Girl, Forsaken

by Graceley Knox

  I round the final corner and enter the science building where my professor’s office is located.

  “Professor Higby. Do you have a moment?”

  “Sasha, I was just thinking about you,” he says without looking up from his computer screen. “We were just talking about TA assignments next semester and—" He stops when he looks at me.

  His mouth twitches as he looks me up and down. Despite the warm, early October day, I wear a scarf around my neck, a heavy sweater, a cap, and a pair of sunglasses. I can’t seem to get warm enough and I don’t know if that’s an effect of my vampire transformation or the effects of the parasite slowly taking over my body.

  “Are you ill, Sasha? Your complexion is more than pale.”

  I catch his emotion, a creeping dread. Oh, dear Lord, he suspects I’m using drugs. That will get my scholarships pulled instantly.

  “No. I mean. I have anemia. It’s something I’ve always had, and we have to watch it carefully. I take iron supplements for it. But the anemia is one reason why I got so interested in working with blood.”

  My inner vampire laughs at my perfidy. Anemia? Iron supplements? Yeah, right. When did I get to be so good at lying? It makes me despise the part of me that loves to get over on these stupid humans. And I hate that I think of Professor Higby, who has been nothing but good to me, as a stupid human. Is arrogance part of the vampire equation? I don’t think I’ve met a healthy one who doesn’t have supreme confidence in their superiority.

  “Really? You didn’t mention that on your grad school application.”

  “Forgive me. I didn’t want the admissions board to think I’d be too ill for the work.”

  He clacks keys on his keyboard.

  “Your professors have no complaints so far. All As on your grades thus far, which is why I thought you might be a good fit for a freshman biology class. But now I wonder.”

  “See?” I say. “My fears are realized.”

  “I suppose,” he says slowly. “Well, I’ll keep it under advisement. It’s a little early to ask you to teach a class, anyway.”

  “I’d rather concentrate on getting my core classes out of the way so I can start on my thesis in earnest next fall.”

  God, I’m so damned good at lying. I don’t even know if I’m going to be here next fall, let alone next semester.

  The weight of my problems hits me then, and I sag against the door jam of Higby’s office.

  “Sasha? Are you okay? Can I get you something?”

  “You know, I’d really like that key to the lab,” I say. “Just the one.”

  What happens next surprises me. The desire in me to get that key is strong and I really, really hope he’ll say yes. His eyes open wide, and he shivers, and something seems to break or rearrange in his brain.

  “Of course, Sasha. I don’t know why I didn’t offer it to you sooner.” He takes out his keychain and pulls a key off his key ring. “You take mine. I’ll get another one from the physical plant.”

  I blink and take the key. “Thank you, Professor Higby. This will help me out a lot.”

  “I’m glad to help,” he says automatically, in a dull tone.

  I figure this is a good time to get out of Dodge because I don’t know what he’ll do when he snaps out of what I did.

  Total shock descends on me as I step out in to the hall. Holy shit. I just compelled a human to my will. I’d seen Arsen and Niko do it. Hell, Niko did it to me, but I didn’t think a vampire as new as I could do it. I should talk to Arsen about this.

  Suddenly exhausted, I sink to a bench in the hall.

  And my phone chimes with a text notification. With a sigh I anticipate it’s Arsen, but my nose wrinkles in distaste when I see it’s Niko.

  Nope. I slip the phone back in my pocket when it chimes again. This must be Arsen.

  No. Niko again. What the hell?

  I shove it back into my pocket, leave my advisor’s building, and nearly jog across campus to the science building. The phone chimes again and then again, while I pointedly ignore the calls from my maker to pay attention to him. Screw him and the whole vampire community. Why should I work my ass off to save them? What do they mean to me?

  Only Arsen means something to me, and because of him, his sister, and if I don’t do something to help her, it’ll break his heart.

  I’m screwed no matter how I look at it.

  On the tenth call, ready to throw the damn thing in the fountain in the quad, I pick up.

