by A. M. Hudson
David bolted ahead, leaving the front door open, but by the time I made it to the hall, he’d slammed Emily’s door shut—locking me out. “Let me in,” I yelled, slapping the wood. “David! Let me in!”
“Let me see,” I heard David say. “Shit. Just move. Move!”
“Mike? David?” I kicked at the door, shoving it with my shoulder. Damn it, David.
It flung open suddenly, leaving my fist falling through the absent air, landing hard on Mike’s chest as he folded forward, his bloodied face a mess, unrecognisable. He fell into my shoulder, limp, heavy; my knees buckled. “David.” Help me.
David appeared, pressed his palms to Mike’s chest and bumped me away with his hip. “Stand back, Ara,” he said, and with the ease of lifting a pillow, flipped the limp giant over his shoulder.
“What happened to him?” I asked. “Why’s his face bleeding?”
David looked back at me. “Come with me.”
“No. Why?”
“Ara—” He edged between Mike and Emily’s rooms. “Just...just don’t go in there, okay.”
I nodded, waited for him to disappear into Mike’s room, then stepped through the doorway anyway; my hand flew to my mouth. “Emily!”
“Ara?” she cried from a dark corner near her wardrobe, huddled into a ball on the floor. “What did he do to me?”
“Ara—don’t!” David called from the other room as I flew into Emily’s arms. She grabbed my shirt, clutching for dear life, pulling her shaking body close to my chest.
“Emily?” David grabbed her wrist, coming up out of nowhere. “Let go of her, now.”
“Don’t let him touch me, Ara!” she screeched, kicking at the ground with her feet. “Please don’t let him hurt me again.”
“What did you do to her?” I shoved his hand away.
“I’m sorry, Em.” He squatted beside us and gently unlatched her fingers from my shirt. “I had to forcibly restrain her. She had her hands around Mike’s throat.”
“Oh my God. Mike! Is he okay?” My pulse quickened, I looked to the door.
“No.”
I covered my mouth.
“She didn’t bite him—just...”
“I thought he was trying to hurt me, Ara,” Emily cut in, her eyes pleading. “I scratched him.”
Scratched? “David?” I swallowed over a deep breath, making a huge lump form in my throat. “Is it bad?”
He concentrated on untangling Emily’s fingers from my shirt. “I’ve forced him to drink some blood. It’s all I can do.”
“Ah—” Emily’s voice wavered nervously, her terror-widened eyes locked onto her outstretched arms. “David, what’s happening to me? Ah!” She shot back, thrashed violently into the wall, scratching at her arms.
David slid his hands around my waist and shifted me across so he could grab her. “Ara, go, please.”
“No. What’s happening to her?” I stood back, but every-thing in me screamed to run to Emily, to hold her as she writhed, thrashing about, tearing at her arms where the veins pulsed and wriggled under her skin, turning bright blue, then white, with every scream that passed her lips.
“Make it stop! Make it stop!”
David clasped a firm hand across her mouth. “Emily. Shush. You’ll make the neighbours call the police.”
“Er—” She twitched, her throat composing a long, wavering sound. “I’m trying, David. I’m trying.”
“I know,” he said.
“What did he do to me?” she growled in a very low, very cold voice, her gaze becoming fixed on my vampire, hatred and something so demonic behind it that I stepped back.
“It’s okay, Emily.” David lifted her and carried her to the bed. “You’re turning. In a few minutes, it’ll stop—then...”
“Then what?” I asked, restraining from placing hands of healing on Emily. Nothing I did would make it better.
David looked back at me with urgency in his eyes, pinning Emily down with a hand on her chest. “Then, she’ll be thirsty.”
“For blood?”
“Ara, you better get out of here.”
The world stopped; the only sound I heard was my own very quiet breath and the beating of my heart.
“Ara,” David said more forcefully, wincing slightly as Emily gouged at the flesh on his forearm. “Go to Mike. He needs you.”
“No. I’m staying with you. David, look what she’s doing to your arm.”
