Crimson Born

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Crimson Born Page 10

by Amy Patrick


  “You have to try your very best. He has to get better.”

  16

  A Familiar Face

  For the next week I came back every day to watch Reece through the window and get updates on his condition.

  Dr. Coppa told me Reece was going as long as possible without feeding then practically tearing the blood bags apart once he reached the threshold of starvation and caved to the need for sustenance.

  But the blood was doing its work. I watched as Reece gradually transformed from a wild beast back into someone resembling the guy I’d met at the bonfire. He had no idea I was there, of course, but I was relieved at what I saw through the one-way glass.

  The color had returned to his skin. His face had filled out a little.

  There was sanity in his eyes instead of only fear and madness.

  Someone had managed to get him into a shower—thank God—and had given him clean clothes to wear, but the clinic staff told me he was still hostile and suspicious, snapping at his care providers and demanding on an hourly basis to be freed from his secure room.

  At least he could speak—they said it was the most hopeful sign so far that he’d make a full recovery.

  The injections were still out of the question, as he refused to let anyone come near him and threatened anyone who entered the room with a syringe.

  Even the clinic’s psychiatrist, Dr. Steele, was having no luck with him.

  “I’m afraid we may have found him too late,” she explained with a sympathetic expression. “It happens sometimes, though usually the body fails from the blood poisoning before this level of disorientation sets in.”

  “Let me go in and speak to him,” I pleaded with them both. “I’m sure I can get through to him. And if I explain the injections will speed his healing, maybe he’ll let you help him.”

  Dr. Coppa shook his head. “It’s not safe for you. He’s been threatening male and female staff members alike.”

  He let out a sigh. “I’d really hoped he’d be doing better by now mentally. He’s still quite confused and seems to be suffering from a high level of depression. Physically, he’s recovered. He’s extremely strong in fact—which is part of the problem.”

  “He won’t hurt me,” I insisted, though really, who knew? The boy I’d met at the bonfire would never have hurt me, but that magical night seemed very long ago.

  “Please—let me try. You can have guards standing by in the room. At least unlock the door and let me speak to him through the bars.”

  “A familiar face could be helpful,” Dr. Steele said and cast a what do you think look at her colleague.

  A mix of emotions progressed across Dr. Coppa’s face before he agreed. He walked me to the door and unlocked it, pausing with his hand on the handle before opening it.

  “Stay well back from the bars. If he makes a grab for you, we’ll have to tranq him with a dart of liquid platinum. That’ll set back his recovery by weeks, so I hope it won’t be necessary.”

  “It won’t,” I promised then prepared myself to speak to Reece for the first time in two months.

  I could barely breathe as the door swung open, and I got a look at him through the gaps between the shiny steel bars.

  Reece was sitting upright on his sleeping cot, facing the back wall of his cell. He wasn’t reading any of the books they’d given him. The television was off. As far as I could tell, he was simply staring at the wall.

  When he heard the door open, his posture stiffened, the muscles in his neck and arms visibly tensing.

  He turned his head just enough to growl over his shoulder.

  “Go away. I’m not hungry, and I don’t have anything to say to you Dr. Steele. I’m not crazy—just pissed. I didn’t ask to be ‘saved.’”

  “It’s not Dr. Steele,” I said softly.

  Reece jumped off the bed and whirled around. His eyes went wide.

  “You,” he said on a gasp.

  17

  Reunion

  In spite of my best efforts to control my emotions, tears sprang to my eyes.

  “Yes. It’s me. It’s Abbi. How are you Reece?”

  He didn’t answer my question but slid off the bed and came toward me, stopping about a foot from the bars and staring down at me as if seeing a ghost.

  “What are you doing here? How can you be here?”

  “I live here now.”

  He looked around at the stone walls then back to me. “What is this place? A mental institution?”

  “Oh. They told me you knew.”

  Maybe Reece hadn’t understood all the prior explanations of what was happening to him because his brain had been fuzzy from the animal blood.

  “We’re in Virginia, underground, in a huge cavern. It’s called the Bastion. It’s a safe haven for vampires who can’t—or don’t want to—assimilate with the human world.”

  Seeing the confusion in his eyes, I added, “I’m like you. I’m a vampire now, too.”

  “Oh no, Abbi.” The healthy new color in Reece’s face seemed to drain away in an instant. “I didn’t know... I didn’t realize you... I’m so sorry. How did it happen?”

  The question stunned me for a moment. Clearly Reece didn’t remember the accident—or at least that I’d been involved in it as well.

  I decided it wasn’t in his best interest to bring that up right now—he didn’t need a dose of guilt on top of his confusion.

  “I was bitten,” I said simply. “Like you.”

  Not wanting him to get any more upset than he obviously was, I quickly added, “It’s not so bad.”

  Now he lifted his head and looked at me. “Not so bad? This is a freaking tragedy. Look at you.”

  Glancing down at myself, I evaluated my appearance for the first time in weeks. Growing up Amish, I wasn’t used to considering my looks, but now, seeing myself in English clothes and knowing how the turning changed a person’s skin and hair and eyes, I supposed I did look really different from the night we’d met.

