Bag of Blood - Vampire Mystery Romance

by J. O. Osbourne

  Vanessa paused to think. Still cradling her sister, she made a decision.

  "How about this; you make more of an effort with your grades and chores, and we'll do stuff together. You've gotta show me some good scores or something, and we'll catch a movie or do lunch. It won't be the same as with mom, but it'll be nice, you know, girl-time." At Lena's surprised face, Vanessa shook her head.

  "I miss mom, too, you know," the young adult said sadly. "Do you think you can do that? Try harder?"

  Lena nodded rapidly, unable to speak in fear that she'd start blubbering again.

  "Does it scare you that those girls died?" Vanessa asked gently. Lena nodded again.

  "I talked to Rebekah less than half an hour before she was killed. It could have been anybody. And that lady, Valarie? She was killed so close to our house; Megan and I could actually hear the party she was at; it was so loud, and she was so close. And it's probably somebody I know that's doing the killing, one of the vampires from school…!"

  Vanessa bit her lip, alarm in her eyes. "I had no idea…" she murmured gently. "Lena, do you need to see a counselor or a therapist? Things like that can get in your head, burrow down and make you scared. "

  "I'd rather just talk to you," Lena whispered, feeling embarrassed. Vanessa's eyes widened in surprise, and then softened. "Tell me about it, then," she said.

  "I'm afraid. It could be Leslie, this psycho vampire who just moved into town. But what if it's Gabriel, or Myles, or Carlos, or Quentin, or…!" Or Heaven forbid, Elliot. "It could be any of them," Lena finally finished after a long pause.

  "You know," Vanessa sighed, looking tired, "you just need to keep your head down until this is over. Stay with your crowd; don't go wandering with people. And…" stuffing a hand into her bag, Vanessa snatched a small plastic item out.

  "You are going to take my taser with you wherever you go. Got it? And I do mean wherever. The bathroom, school, your bedroom… I'm not trying to cultivate paranoia, but it's something I need you do."

  Lena gasped at this. "You want me to take a weapon to school?" although she saw the wisdom in it, considering where Rebekah got killed… "If I get caught with a weapon at school I can get kicked out."

  "So don't get caught," Vanessa smiled conspiratorially. Sobering up, she added, "No, seriously; I don't want you to get in trouble at school, but I'd rather that happen then something happen to my sis! Come on, I'll show you how to use it…"

  …

  Lena felt incredibly nervous as she slid into the blue Chevy the next morning. The extra weight in her purse bumping against her leg merely served to make her even more uncomfortable. She stared at the seats as she settled herself. Robert's mom was lying on these seats last night after we almost ran her over… she mused, stressed, as she saw Robert's blue eyes studying her in the mirror. She looked away.

  It was certainly a tighter fit in the truck than usual, jammed between Jared's car seat and Peter. Georgia and Sarah were crammed in the back with Peter's backpack, and Megan sat in the front beside Robert. Lena noticed how Robert's fingers curled sweetly over Megan's small hand.

  Jared burbled sleepily in his carseat, and to abate the discomfited feelings settling in her chest, she leaned over to smile at him.

  "Hi, honey!" she cooed. He smiled, blowing saliva bubbles at her.

  "Ready to go?" Robert asked his truck-full of people. "Yeah!" the kids all chorused. Megan smiled at Robert, her dimple once again popping, and he grinned. Pulling from Lena's driveway, the Chevy rumbled loudly down the drive.

  Howie didn’t look too happy to have a restaurant full of hyper children running around so early on a Saturday morning, but sighed and accepted it, as he always did. Settling them in a booth way in the back, the kids began to order massive piles of pancakes and hash browns. Megan sighed, but remembered the hearty discount children received. Poking through her wallet, she sighed in relief.

  They were just tucking into their meal, when Lena's phone jangled. She shuffled through her purse, bumping her Taser with her wrist as she did so, and held it to her ear.

  "Hello?"

  Vanessa's voice rang out clearly through the crackly static.

  "Lena; you need to come home now. It's dad."

  Chapter Eleven

  Robert hustled Lena into his truck, speeding out of the restaurant's parking lot on the way to the hospital. She sat in the front seat, wringing her hands in her lap.