He looked down; the deep gashes started to prick with blood, the skin around the edges folding outward where it was still attached.
Emily kicked, screaming and wailing—attempting to toss about, but unable to move under the force of David’s strong hold.
“I’ll be fine, Ara.”
“You don’t look fine.” I edged forward. “She’s hurting you.”
He held out his other hand, stopping me. “I won’t lie, okay, yes, it hurts, but not as much as loosing you. Okay. Just go. Go!”
Everything in me said stay, but, as if on cue, Mike groaned, his voice laden with so much agony that I almost didn’t even look back as I ran from the room. All I could think of was the time his appendix burst and I first saw him cry; it was the worst night of my childhood. I thought he was going to die. I’d never heard anyone cry that way. But this was worse. Much, much worse.
Almost as fast as a vampire, I made it to his side. “Mike? Are you okay?”
“Oh. God. Just go.” He rolled his face to the wall.
“No, I’m not going anywhere.” I lifted his head and shoved his pillow under it—afraid to look at his face. “Just tell me what to do, Mike, please. How can I make it better?”
“You can’t,” he said slowly, his voice trailing off. “Not you.”
“Mike?”
He didn’t answer.
“Mike?” I whispered.
His laboured breathing became deep and restful; I sat back against the wall, sinking my head into my hands as the morning sun lit the room. I felt unwelcome, in a place I’d sat so many times, talking and joking with him. In one week of my life, I’d managed to destroy so many lives. How on earth was I so cursed that I could alienate people so fiercely, not only losing them, but making sure they would run so far from me that I’d never even see them pass on the street, ever again?
I wanted to lay with Mike, safe in his arms, safe, knowing he loved me. But the cold floor, hard under my tailbone, and the wall, no comfort for my aching heart, reminded me that this is where I belonged. Love, warmth, they belonged to people who deserved them. But I destroyed Emily, and I broke Mike’s heart. If he could ever forgive me for that, I’d still have no hope of saving our friendship, because I knew how much Mike hated vampires, and I knew, from everything he’d ever told me, that he would not forgive me for turning the girl he loves into one.
When the morning comes, I don’t know what I’ll do. What will my life mean, what will anything mean if I have no one left?
I sunk my head back down on my knees, letting the restful breath of my ex-best friend take me away with exhaustion.
At some point, just before I was about to fall onto my side, cool arms wrapped my body and carried me to the softness of my bed, where I stayed until morning came, safe and warm, in David’s loving arms.
Chapter 11
Some dreams belong to hope, some to summaries of the day, and others to the fears we hide from ourselves.
Ever since Emily woke that morning to find she’d made a textbook transition from a beautiful, bubbly human, to a heartless but perfect vampire, she’s been crying; she looked in the mirror, her face flawless, her eyes radiant, more vibrant than before, and cried.
For Emily, she’s living a nightmare, one that, for me, would now be a dream.
“Here.” David placed a pile of very neatly folded clothes on the end of my bed. “I’m not sure which drawers you want these in.”
“Just chuck them on the floor with the rest—that’s where they’ll end up, anyway.”
But he didn’t. Instead, he opened ran
dom drawers and placed the clothes in spaces they didn’t belong, and somehow, that was more annoying than the fact that he’d done my washing in the first place.
“Aren’t you supposed to magically know where all my stuff goes? That would be so much more romantic.”
“Hm.” He placed his duffle bag on the dresser and packed his clean laundry into it—despite me telling him yesterday to take a few of my drawers for himself. “You’re right. I should pry through your stuff more often.”
“Yes.” I rolled onto my side. “You should.”
“Very well. I shall begin prying this afternoon.” He landed beside me, his forearm tucked under his cheek. “Mike’s looking better. He won’t scar at least.”
“That’s good,” I muttered.
“And I have some interesting news.” He either didn’t notice the gloom in my tone, or chose to counteract it with a radiant kind of positivity in his own.
I propped my head on the ball of my palm and looked down into his sparkling green eyes, brighter in the midday sun. “Okay, what’s the news?”