  Actually I’d hoped my looks had improved, so the disgust in Reece’s voice stung a little. My response came out sounding more brittle than I’d intended.

  “Well it’s not my first choice, but it’s better than being dead.”

  “Is it? So you like killing people and drinking their blood then.” The sarcasm fell from his tongue like drops of sizzling molten metal.

  “I haven’t killed anyone. It isn’t necessary. There are other ways to survive, like the blood bags, which are legal,” I explained. “It’s also possible to drink from people without killing them. They’ll teach you about that here. They’ll help you. But you have to let them.”

  Despite Dr. Coppa’s warning, I stepped closer to the bars. “It’s going to be okay. We’re alive, aren’t we? Would you rather still be out there... instead of here with me?”

  “I’d rather not be anywhere.”

  Reece still wore a scowl, which worried me. If he didn’t cooperate with the medical staff, he’d never get better. I had to convince him to allow Dr. Coppa and the others to treat him.

  Steeling my nerves, I went for total—and potentially embarrassing—honesty.

  “Well I’m glad you’re here. When we said goodbye at the party that night, I thought I’d never see you again.”

  Reece huffed a bitter sounding laugh. “Yes, and I’m quite a sight, aren’t I? You shouldn’t have come here. You shouldn’t be near me.”

  “What?”

  Surprise caused me to let out a little laugh, though nothing was funny. “You can’t hurt me, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not as breakable as I used to be, you know. And anyway, I can take care of myself. You’re the one who needs help.”

  His eyes took on a new alertness, and he stood, moving closer. He wrapped both hands around the bars between us and lowered his voice.

  “Can you help me get out of here?”

  I took a half step back. “Out of the clinic?”

  “Out of this whole place. Can you help me escape?”
/>
  “It’s not a matter of escaping. Everyone’s here by choice. As soon as you heal, you can go. That is, if you still want to leave.”

  When Kannon brought him here, I had started entertaining the idea that Reece would want to stay here—with me.

  “Of course I want to leave. You can’t tell me you want to live with a bunch of vampires.”

  “Reece—we are vampires. There’s a lot to like about this place, you’ll see. I mean, yes, I do miss my friends and family—and daylight. But it’s not like we can have any of those things in the outside world now anyway. I have friends here. I’ve been taking classes. In many ways, my life is actually better. It’s safe and quite beautiful in the caverns. When you’re recovered, I’ll show you around.”

  “I am recovered. I’m fine. I just want to get out of here. Please. Help me, Abbi.”

  My heart ached for him. I couldn’t imagine how horrible it would be to wake up in a strange place behind bars—especially with wide gaps in my memory. Of course he wanted to leave.

  “I can’t. Even if I could help you escape, you’re still sick. Please trust me. The doctors are trying to help you. As soon as you’re healed, you can leave.”

  “You sound like them,” he growled, slamming a palm against the solid bars and making them vibrate. “Just go. Go be with your new ‘friends,’ and leave me alone.”

  “Reece...”

  “Go,” he ordered and turned his back to me, walking to the back of his room.

  That was where he remained for the next several days. I came back each evening, and Dr Coppa unlocked the door for me.

  “Try not to be offended if he behaves erratically. It may take a long time for the animal blood to work its way out of his system and for him to be completely coherent again.”

  I nodded and pulled a chair in front of the barred door.

  That’s where I stayed for hours, chattering on about all the things I’d learned in my lessons so far, about my daily routine and the latest funny thing Kelly had said or Heather’s dating escapades.

  I tried to keep things light and breezy, not mentioning Imogen or the other rogue I’d seen executed.

  Reece stayed away from the doorway, either sitting with his back to me or glowering at me from across the room.

  It was hard to carry on a one-way conversation. After a few days I simply ran out of things to say and resorted to reading aloud to him.

  One thing I was not going to do was leave him alone as he’d demanded.

  In my opinion, solitary confinement was the worst thing for him, but the medical staff wouldn’t let him out until he improved, and he couldn’t improve until he allowed someone to enter his room and give him injections of vampire blood.

  So I kept coming, reading, sometimes commenting on the book’s content. Whatever I could think of to try to snap Reece out of this state of despair and show him he was not alone.

  One day about a week into our routine, I arrived at the clinic as usual, Dr. Coppa unlocked the heavy door to Reece’s room, and I dragged my chair in front of it.

  When the door opened, I got a surprise.

  Reece sat in a chair on the other side of the bars, facing the doorway. He looked lucid, and much healthier, and well... good.

  “Hi.” I let out a nervous giggle. “How are you?”

  He didn’t answer my question. Instead he leaned toward the barred doorway. “Did you bring the Mars fantasy book?”

  I nodded and pulled it from my bag, offering it to him through the opening between the bars. “Do you want to finish it?”

  Reece leaned back in his chair. He folded his arms over his chest and answered gruffly. “You finish it. I like the way you read.”

  “Oh. Okay, sure.” I took my seat, wondering if he noticed the blush working its way up my face from neck to forehead.

  As a vampire it was sort of hard to miss those things—blood on the move got your attention.

  Opening the book to the bookmark, I resumed the story from where I’d left off the day before.