  "You sure this is ok, Robert?" Lena bit her lip. "I already ordered, so my food'll be on the bill." She rifled through her wallet, pulling out a few bills and tucking them into her friend's shirt pocket. "Have them box it up; save it for me and bring it to me on Monday, ok?"

  Robert nodded. "Fine, whatever. Did Vanessa say what was up with your dad?"

  "No," Lena replied, gnawing on what remained of her thumbnail. "Just said 'something was wrong' and the ambulance came to the house to take him to the hospital. She got a call from work and is leaving as soon as possible; we'll probably beat her there."

  Robert grunted, eyes on the road as they always were. He was, after all, a very careful driver.

  "Robert…" Lena began, not sure how to start what she wanted to say. He stiffened, already guessing what was on her mind. "Yesterday, with your mother…"

  He opened his mouth to protest, but Lena cut him off. "I promise; I won't tell anybody! I just wanted to talk it over with you." This seemed to shut him up, so Lena continued.

  "How long has this been going on?" she asked. "I mean," she struggled to keep her tone gentle, not wanting to give the impression of being mocking or unsympathetic. "We know she's been drinking… a lot… for a while now. But when did it get so out of hand?"

  Robert sighed, running a hand down his face. "Isn't it obvious?" he laughed bitterly. "Since dad died."

  "Oh." Robert's father had died six years ago. "That long?"

  "Well, it started out as barely noticeable. But by the time she met Ray, it was already noticeable. It actually got worse after she married him; no matter how much she said she 'adored' him, he still wasn't dad. Maybe she thought that if she drank more, she'd become dad ." Lena gazed at her friend, her eyes large and sad behind her glasses.

  "Don't look at me like that!" he boomed, and then caught himself. "Sorry, Lena. I'm used to it, really. Must seem pretty stupid, huh; Oh, I'm gonna marry a guy I don't really like to fill the void, and then to forget that he isn't the man I love, I'm going to destroy my liver."

  Lena shook her head. "Your mother must have loved your father very much." Her memories of Robert's father were foggy, at best; a giant ox of a man with a crooked smile and a loud laugh. She remembered, as a child of about eight years old, falling asleep on Robert's sofa watching cartoons, only to be shaken awake by his dinner plate sized hand.

  "Come on, hun," he had whispered. "Are you staying for dinner, or do you need me to give you a ride home?"

  Of course she had chosen to stay, the offer of sizzling stakes on the outdoors grill being too tempting to resist.

  "Stick with Robert, willya?" he asked, winking, as he prodded the large hunks of steak with a long-handled fork. "He needs a friend like you." Being eight, she had merely nodded, not fully understanding.

  "So, was last night the first time she's gone wandering?" Lena asked, gripping the seat as Robert made a sharp left turn.

  "No." He grunted, glancing at Lena's stomach. "How are you, by the way? You hit the dashboard pretty hard; I heard a crunch." Lena shrugged, not wanting to mention the large purple bruises.

  "You're changing the subject," she accused. "Please tell me; I love you."

  He stared at her when she said this. "What?"

  "I said I love you!" Lena insisted. "You've been my closest friend since I was a little kid. My oldest friend. I just want you to be happy."

  "But Megan—" Robert began, confused.

  "Go out with Megan, date her, kiss her, whatever! There are different kinds of love, you know. I don't love you like that. But make her cry and I may have
to kill you; she's my friend too, you know." Lena grinned; Robert did not.

  "Fine. Love you, too, Lena." he grunted. "Alright; I'll tell you. No, she's gotten out of the house completely hammered a few times before, but I've always been there to drag her in before Ray or Claire notice."

  "What if you don't notice, Robert?" Lena countered. "What if you're not there? What if it's someone else's car on the street, and if he or she doesn't hit the breaks in time? Do you want to lose your mother as well as your father?"

  Robert whirled on Lena. "Shut up!" he spat. "What the hell do you know about it?"

  "I know I might be losing my father right now!" she retorted, not backing down out of his face. "And if I could do anything to stop it, I would! So stop being selfish and save your mother!" she hadn't realized that she was screaming until she stopped speaking; the silence echoed loudly in the truck.