“I’m not sure why, but I can still hear Emily’s thoughts.”
“Really? I bet she’s peeved off.”
“Yes.” David seemed to be laughing—to himself.
“Is that because she’s not full strength yet?”
He shook his head, still grinning. “It’s been two days; she’s full strength. I think it’s because, when a vampire changes a human, they have a connection. Maybe because Jason and I are twins—”
“How did he do it? Change her, I mean.” I sat up and tugged my floral-print skirt down over my legs where it rode up while I was laying. “I thought it wasn’t as simple as just biting? Like, I mean, what did he do different to her that hasn’t worked on other people you’ve tried to change?”
“Other people? Or do you mean you?” he asked, with a soft smile.
I shrugged.
“Sweetheart.” David sat up, too. “I wish I knew, but being on the council doesn’t give you automatic rights to that knowledge.”
“But you must have some idea, I mean, you tried to change Rochelle?”
“Yes. I thought I knew what I was doing, and there’s no saying I did it wrong. She died because she was with child, Ara, but I’m not willing to test my theories on you.”
Of course not. Why risk anything for me? “So, how did Jason get the knowledge then, if even a council member couldn’t?”
“I’m not sure.”
I dropped my head, my whole posture slumping.
“Are you wondering if there might still be hope—if maybe he got something wrong when he tried to turn you?”
One shoulder pulled to my ear and I half smiled.
“Look, Ara, I know how this feels.” David delicately tilted my chin until I looked into his eyes. “I know you always wondered why Emily and I never fell in love, and now she’s immortal, it makes you feel more alone—cements your already ludicrous notion that Emily would’ve been better for me.”
“So you can read my mind today, huh?”
“No, sweetheart. I just know you too well.”
I smiled, wrapping my fingers around his to pull them from my cheek. “I like it that you know what I’m thinking—without me having to think it.”
“Me too.”
“David?” Emily popped her head in the door.
“Yeah, Em?” He drew his eyes away from me slowly, not in any real hurry to look at her.
“Um, I think Mike might be packing. I heard his suitcase being zipped up.”
David looked at me; my lip quivered and my nose stung with the rise of tears in my eyes. “Okay, thanks, Em. I’ll go see to him.”
She wandered away without another word.
“He hasn’t seen her yet, has he?” I asked.
“No.”
“Is he...is he still mad with me?”
After a deep breath, swallowing the words he was going to say, he nodded. “He’s just tired, sweetheart.”
“No.” My voice broke. “He hates me.”
“No, he hates vampires. He’s hurting, Ara. Give it time, he—”
I shook my head and leaped off the bed. “I have to talk to him.”
“Wait.” David grabbed my wrist before I made it to the door. “You can’t go in there yet.”
“Why?”
“He might—” His fingers tightened around my wrist. “He might hurt you.”
“David?” I looked at him, disgusted. “It’s Mike—he’d never hurt me.”
With his eyes closed tight, he dropped his face into the breath he exhaled. “I’m not so sure about that anymore, Ara.”
“I can handle myself.” I broke from his grip and walked away.
“Your stubbornness will get you in trouble one day,” he called; I ignored him, walking a little faster in case he saw fit to stop me. But how could there be any danger in talking to my best friend, my Mike, the man who loves me no matter what I do?
He may be mad, but surely he wouldn’t go as far as to actually hurt me.
Leave and never come back, maybe, but not hurt me.
“Mike?” I softly tapped on his door, pushing it open. “You awake?”
Under the darkness provided by his drawn black curtains, I saw only his silhouette look up at me from the edge of the bed. He stood when I walked in, and stepped away from me. “Get out. I have nothing to say to you.”
“Why is your suitcase by the door?” I toed it.
“Because I’m leaving,” he said, turning to open his drawer. “I’m packing my things, and as soon as I look human again, I’m out of this godforsaken place.”
“Mike, it isn’t that bad.” I closed the door, lowering my voice. “Emily’s still alive.”
