I pulled it out. It was a skein of dark, blue-violet yarn. "Gavin says you knit stuff! So we got you yarn!"
"Wow, thank you. That's really sweet of you two," I said, glancing at Gavin. He gave me a small smile.
"I helped," Jim protested. "I picked the color. It's indigo—for Team Indigo."
"It's a very nice color, Jim." I paused, running my fingers over the soft yarn. "Wait. If you did all this... how long was I out?"
"A bit more than six hours."
"Six hours?" My dream—or whatever it was—had only seemed to last a few minutes. I started to sit up. Predictably, Abby pushed me back into the bed.
"Yeah. It's about 7 PM, now. But don't you worry—we're going to stay here with you all night. You won't be alone for even a minute." Her hand pressed against my shoulder, warm and comforting. "The least I can do after you saved me."
Jim opened his mouth to say something. Gavin kicked him, and he closed it.
"No. I'll be good. You all should get some sleep."
"Okay! Fine by me," Gavin said, pretending to get out of the chair. Abby grabbed his arm and dragged him back down.
"No. We're staying."
***
I woke up at 6:03 AM.
Loud footsteps thumped by the closed door, fading down the hall with every passing second. I sighed, closed my eyes, and rolled over.
But I didn't fall asleep—I was starving.
I sat up, and my eyes fell on Gavin, Abby, and Jim. Jim lay on the floor, curled into the fetal position. Gavin slept on the couch, propped up by the armrest; Abby leaned against his shoulder, snoring softly.
No reason to wake them. I slunk out of bed and tiptoed across the room.
The hallway, unlike the room, was lit with bright fluorescent lights. It was silent, save for my bare feet clicking across the linoleum. The nurse's station was empty. All the doors along the corridor were closed.
Except for one.
Room 41.
Its door hung wide open, the black shadows spilling out into the hallway.
I shuddered. Isn't that where the dead guy is? I increased my pace. Don't look. Don't look. I imagined a body stretched out on the hospital bed—stiff, cold, pale. Covered by a thin sheet that showed the sharp nose, the sunken belly, the rigid feet.
Just keep walking. I focused my eyes on the bathroom door, at the little black icon of a woman plastered to the sign. Almost there.
I crossed the threshold of the room.
Instinctively, my head turned.
I looked.
Light trickled in through the large window over the bed. The couch, the bed, the chairs were all in deep shadow, their rigid outlines barely touched by the light.
But even in the darkness, I could see it.
The bed was empty.
The sheets were bunched at the bottom of the bed. A cup was overturned on the nightstand, spilling thick drops of water down the side. A hospital gown lay on the floor, rumpled and tangled.
I guess they got here already and took him out, I thought.
But as I walked towards the vending machines, I couldn't shake the chill that ran down my spine.
If they took him down to the morgue...
Why did they leave the hospital gown there?
My mind snapped back to what I'd seen. The silent, empty city. The people swarming in the streets. Staring at me.
The undead.
What if the dead body got up and walked away on its own? What if he was one of them? I shook my head, trying to shake off the thoughts.
That's impossible. At best, what I saw was a reaction to the Tentaclon goo. At worst, it was another hallucination, like the blond man.
Either way... it wasn't real.
I stared up at the vending machines. One was a standard soda machine. Another was a snack machine, holding fancies like Funyans and fried tentacles. The third read Liquid Specialties, showcasing options like Black Vanilla Sludge and Caffeinated O+.
“Kira.”
I turned around to see Gavin. “Oh! Hi!” I sheepishly pulled at the hospital gown—it only covered a few inches of my thighs. Then I crossed my arms over my chest. The fabric was thin, and it was very cold. “What are you doing up?”
“You must’ve woken me.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“It’s fine. I’m a creature of the night, anyway. Spent half my life trying to force my sleep schedule into normalcy, and I still find myself waking at all hours of the night.”
He walked over to the Liquid Specialties machine and pressed the first option. The machine churned and rumbled. Clink—a red can fell into the bin. Pop! He pulled the tab back and took a long sip. I followed suit and got a root beer.