  With him sitting so close, I felt much more nervous about reading aloud, but Reece seemed to enjoy it. Gradually his posture relaxed. He even closed his eyes while he listened.

  I was reading a line about a full moon when he interrupted.

  “I always liked your voice. I remember that.”

  “I remember too,” I whispered, my mind going back to the night that had begun so magically and ended so horribly. “Are other things coming back to you?”

  Reece nodded. “There was a blood moon. And horseshoes. And we sat on the hood of my car and talked. I was kicking myself after you left for not finding out the name of your village.”

  His expression of pleasant remembrance transformed into a mask of horror as other memories returned.

  “I was in an accident. My car was on fire. I think I remember you being there. Did someone call you to come? Or... wait... you don’t have a phone. I was so tired. I kept nodding off, and then there was something in front of the car—a black buggy. Oh—”

  His eyes flew open, and he got to his feet abruptly.

  “It’s okay,” I said automatically.

  “Oh my God.... it was all my fault. Abbi...you’re here because of me.”

  “Don’t say that. It was no one’s fault. It was an accident. You said you’d gotten up early that morning for practice, and you probably stayed at the party too late because of me. Anyway, it’s done now. We can’t change the past. All we can do is move forward.”

  Reece didn’t seem the least bit cheered by my assurances. He nearly collapsed back into the chair behind him, burying his face in his hands.

  “How long have you been here? How did you get here?” he asked without looking at me.

  “It’s been nearly three months. I went back to my village after, well, after.” I opted not to go into any great detail. I didn’t like thinking about those horrible first few days, and Reece really didn’t need to hear about it right now.

  Wrapping my fingers around the locket I’d worn every day since then, I chose my words carefully.

  “It didn’t go so well. My friend Josiah—you remember him from the party? He was turned too. He couldn’t handle it. He killed his parents... and then he daylighted himself out of remorse. That’s when I came here. I had nowhere else to go.”

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

  “Do you remember what happened after the accident? Where you went? Where you were for so long?”

  He shook his head. “It’s all a blank. I remember the car being on fire... and then waking up here and seeing you when the door opened.”

  “It’s okay,” I assured him again. “I’m sure it’ll come back to you. And if it doesn’t... maybe it’s for the best.”

  After that, Reece seemed to settle a bit. I continued to visit him in the clinic every day. He was always waiting in his chair when I arrived, a little closer to the barred doorway each time.

  After a few days, he agreed to take the injections of vampire blood—but only if I was the one holding the needle.

  At long last Dr. Coppa allowed me to go into Reece’s room.

  He touched a panel on the wall, and the steel bars retracted into the door frame. Accompanied by the doctor—and a couple of sizable orderlies—I entered the room.

  Funny, though I’d been seeing Reece daily, I was suddenly nervous. Not about the shot—about being close to him again.

  One of the orderlies told Reece to go sit on his bed, and he complied. The other one held a small tray containing a hypodermic needle filled with red liquid.

  I picked it up and moved toward the bed, willing my fingers not to shake. “You’re not scared of needles, are you?”

  “As a matter of fact, I am,” he admitted. “Every time I had to get a vaccination, I cried like a baby—long after I was a baby. I’ve skipped getting a flu shot for the past few years and just taken my chances. Of course, if you’d been my nurse, I might have had a better attitude about it.”

  My
cheeks heated in a flash at his flirtation. He smiled, rolling up the sleeve of his t-shirt to reveal his left shoulder muscle.

  After being around vampire males non-stop these past few months, it shouldn’t have surprised me that that muscle—all of them in fact—were even more developed than they’d been the night we’d met.

  But this vampire male... well he was just that much more alluring than the rest.

  At close range he smelled just as amazing as before. More so, now that my senses were more acute.

  “Well you won’t have to worry about that anymore,” I said to keep my mind off it. “Vampires don’t get the flu. Okay, please hold still. Maybe don’t look at the needle going in.”

  And please stop looking at me like that.

  Reece took the suggestion, turning his head away from the injection site and staring straight ahead. Unfortunately, straight ahead happened to be where my chest was located.

  Not helping the nerves. At all.

  He barely winced when the needle made contact or when I pressed the plunger to inject the vampire blood into his system. But then his brows drew together, and he reached out with his right hand to capture my locket in his palm.

  “I didn’t think Amish people wore jewelry.”

  He let the locket drop, and my hand came up to cover it, pressing it protectively to my body.

  “As you may have noticed, I’m not exactly living the Amish life anymore. Anyway, this is more of a recent development. I started wearing it after I turned.”

  His gaze came up to meet mine. “Really? Why? What’s the significance? Are there pictures in it?”

  I swallowed hard and stepped back from the bed, suddenly self-conscious. The necklace was a private thing. A memento, not of good times, but of the very worst.

  Of something I never wanted to forget or allow myself to repeat.

  An image of Josiah’s haunted eyes came back to me in startling detail.

  “No. Not pictures.”

  In fact, there were no pictures of my family and friends from my former life. Amish people shied away from cameras, believing personal photographs promoted vanity and individualism, both of which violated our ideals of humility and community.

 

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