in the ice bucket. Jean's glass of room temperature water sat untouched. It was the only thing she could consume, besides blood.
No, the necklace wasn't too much. Nothing was too much for Lissa. She would give her the moon and the stars if she could. She wanted to give her everything because she'd taken everything from her, which was something she would spend the whole of Lissa's life making up for.
As it always did when she dwelt on it too much, the thought filled her with melancholy and despair. She couldn't separate one feeling from another. The good and the bad were destined to be connected for eternity.
She heard the front door click, and she scrambled to hide the necklace in her pocket again. Seconds later, Lissa appeared at the dining-room door.
“Oh my God, Jean. Is this for me?” Gushing, she dropped her shopping bags at the door, eyes wide as saucers as they surveyed the table spread. The sight of the shopping bags caused a pang in Jean's heart. Only with Lissa did she truly – desperately – miss being human. They were apart for so long during the day, and she couldn't do the things with her that a regular girlfriend could, like go shopping.
She stood up to embrace Lissa. “Happy birthday, my darling.”
“You really didn't have to do this. You've already done enough.”
“I can never do enough for you.”
She pecked her on the lips, but Lissa stayed for more, which Jean happily gave.
“You're the most amazing girlfriend ever.”
“How was your day, birthday girl?” Jean asked when they sat down to eat.
“Amazing! Being up there, feeling the wind in my face like that... There's nothing like it. I'm definitely going again next year.”
That was the last thing Jean wanted to hear. She'd had more than one nightmare about Lissa having an accident while skydiving, and that evening had woken up with a terrible feeling swirling in her stomach. Only when she'd read the text message from Lissa, sent earlier in the day, saying that she was still alive and well and no mishaps had taken place, did her heartbeat return to its normal pace. She was certain that she would be the first vampire in history to die of a heart attack, thanks to her worrying about Lissa. A slightly clumsy, dare-devil girlfriend would give anyone a heart attack – human and vampire alike.
But they would deal with that if and when the time came. Tonight, they would be as close to a normal couple as they could get.
She smelled like coconut body wash, having just come out of the shower. If Jean closed her eyes and touched the tip of her tongue to Lissa's bare back, she could almost taste the coconut. With every measured, sensual kiss she planted on her warm flesh as Lissa lay naked on her stomach in their bed, she elicited a contented moan from the girl's lips. Around her neck sat the gold necklace, the only thing she now wore. It hadn't been too much. In fact, it had caused tears of joy when she'd given it to her.
“It's beautiful. I'm never taking this off,” Lissa had said at dinner, stroking it with pride.
Now dinner was over, but the night certainly wasn't.
Jean shrugged off her own bathrobe, joining Lissa in her nudity. They'd showered together for the first time, and it had been wonderful. She'd gained a new appreciation for the female body as the water gushed over her lover's curves. They'd made love there, unable to resist the urge.
“I can't get enough of your body,” she whispered, sweeping Lissa's shoulder-length hair to one side and kissing her neck, pinning her arms down by the elbows, pressing her breasts lightly to her back, her nipples hardening against her. “I can't get enough
of you, Lissa Rowan, and I'm not afraid to admit it. I love you with a fierce passion that knows no limits.”
Words were cheap; she just prayed the girl believed her, because she had never been so honest in her entire life. This was one thing she could be honest with her about.
“I love you, too,” Lissa said. “And this has been the best birthday I've had since I was twelve. Fate brought you into my life; love keeps you in it.”
Could it really be called fate? Jean didn't think so. Tragedy had brought them together. Some would call that a certain type of fate.
“Jean?” Lissa said, turning her head a little to see her making her way down her back with a wet kiss trail. “You said I could have anything I wanted today, right?”
“Anything.” Jean made her way back up to Lissa's neck. “Anything,” she said again.
“I want you to bite me.”
Jean froze. Suddenly her throat became dry. She didn't speak or breathe. The silence in the room was loud.
“Will you bite me?”
“I... I can't, Lissa.”
Lissa twisted around beneath her so that they were now face to face. She frowned. “Why not? You said I could have anything. I never asked for any of the other stuff; the skydiving, the gift vouchers, the dinner, the necklace. But I'm asking for this. Will you do it?”
“No,” she said, her voice firm.
“Why not?” Lissa demanded, an angry rouge coloring her face. She sounded like a child throwing a tantrum.
“I don't want to. Please don't ask me to.”
“So you feed from every other person, but when it comes to me, your girlfriend, you don't want to? Is my blood not good enough for you or something?”
Jean rolled her eyes. “You know it's not that, Lissa.”
“I don't know shit! Get off me!” She wrestled Jean off. “You said I was your one and only. You said you loved me, and yet you don't want to give me something you give everyone else.”