by Anna Zaires
I stopped throwing shit around the room. “Who’s Sam?” I demanded.
“Sam doesn’t need to get involved in this, Ivy,” Ryan said tightly.
“Who’s Sam?” I repeated, louder this time.
“I’m Sam.” A voice answered me first, and then a tall handsome vampire (I was starting to recognise them on sight) with shaggy brown hair, dark brown eyes and incredibly sleek, muscled arms appeared beside Ivy in the hallway. He looked from me to Ryan, balling his hands into fists. The two had a very tense stare–off, until Ivy cleared her throat.
“Sam,” she said pointedly. “Ryan has brought Mia here to help her adjust to our way of life. She doesn’t really trust him though, seeing as he kidnapped and tortured her and made her jump out a window.”
“I didn’t make her jump,” Ryan said weakly.
“Oh, well in that case,” Sam answered sarcastically, “What are you doing here?”
Ryan started pacing the length of the large bedroom.
“I didn’t know who else to trust, okay? Caleb has eyes and ears everywhere – I figured you guys were my only safe option. It’s not like he can get into either of your minds.”
Sam appeared to relax slightly. Ivy looked bored.
“These people don’t even like you?” I said to Ryan incredulously. It had all just clicked for me. These two hated Ryan by the sound of things. “Why are we here?”
Ryan threw his hands up, frustrated. “This thing that connects you and me? It also connects me to Caleb. I can feel him right now, trying to get into my head and figure out where we are. All of my friends? Are vampires, either made by Caleb or somehow connected to him. So he’s pretty much sifting through all of their brains, right now, trying to find us.”
“Do you have protection from him?” Ivy asked.
“Only these stupid hex bags.” Ryan pulled his from his back pocket and threw it on the bed. “The other reason I came to you. I need a witch to help me stay hidden. You’re the best there is.”
“You have the heart, too,” I said automatically. Ryan glowered at me. That was supposed to be a secret, he said silently.
I smiled.
Ivy looked pissed. “You didn’t tell me the whole story, Ryan. Let’s talk. Now.” She stormed off in the direction of the kitchen, and Ryan followed closely behind her.
I looked at Sam awkwardly. “So …” I said. “What do you do? Besides drink blood and kill people.”
“I’m a Doctor,” he answered, looking confused. “A professor, actually. I work at UCLA. What happened to you?”
I shrugged. “You know. Vampires take you from a parking lot, you wake up in Mexico, they shove little taps into your brain. The standard B-grade horror movie.” I fidgeted awkwardly, not sure what to do with my hands.
Sam looked horrified. “You saw Caleb?”
“Oh, yeah.” I pointed to the disgusting round bite scar on my neck. “He had the buffet.”
Sam stepped closer, studying my neck. “There’s nothing there,” he said.
“What?” I turned and rushed into the ensuite bathroom. I leaned in as close as possible to the large mirror, studying my neck with my new laser–accurate eyes. Nothing. Not even a scratch. In less than a week, my infected, pus–leaking vampire bite had completely healed without so much as a scar.
Sam stood in the doorway that led from the bedroom to the bathroom, but I could tell he didn’t want to come any closer. I had the distinct feeling it was because I was a girl, and that made me wonder. Ryan didn’t care about my personal space. I was surprised he cared for me at all, after the things he’d said and done back in Mexico.
“You’re a doctor,” I said, turning to him. “How did I lose a massive vampire bite?”
Sam frowned. “How long since you Turned?”
“Since I was Turned,” I corrected him. “You’re implying that I did this to myself. Quite the opposite. I expressly asked that this not be done.” As I heard myself talking, I realized that I sounded like an entitled little bitch, but I was beyond caring.
Sam blinked. “Right. How long since you were Turned?”
“I don’t know,” I answered quietly. “A few days? Less than a week. I don’t remember a lot of it.”
“Well, the good news is you’re not going insane,” Sam said, obviously trying to lighten the mood. “Vampirity is caused by a virus. It attaches itself to your DNA, makes its way into every cell in your body, and takes over. Vampires can heal from a wound in a matter of minutes. Have you attacked anyone yet?”
