Sun Damage (The Sunshine Series)

by Rae, Nikki

  “I can’t,” she’s saying. “Just kill me,” she whispers. “Just let me go back where there’s water and Stevie and not this. Not Michael or Jack telling me that Michael made him do all of that shit to me. Not you and me worrying about how I should feel about you. If I should hate you or love you or want to kill you myself.”

  She’s rambling. I know this, but every word punctures through me. Should I have let her die?

  “You don’t mean that,” I whisper, knowing that she most likely cannot hear me. I rub my hand up and down her back. “What do you mean about Jack?” I try to keep my tone as calm as possible.

  Her breath shakes into her lungs when she inhales almost as much as when she exhales. “I talked to him,” she says. “He found me.”

  She tries to stand up but she’s too weak and falls to the ground. “There’s too much shit,” she says. “I can’t...” She pauses only long enough to take in another trembling breath. “And my Dad...This whole time.”

  I kneel down next to her, narrowly avoiding the blood soaking into the rug. I take her in my arms just long enough to place her back on the couch, not wanting to upset her more.

  Sophie doesn’t continue the thought she hasn’t finished. Instead there’s a long stretch of silence where I think she’s trying to calm herself, to make the tears stop flowing long enough so she can concentrate. “I’m going to die,” is what she finally says.

  The tone of her voice echoes all around me, yet it is a hollow, empty sound. She says it as if she’s already accepted it.

  “No,” I say, realizing my fingers are now wrapped around both of her shoulders, squeezing slightly like it can bring her back. “You’re not going to die,” I say. “I won’t let you.”

  She finally looks at me, though there is little life behind her eyes. “Even if I get the blood in me,” she says. “Michael is going to kill me. There’s no way around it. He’s going to find me and kill me.”

  Her voice is taking on the tinge of panic again and I don’t know what I can do to stop it before it begins. It would be easy to tell her that Michael won’t kill her. That he won’t find us or hurt anyone anymore. That we’ll figure out a way to be safe. But I don’t have it in me to say any of these things. Every word would pierce through her and break her apart even more. I cannot help the process. I just can’t.

  Just then, there’s a knock on the door and at first, I’m nervous that it’s someone from the hotel staff or maybe someone who heard Sophie. But when I expand my mind farther than the door, I can hear Evelyn on the other side.

  I make sure Sophie is somewhat settled down before I get up to answer, passing the needle on the coffee table I set out when I sent Adrienne to get her. I would have gone myself, but she would have sensed my presence and I would have only made things worse.

  I knew there was something wrong this morning. I woke up with my wrist aching, my temples throbbing. I could feel her slipping and I didn’t want her to be alone when it happened.

  I called Evelyn just to be safe. I know this isn’t what Sophie wants, but we’re running out of things to try out. Suddenly, it’s like we’re back in Evan’s basement and Sophie is still dying in front of me. There are so many choices but none of them work.

  Adrienne’s right. This will kill me.

  Evelyn is cautious when she steps into the room. She smells too clean. Like she tries very hard to smell nice. I’ve always disliked that about her. But she’s a donor that Alex and Adrienne trust and the only one I could get here on such short notice because she traveled with them.

  “Thank you so much for coming,” I say.

  “No problem.” She smiles as I shut the door behind her.

  She spots Sophie right away. She spots the blood on the floor a second later.

  “Is…everything okay in here?” she asks.

  I can’t find it in me to lie. I just take her arm and lead her to Sophie. Evelyn sits down next to her, studying what could possibly be going on in front of her.

  “She’s sick,” I say, causing Evelyn to jump a little. “She hasn’t fed.”

  “Oh.” She seems to understand. “Sorry,” she says, “I’ve never seen one of you guys like this before.”

  I can only answer her with an uncomfortable smile. “She’s new,” I say quietly, though Sophie’s taken to staring blankly again. “It’s…hard for her.”

  Evelyn holds up a hand. “Say no more. What do you need me to do?”

