“He was worried you wouldn’t make it. He’ll be so glad to hear that you did.”
Again that warm smile.
I manage a nod, but I can’t speak. God, my emotions are all over the place tonight. But I’ll be damned if I cry in front of this guy.
He gives me a long quiet moment to compose myself then he says, “You really should eat. Your body is healing.”
“Right and you’re just sitting there with a tube in your arm while I blabber on. God, I’m sorry.”
He’s grinning again. That kind of grin I recognize. “I like listening to you talk.”
I take one more look at the blood tube in my hand, and he closes his eyes again.
“Bottoms up,” I whisper.
“If you insist,” he says. “Though I don’t think that’s the best position for this.”
And I snort and take the tip of the tube into my mouth, removing the cap with my teeth. Hot blood hits my tongue and I swoon. The world around me fades to black, and all I can think about is his warm, delicious elixir. The heat fills me up from head to toe. It isn’t unlike that first flush of heat that one gets when taking a tequila shot. A full body experience that shivers along the skin, muscles and bone.
Then it’s over and I open my eyes to find the tube in my hand is dry, a red tinge coloring it.
Dr. Grange is smiling at me, pulling the empty tube from my hand. “How do you feel?”
I look over at Aiden, and he has a sleepy smile on his face. The tube has been removed from his arm and he’s pressing a cotton ball to the puncture.
“I’m okay,” he says.
“How hungry do you feel?” Dr. Grange says again. There’s a little more force to her voice this time.
I do a mental inventory. “My hunger has gone down to 3,” I tell her. “And I feel warmer. A little hyper. Kind of like I’ve had too much sugar. I actually feel like my skin is crawling.”
“It’s the healing,” she assures me. “You look perfect, but there may be some internal stitching.”
I look at Aiden who smiles. “Don’t worry. It was good for me, too.”
I press my lips together hard, so I don’t smile.
“Injured vampires have difficulty with stopping,” Dr. Grange says. “It’s what makes them dangerous. Their hunger spikes to account for their physical needs and that demand is almost impossible to control. Add in their fear and adrenaline and they can easily hurt their donors. But you were perfectly civilized.”
I’ve never received a compliment quite like this in my life. I try to imagine my mother saying, you were perfectly civilized.
“Do you need more?” she asks. She catches my nervous glance at Aiden. “No, he won’t be donating anymore tonight. They have strict guidelines as to how much a single donor can provide in the hospital. And while he may have his own preferences outside of the hospital, inside he must abide by the rules.”
Aiden is laughing. “You sound like you don’t trust me, Dr. Grange.”
She doesn’t answer him.
“I’m fine,” I say. I am a little hungry, but the idea of meeting someone new and going through the entire awkward process again is too much. And if I’m being honest, I’m hoping Aiden will have an excuse to linger if no one else comes in.
Dr. Grange tilts her head back in a strange gesture. Then she says, “I should be going.”
“I’ll sit with her until the sun rises,” Aiden says, as if reading the question on her face.
She nods, then to me she says. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Just rest and try to relax, all right? I’ll be back tomorrow night.”
Then Dr. Grange exits the hospital room, leaving me alone with Aiden. I dare to glance over and see him frowning at the door.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I worry about her,” he says. “She’s got to be in a lot of pain right now.”
“Why?”
“Dr. Grange and Josephine were together for a long time.” He presses the call button on the side of my bed.
“Together together?”
“Yeah.”
A nurse appears, poking his head into the doorway. He smiles when he spots Aiden. “Hey, man.”
“Hey.” They do a handshake of sorts. “Can I get a donor tray?”
“Sure. I’ll be right back.”
“Do you know everyone in this town,” I ask.
He laughs. “We moved here when I was ten. And I’ve been donating for about ten years, ever since I could legally.”
I must look confused.
“You’ve got to be eighteen. They don’t allow minors to do so.”
“What made you want to donate?” I ask.
The nurse entering the room with the food says, “He’s here for the free food. This boy can eat.”
Aiden laughs good-naturedly about the tease.
The nurse asks if I need anything, and I thank him but say no. I have no idea if I can even eat human food or drink water. I feel like the answers must be no, but I don’t want to assume.
Aiden is tearing open his wrapped dinner roll and peeling back the foil on his warm meal. Steam rises in to the air between our faces. But it’s the comically large glasses of water and orange juice that have me smiling.
“Honestly, I wanted to donate because of my brother.”
“The paramedic?”
“No, that’s Mason,” he says. “I’m talking about Liam. I have four brothers. Mason, Liam, Noah, and John. Mason, Noah and I are all human.”
“Five sons. Your poor mother.”
He bursts out laughing. “She’ll appreciate you saying so. Yeah, we were rowdy, but they’re good guys. But sometimes bad things happen to good people. Like you and Liam. He was attacked, too.”
“That’s awful.”
Aiden nods. “Yeah, he was only thirteen.”
“Thirteen. God, what a monster. To be thirteen forever…”
“Oh he’s not,” Aiden assured me, pausing to take a big drink of orange juice. “He has the living strain. So his body kept growing and maturing.”
“It can do that?”
