Crave

  “When’s Mom getting home?” she whispered, hugging herself to stop the shivering.

  Martin was on his feet in an instant. “Not for another half hour.” He took Shay’s arm and pointed her toward the stairs, helping her up to her room.

  “I feel weak,” she mumbled.

  “I’ll get the IV supplies. You put on something dry.” Martin closed her door behind him. Shay stumbled over to the dresser and pulled out her warmest sweater and a pair of cords. It took forever to get changed because her fingers were so cold, but finally she was dry and the shaking had stopped. By the time Martin came back, she was in bed and under the flamingo comforter.

  “Two transfusions in a day is pushing it, Shay,” he said quietly.

  Shay nodded. It was the closest Martin would ever get to yelling at her, she knew. There was an unspoken rule between them that he couldn’t reprimand, lecture, or guilt her. That was a job for her real parent, Mom. “It’s not because the effects wore off superfast. I just … used them up,” Shay said.

  “So it goes into my research as an aberration?” Martin asked.

  “Yeah,” Shay promised. Translation: I abused this new treatment, and I promise not to do it again.

  Martin swabbed a spot on the back of her hand. Shay hated to have needles there, but her arms were like pincushions now. She gritted her teeth, closed her eyes, and waited for the blood. For the vision.

  When I feel Gabriel’s strength, it will be better, she thought. I’ll forget all about the cold, and the weakness, and I’ll be healthy again for a little while.

  But there was only darkness. She could see in the dark—Gabriel could see. But he didn’t know where he was, and the various cabinets and counters he was able to make out didn’t give him any sense of what the place looked like.

  Besides, all he could see was part of the ceiling and one wall. He lay flat on his back, and something held his body down. Or else he’d been paralyzed. He couldn’t tell, couldn’t feel his arms or legs. Couldn’t even turn his head. It lay there, facing to the right, his eyes focused on that one wall. On the door in the middle of it.

  For all he knew, there was someone behind him, getting ready to attack, and he couldn’t even see them. He was helpless, defenseless. Was this how it had been for his family?

  His pulse was loud in his ears, like a drumbeat. His heart slammed against his chest. He could feel that much. He felt the fear.

  The door opened, spilling a shaft of cold light into the room. Not the sun. Fluorescent. A dark figure silhouetted in the doorway, a painting on the wall behind him. Sunset over the water.

  Gabriel felt a stab of bitter anger. Sunset. If only he could move, he would attack. He would feed and not stop. He would—

  “Never again!” Shay’s mother jerked the needle out of her hand. Shay cried out in pain, the breath rushing out of her. “How dare you do this without even telling me?”

  “She was ready to collapse,” Martin retorted.

  Shay’s mind was reeling from the suddenness of reality crashing back in on her … and the strangeness of that vision. “What’s happening?” she whispered.

  “These treatments are ruining you!” her mother yelled. “What do you think you were doing in that river, young lady?”

  Shay just gaped at her, trying to make sense of it all.

  “Olivia called me on my cell,” her mother continued. “She told me what you did tonight.”

  “I’ll kill her,” Shay gasped.

  “You’ll kill yourself!” Her mom whirled back to Martin. “Shay would never have even thought of pulling this kind of thing before we started the treatments.”

  “What did you do?” he asked Shay. “You jumped in the water?”

  “She and some lamebrain boy swam out to an island in the middle of the Black River,” Mom said. “On a dare.”

  “Nobody dared me; I wanted to.” Shay tried to sit up farther. She wanted to get out of bed, but her legs felt heavy. She hadn’t had enough blood.

  “You swam there and back? Isn’t there a fast current?” Martin sounded excited. “How long were you in the water? Did you do a self-check when you got out?”

  “No,” Shay said. “I felt fine. It was the cold that bothered me, and then I started feeling weak.”

  “But you were able to swim with no complications?” he pressed.

  “Enough!” her mother yelled. “This is not a good thing, Martin. It’s reckless, dangerous behavior. The blood is making her psychotic.”