  "What am I supposed to do, Lena?" Robert's voice was hoarse, desperate, when he finally spoke. "Have her locked up in some home? Turn my own mother in?"

  "It's your decision to make, Robert," Lena said quietly, noticing how Robert's forehead was wrinkling, his eyes more damp than usual. After what felt like an achingly long moment of silence, they finally pulled up to the hospital.

  "Do you want me to come in with you?" Robert asked softly as she slid out of the truck.

  "No," Lena replied, trying for a smile. "Go! Rescue your lady love from the horrors of being stranded at a nice restaurant."

  He waved as he pulled from the parking lot. "Text me once you know stuff," he told her before heading back to where he came from.

  The loud pattering of heels approached Lena as she pushed open the glassy hospital doors, glancing around for an elevator. She knew who it was long before a body slammed into hers from behind as her sister tried—and failed—to skid to a stop on the slippery linoleum.

  "Lena!" Vanessa panted. "Come on; he's on the fourth floor."

  Vanessa, following texted instructions from their mother, led the two of them to an upstairs lobby where their mother paced nervously.

  "Girls," she breathed, hurrying to hug her daughters. Lena breathed in the familiar scent of her mother; clean soap with a tinge of bleach. Her mother rocked them side to side for a moment.

  "So, what happened?" Vanessa finally managed to ask.

  "He was walking out of the bathroom when he collapsed," their mother explained. "Said he could barely move; it was like fire shooting all over his body. Luckily he had his phone in his pocket and called the police before passing out; he didn't even say anything to the operator, he was already out. The ambulance brought him straight here."

  Lena was chilled to the core by this news. She squeezed her sister's hand tightly. "What was it?" she asked, suddenly feeling a lot younger than her sixteen years.

  "A heart attack. Of course." Their mother began walking, beckoning for her daughters to follow. "Of course," she muttered again to herself. Lena hastened to keep stride with her.

  "What's going to happen, mom?" she asked, trying to keep the rising panic from her voice.

  "They're going to perform the surgery earlier. It's riskier, now, but it's even riskier not to."

  "Risky how?" Lena was unable to help the rising in her pitch, causing her voice to squeak.

  "Lena, shh!" Vanessa chided, wearing a don't upset mom more, look on her face, but Lena was powerless to stop herself from demanding an answer.

  "Risky how?"

  "His heart is already damaged from the attack!" her mother explained, upset. "You don't think surgery won't screw him up more?"

  Without waiting for an answer, she held a door open for the girls, and without looking around, Lena hastened inside. There, behind a curtain, resting in a comfortable-looking chair beside a bed, sat her father. His eyes were closed, a tube leading from a needle in his arm to an IV drip filled with clear liquid.

  Lena approached him softly. "Daddy…?"

  Vanessa pulled her back. "Don't touch him until after the hand sanitizer," she insisted bossily, grabbing the room's supply of it and pumping a generous amount onto her hands. Numbly, Lena rubbed her hands and arms with the stuff, liberally coating them before once again hurrying to her dad's side. He opened his eyes.

  "Hey, baby," he turned up the right side of his mouth in a sloppy grin. "How’s my girl?"

  Lena couldn't even open her mouth, fearing that all that would emerge would be a sob. Instead, she took his hands in hers. He looked around slowly.

  "Oh, it's all my girls," he acknowledged his family. "That's good, real good. I love my girls."

  Vanessa sat on the edge of the hospital bed. "When is his surgery scheduled?" she asked their mother.

  "Tomorrow," their mother replied. For the first time, Lena noticed the bags that ringed her mother's hazel eyes, the pallor of her skin. "He'll be in the hospital for at least two weeks afterwards, probably three."

  "He'll miss Thanksgiving," Lena commented, her voice having lost all inflection, reverting back into herself like a turtle into its shell. "He loves Thanksgiving." Their father seemed too far gone on pain medications to do anything but smile benignly at his family.

  "There won't be any more Thanksgivings, not for us, if you want your father to live!" Mrs. Thresh shot back angrily. "You want to give him another heart attack? Stuff him full of carbs until his heart gives up?"

  Lena shook her head miserably. "No," she whispered. Her father touched her face.

