Bring Me to Life

by Scarlett Parrish

  That's probably got something to do with Adam sprawling across the settee like he owns it, arms spread along its back, feet resting on my coffee table beside my battered, much-read copy of Jude the Obscure. I don't read just French and Russian novels. Sometimes, a good old English tragedy speaks to me.

  There are armchairs too. No one makes use of them. The only one with the balls to even pretend he's comfortable is Adam, Adam, bloody Adam.

  For most of the duration of this excruciating little chat, tete a tete, ménage a trois, whatever the hell I'm supposed to call it, I've been standing by the mantelpiece, occasionally leaning on it. While telling Alyssa about the time when I begged Will not to tell of my continued existence, I turned my back and leaned on the mantel shelf with both hands, gripping it hard enough to make myself think I might even splinter the wood. Near-impossible, even with my supernatural strength, but such was my emotional turmoil.

  I didn't want to see the look on Alyssa's face, but most of all---and God help me for saying this---

  I didn't want to see the betrayal in Adam's eyes as I went over the conspiracy to keep him in the dark regarding my continued existence. Between us, we already know the details, but saying it out loud will never stop hurting.

  "Right. So." Alyssa's eyes are definitely welling up, and this fact makes me think of the time Adam sat on the steps outside that tenement block, trying to tell me how let down he felt, how deceived. "This is all your fault, then?" She's looking at Adam, frowning, trying to work him out.

  I feel like telling her, I've been trying to do that for seventy years and have still gotten nowhere.

  Still slouched with his arms along the settee back, Adam raises his shoulders in a bastardised shrug.

  "What? You don't care?"

  "Of course I fucking care, little girl." Adam leaps to his feet, and instantly, I'm on high alert.

  "Don't you dare 'little girl' me, you murdering scumbag---"

  "He's still alive, isn't he?"

  "That's debatable." She shoots a little smirk in my direction, and I have to admire her balls.

  Standing up to Adam Locke and still taking time out to joke at my expense. That's one of the many reasons I like her. "I'm twenty-five."

  "And I'm a century older. Can we just accept I've won this ageist pissing contest and move on?"

  "Good God, you two!" I screw my hands into fists and press them against my eyes, trying to block all of this out. The two most important people in my life can't stand each other. Alyssa, my best friend, and Adam, my...whatever he is. I may not love him; I may just want to screw the arse off him then throw him out like a piece of rubbish, but like it or not, he's important. Perhaps it would be better to say influential. Whatever the rights or wrongs of the situation, he's the reason I'm still here today. I just don't know what to call him. I can think of a few things. Mostly four-letter words.

  But I have no idea what he actually is to me. "This is not a contest. Alyssa, I know you don't like Adam for what he's done, but, well, he did it, and no one can change that."

  "And if it weren't for me, you wouldn't know each other now," Adam pointed out.

  "What do you want? A medal?" Alyssa snaps.

  "If you'd waited, Nathan might have come round eventually. By choice. And this Will character wouldn't have had to perform the world's most twisted patch-up job on the man you claimed to have loved."

  "It's no mere claim," Adam snarls.

  "Do you often rip people's throats out to show your love? Thank God Nathan's never done that to me."

  "No, darling; it's because you're not his type."

  "Adam. For fuck's sake. The pair of you. Just stop it. Stop it. I'm not going to apologise for what Adam's done," I tell Alyssa, then turn to Adam.

  "And I certainly won't apologise for anything Alyssa's said tonight. She's got a mind of her own, and if you can't face up to someone calling you on what you did wrong, you've got a long, hard, lonely road ahead of you."

  Adam's entire being flinches. It was the word lonely that did it. He's afraid of being cold-shouldered. He can follow me. He knows where I live, after all; I showed him myself. I can move, he can stalk me to the ends of the earth, but it's still in my gift to give him what he wants or to withhold it.

  "I still can't believe you fucked this guy,"

  Alyssa sneers. "He must have a fucking gold mine up his prostate."

  "Are you going to let her speak to me like that?" Adam demands. "Because if you're trying to be fair to both of us, I'm getting a distinct air of favouritism here---"

  "Maybe that's because I'm not the bloodthirsty scumbag who nearly killed him. God, no wonder he hid from you for seventy years. Why the hell would anyone want you?"

  Adam leaps forward, and I don't even think; I throw myself in between the two of them. One hand on his chest is all it takes for me to stop him.

  He glares over my shoulder at a chuckling Alyssa then returns his attention to me.

