Her brother lifted the shouting woman off her feet, carrying her from the room. Her words were reduced to mere howls as she pounded her small fists into his chest before dissolving completely and crying into his shirt. "My baby, my baby…" was all that could be heard as he exited the room with her in his arms, her husband and several other family members hastening to follow after them.
There was absolute silence in the building for several long moments, before loud whispering broke out through the room like the rustling of a forest's leaves; every person turning to those sitting beside them and gasping about what had happened.
Finally, appearing lost, the minister stood.
"Brothers and sisters, in light of these events I invite you to return to your homes. Family members are invited to stay for the personal wake; all others I leave with a blessing."
Lena hadn't realized that she was sitting on the edge of her seat, gripping her dress hem so tight her knuckles were turning white, until Elliot placed his hand over hers.
"You're shaking," he remarked. It was true; she was.
Slowly, she released her dress, her sweaty hands having crimped where she had held it in an odd, ruffled pattern. The two stared at the hem for a moment, before Elliot slipped an arm over her shoulders, a worried look on his face, as though concerned Lena might take a bite out of his arm for his audacity. She didn't, but merely looked at him, a dull expression in her normally bright eyes.
"Come on," he stood, dragging her to her feet. "Lets get you home. Did you drive yourself here?"
"No," she mumbled. "I don't have a car. Robert dropped me off. He didn't want to come in; said funerals made him feel sick." She laughed dryly. "Guess I see what he meant."
With a hand on her back, he steered her to the exit of the church, where the majority of the funeral's guests were also swarming.
"I'll drive you home," he told her, but remained silent as they made their way outside. Lena shivered as the frosty air hit her skin; November had barely started, but you could feel it; winter was but a few days away.
Taking her to a nondescript, beige car, he held the door open for her and waited until she had buckled herself in before getting in himself.
"Where do you live?" he asked, and she gave him instructions. Pulling her cell phone from her small black purse, she sent Robert a text message: Got a ride; don't need u 2 come here.
"Did what Mrs. Knight said upset you?" Elliot asked, glancing at her before returning his eyes to the road. "About nobody being safe?"
Lena nodded. "But it wasn't just that. It's everything; she's right, you know. The same guy must have killed that other lady; I mean, she looked just like Rebekah! And… she just lost it; she looked so professional, and then, boom, it was like her whole world changed."
She realized she was babbling and fell silent, remembering her awkwardness around Elliot. To her surprise, his hand slipped from the wheel, briefly curling around hers.
"Lena," he told her softly, "If I can help it, nobody will hurt you."
Lena stared at Elliot, calculating, her face hard as she studied his features. Then, as if something in her shifted, her eyes grew warmer. She spoke in a softer voice than she had ever used with him before.
"What she said, about vampires being an abomination?" Elliot winced, but nodded, listening. "She was wrong."
"Maybe not as wrong as you think," Elliot replied, his voice a bit dark. Then he smiled. "But thank you." Lena caught sight of his growing fangs; it had been over a week since he had drunk any blood; Donation Day was coming up soon.
They reached Lena's street and she told him the correct house number to pull up to. She unbuckled herself and stood, rooting in her purse for her keys. Elliot stopped her by grabbing her wrist.
"Lena," he said, and then paused, seeming to struggle for words. "I like talking to you. I like being around you. I know you don't like me much, but is it ok if you try?"
At Lena's confused stare, his cheeks flushed. "I mean, maybe be around me. Talk to me; treat me like I'm Robert or Megan. You know…"
"Friends?" Lena finished for him. He nodded vigorously.
"Yeah. Can we try that, please?"
Lena's heart felt as if it had flown up into her mouth for a moment; a surge of fear swept over her, memories of bra snapping, of being slammed against a wall and fondled, being called countless names simply because of a part of her anatomy she had no control over. And then the fear disappeared. She had been giving blood to Franz since junior high school, and not once had he glanced at her chest, teased her, insulted her. He had always been respectful, his eyes always squinting with a warm smile.