“What?” I looked at him incredulously. “No. Ew! Why?”
He shook his head, seemingly pleased. “It’s just ... you seem remarkably lucid for a newly infected vampire.”
“Remarkably lucid?” I echoed. “All I’ve done for the past few days is throw up, cry and bleed.”
“Thank God for that,” Sam replied. “Usually, vampires spend their first few weeks – or months – attacking everyone and everything they can.”
I cast a sidelong glance at the broken lamp and overturned bedside table in the corner and tried to appear calm and generally non–violent. “Is that what you did when you were Turned?”
He paled. He looked like an injured puppy dog.
“Sorry,” I apologized. “It’s none of my business.”
He just searched my face, as if looking for the answer to a question I didn’t know.
This is awkward.
“That’s what all vampires do,” he said quietly. “The bloodlust, it’s quite horrific.”
“Bloodlust?” I echoed. “Like being hungry?”
He stared at me like I was a freak. I shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his eyes.
“Like being a homicidal maniac,” he said, “with zero impulse control.”
“Oh,” was all I could think to say. I tried to imagine Sam as a homicidal maniac with zero impulse control and failed. The guy looked too normal. Ryan, on the other hand …
“Do you want something to eat?” Sam asked, abruptly changing the subject. “I just put a pizza in the oven.”
I wanted to ask if the pizza sauce had blood in it, but I stopped myself. This guy seemed nice enough. I figured I should really save all of my snark for Ryan.
“Um … sure,” I shrugged, suddenly starving. My last meal had been in Mexico, like, ten hours ago at the diner. All I’d eaten in the car was a half–melted Snickers bar and some salted potato crisps.
“This way,” Sam said, taking off down the hallway. I grabbed my favourite Yankees sweater from the pile of clothes I’d emptied onto the floor and followed him out into the kitchen area. Ryan and Ivy were nowhere to be seen, which made me feel better. Sam seemed genuine and pretty normal, whereas Ivy seemed volatile and on edge. And when she had told me to get inside, I hadn’t been able to resist her, which scared the crap out of me.
How had she made me do something just with words? Was it because she was a witch? Or was it because she was a vampire?
I wasn’t even sure I wanted to know.
EIGHTEEN
The large kitchen boasted wide French doors that led out to a sheltered outdoor lounge and barbecue area, and beyond that, a massive turquoise–colored pool that was shaped like a kidney. I walked through the open doors and was hit by the pleasant smell of pepperoni and rising dough. Sam stood in front of a red metal pizza oven, with a paddle in his hands. I watched in all my starving awe as he scraped a pizza from the bottom of the oven and slid it onto a plate.
He cut the pizza into eight slices and gestured for me to sit at the long outdoor table. It was smooth on top but the sides were uneven, as if it had been carved from a single tree trunk. I sat across from Sam and took a piece of pizza. “Ow!” A string of molten cheese stuck to my thumb. I decided to let the pizza cool for a minute.
“So, you live here?” I asked.
Sam nodded as he took a bite of pizza, apparently unperturbed by the molten lava cheese that covered it.
“And you and that Ivy chick, you’re a thing?
”
He laughed with a mouthful of food, I guess because I referred to her as a chick. “Mmm–hmm.”
“How long have you been a vampire?” I asked.
“How do you know I’m a vampire?” he replied.
I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not sure,” I answered. “I just do.”
“Sixteen years,” he said, going for a second slice. “Since the summer of ’97.”
“Sounds like a song,” I said, taking a tentative bite of pizza. It was good. Gooey and cheesy, with just the right amount of pepperoni on top. My stomach growled loudly.
“Almost. That’s the ‘Summer of ’69’.”
I guessed he looked a little older than me, twenty maybe, and counted back in my head. “So, you’re like ... thirty – something now?” He was the best looking thirty-something-year-old I’d ever laid eyes on, that’s for sure. He made Ryan look like a regular dude. What was with all the vampires being amazingly good looking?