  “Jesus, Mom, I’m right here. I can hear you.” Shay forced her legs off the bed and stood up. She was stronger than before, just not as strong as usual after a transfusion. And her head was still foggy from the vision. Gabriel had felt more like Shay than like himself. So weak . . .

  “It’s working, Emma. It’s the first thing that’s even made a dent in her deterioration,” Martin was saying. “There’s no coincidence—”

  “The aggression is going to kill her faster than the disease.” Mom was crying as she yelled at Martin. Shay watched it all with a strange buzzing in her head. She couldn’t process anything. It was as if she were still stuck in that dark room with Gabriel.

  “You had to expect some side effects. With time, I can try to isolate the specific—”

  “Shut up!” Shay said, cutting Martin off mid-sentence. “Both of you! I’m still too weak. I need to finish the transfusion.”

  “No.” Her mother’s tone was more decisive than Shay had ever heard. “No more of that blood. It’s turning you into a stranger.”

  “It’s letting me be who I want,” Shay said.

  “I’ve known you since the day you were born. You are not a girl who takes needless risks and puts herself in danger,” her mom replied.

  “Then you don’t know me as well as you think,” Shay snapped.

  “No more of these transfusions, and that’s final,” her mother insisted, looking at Martin as well as Shay.

  “Then I guess I’ll just have to die,” Shay said.

  Her mother reached for her, but Shay shoved past. In the bathroom, she’d be alone. She could lock them out. She stalked inside and slammed the door. By the time she hit the lock button, Martin and Mom were already fighting again.

  “… more time, or this has all been for nothing,” Martin was saying.

  “The blood is tainted. It’s turning her—”

  Shay turned on the faucet in the tub full blast, drowning out their voices. She sank down to the cool tile floor and dropped her head in her hands, trying to think. She needed blood. They could fight all night, but she didn’t care. If she could just get them out of her room, she could give herself a transfusion. She knew how, after all these years.

  “Martin won’t leave the equipment in my room,” she murmured. And even if he did, Mom definitely would notice and get it out of there.

  But without the blood, even the strength she had now would disappear. She felt all right, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what she’d gotten used to these past two weeks. And that vision … Gabriel so afraid … she had to see the rest. What had happened to him? It was the first time she’d seen him weak. Like her.

  What did it mean? Her visions were usually inspiring, interesting. Not scary. Not bleak. Did it mean this was it? If Gabriel was weak, did that mean even her mind had accepted her sickness? Was she dying now?

  Shay pulled herself up to the sink and stared in the mirror. Her long dark hair was a mess from the water. Her light blue eyes looked almost electric against her pale skin. But she wasn’t dizzy or out of breath, and her hands weren’t shaking. This was better than she’d felt for most of her life. And if Mom had her way, this was the last time Shay would feel it.

  It’s not enough.

  She’ d loved the strength of the new treatments. She wasn’t ready to let go of that feeling. She wasn’t ready to die. Not yet.

  Maybe if I finished the vision, Gabriel would’ve gotten better, she thought. Maybe that person was coming to help him. She remembered t
he dark figure in the doorway, the sunset painting behind him.

  “Sunset over the water.” Shay shook her head. It seemed so unfair, almost as if it were there to remind Gabriel of the last time he saw the sun. No wonder he’d been angry. But there was something else. Shay frowned at her reflection. The painting—she had seen it before. Seen it lots of times, in fact. It was a watercolor that hung in Martin’s office.

  The realization stunned her.

  “Thank you, subconscious,” Shay whispered. The visions had never given her such a clear message before, but there was no mistaking it now. Martin’s office—where he kept his medical supplies. Where he kept the blood he used to treat her. They never had more than a few bags here at home, and sometimes Martin went to the office before a transfusion, to get more blood.

  If Mom wouldn’t let Martin give her a transfusion here, she’d go to the lab and give herself one.

  Shay turned off the water. It was quiet outside the door. Mom and Martin must’ve moved their argument downstairs, probably thinking Shay was taking a bath to calm down.