  "She's off limits," I whisper. Cool, calm, and definitely don't fuck with me. "You touch her, I'll tear your throat out myself. Don't think I won't do it. You did it to me---fair's fair. I know just where to hide the body to stop the authorities from coming after me, and to tell you the truth?" I make a c'mere gesture with a flick of my head and lean in to whisper directly in Adam's ear. "The authorities give even less of a damn about vamp- on-vamp crime than they do black-on-black. We're already dead. What would they care if I killed you off properly?" I back off to get a better look at Adam's face. My words have had the desired effect. Perhaps too well; if I'm not mistaken, he actually believes I'd do it. There's fear there and surprise that Sergeant Nathan Stephenson would use his army training and pent-up aggression to do harm. In cold blood. Those three words almost make me laugh, and the feeling of power is arousing. I stand back. I want air between us. And no chance for him to feel exactly how much of an aphrodisiac this new-found power is to me.

  "Maybe I should go home---"

  "Yeah, maybe you should, little girl," Adam positively snarls, but he speaks in a low voice, almost a whisper, making his words all the more disdainful.

  "And when you get rid of this loser," Alyssa continues, "you can let me know it's safe to come back again."

  "I'm not going anywhere."

  You think? I want to say out loud. Adam, staking his claim yet again. Some things never change. But for now, I just want this conversation over and done with.

  "Nathan, I'll just go to use the bathroom before I leave, then I'll slip out---"

  "Let me walk you home. I'll get my coat and ---"

  "No, no. Stay with your guest. I know how much you pride yourself on being hospitable; you can't leave him. And Adam, I think you know just how much of a pleasure it was meeting you." Just as I would have expected of her, Alyssa can't resist slamming the living room door on her way out.

  "You." With a balled fist aimed at the centre of his chest, I push Adam back.

  "What? What did I do?"

  "Don't make me spell it out."

  "Didn't you hear the way that little---" He must see the anger on my face; an immediate adjustment of his tone is called for. "Didn't you hear the way she spoke to me? Alyssa Whatever-her-name-is is no angel, no matter what you might like to tell yourself. No one involved in this is."

  "She was just trying to defend me."

  "Defend you?" Adam looks away for a few seconds, shaking his head in obvious amazement.

  "Defend you? She's a fucking human being. How the hell could a mere human defend a vampire?"

  "With words. By sticking up for me."

  "She couldn't do anything to stop me if a fight between you and I really kicked off."

  "But it's not going to. Is it?"

  "And she couldn't do anything to defend herself, either."

  "But that won't be necessary because you're not going to touch her, are you? Are you?"

  "Jesus, why this rabid desire to protect a bloody human being?"

  "She's my friend, Adam. Something you m
ight not be able to understand, but that's the way it is."

  "I wonder if you'd defend me so vehemently?"

  "Oh, there's no need." A smile plays at the corners of my mouth, but it's one laden with sarcasm, not sincerity. "You can take care of yourself. Always have done, always will."

  "You say that like it's a bad thing." He almost pouts, folding his arms and turning away. "I had no one else to look after me," he mutters, almost inaudibly, and that's saying something when the only other person in the room is a vampire with sharp hearing.

  Along the hall, the toilet flushes, and seconds later, taps run. Whether this is an old building and pipes working echo throughout the block, I don't know. Maybe it is just a case of supernatural hearing.

  "I should find somewhere else to camp out for this coming day," Adam announces, turning sharply on his heels and looking straight at me.

  Something in the back of my mind recognises this as a challenge. Alyssa's movements at the other end of my apartment send a shiver of suspicion up my spine. I don't want to be thinking this way but can't help it.

  He's got form, after all, doesn't he, Nathan?

  "No; there's no need." I try to inject as much hospitable bonhomie into my voice as possible, even laying a brotherly hand on his shoulder. No, fraternal isn't the mood I should go for. I give his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

  Adam says nothing, but he does look down at my hand with ill-disguised contempt. "I know what you're thinking," he eventually says before lifting his head to look into my eyes. My hand jumps away from him as if shocked. "And while some part of me wants to say I can't blame you, it was seventy fucking years ago. Don't you think I've punished myself enough? I don't need to see such an insult in your every move, and quite frankly, if you're only trying to keep me here because you think I'm going to do some damage to your contemptible friend out there, I'd rather fuck off back home, if you don't mind."

  At least he didn't have to shrug my hand off.

  That would really have stung.

  He gets halfway to the door before I blurt out the word, "Stay."

  Adam stops, and his shoulders twitch with pathetic laughter. "A few years ago, I would have killed to hear you say that." He glances back at me.

  "Metaphorically, I hasten to add. Your problem is you take it literally. You think I mean it, which isn't something I'll ever be able to shake off, so ---"

  We both jump when the front door clicks behind Alyssa. She's left, and now it's just the two of us.