  I take the needle from the coffee table and put on a pair of rubber gloves. “She doesn’t have fangs either...I don’t think,” I say as I tear the plastic from the needle.

  She nods, holding her wrist out in front of me as I kneel on the floor. I concentrate on making it so she won’t feel anything as I drag the metal across her skin. Maybe if she smells it when she’s not thinking so clearly, she’ll be able to take it. If not, I’ll have to try injecting it into Sophie’s bloodstream, and judging her previous reactions to human blood, that method could turn out even worse.

  As soon as there’s a decent amount of blood on the surface, Evelyn pulls away, bringing the open wound closer to Sophie.

  At first, she doesn’t react. So Evelyn moves closer.

  “No,” Sophie says, turning her head away.

  I carefully sit on the other side of her, placing a hand on the back of her sweaty neck. “You have to try,” I say. “You can’t go on like this.”

  She sniffs with more tears. “I can’t,” she says. “I don’t…” She looks up at me. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

  “You won’t hurt me,” Evelyn says from behind her. “I promise.” She’s trying to coax Sophie into it, but I know it’s not going to work.

  “What if…What if I’m not meant to be this way?” she asks me. “What if I’m supposed to be dead and that’s why none of the blood is working?”

  I shake my head despite the point she’s made. That can’t be true. I won’t allow it to be.

  “No,” I say. “It’s just different for you, that’s all.”

  “Because of my blood?” She whispers. Her face is against my chest now, her neck too weak to hold her head up. My blood is too different?”

  “Wait,” Evelyn says, inching back a little. “What’s wrong with her blood?

  Sophie doesn’t move and I stare Evelyn dead in the face. Nothing.

  “But—”

  Nothing. I’m more forceful this time; it causes her to jump.

  She swallows. I’ve scared her but I can’t be concerned about that now.

  I turn my attention back to Sophie. Her eyes are watering, and it could be from crying or it could be from the pain of starving her body of blood for so long. They’re rimmed in red, the same mine were when I tried to stop drinking blood. I don’t want her to go through what I had to go through.

  When I met Sophie, when I realized how I felt about her, I stupidly decided to stop drinking blood. I thought that if I could prove to myself that I didn’t need blood for longer and longer periods of time, I could prove myself worthy of someone like her. I fought it for months until my hair turned white, my eyes lost their color, and my body ached. I did it because I was desperate to just be human, never once thinking that if I wanted it badly enough I could just take it–from her.

  Seeing her suffer like this is my punishment for entering her life when I promised myself I would leave her alone.

  I want to kiss her forehead. I want to make it better.

  “Do you think she’ll even take it?” Evelyn whispers.

  “I don’t know,” I answer. “But please, just try.”

  It would be so easy to make Sophie do it. As simple as just changing my tone of voice. But I can’t do that to her again.

  I expect her to give me more of a fight but I think she’s realizing just how much she needs this. Sophie turns to Evelyn, her back to me. “I don’t know how,” she whispers.

  Evelyn cradles her wrist in front of her, patiently waiting.

  “I’ll show you,” I say. I positi
on our bodies so one of my arms is behind Sophie, reaching toward Evelyn’s wrist, which she gives me, no questions asked. I speak very softly into Sophie’s ear, afraid that if I say the wrong thing, I’ll hurt her more. “Open your mouth.”

  She takes in a heaving breath, like the words I’ve said and what they mean are enough to make her lungs collapse, but she parts her lips.

  Evelyn finally lets a thought through her mind and into mine. Should I? she asks.

  Yes.

  She presses her open wound to Sophie’s mouth and Sophie immediately backs away; I can’t let her. I hold her head in place with one hand and I clamp Evelyn’s wrist to her mouth with the other. “It’s okay,” I whisper into her ear. “Keep your mouth open.”

  Sophie takes a minute to adjust her breathing. At first she starts to panic, then she settles.

  Evelyn looks from her to me, unsure what to make of the entire scene.

  Are you okay? I ask. There isn’t much pain going through her arm, just the usual sting before the bite. Only there won’t be a bite.

  She nods. “Is she?”