"Thanks for covering for me back there, by the way," I said. “With Abby.”
"Of course. Jim and Abby really haven't figured it out yet, right?"
"No. Not yet." I stared at the vending machines, imagining how awful it would be when they inevitably did. "Thanks for setting up that appointment with Jim, though. I learned a lot."
"I saw the scimitar. Good choice of weapon."
"Oh. Thanks. I'm hoping to get a lot better at it."
"I'm sure you will."
His green eyes met mine, glowing in the low light. Then he crumpled the can between his hands, threw it into the trash, and strode back down the hallway. "You coming, Kira?"
I laughed. “I don’t have a choice, do I? They haven’t released me yet.”
He laughed. “True.”
We walked back towards the room.
CHAPTER TEN
The next night, after I was discharged, the four of us headed out to You're So Vein.
"You survived your first week. Congratulations," Gavin said in my ear.
"You thought I wouldn't survive?!"
"The odds weren’t exactly good."
"I dislike this place," Jim announced, as we walked towards the bar.
"What? Because of the vampires?" Gavin asked, narrowing his eyes at him.
"No! Because of the music. They're playing Top 40 hits from a decade ago."
It was true. Lady Gaga's Poker Face played through the immense speakers on the dance floor. "I didn't know you were such a connoisseur of pop hits, Jim," I said.
"I... may listen to pop while training."
I burst out into laughter. It was a great image—Jim, raising his immense arms, throwing a spear while listening to Camila Cabello.
We slid into seats at a table in the back. Gavin ordered his usual Bloody Mary; Abby ordered wings with "blood-free barbecue sauce." Jim ordered a burger.
I got cheesy fries. Eating medical ward food of peas and mushy roast beef had left me seriously carb-deprived.
"So, Kira," Abby said, through a mouthful of wings, "you've got to show me your powers. I'll keep my eyes open this time. I promise."
I nervously glanced over at Gavin. He winked. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, confused. "Yeah, Kira. Why don't you show us?" he asked.
"Uh, I don't really feel up to it."
"Come on, come on!" Abby said, her dark, round eyes dancing with excitement. "You're absolutely incredible!"
Gavin reached his hand around the corner of the table. His finger touched the ketchup—out of Abby's, and Jim's, sight. "Show us, Kira," he said, giving me a pointed nod.
"Okay." I closed my eyes tight. "Mmmmmm," I hummed, pressing my fingers to my temples. That's how Erika did it. Right?
The ketchup skittered a few inches across the table.
"Oh my gosh! That's so cool!" Abby said. "If I could do that, I'd just sit on the couch all day. Get all my diet cokes without lifting a finger."
Jim stared at me, skeptically.
"Oh, yeah, I do that all the time." I looked around, desperately searching for a change of subject.
My eyes fell on a table in the back. A group of girls sat giggling and whispering—but before each was soda. Not blood. "Hey, they're not with vampires," I said. "Why are they here?"
"They're coffin chas
ers," Gavin said, rolling his eyes.
"What?"
"Human girls that want to get with a vampire. They've read Twilight, and they're here to meet their Edward," Abby said—with a lot less cynicism than Gavin. She almost seemed… intrigued… by the idea.
"Does that happen often?"
"I mean, it's how he got born," Abby said with a laugh.
Gavin frowned. “That was before Twilight was even published,” he muttered.
I stared at the girls. Two guys were approaching them, wide grins revealing fangs. A feeling of dread settled in my stomach... I felt like I was watching a tiger stalk its prey. "Isn't it dangerous?"
"Why?"
"Bloodlust and all that?"
Gavin shook his head. "No, bloodlust is a total myth. Fearmongering by the media. It's preposterous, really. If you all are hungry, do you go out into the pasture and start stabbing a cow? Or do you go through a McDonald’s drive-thru like a normal person?"
"That's a vivid analogy," Jim said, suddenly eyeing his hamburger with disgust.
"So it's not like the movies, then," I said, watching the coffin-chasers. The vampires were taking seats at the table. The girls looked ready to melt with excitement. "No torrid love affair, where the girl's in love with a vampire, but they can't be together because he could lose control and bite her at any moment."