“I guess,” he replied, wiping his fingers on a paper napkin. “I was twenty–one when I was Turned. That makes me thirty–seven next month. Old…”
I tilted my head curiously. “Do you feel twenty–one? Or do you feel almost thirty–seven?”
Sam shrugged. “I guess I don’t really feel any particular age. I’m pretty young for a vampire. Ivy's seven hundred years old.”
I raised my eyebrows. “That’s why she’s a raging bitch,” I guessed.
Sam laughed. “Grumpy, and with excellent hearing, as well. You’ve been warned.”
“Right. So, can you explain to me how this virus actually works? I mean, I still don’t really believe all of this, but you know, just humor me.”
Sam nodded. “Sure, okay. Come down to the basement and I’ll show you a couple of DNA models I’ve made.”
I stiffened at the mention of a basement, and dropped my half–eaten pizza slice. A basement. Somewhere without windows. Somewhere I could be locked. Where nobody could hear me scream.
“I’ll just talk you through it out here,” Sam said swiftly, noticing my reaction. I relaxed again, taking a breath. It was just ridiculous to think that I no longer needed to breathe.
“Do you want the vampire folklore version or the scientific version?” he asked.
I shrugged, picking up my pizza again. “Hit me with both,” I replied. “It can’t hurt.”
“Okay. Vampire folklore first. Back in the eleventh century, this guy is walking down an alleyway, when he’s attacked by a mob of drunks. They stab him and leave him for dead. This guy is calling out for help, calling for Jesus or God, but he’s clearly bleeding to death. So, anyway, then he starts calling out for anyone to help, and this beautiful woman appears in front of him out of nowhere.
“He begs this woman to help him, and she says she will, for a price. He’ll do anything to avoid dying, so he agrees. He thinks she’s an angel and agrees to give her ownership of his soul.
“She feeds him her blood, and he lives. He falls in love with her instantly. It’s only later on that she tells him the truth – she’s a demon on day–release from hell, or something like that. And he’s just become the first human to be Turned into a vampire through drinking her demon blood.”
“That sounds screwed up,” I said, pushing my plate away.
“It really is,” Sam agreed. “That guy’s Caleb, by the way.”
“Shit,” I replied, suddenly alarmed. “Can the demon woman help him find me?”
“No.” He sounded sure. “She’s in hell, where demons belong. She hasn’t been back to earth since. Someone closed that little loophole and now she’s stuck down there for good.”
“Hell,” I said. “The Underworld? Is that where I was?”
Sam shook his head. “It usually takes a person a couple of days to reach The Underworld entrance after they die. From what I hear, you were only gone a few hours.”
I looked around in frustration. “I’m sorry,” I said plainly, “but does this not all sound a little crazy to you? I mean, come on. There are vampires? Demons? Hell?!”
Sam shrugged. “It’s what I’ve heard. I don’t believe one way or another because I haven’t seen proof either way. I never believed any of it at first but… you see things. Your perception of what’s real changes pretty fast in this world. When you see a person die and then wake up alive the next day, you start to believe some of this crap.”
“And the sciencey part?” I asked, hoping at least that would sound a little more believable.
“Right.” Sam finally pushed his plate away, seven chewed pizza crusts all that remained of his delicious creation. I stared at the empty plate between us with wistful regret.
Next time I will eat faster.
“Vampires are just regular people that have been exposed to a virus,” Sam began. “It’s a virus that we carry in our blood. You can’t catch it from the air, or from touching something a vampire has touched. It takes a blood transfusion – a big one. Drinking vampire blood isn’t enough anymore. You have to have a lot of vampire blood injected straight into your bloodstream for the virus to take hold.”
“If vampires were all regular people once, why are they all such assholes?” I interrupted.
Except you.
Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. I think it has a lot to do with the type of people who want to be vampires, you know? A normal person doesn’t just wake up one day willing to give up their humanity for a chance at immortality. It’s people who are already screwed up. Greedy people. People who are dying. People who feel like they don’t have any other options. People who get forced into it.”