  I can’t answer that question, but Sophie does when she stops struggling against the both of us and gives in. She’s drinking it. She’s drinking it and keeping it down.

  “Good,” I say. “You’re doing really well.” I stroke her hair, gathering it from the clammy skin at her neck. I brave a small kiss there and she relaxes more. Her muscles stop straining, the worried creases in her forehead smooth.

  Then she starts to cough against Evelyn’s skin and a jolt of pain stabs at Evelyn’s wrist. She twists her face into a grimace, but she quickly wipes the expression away and takes in a deep breath.

  I smooth Sophie’s hair behind her ear. “Try to keep it down, Sophie,” I whisper. I can’t imagine what it feels like: your body needing something so badly but not being able to hold onto it at the same time.

  Maybe it was selfish to bite her. It was selfish of me to do anything with her. Become a part of her life before becoming a part of her. I broke everything until she became the girl in front of me right now. It’s all my fault and I don’t know if I can fix it this time.

  Sophie hunches forward while reaching back towards me with her hands. Her heart is pounding so hard, so fast, that I’m afraid this really is too much stress on her body.

  “Okay,” I say, carefully shifting Sophie’s head away from Evelyn, who takes a balled up paper towel from her pocket and presses it against her open skin. The smell of blood fills my nostrils and my fangs push themselves against my gums. They want to come out—they probably would if I wasn’t so concentrated on Sophie.

  She’s spitting whatever blood is left in her mouth onto the rug in front of her, coughing, gasping. Then she vomits in the same spot as before. I’ll have to have someone come clean this up before I check out. The amount of blood on the floor would be alarming to anyone who found it.

  Evelyn jumps off of the couch, backing away like someone’s pulled a knife on her. What the hell? She’s thinking. What’s wrong with her?

  Nothing.

  There isn’t much this time. Sophie didn’t drink as much as she had with the dog. She starts crying again, crumpling in on herself. “No.” When she says it, it’s weak and defeated.

  She curls her entire body onto the couch, holding her legs with her arms.

  I stand up, reaching into my back pocket for my wallet. Evelyn looks like she wants to leave and she can’t help us anyway.

  I count out sixty dollars, think better of it, and add sixty more. She’s staring at Sophie until I place the cash into her open palm at her side. “Sorry,” I say.

  “N–no,” she says, maybe seeing the hurt in my expression. Maybe seeing something else when she looks at me. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”

  “It isn’t your fault.” I clench my jaw shut as I lead her back to the door. It’s mine.

  Sophie is shaking when I turn back to her but she hasn’t moved from her position on the couch. I sit next to her, cautious when I lift her head and place it in my lap.

  “I don’t know what I did wrong,” she whispers. “My head.” She takes both of her hands and squeezes her temples with them. “What’s wrong with me?”

  I move her hands away and make her look at me. She blinks, tears starting to fall.

  “Nothing.” When I say it, I know it’s not true. I know she can see right through me. She always can. This just doesn’t happen. Maybe she really isn’t supposed to exist. Maybe people like her are supposed to stay human and never become monsters like me.

  Sophie turns then, pounding on my chest with so much force that it’s hard to stay upright. “Stop lying,” she cries.

  I try grabbing her hands but she’s too fast and ends up punching me in the face.

  That’s what makes her stop. She stares at my lip as it grows warm and wet and I taste the iron in the blood blooming to the surface. She doesn’t look away, and when I wipe my mouth, she stares at my hand. I feel the spot on my lip shrink and heal moments later.

  “When I turned you,” I say very quietly. “Did my blood bother you the same way?”

  She sniffs a few times, chokes down a sob. “No,” she whispers. “I–I liked that.”

  Something occurs to me that had, vaguely entered my mind before. I just thought it wouldn’t work. It still might not work but I have to try.

  “Okay,” I say, more for myself than her. “I have an idea.”

  She shakes her head, already afraid of what might come next.

  “You have to trust me,” I say.