"Right."
"So if you wouldn't be biting people anyway, why are you so insecure about not having fangs?" Abby asked, stealing one of my fries.
Gavin's face flushed. "I'm not that insecure..."
"Oh, yes, you are," she said.
"Fine. I mean, it's like dogs, yeah? They're not out hunting caribou—they eat dog food out of a bowl. But if you saw a dog with no teeth... wouldn't you think it's ugly?"
"No. I would think it's rather cute," Jim said.
"Well, thanks, Jim."
"That wasn't metaphorical. I was just talking about the dogs."
"Oh."
Abby broke into laughter. I sat back, twirling a fry in ketchup. It picked up large globs of red, and for a second, I imagined it was blood.
"I'm going to go to the bathroom," Abby said. "Take care of these guys, okay?"
A minute after Abby left, Jim left to get a drink at the bar. Which left Gavin and I alone.
"So, I have a question for you," Gavin said, leaning towards me.
"Yeah?"
"Do you think a human girl would ever consider going out with a dhampir?" A smile crossed his pale face, and his fingers brushed against mine. "I've never tried it that way before. Always did the date first, then told them the truth."
My heart began to flutter. Suddenly I was picturing us on the couch, a cup of blood on the coffee table. Laughing as we watched a vampire movie, pointing out all the inaccuracies. Snuggled, together, as a couple.
Forget Adam Tsang. He had nothing on Gavin.
"Sure," I said, trying to keep my huge grin from looking dorkily enthusiastic. "I think I—any girl would love to."
He opened his mouth to say something else, but Abby was back at the table.
"Did you know the bathroom has enchanted hand-dryers?" Abby dove into the empty seat, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It stays on until your hands are fully dry. And even gives them a spritz of perfume. Wanna smell?"
"That's cool," I said, absentmindedly. Suddenly I was thinking about my frizzed hair, my smudged makeup. "I think I'll go check them out for myself. Be right back."
I walked away from the table, meandering through the dancing crowd. Taylor Swift's Love Story rung in my ears. As the door swung shut behind me, it became a muffled din.
I pulled out my lip gloss and slicked it over my lips. My dark hair had frizzed up in the humidity; I wet my hands and smoothed it. I darkened the eyeliner on my lids, pulled down my shirt to show cleavage that didn't really exist, and then walked back out into the bar.
I froze.
Gavin and Abby weren't at the table.
They were on the dance floor. Swaying slowly in each other's arms. He was smiling wider than I'd ever seen him, whispering something in her ear. She was laughing and sticking out her tongue.
Gavin hadn't been talking about me.
He'd been talking about Abby.
It didn’t make sense. Abby was so talkative and eccentric. Gavin was sarcastic and blunt. Yet there they were, twirling in each other's arms, grinning as if they'd just found a soulmate in the other.
I stomped over to the table and grabbed my wallet. I pulled on my scarf, buttoned my jacket, and started for the door.
"Where are you going?"
I turned around to see Jim standing behind me.
"I don't know. Just need some fresh air."
"Can I come with you?" he asked. "I can't stand this music."
I shrugged. "Okay. Sure."
I pushed the door open and hurried onto the street. Cars whizzed by, their tires sloshing and churning through puddles. The streetlamps glowed and flickered. Couples walked up and down the sidewalk, whispering to each other.
Across the street stood the park. The leaves fluttered and shook in the breeze; the lone streetlamp shone down on the cobblestone bridge. The stream gurgled and glistened.
"Want to check out the park?" I asked.
He nodded.
We walked over and stood on the bridge. The water churned and rippled below. Empty cans and bottles lapped against the shore. A dead crow lay along the bank, still and lifeless in its shallow grave.
We weren't dating. We weren't together. We haven’t even known each other more than a few days.
The romance was all in your head.