"Ok," she finally whispered, nodding, feeling tears prick her eyes as she quickly turned away. "Alright. I'll try."
She stood, closing the door behind her as she made her way to her house; it wasn't lost on her how Franz waited until her door was open before starting his car up again, making sure she got into her house alright. Turning to wave, she stepped back in alarm; it may have been a trick of the streetlamp, but just before he drove away it seemed his eyes were glowing red.
Chapter Eight
Gossip spread like wildfire through the halls of Chillhowie; those who hadn't been at the funeral were quickly told by everybody else how Mrs. Knight had lost it entirely at the funeral and had gone on a screaming rampage.
"It's stupid," Megan shook her head after Lena had told her what had happened. "She was upset; of course she's a mess. People should just shut up about her." Lena had to agree; calling a severely distraught woman a psycho witch taking things too far.
Now Lena reclined in what looked like a lawn chair, her eyes closed, in the center of the nurse's office. Mrs. Roundman was scrubbing at her right elbow crook with a rough sponge soaked in rubbing alcohol. Lena's skin tore open a little from the rapid motions from where it had been perforated with so many tiny holes, little dabs of blood slipping down her wrist.
She could hear more Donors, chatting or working on homework, or waiting in chairs like her for Mrs. Roundman to get to their arms. It was nearly an hour before school started and Lena felt as if she would drop with exhaustion.
She barely felt the sting as she was poked with the needle, being so used to it. She heard the steady clunk of the machine holding her blood bags as it tilted back and forth, mixing the blood so that it wouldn't congeal.
"Hey, all," Mrs. Roundman addressed the room. "Listen up. Most of you probably noticed Leslie Metcalf, Gabriel Metcalf's cousin. She's the only living female vampire in this world at this time."
Lena opened her eyes, interested. The nurse, also the head of the Donor's club, continued.
"There are 231 vampires in America at this time. There would be at least 300 more, but at the time the babies of the vampdrug were a complete mystery to their parents. About eighteen years ago, the mothers and fathers had no idea why their babies would cry constantly; steadily growing weaker and weaker no matter how much milk was fed to them. The infants would waste away completely and die in a matter of weeks, with the parents having no idea what was wrong."
Lena hadn't known this, and found it interesting. A glance around the other room told her most others were interested, too; Robert, in the chair next to her with a needle protruding from his arm, met her eyes.
"Then an anomaly occurred, one baby was born with several of her teeth. While being held by her father, she bit his hand and drank some of his blood. He was frightened by how long and sharp her tooth was, but felt so desperate about losing his only child that he allowed her to do this, noticing immediate improvements in her health. He didn't tell anybody about it, afraid she would be labeled a monster and killed, but he let her sip from him nightly."
Lena could picture it so clearly, an exhausted father with permanent stress lines between his eyes, trying to shield his darling daughter from the world, because he couldn't bear to let her come to harm. Afraid of her but loving her too much to tell his secret.
"And then his wife noticed the scars covering his h
ands and fingers," Mrs. Roundman continued. "She didn't say anything, but spied on her husband as he secretly held the girl; she saw her child's fangs extend, saw her bite and drink from her father, while he sat still and allowed it. Convinced she was going insane, the woman called the police, who came and took the baby, studying her.
"Certain similarities were drawn between this pale, sickly baby and those who had all died; after many blood tests, it was discovered that more and more of the babies born in that time were starved for blood. They needed it in their digestive system, and they needed it fairly often, or they would die."
Lena bit her lip, seeing where this story was going. She knew what happened next, and knew that it wasn't good.
"People were terrified. More infanticides occurred in America during that year than any other time, and not all of the babies killed were even vampires. If a baby looked ill or even just pale, they would be smothered in their cribs. But then, parents like that father fought back."
Some of the freshman Donors who had never heard this bit before gasped at the absolute horror of the thought, the darkest act committed by any human; the harming of a baby.