“Alive?” He spun around quickly, catching me off guard. “Alive? You call that alive?”
“Yes. It’s not like movies, Mike. Vampires aren’t the undead. They live, breathe, feel. She has a goddamn soul, Mike. And she can hear everything you’re saying.”
“Good.” He unfolded his arms and shoved past me to grab his suitcase.
“Stop that.” I pushed his hand away from it. “Stop packing.”
“Ara, go away. I’m warning you.”
“Or what?” I stood with my hands on my hips, defensive. “You’ll hurt me, push me, leave? What more can you do, Mike? My life is ruined, don’t you get it? You can’t make it any worse, and if you leave, if you go, I won’t recover from that.”
“See if I care, Ara. I’m done. I can’t take any more of you.”
A tight heat choked in the back of my throat. I swallowed hard. “Mike—please. What about Em? She loves…”
“What happened to her was unfair. But she’s as good as dead to me now.” He swiped the air with his hand, then turned back to his drawer.
“No. You don’t mean that. I saw how you cried for her.”
“I cried for you, too!” He lashed out and grabbed my hand, shoving it off his arm. “I cried for you when you died. I shoulda left then. I shoulda gone away and gotten on with my life.”
“Mike? Look at me. Mike?” I stepped toward him again. “You don’t mean that. You’re not yourself, you’re—”
“I’m tired of you!” He spun around so fast, knocking my touch from his skin again, that I stumbled back, finding my footing against the wall in time for him to stomp toward me, grab both arms in his iron grip and pin me there. “I want you to stay away from me, Ara. When I leave, when I finally escape this hell I’ve been stuck in, I never want to see you, or your vampire friends, ever again. Do I make myself clear?”
Stammering breaths huffed from the back of my throat as I stood under his grip, my mouth agape.
“Answer me!” He shook me.
“Mm-hm.” I nodded, unable to lift my hand to wipe the tear from my upper lip. His fingers tightened around my arms, almost twice wrapping, his eyes forcing the message a little deeper. And for a moment, I thought I saw a twinge of regret wash across his face, but it was quickly
recovered, lost to the seething anger that transformed my loving friend into a fiend—a seething anger that I put there.
As he turned away, I bolted from the room, dodging the extended hand of David as I passed him in the corridor. There’s no hope now. I have to go. I have to leave. I have to run.
No one followed me, no one saw, or no one cared, that I grabbed my keys and slammed the front door behind me.
The burst of fresh air and warm, golden sun outside circulated my broken heart, making me feel silly for crying when everything out here, everything real, was all right, normal. All those people across the road, swimming and playing by the lake, had friends, family, had nothing to ever fear or lose.
I hated them all. I hated everyone, everything; the birds, the trees, even the cool breeze. He’s leaving. I squatted down and hid my head in my arms. I hurt him so bad he’s leaving. Oh God. What will I do without him? What will Emily do? She loves him. She loves him so much. This will destroy her worse than being made immortal.
Now, she’ll be immortal, alone.
I looked up, feeling closed in, suffocated by all the people around. I needed to be alone. Somewhere no one would think to look.
I jumped in the car and, with the wind blowing my tangled hair around my face, sped down the street, fleeing the confines of my shattered life.
Leaving my shoes, my keys and my purse in the car was probably a bad idea, but the once familiar feeling of home was calling to me, luring me toward the trees so intensely I never even thought to lock the doors. I needed to get there, needed to get there fast.
Flipping my hair off my neck, I let my shoulders breathe the cool, near-autumn air. Out here, under the shade of the oaks and maples, my heartache was always easier to bear.
I couldn’t stop him from packing his suitcase, couldn’t make him stay. And now, I understood how Mum felt when Dad left, how he zipped up his few belongings into a bag, kissed me on the forehead and said I’m sorry, then walked away and never came back. She had no power stop him, just like I have no right to stop Mike; he wouldn’t even stay now if I offered him my heart—offered to be with him after David left. He was done with me—done with all the pain I caused him.