It wasn't the first time that had happened. Not by a long shot. I'm notorious for misinterpreting feelings, I thought. I picked up a piece of gravel from the bridge and chucked it into the water. The reflections broke and reassembled as it fell in, sunk to the bottom. Kevin—my lab partner, who I'd asked to prom. Only after I spent hours doing my hair, putting on my prom dress, did I learn the night was "as friends." Gabriel—my classmate in Calculus, who invited me to his D&D group. Turned out he really did just need a cleric.
Jim followed suit. He also picked up a rock from the bridge and threw it into the water below. Once it plunked in, he turned to me. "You didn't move that bottle of ketchup."
"Oh, uh..."
I looked up into his face. Somehow, I couldn't lie to him. He stared at me with his dark eyes, as if inspecting my soul.
"No, Gavin and I were just playing a prank on Abby.”
"I suspected as much. Don't worry, I understand." He picked up another rock and gracefully threw it in. "Magical abilities are personal. Intimate. They're not meant to be used as parlor tricks." He sighed, and bent over to pick up another rock. "I found that out the hard way. Are you familiar with the Underground?"
“Yeah. Never been there, though.”
“Good.” With a flick of his immense wrist, the rock sailed over the bridge. It skipped twice before falling into the water. “I lived there before joining NIMP. It was terrible. The ventilation is awful, and there’s the constant risk of flooding from the swamp.”
“Yeah. Who thought building an underground city was a good idea?”
“Harrison Elmer, when he started construction in the Moorshire caverns—”
“It was a rhetorical question, Jim.”
“Right.”
“So what happened?”
He sighed, then picked up another rock. “I sold salves and potions at the market down there because I couldn’t afford to live in the city. While there, I started courting a woman named Elle.”
“Courting?!”
“Yes. Is there a problem with that?”
“No, no… just…” I waved my hand. “Nevermind. Continue.”
“Elle was a shapeshifter. She could take on several forms, though she usually only switched between two: her true, human form, and that of a fox. She ran a little pawn shop for magical relics and made a decent living. Nothing extravagant, but ce
rtainly enough to live.” He sighed, and turned the rock over in his hands. “Then, one day, she told me she’d accepted a position with the Barney & Buzo Circus. She would be closing up her shop to shapeshift, on stage, and make triple what she’d been making with her shop.”
“So she ended things with you?”
He sighed. “She probably would have, but I ended it first. I didn’t want to be a part of that. A few months later, I left the Underground altogether. Because that’s what it is: a toxic place built on money, cheap thrills, and crime.”
“Probably literally toxic, too, with the lack of ventilation.”
He broke into a smile. “Probably.”
We stood in silence for a few minutes, just watching the water ripple beneath us. Then the door to the bar swung open.
A couple came out, but it wasn't Gavin and Abby. The girl's blonde hair shimmered in the streetlamp like gold. The guy's tall, lean figure sidled up next to her.
"It's one of the coffin-chaser girls! And her vampire,” I said.
I watched with morbid fascination as they crossed the street. They're coming towards the park. I shifted off the bridge and fell into the shadows. We shouldn't watch. But that nagging feeling returned. Predator. Prey. What if he tries to hurt her?
I glanced at Jim. He seemed intrigued.
They walked down the sidewalk, taking no note of me—or the almost-seven-foot tall tattooed man standing next to me.
"I feel so vulnerable," the girl said, as they walked down the path. "Like, you could just bite me and kill me. But you won't, because you're a good vampire."
"Uh-huh," the guy said, not paying much attention. As the light washed over him, I saw his face. He might have been the most vampiric-looking vampire I'd seen yet—hook nose, black hair, a long black coat.
"It's really sexy." She flipped her hair and tilted her head, trying to expose her neck as sensuously as possible. "Are you tempted, Vlad?"
"My name's not Vlad," he said, annoyed. "It's Brad."
"Vlad is sexier. It's so vampiric."
"To be honest, Katie, you're making me uncomfortable." He took a step back from her, pulling his coat around him. "I feel like you just want to hook up with me because I'm a vampire."
"No! That's not true!" She started towards him, her blue eyes pleading. "I love lots of things about you—that have nothing to do with being a vampire."
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