“The living vampires can, yeah. Because the body is meant to be predatory first and foremost, so it wants the host to be as strong and fast as it can be. But if his heart had stopped…” He nods his head.
“Yeah, that would’ve sucked. Even worse than the attack I’m sure.”
“He’s made his peace with it. We all have. Coming to Castle Cove really helped. For a long time my mother wasn’t sure how to help him. She’d already had it hard raising five boys on her own after my father passed. She managed. But this was one of those things you can’t prepare for, you know? But she found out about this place and moved us here and we were able to get Liam the support he needed.”
“It sounds like a great place.”
“It is,” he says. “Though maybe not to you, considering what happened. Do you plan to stay in Castle Cove?”
Choice 24
I’ll stay
I plan to leave town first chance I get
Yes, I would appreciate the help.
“That would be great actually,” I say and adjust the pile of brochures in my arms.
Ten minutes later, I’ve signed all the discharge forms, and I’m walking out of the hospital.
Dr. Grange presses a black fob and a black BMV beeps, headlights flashing as we cross the parking lot toward it. “Did you already eat?”
“I did. Her name was Dana.” I don’t know why I bother to give the name. You’re just new to all this, I tell myself. Everything is really strange, and you’re compensating for that awkwardness by providing details that don’t mean anything.
Sure, that’s it. It isn’t that I’m getting into a car with a vampire I met yesterday. That I myself am a vampire and that less than two days ago I didn’t even know such creatures existed.
“It’s great that you’re trying donor feedings so soon. It will help with the transition.”
I nod, not sure if I’m agreeing or just trying
to spare myself from talking.
“Your boss, Ms. Benson, is offering you a leave of absence, with pay,” Dr. Grange says. “If you feel that you need it.”
Laura. Even my boss knows. How weird it will be to see her after this. “Does she know what’s happened? Is she—”
“A member of the community?” Dr. Grange anticipates. “Yes. Most long-term residents here are. If someone has been here for more than a few months, it is safe to assume that they are either supernatural themselves, or are at the very least, aware of the town’s unique demographics. It’s also possible they have family here. Aiden, for example, moved to Castle Cove with his brother, Liam, who was turned. Another brother has since become a werewolf. But there are many here who are human, and wish to remain so, and the community welcomes them as they are. In fact, we need them.”
McDonald’s on two legs, I think.
Dr. Grange frowns.
We buckle up, and she puts her car in drive. I have to trust she knows how to get out of the hospital parking garage and back onto main roads.
I think of Spencer and the note he left. One of them, he’d written.
“You look concerned,” Dr. Grange says, casting a glance at me before turning onto the street. “It’s natural to feel overwhelmed.”
“Are you sure that all the humans in Castle Cove are okay with supernaturals?” I ask her. “You said that Josephine didn’t make it. And it seems like there might be other people—” People like Spencer. “—who aren’t 100% okay with the…community.”
“Castle Cove is no more dangerous than other cities its size all across America. Our problems and crimes tend to be different and can often escalate more quickly—”
Comforting.
“—but I don’t believe you are in any danger. And because of what you are now, Castle Cove is the best place for you to be.”
I don’t argue that I wouldn’t be a vampire if I hadn’t moved here. That as a human, this hadn’t been the best place for me at all.
I must be making a face.
“You’re going to need time to adjust to all this,” she says. “I would consider finding professional help, someone who can talk through this monumental change with you. You were attacked. And that is certain to leave trauma.”
No shit.
“In your packet, I believe there is a list of possible therapists who specialize in this sort of thing. Or we can keep speaking if you like. Though I usually focus on transitional stuff, as we are doing now, I do have a few patients that I see for long-term care.”
To keep her eyes on the newborn vamp, I think. And make sure I’m not some blood-lusty psychopath like Henry. After all, he could be my sire.
I see his dark face suddenly, the twisted menace before he plunged his teeth into my throat. I turn and look out the window at nothing at all. I see the city center shops through the glass, but everything seems cloudy and far away.
“Want to see the vampire version of a taco stand?” she asks.
The blood bank is a standalone building on the west side of Hyde Park. It’s a squat, white, cinder-block building, with a large walkup window. This makes it look more like a dairy stand, ready to serve up ice cream to kids in the dead of summer, than a vampire hangout. The picnic tables cluttered around the front, not to mention the groups of three or four vampires congregating, only adds to this impression.
We park in the gravel lot and get out.
I’m surprised to see at least twenty people hanging around, talking, laughing. Several say hello to Dr. Grange, offering her wide, warm smiles. She returns their waves. Their eyes rove over me curiously but no one approaches or says hello. I’m not sure how to take that.
“They don’t want to be rude,” Dr. Grange tells me when we are second to the front in line. “You’ll get to know each other soon. Most of the ones here are living vampires, and they tend to stick together. I’m sure you’ll make friends quickly.”
“Why do you come here if you’re an undead vampire?”
She smiles. “I suppose I’m an intermediary.”
The vampire ahead of us, a red-headed man with bright green eyes, turns with his freezer packed box and walks away.
We step forward.
“Good evening, Allen.”