"Parents fought back tooth and nail. They may be vampires, but they were their vampires; their children. They would not allow panic-stricken people to harm their kids. Hundreds of appeals were sent to governors, insisting that vampires were just as human as any diabetic, cancerous, or otherwise afflicted person. Bills were passed, and although there was much resistance, vampires were by law accepted as any other special need's human in our society."
"But what does that have to do with Leslie?" Robert asked. Lena noticed that there were six bags attached to the tube in his arm, all being slowly filled. She had never seen more than two before; just how often did Leslie need the blood?
"Leslie?" Mrs. Roundman commented. "I'd think it would be obvious. She was the baby who bit her father. She is known in science as the first vampire; although she was not the first actual vampire born, she was the first to survive, the first to make her needs known. However, Leslie is not mentally stable. She was more or less raised in a laboratory, doctor's constantly running test after test after her. Forcing her to lift things and run to see how strong her body was, burning her and freezing her to see how she reacted, if she healed at all. Nobody but Leslie and the doctors really know everything that went on in those labs."
Lena's eyes grew wide; the doctors had tortured her, treated her worse than a lab animal? When she was just a child? It seemed unthinkable to her; she was horrified.
"Her father sued, bringing in the authorities just to get custody of his daughter back; but she was eight years old before he managed to do so. By then, she had gone a bit rogue. She didn't understand the world; in fact, she still thinks she is the world. As much as she was abused, the focus was always entirely on her. She is not used to people paying attention to anybody else. I'm afraid her mind will never return to what it was before she was discovered."
Robert looked at the bags hanging from his arm. "Then why does she need so much more blood than other vampires?"
"Her body was so in shock from the near constant pain and suffering that it gave out a little. To this day her cells are forever being damaged and need near-immediate replacement; she eats more food than normal people, too; up to nine thousand calories a day. Her body simply can't produce anything on its own, unlike the other vampires."
"And why is she the only girl vampire?" A small freshman asked, with eyes wide. Mrs. Roundman nodded her head gravely.
"Because all of the rest were killed, honey."
…
For once in his life, Gabriel actually managed to be in the promised spot, Hannah by his side like usual. She had barely plunged her hand into her icy cooler for his half-pint when he was grabbing at her elbow, shoving her hand aside and digging the blood out himself. Before she had a chance to say woah, his fangs were ripping at the plastic at the neck of the bag, slurping rapidly. She felt a little sick watching her blood disappear down the throat of Gabriel, and turned away.
Hannah, too, seemed a little alarmed.
"What's wrong with you?" she hissed, looking a little green. But Lena knew; he had not had blood in nearly a month, having given Leslie his last bag. He was starving.
Knowing what she had learned this morning, she couldn't find it in her to be angry at him. Instead, she turned around to walk away, her battered tennis shoes patting gently on the tile as she made her way to Elliot.
"Lena!" Gabriel gasped behind her, finally taking a breath. She turned to face him and winced, seeing his lower jaw smeared with red. He ran the back of his fist across his face, licking off the blood that had collected on it, and Lena felt her breakfast threaten to come back up.
"What is it?" she asked him impatiently.
"Thanks," he wheezed, already looking better than he had just moments before, color blooming in his pasty skin before her eyes.
Lena cocked her head. Does blood make one temporarily nutty? She had never heard him refer to her as anything but Blood Whore or Stupid Idiot before. And a simple thanks was practically unheard of. She smiled, enjoying it while it lasted.
"Thank you for saying thank you."
He grunted a much more Gabriel-esque answer as he mopped up his face. Grinning to herself, she left in search of her new friend.
Elliot's whole face when he saw Lena padding to the electives building, and he walked towards her to meet her halfway.
"You're early today!" Lena could have rolled her eyes. You could practically hear the smile in his voice.
"What; really hungry, are you?" she asked, dipping into the cooler for his "vitamins".
"Well, that," he agreed, taking the bag from her hands and discretely slipping it into his pocket. At least he doesn't chug it in front of me. "And I just wanted to see you."