  “What?” I snap.

  “What?” growls Niko. “Did you crash the car?”

  The car? This is what he’s blowing my phone up about?”

  “No. It’s fine.”

  “You didn’t return it.”

  “I didn’t know I was supposed to.”

  “You were, when you reported in to make your report.”

  “Listen, Master,” I say as nastily as I can, “I’ve been busy, working. I know you don’t know what that means, seeing you are independently wealthy and all, but some people need to work.”

  “Yes, I know. That’s why I allowed you to find the cure for my people.”

  “You allowed? I seem to remember a fair number of threats.”

  “You have no idea what a threat is, fledgling. Because you are so new you have no idea what true dangers await you as a vampire. This is why you are supposed to live in the compound until you learn enough not to get yourself killed. Do you think that I turn just anyone?”

  That remark strikes a nerve, and I remember Jackson’s confession of him getting me involved.

  “Are you saying you targeted me? Because of Jackson?”

  Silence.

  “Niko,” I say in a warning growl.

  “I pick who I want to bring into my ranks.”

  “That is not an answer.”

  “I do not owe you answers. You owe me obedience and loyalty.”

  A total confession of guilt. I want to rip his head off and feed it to the fish in botany’s koi pond. No. That’s too good for the smarmy bastard. I want to feed his fingers to the fish in the koi pond while he watches. I’ll rip his head off and let the meat get ripped apart by crows. Then use his head as a candle stand in my apartment. Yeah, that seems fitting. Only I don’t want his head anywhere near my apartment.

  I’m so confused.

  It sucks being a vampire. There is so much of me that wants to reign retribution on his ass, and I can’t because he is my maker and the leader of one of my covens. If I try to do any one of the things my mind creatively concocts, I’m the one that’s undead meat.

  “You’ll come home, now.”

  Who the hell does he think he is? My father. Hell, no. I am not going back to Niko’s compound. Let him drag his butt here and force me to return. That’s the only way I enter that hellhole again.

  “Listen, you bastard, I’m not going near there unless I want to. And guess what? I don’t. Yours is not the only coven I’m a part of. Technically, Arsen’s coven is more than willing to take me. So, think about that because I know for a fact that he’s dying for a reason to deliver a smackdown on you. As they say in Hollywood, don’t call me. I’ll call you.”

  I hang up the phone more agitated than ever. And I don’t feel well and probably need to eat. Jackson hasn’t made good on his promise from this morning to bring me food, so I guess I’m left to fend for myself.

  “Do you want to donate?” says a young woman to my right.

  I look up to see a blood donation vehicle, a converted camper with the donation company’s name blazed across the side. At first, I open my mouth to say “no,” but then I think about all those lovely pints of fresh blood inside and my newly acquired skill to compel.

  “Sure,” I say at her beckoning hand.

  Sasha Keleterina, you are a horrible, shitty person. You know that, right?

  My fangs ache, and I silence my conscience before I climb the steps and enter the little medical world where hapless humans give away their blood in the vain hope of helping o
thers. A man about my age tells me to stretch out on a reclining chair, and I do, smiling coyly at him.

  “You’re first time?” he asks.

  “Giving blood?” I say. “Hardly. I used to give more than my share to the cause.”

  He frowns while he takes a pinprick to type my blood and the scent of it rises between us, and I smile, hoping I don’t look like a crazy clown. The young man jugular pulses as his heart quickens with nervousness. He might not know why all of a sudden his heart starts dancing a rhumba, but I do. The mind may not recognize when a predator steps in a human’s path, but their bodies always do. And I, most definitely, am a predator.

  I glance at his name badge again.

  “James,” I say smoothly. “I’d like to take a look at a couple of recent donations.”

  Just like I did with the key, I curl my desire around holding two donation bags of blood, which I want very much. But young James’s mind is nothing like Professor Higby’s. James is young and pliant and not tired of fighting the ridiculous demands of academe. So I have to push harder, and James’s mouth twitches, and his eyes narrow as I bear my will down harder.