  Slowly, she sits herself up. Her knees are against my thigh. “How much more can I trust you?” she asks, and her voice is almost the same as it used to be. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

  Sophie swipes some hair from her eyes. “I–” She has to clear her throat, which must remind her of the blood on the floor, because she looks at it for a long time before continuing. “I’ve tried so hard not to,” she says. “I’ve tried hating you. I’ve never wanted to cut a part of my life out more than when you told me...what you told me.”

  I don’t interrupt her. She needs to say these things and if they hurt me, I deserve to be hurt.

  “But I can’t,” she says. “And I...I don’t want to. I want to believe everything you’ve told me. How you love me.”

  Her hand rubs at her stomach. She must be in so much pain.

  “And...” Now she looks at me. “I think a bigger part of me does believe you. I just wish I wasn’t so afraid of what that means.”

  I nod, deciding it’s safe to say something now. “I don’t deserve to be forgiven,” I whisper. “But I do love you. No matter what happens.”

  Her eyes are watering again. I don’t want to make her cry anymore. “I love you too, Myles.” Her voice cracks. “Lately, I’ve been wishing that I didn’t, but I do. I don’t think I can change that.”

  It’s so hard for me to not move closer to her, to not hold her, kiss away all of the pain etched on her face. I don’t have to fight the urge; she leans her head against my shoulder.

  “So,” she says. Her voice is thick but flimsy at the same time. I could swim right through it. “I’m not going to hate you. I’m not going to try. I’m tired of trying. I’m tired...” She wipes at her eyes again. “Just tired.”

  I kiss her forehead and she allows it. “I know,” I say. “Me too.”

  “So what do I do now?” she asks after a little while.

  “Lie down.” I decide it’s the best way without explaining it to her. I think if I explain, it’ll be too much for her right now.

  She hesitates and I don’t blame her. I take a pillow from behind me and after another moment, she lays her head back in my lap so she’s staring up at me. It reminds me of the first time she did this. When I followed her back from the mall to her house because I was afraid she was going to hurt herself. She fell apart that day, but afterwards, I got a small glimpse of that girl–the one I was set on bringing back from the dead. And I did.
For a short while, she was completely herself. Happy in her own skin. With me. Now...now it’s different.

  “Close your eyes,” I whisper.

  Another brief hesitation and then her eyes close. She squeezes them shut for a moment before relaxing her lids but her hand is on the side of her head again. The pain must be unbearable.

  “Just try to relax. Breathe slowly.”

  The first breath shakes in her chest, like at any moment, her body will reject the oxygen. The ones that follow come easier. I take her hand away from her head and hold onto it at her stomach.

  “Good,” I say when her muscles aren’t tense anymore.

  If her breathing becomes any deeper, she’ll be asleep. This is what I want. She won’t be so scared this way, if she lets her mind sink into the background so her body can take over.

  I finally allow my fangs to come out and I make sure I don’t flinch when they do so I don’t disturb her. It’s hard for me to shut off my mind too, so I do it quickly before I can talk myself out of it. I bite through the skin of the bend in my elbow, making sure the blood flows freely before I wrap my arm around Sophie, the wound pressed to her slightly parted lips.

  At first, her body tenses up.

  “Shh,” I try to ease her. “Don’t think.”

  I want this to work. I’ve never wanted anything to work more. Maybe it will. Maybe my blood is the thing that can save her. She isn’t a normal vampire so maybe she can’t feed like one. It explains why she’s so calm and still when she’s near me. Maybe my blood will have the same effect on her body. I can only pray.

  Her eyes pop open and she mumbles something unintelligible against my skin. I know how overwhelming feeding can be sometimes. How your mind wars with itself, how you’re not sure what to do, if you should be doing it, but all the while your body is craving, pushing you towards it.

  “Calm down,” I say, waiting for her to take in a few deep breaths. “Close your eyes again.”

  Then I bend my head down to hers; I brush my lips against hers.

  There’s a moment of uncertainty and complete terror on my part. I don’t know if she’ll even be able to do this, I don’t know if she’ll accept a kiss from me now. I can’t be sure about anything anymore.