“Ah good evenin’ doc. Surprised to see you here. Gettin’ tired of Victor?”
“Victor is just fine. But I’m here to get a pleasure pack for our newest recruit.”
Pleasure what?
“Hi,” I say weakly.
“Ah, all right, darling. First time?”
I nod.
“Pleasure pack it is then.” He turns and steps away from the window, disappearing into the dark part of the store.
“Dare I ask what the pleasure pack is?” I say. “Because if he shows up with a dildo…”
Dr. Grange doesn’t even crack a smile. “Many vampires have particular tastes. Male or female. Young or old. Race. Vegan, vegetarian, fish eaters and so on. The pleasure pack is a 50-count pack that has a little bit of everything in it. I recommend starting there until you know what you like. You can keep a record of what you enjoyed and what you didn’t.”
I’m a little surprised by the variety and instead say, “How sensible, Dr. Grange. Glad I brought you along.”
Allen reappears, bright-eyed and smiling. “One large pleasure pack. If you can’t find something you like in here, just come back and see me. We’ll try again.”
He gives me a wink. I’m about to pay the $100, having read the brochure in the car, but Dr. Grange beats me to it. “First one is on us.”
I don’t know who us is supposed to be. Castle Cove? Dr. Grange and Allen? But she ushers me back to the car before I have a chance to ask.
The next stop is the home goods store for black out curtains and lighting.
“It may seem quite bright to you in your apartment now,” she tells me. We also buy a box of mechanic’s rags. She says that I’ll be surprised by how many I can go through with blood stains. So it makes sense that I also pick up extra detergent and pretreatment solution.
And sunglasses. And sunscreen and a big brimmed hat that I buy on impulse because it’s just cute. Dr. Grange looks distant and sad through all of this, and I find myself thinking about Josephine again, and what Dr. Grange has lost.
And yet here she is, trying to help me.
When we arrive back to my apartment, Dr. Grange is nice enough to hold all the bags while I work the key in the lock. It springs open, and I fall inside, throwing a few items on to the sofa. I turn and find Dr. Grange standing in the doorway, still holding all the bags.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, wondering if my apartment smells or something.
“You must invite me in,” she says plainly.
“That’s a real thing!” I say, unable to hide my surprise.
“For the undead, yes.”
Glad to know demons can’t just walk into your home. Maybe I’ll sleep through the night—er, day—after all.
“You’re welcome to come in, Dr. Grange,” I say. I bend down and help her with the remainder of the bags and the large pleasure box.
“Does that mean that people won’t have to invite me in?” I ask, still trying to get a sense of these rules.
“Right, as you are not technically the dead.”
“No wonder there were so many mixed messages about vampires and what they could and couldn’t do,” I say. “There’ve been two types all along. And people probably had no idea what kind they were dealing with.” The demon-possessed walking dead or infected immortals living with a disease that turned them into nocturnal predators…
“How are you feeling?” she asks me. “Your hunger.”
“I’m a 6.”
“Let me show you the best way to warm this up first then. We’ll tackle the curtains and the lighting after.”
I get a pot from under the stove and put it on the stove top. She turns the burner to low. “You want to warm it, not cook it. I’ve heard it becomes horribly b
itter if you actually cook it.”
“You’ve heard?”
“I don’t drink blood bags,” she says. “Usually.”
I remember Allen’s comment about Victor. “So you have blood donors?”
“I have a harem, yes.”
I imagine a harem is exactly what it sounds like. And I don’t dare ask her to elaborate.
She peels back the flaps on the box and starts rummaging through the bags inside. “Where would you like to start? Male or female?”
“Mmm…male?”
“Human?”
I laugh. “As opposed to?”
“There’s a werewolf in here.”
“Werewolf!” I say, unable to stop myself. “Uh, let me get used to the fact I’m drinking human blood before I start experimenting.”
To be honest I’d rather experiment when I’m alone. I’m not brave enough to try that with someone watching me, gauging my reaction.
“Scissors?” she asks. And I provide them. She cuts off the top of the blood bag and empties it into the pot I used to use for mac and cheese or spaghetti sauce.
Wow, how times have changed.
“Hungry?” Dr. Grange asks, misinterpreting my face.
“No,” I say, but my voice cracks on the word. “It’s just that I used to eat a lot of macaroni in that.”
“You’ve undergone a major life shift. Many of your everyday activities will feel strange and awkward until you make a new routine. But I have no doubt that you can do this.”
I’m nodding, but I feel like I’m a million miles away, listening to a TV drone in the background but not really hearing it. Except its Dr. Grange talking, not a TV.
I’m not sure how I make it to my couch, but that’s where I’m sitting when she pushes a warm ceramic mug into my hand. It’s so warm. Or my hands are unbelievably cold.
“Here,” she says. “Drink this and you’ll feel better.”
I take the mug. It has Hawaii printed on the front, from a spring break trip I took in college. It used to be my coffee mug.
I’ll never drink coffee again, I think, and swallow my first sip of blood. Then I’m gulping, and the mug is empty. She refills it without question and I drain it not only a second, but a third time.
Welcome to Castle Cove Page 9