  “I . . . I . . .” he stammers. He’s too caught up in fighting the dissonance between submitting and denying.

  “It’s okay,” I say soothingly. “I’m a researcher. I need some blood for my work.”

  This seems to make sense to the young, befuddled James and he unlocks a refrigerator door behind him.

  “What type you want?” he asks.

  “What do you have most of?” I ask. As much as I want to say “one of each,” I know some blood types are more rare than others, and I’m trying to limit my list of “shitty things Sasha’s done today” to a livable number.

  “O?” he says.

  “O’s just fine. It’s the universal donor.” I almost giggle at this joke that only a vampire would get upon first hearing, but I figure it may break the spell I had on James. And I can’t count that I can hold it.

  He hands me two bags which thankfully still haven’t chilled yet, and I smile warmly at him.

  “Don’t worry about remembering me,” I say as I push the suggestion on him. “I’m not that memorable.”

  “Sure,” he says automatically. “You’re forgettable.”

  I don’t like how that sounds, but beggars can’t be choosers. And selfish vampire assholes can’t be ungrateful. I rise and leave the truck with my meal stuffed inside my sweater.

  Chapter 16

  I’m conflicted about my theft of blood from the donation truck, but already I’m rationalizing it.

  No one is hurt.

  People will not miss the blood they already donated.

  And I’m damn hungry.

  After reducing my guilt with thin excuses for my shitty behavior, I have to find a place to eat because I’m pretty sure that sipping from a donation bag like it’s a juice pouch will draw attention to me. My foggy brain can’t think of a private enough place on campus. At this institution of higher learning, people are everywhere, moving around in a dizzy swirl of activity. Then I remember the bell tower in the science building. People rarely go there, so it’s worth a shot.

  I hurry toward it while my anticipation for my gory meal grows.

  “Sasha!” calls a familiar voice.

  Oh hell. It’s Jackson. He can’t—won’t—understand what I just did. It will only underscore the growing differences between us. I speed along, hoping he’ll believe that I don’t hear him calling me.

  But maybe that’s the wrong thing to do with a vampire hunter? His footfalls grow louder in my preternaturally developed hearing, and then his hand lands on my shoulder. I whirl and he bumps into me, which is the worst thing that could happen. I can already sense his suspicion growing thick around me.

  His eyes widen, as his hand pushes against my chest.

  “Hey, do you mind?” I snap. “My lady bits are off limits!”

  “What’s that?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t play innocent. What’s that in your sweater?”

  “None of your business.” I keep the f-bomb out of my vocabulary because I don’t want to antagonize my best friend. I just want him to leave me alone for the next thirty minutes.

  He reaches his hand inside my sweater, which would appear to anyone else like a boyfriend’s playful touch, but to me is a gross intrusion.

  “Hey!” I protest.

  He pulls back and purses his lips.

  “Where did you get those.”

  “The lunch truck,” I say innocently.

  He glances over his shoulder to the blood donation vehicle and then and swallows hard.

  “Tell me you didn’t harm the people there.”

  “I didn’t harm the people there,” I cross my arms. “Mostly.”

  “Mostly? What do you mean by that?”

  At that second, I want to compel Jackson to leave me alone, but it seems grossly wrong to do it. Maybe this means I still have some of my humanity left intact? At least I hope I do.

  “No one is physically hurt, Jackson. But a few brain cells may have been manipulated along the way. Nothing more than a good bender on Friday night.”

  “Jesus, Sasha,” he swears. “What did you do?”

  “I may have compelled the technician into giving these to me.” The weight of Jackson’s disproval weighs heavy and I try to shift away, but he grabs my arm.

  “Compelled?” His eyebrows are higher than I’ve ever seen before. “Christ, Sasha. You know that’s an upper level ability, don’t you? How the hell did you develop that?”

  “It is?” I say stupidly.

  “You know damn well it is.”