Feeling something warm flutter its tiny wings in her chest, tickling her heart, Lena tried to squash it. Friends, remember? She demanded herself. Don't make this weird.
"Well, here I am!" she laughed uncomfortably, and he smiled, cheeks dimpling, before quickly slapping a hand over his mouth.
"Sorry! I know the fangs creep people out," he mumbled through his fingers. "Can't help it, though…"
Lena rolled her eyes. "Oh, please; I've been giving people my blood since I was thirteen. It's not like I've never seen a fang before."
"Well, in that case," Elliot removed his hand, bearing them in a fake snarl. Lena couldn't quell the small giggle, and inwardly smacking herself on the back of the head. Did you just giggle? Dear God. Give yourself an inch and admit to friendship and you turn into a fluffy cheerleader. Stop taking the mile.
"Well, it's time for class," she told him, not wanting to let any other fuzz-brained girliness slip out. "I need to go finish my pajamas."
"Lucky you," he grunted. "I have to go watch a video on animal parasites in agriculture. Oh, the irony."
As Lena waved and stepped into her classroom, she couldn't quell the giant smile that made her cheeks ache.
Chapter Nine
At six in the evening, it was already dark outside, the sky a mysterious navy blue. Stars sparkled from their positions, but not too many; the city lights prevented the majority from being seen. Breath puffing in the cold wind, Lena hustled from Robert's car to the thickly wooded door of Megan's house, her hood pulled tight over her ears.
Lena hammered tightly on the door with her fist (having pulled a fuzzy sock over her hand because she didn't have any gloves that fit, the pounding was muted somewhat.) After many long moments of shifting from foot to foot on the worn welcome doormat, the door finally flew open.
"Hi!" a cheerful Megan greeted. She was wearing dark sweatpants and a long-sleeved white turtleneck, and she currently had a miniature clone of herself clinging to her back.
"Hi Megan, hi Sarah," Lena greeted. The moppet piggybacking on her older sister glared, sticking her tongue out. "I'm not Sarah, I'm Georgia!" the child complained.
"Whateve
r, let me in before my toes fall off!" Lena insisted. "It's cold!"
Megan laughed. "Ok, ok!" she waved in the general direction of the Chevy, and Robert shut it off, shuffling into Megan's house.
"Did you make Lena brave the cold all by herself so that you could stay in the warm truck?" Megan scolded Robert. "Bad giant!"
Georgia squealed at the sight of her idol, holding her arms out and nearly falling off Megan's back. Robert caught her in his huge hands, swinging the five-year-old up and over his shoulders until she gripped his hair, her bare feet dangling onto his chest. She laughed.
"Don't drop her!" Megan insisted sternly, "and don't let her head hit the ceiling or doorways again. I don't get paid by my parents if any of the kids need stitches."
Georgia's twin scampered towards them as her sister shut the door, inviting her friends into the house. "Hold me, too! Hold me, too!" Sarah squealed, jumping up and down with her arms extended. Robert laughed as he hoisted the girl up into his arms, carrying her princess- style while clinging onto one of Georgia's skinny ankles, not letting her fall off his neck.
"Where's Peter?" Lena asked, looking around for Megan's brother.
"He's sleeping over at its friend's house. Tonight it's just the twins and Jared."
A loud barking started up, a white fuzzy blur skittering across the floor to launch itself at Lena's feet.
"Biscuit!" Lena grinned. She lifted the Maltese underneath her arm, where he wagged his tail into her armpit. She couldn't help but giggle at his fluffy tickling, and his tiny tongue shot out to kiss her face rapidly.
Megan's parents had gone on a trip to a romantic mountain lodge for their anniversary, leaving Megan to babysit over the weekend after promising to pay her for looking after her siblings. Though she often babysat, three days in a row was definitely more than her usual work, and Lena and Robert had promised to visit to keep her from losing her marbles.
Bag of Blood - Vampire Mystery Romance Page 5