  She inched open the bathroom door and tiptoed into her empty room, closing the bathroom door behind her. They wouldn’t come to check on her for ten minutes or so. Enough time to get out.

  Martin always left his car keys in the ignition once he was home, so he wouldn’t ever lose them. It drove her mother insane, since Mom was a lock-every-door, check-every-window kind of person. But Martin figured if someone was going to break into the house, they probably weren’t after the car. And the house had an alarm, after all.

  He’d probably never thought that it would be someone inside the house taking the car.

  Shay pulled her window open, slowly, wincing at every squeak and bump it made. But judging from the volume of the voices downstairs, she figured no one would hear a couple of odd noises.

  Easing herself out onto the eave was simple. Getting over to the brick chimney was a little tougher. The roof slanted at a steep angle there, and once or twice her feet slipped, threatening to send her flying off the edge. But finally she was able to grab on to the bricks. She inched her way around, hugging the chimney for support. On the far side there was a branch that grew within a foot of the roof.

  The tree limb was almost bare now, just a few yellowed leaves clinging on. Shay closed her eyes for a second, trying to steady her nerves. She would have to let go of the chimney in order to grab the branch, and if she missed she would probably fall.

  It’s either that or give up on ever feeling healthy again, she thought.

  Shay got herself out to the very edge of the roof, hanging on to the chimney for support. Gabriel just let go of that rock spire, she thought, remembering her vision. No fear. He just let go and jumped.

  She stretched her right hand out … closer to the branch … closer … and finally she let go of the chimney, and jumped.

  One brief second of falling through the air and then she was hanging from the tree limb. She quickly grabbed on with her other hand, then pulled her legs up so she was straddling the branch. Did people really do things like this all the time? Her friends talked about sneaking out of their houses whenever they were grounded. It seemed like way too much trouble.

  When Gabriel did it, it was fun. But for Shay, it had been kind of terrifying.

  She gave herself only a few seconds to catch her breath, then she shimmied along the branch to the tree trunk and clambered down. She had to duck under the living room windows so Mom and Martin wouldn’t see her—not that they were looking. As far as she could tell, they were having the biggest shouting match of their entire marriage. She made it to the garage, punched the alarm code into the keypad, and opened the door.

  Inside Martin’s Range Rover, Shay quickly adjusted the seat and the mirrors, and glanced at the gear shift and the displays. She knew how to drive, because she’d insisted on taking Driver’s Ed with Olivia. It was one of those things sick girls were supposed to just opt out of, like gym and a love life. But Shay couldn’t bear to be the only one who didn’t know which pedal was the gas and which was the brake. She’d even gotten her learner’s permit, because you just had to take a written exam for that.

  But never her license, because she’d always been too weak to take the test. She could never be sure she wouldn’t suddenly pass out while driving along with the examiner.

  She was breaking rules all the time these days, though, so if she had to break the law by driving, what was the difference?

  “Okay. Reverse.” Shay started up the car and shifted as fast as she could. Mom and Martin might hear the engine, and she wanted to be gone before they came running out here. She hit the gas and tore backward down the driveway, managing to stop at the street with a jerk. Her heart pounding, Shay looked back at the house. Nobody there.

  Not the smoothest start, she thought. Must be because I only managed to get to half the Driver’s Ed classes. She shifted into DRIVE and pressed the gas more gently this time. The car felt heavier than she’d expected. Somehow, she’d thought it would be more like a video game.

  Martin’s office was about five miles away, but she could get there without going on any major roads. It would take longer, but the last thing she needed was to get into an accident right now.

  After a moment, Shay realized she’d been holding her breath. She chuckled. Swimming to the island, sneaking out, stealing Martin’s car … a lot of living for one day. Maybe her mom was right about this all being out of character, but only because she had a lot of living to make up for. She wouldn’t usually be a car thief. But she needed the blood. She could apologize once she felt strong. And maybe she’d have to stop taking so many chances, to prove to Mom that these treatments weren’t making her crazy.