  “I don’t know anything of the sort. All I know is that I wanted the key to the lab and Professor Higby gave me his, and then I was hungry and saw the donation truck so—”

  “You can’t just make people do things that they shouldn’t!”

  “I can’t? Well, why not? It’s not like people just give me what I want or need. Hell, you were supposed to bring me food, and you didn’t. You abandoned me.”

  I guess my selfish asshole streak isn’t over.

  “Aban—? Sasha, do you hear yourself?” Panic gathers on his handsome face, and his fear projects onto me. I look at him, really look at him as the prey animal he is. The predator in me wants to tell him to run, so I can chase him and bring him down properly. I want to claim his carcass as my mine and take from it what I need.

  I shudder at the thought of a dead Jackson, and what’s left of my humanity is horrified. Apparently, my homicidal hunger trumps someone, who only yesterday, mattered more to me than my own life.

  “You better leave, now, Jackson. I’m hungry and I might not be able to control myself if you keep harassing me.”

  “I’m not—”

  But I arch an eyebrow. “In fact, how can I be sure that you’re not in league with Nikolai?” I know I’m reaching, but I can’t stop myself. “I mean, all his finest tools do just that—harass me endlessly—like Demetri.”

  “How can you even suggest that? Niko is my enemy.”

  “And he’s my maker.” I emphasize the words through gritted fangs. “What does that make me to you, eh?”

  Jackson’s expression changes as if I struck him a fatal blow. Idiot that I am I force him to see the reality of our situation, stripping it bare and hand it back—bleeding.

  He raises his hands. “Okay,” he says. “Drinking from blood bags is a good option, if it keeps you from attacking humans.”

  “Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

  “Sasha, this isn’t you. You see that right?”

  My body throbs again and my need to eat, to feed, takes control of my words. “Or maybe you’re finally seeing me as I am now.” I take a step toward him. “Does that scare you? That I’m a disgusting, selfish vampire?”

  “Stop,” he says.

  “Make me.”

  “What the fuck?”

  Teeth bared, I shove at him with one
hand and he stumbles back a step.

  He immediately grabs at something under his shirt and I realize my irrational hunger has robbed me of my common sense. We’re frozen, eyes trained on one another as if we are dangerous strangers and not dear friends. “Fine, take the fucking bags. But I warn you, if you hurt someone, I’ll end you. I’ll have no other choice.”

  “Go ahead and try,” I growl.

  Jackson, hands up, backs away slowly, fully aware that any predator, when aroused, finds a retreating figure an irresistible attraction.

  I turn from Jackson, tears wetting my cheeks, and I forget my plan to go to the bell tower, drink, and watch the students and professors cross the quad. Instead, I make for my neglected slightly off campus apartment. I don’t even think of the expensive Audi that may or may not sit in the campus parking lot because I don’t have a parking sticker and sooner or later it will get towed, which probably will tick Niko off.

  Good. I want it to.

  It’s all his fault, all of this. I’m inhuman now, ready to snack on my best friend and consume him as if he’s a five-course meal because some insane bloodsucker had to have me for lunch. It’s not fair. I don’t deserve this and all I want is my old life back.

  I don’t even remember making it to my apartment. All I know is that my footsteps hit the wooden stairs in heavy thuds, and my hands shake as if I were jonesing for some drug while I unlock the door.

  I skid across my mail, strewn all over the floor from where the landlady jammed it into my mail slot, and I tumble onto my couch. Christ, it feels like forever since I was here. I pull out the pouches of blood but I’m unable able to see them through the haze of my tears.

  I was perfectly awful to Jackson, and had terrible, irredeemable thoughts, and I die inside reliving them in my head. Dear god. At first I told myself I wouldn’t be a monster like the rest of them, but how can I know? Look how I treated Jackson and how I thought about him. What will be I be like fifty years down the line? One hundred? Two hundred? If I even survive this parasite. Soon, everything I am could be lost to a feral insanity. No more Sasha the student, the researcher, the savior of mankind by my brilliant research work into rare blood types.