  "Don't be so sad, baby," he murmured. "I love you, and I love 'Ness, and I love your mom. And you love me, right? So what else matters?" the doped-out slur of his voice was almost too much to bear.

  "I do love you," Lena whispered. "I love you so much."

  Chapter Twelve

  School seemed to go by at an slow agonizing pace with the constant worry of her father on her mind. Trying to keep her promise to Vanessa in mind to do better, she diligently wrote down most of what her teachers said in various notebooks. Still, looking back at her words, she shook her head. Most of it didn't make a lick of sense in hindsight.

  "Megan," she groaned during her lunch period, feeling too grumpy to eat. "Will you help me do my essay for Psychology?" She flopped her face down on the picnic table in a dramatic display of moodiness. Gripping her by the hair on the back of her head, Megan pulled Lena's head back up.

  "Stop that. You'll probably get E Coli from the table or something," her friend teased. "If that's possible, you'll find a way to do it. And yes, I'll help you if you give me one of your mini-chimichangas."

  Gratefully, Lena pushed her plate towards her friend. "Have all three of them!" she made sure to snatch the brownie from the edge of the plate up before Megan had a chance to grab it; no matter how frustrated she felt, there wouldn't be a chance she'd miss a brownie. Megan made a face, but cheerfully dunked the fried treat into the small cup of salsa and bit off the end of it.

  "Mmm. Unhealthy goodness," she grinned.

  "What's this about E Coli?" Elliot asked, tentatively seating himself at the table as if not entirely certain he would be welcome.

  "Oh," Megan smiled at him, not dimpling nearly as much as she did for Robert, but the dimple was prevalent nonetheless. "Lena is being filled with dark and dramatic angst today." Her teasing rubbed Lena the wrong way, and she puffed out her cheeks in what was probably a very childish pout.

  "I'm just too dumb to do my homework, is all," she groused, not really wanting to go into her dad-issues with Elliot listening.

  "Can I see it?" Elliot held a hand out over his overflowing plate of lasagna. Lena reluctantly handed over what was supposed to be her Physics notebook, and he flipped to today's notes, helpfully categorized by the dates they were written. He poured over her neat handwriting with his brows slowly growing more and more furrowed.

  "You seem to be mixing your Physics notes with your Geometry notes," he commented, his voice remaining polite though sounding a bit incredulous.

  "What?" snatching the book from him, she poured over her own word
s. Son of a… "You're right," she finally commented. "I guess that explains why the homework was so confusing." Pulling her assignment from her bag, she poured over it with the new information in mind. Hmm… it does make more sense this way, she realized, her cheeks heating with embarrassment over her own carelessness.

  "If you're having homework troubles," Elliot began carefully, trying to look nonchalant by carving his lasagna into tidy little piles, but his tone revealing how he was dancing over eggshells. "I can help you. I'm good at math and science."

  Megan ducked her head and took a huge bite of Lena's lunch to hide her glowing smirk.

  "We can stay at the school library; they don't close until about an hour after school ends. Or… we could go to my house? I have a little sister, but she's pretty good about staying quiet during homework time if I promise to play with her later. Or if you wanted to go to your house?"

  Lena stared at him for a long moment, her eyes wide. Slowly, as if registering his words, her cheeks went from pale pink to a scorching red. Megan couldn't conceal her snort of laughter but tried to pass it off as a choking cough. Tears streamed from her brown eyes as she tried to cover her obviously intense amusement at the situation.

  Misinterpreting Lena's silence, Franz quickly busied himself with his lasagna. "Yeah, it was a dumb idea. Sorry."

  Megan shoved her elbow painfully in Lena's ribs, unknowingly hitting directly on the bruise she had caught from Robert's hasty car-breaking. "Ow!" she hissed sharply through her teeth. The pain cleared her mind, and she made a decision.

  "That would be fine," she told Elliot. "If you really want to help me, I would appreciate it a lot. When would be a good time for you?"

  Elliot's startlingly green gaze shot back to Lena's face, his features lighting up like the fourth of July. "Really? Um, anytime…" he paused to think. "Today would be alright, but my mom has school and needs me to babysit my sister. You would have to come to my house, but if you don't want to, that's ok! Maybe you'd like the library better after all…"