Like me. My head was hurting. I massaged my throbbing temples with my fingertips.
“You okay?” I heard Ryan’s voice behind me, and felt a warm hand on my back. It still irritated the hell out of me, the way he was acting like the good guy in all of this.
“Mm–hmm,” I replied, shrugging his hand off of me.
“You thirsty?” he asked, quieter this time.
Sam let out a surprised noise, and I looked up at him. His eyebrows were raised and he looked kind of pissed.
Great, three pissed–off vampires in one day! A trifecta.
“I can’t believe you, dude. You say you’re trying to help her?”
“Sam, stay out of this.” The warning in Ryan’s voice was unmistakable.
Sam slid his glass of water across the table so it was in front of me. “If you’re thirsty, drink this. You don’t need to listen to him.”
“Wait.” I looked from Ryan to Sam, confused. “Don’t vampires need blood to live?”
“Yes,” Ryan said.
“No,” Sam said at exactly the same time.
“You told me I had to or I would die,” I protested through gritted teeth.
“She will go crazy, Sam –”
“Do I look crazy to you?” Sam asked angrily.
Ryan groaned theatrically. “Give me a break. You’re ... different to everyone else.”
“You’ve been fed a story, Mia.” Sam was insistent. “Vampires don’t need blood, they simply like it, the same way an addict likes their drug of choice. You won’t die if you don’t drink it. You can just eat and drink exactly the way you did before you were Turned. I’ve been like this for fifteen years now and I’m just fine.”
He did look just fine. Mighty fine, actually. He didn’t have that sickly pallor under his skin that Ivy and Ryan possessed. He looked normal. I turned to glare at Ryan. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t believe him.”
“What he’s saying is impossible,” Ryan exploded. “That’s a good reason.”
Sam pointed to me, but his words were for Ryan. “You think I’m different? She’s different, man. Look at how together she is. You say she woke up after the change yesterday? She should be snapping people’s necks right now, having a massacre somewhere, and look at her.”
I suddenly felt self–conscious. Having a massacre?
Ryan did look at me, for what seemed like a long time.
“Fine,” he said. He went inside and came back with a steaming mug full of what looked like black sludge. He slammed it down in front of me, and some of the dark brown liquid sloshed over the table. “Drink that.”
“What is it?”
“It’s diluted with coffee. It’ll help you feel better.”
I pressed my lips together and shook my head. “I don’t want it,” I said stubbornly.
I saw Ryan’s jaw clench, and even though I wasn’t trying to read his mind, I could feel the anger and frustration radiating from him. These two obviously had a history.
“Why are you trying to mess this up?” Ryan asked Sam in a measured, even voice that didn’t sound half as mad as the way he obviously felt. “I’m trying to do the right thing here.”
Sam rose from his chair so the two were eye–to–eye. Well, Sam was about an inch taller, actually, but that’s not important.
“What are you up to, Ryan? You don’t help people. You kill people. Especially pretty high school girls.”
He thought I was pretty?
Ryan looked almost embarrassed. “I think I had ... an epiphany.”
Sam laughed, slapping his thigh with his hand. “Dude, are you shitting me? Last time you had an ‘epiphany’,” he made rabbit ears in the air with his fingers, “you burned Ivy's house down.”
“Second time’s a charm,” Ryan replied coldly.
My feeling that Ryan was generally not a very nice person was being strongly reinforced.
Ivy suddenly appeared behind Sam. She glared at Ryan. “You need to back off, okay? You wanted our help, and you’ve got it. But you’re not in charge here.”
Ryan shook his head. “This was a colossal mistake. I risk everything for this stupid girl who won’t do anything I say, I come home, looking for help from an old friend, and I’m the asshole?”
He thought I was stupid? Stupid and pretty all in one.
“You came home, Ryan?” Ivy said in disbelief. “This is Sam’s home now. Don't start waving your dick around like you own the joint. You burnt this place to the ground, remember? Sam and I rebuilt it, brick by fucking brick. So you can either back off, or get out.”