  Maybe then she could keep getting more transfusions. More strength. More Gabriel visions.

  Shay turned the car into the parking lot of Martin’s office. It was a low brick building with a yard all around it. It used to be a diagnostic testing facility or something like that. It was way too big for Martin, but he’d bought the entire building anyway. Shay figured that was just how famous doctors rolled. Big car, big house, big office.

  The place was dark. She turned off the car and breathed a sigh of relief. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel like claws, kneading the leather the same way her mom did.

  “I’m okay. The car’s okay,” she said out loud, her voice shaking. “Martin won’t murder me if I bring the car back in one piece.”

  Shay forced her hands off the wheel and climbed out of the car. She didn’t even realize until she got to the office door that the place was locked. She had Martin’s key ring, but it wouldn’t help. The door had an electronic lock that required a password.

  Oh my God, I’m an idiot, Shay thought, staring at the glass door. She could see the waiting room inside and the doors to the lab rooms, so close. The blood that she needed was right in there, and she couldn’t get to it.

  Maybe she could figure out the password. Her mother’s name? His own name? Martin acted all humble, but she knew he had a healthy ego. He had entire rooms full of awards to prove it—and nobody got to go on Oprah unless they had a pretty high opinion of themselves.

  Tentatively, she reached out and typed MARTIN onto the keypad. It flashed red, gave a disapproving beep, and stayed locked.

  What else? EMMA? SHAY? The idea of it seemed absurd. Martin had joined their family, had married her mother … but they weren’t central enough to his life to be his password. Shay lowered her hand. She didn’t know how, but she was absolutely sure that their names wouldn’t work.

  “NOBEL PRIZE?” she whispered. That made more sense. If it ever came down to a choice between family and science for Martin, science would win. “CANCER CURE? SHAY’S CURE?”

  Desperate, she typed in CURE and got the same red beep.

  The lock probably wouldn’t let her have many more tries before it set off an alarm. Screw it, Shay thought. She hadn’t come this far for nothing. She returned to the Ra
nge Rover and got a tire iron. She wasn’t at her post-transfusion peak, but she was strong enough to smash through this door. She could use all the strength she had. More blood was waiting for her inside.

  Shay raised the tire iron high and slammed it into the glass—again, and again, and again—until she’d made a hole big enough for her to slip through. Thank God this place was so far from any other buildings and any other people who could hear her.

  It was dark in the waiting room, the only light coming from the EXIT SIGN over the door. Shay reached for the light switch, but stopped before she flipped it on. It was late at night. She didn’t want to draw any attention to herself—or the smashed-in door. Besides, she could see well enough.

  The blood will be in a fridge, she thought. She remembered one room that was basically filled with refrigerators. It was one of the smaller rooms, not a big lab. Shay knew that the first door along the hallway was Martin’s personal office. Beyond that, she wasn’t sure. She hadn’t been here in a while, and she’d never paid much attention. She had no interest in hearing the details of his research. She already knew more than she’d ever wanted to about blood and the many things that could go wrong with it.

  The only thing she wanted to know now was how to get that new blood into her veins.

  There were two labs, she remembered. Plus the cold room and an exam room. Maybe another storage room. She stood in the hallway for a moment, trying to remember which one was the cold room. The blood would be in there, but the IV supplies would be somewhere else. Martin might not even keep them in the exam room anymore, since he never saw patients. They might be in a supply closet. Shay glanced around as she thought. Her eyes were adjusting to the dimness in here, and light from the streetlights shone through the narrow windows that lined the top of the hall. The watercolors hung between the doors.

  Shay’s eyes automatically went to the sunset picture. Sunset over the water. The colors were invisible in the dark, but she could see the lines that formed the clouds. It was usually pink and orange, but now it just looked like shades of gray.

  A strange tingly feeling crept up the back of her neck, as if someone were watching her. She stepped closer to the picture. Gabriel could see colors at night; she knew that from her visions. He’d seen this painting in color, even though he was in the dark. He’d seen it through the doorway. …