  "I'd rather go. Don't worry, Nathan. You can look out of the window if you like; check that we walk in separate directions." And before he leaves my flat, ever cheeky to the end, he tells me to, "Have a nice life."

  Chapter 14

  I DO AS HE SUGGESTS. Reluctantly, because it means I admit he was right. I am still suspicious of him.

  I keep the windows screened twice over through the day; normal Venetian blinds over the glass, and blackout blinds over the top of those.

  Shutters, practically, they keep out even the merest chink of daylight. I'm old enough to get away with a sliver of light here and there; more than that, actually, but to be on the safe side, I keep the windows covered as much as I can.

  I earlier mentioned to Adam that in some areas, bricking over windows or keeping them otherwise covered over advertises one's undead state, and that can sometimes lead to trouble, but the street I live in is respectable enough. People see me coming and going and leave me pretty much to my own devices. It hasn't always been like that, but---these days---people are more accepting if you're in the right place.

  As to Adam's suggestion? I pull the blackout blinds back and peek through the slats of the Venetians. He looks back at me; I see his hateful glare and wonder where he's going to spend the daylight hours. He's resourceful; he'll find somewhere. He hasn't lived this long without knowing how to look after himself.

  Alyssa, though. She would have walked off in the opposite direction; she lives nearby. I should have escorted her, or at the very least instructed her to call me once she was home safely. Even a text message.

  I let the slats go and close the blackout blinds over the top of them again. I could kick myself; I should have gone with Alyssa, but it would have meant leaving Adam alone in the house and...

  "Fucking idiot. " I kick one of the legs of the coffee table but not hard enough to break it; not that I would have cared otherwise.

  What a damned mess.

  I feel like I'm waiting for something. On edge. Alyssa's gone home but isn't answering her phone; I assume she's fallen asleep, the alcohol consumed being too much for her. She seemed sober enough. I should have followed her, I should have followed her. But the look on Adam's face... yes, he was angry at my suspicions, but there was hurt too. As if he was thinking, "I can't believe you think I would seriously hurt someone you care about." He kept trying to convince me he'd changed, but then he'd slip back into his own self, and I still can't work out which Adam is the real one.

  Adam himself? He'll be holed up in a hotel somewhere, waiting for daylight to pass. He'll come back here, or go back home. My guess is he'll go home, at least for a short time. Then when he's cooled down, he'll be back, and I'll have to deal with him all over again.

  I hope you're happy, Will; you're the one who kicked all this off.

  At least those two will be in a safe house, well looked after. The odd text message from Will assures me Kieran's well, so at least someone's happy. Whether he's overjoyed at having Loverboy with him for all eternity and this is what's stopping him asking how things are going at my end, I don't know, but I'm almost glad he doesn't make such enquiries. Too awkward a subject. Too touchy.

  While I'm channel-surfing and trying to pretend I'm reading yet another novel for the umpteenth time, my mobile rings. I snatch it up from the coffee table immediately and frown at the unrecognised number. The code says it's from the same city, so maybe Adam's calling to let me know where he is. I shrug. That's something at least.

  "Nathan Stephenson?"

  Instantly, I sit up straight. "Yes. Who is this?"

  "My name's Laura; I'm a staff nurse at Saint Luke's---"

  "The hospital?"

  "Yes. I have a friend of yours here, a Miss Alyssa Palmer. She asked me to call you---"

  Sitting up straight isn't enough; I stand, as if that'll make me better able to cope with whatever comes next. The paperback I was hardly reading falls to the floor.

  "What's happened?"

  "Please, Mister Stephenson, try to stay calm; it's---"

  "Tell me what happened. And it's Sergeant Stephenson." I don't often pull rank, especially as said rank is no longer current or active, but if ever an occasion calls for it, this one does.

  "All right. Sergeant Stephenson. Your friend Alyssa was brought in early this morning with a wound to her neck and---" I'll fucking kill him.

  I'll rip his throat out with my bare hands "---and someone phoned for an ambulance. Miss Palmer's in and out of consciousness; she's very tired, but in between times, she wrote down your name, said your number was in her mobile phone and could someone contact you to let you know."

  "What? Someone phoned in? Who?"

  "I'm not sure who. All I've managed to find out is that someone called for an ambulance, saying that a young female was lying in the street, having been attacked. Your friend was brought in to the casualty department, we treated her, and as I've said, she managed to write down your name and a contact request. She'll want to see you once she's had a bit more rest. Can I tell her you'll be coming in to see her?"

  "Yes; yes of course, but I'm afraid I won't be able to make it for a few hours; what time is evening visiting?"

  "Between six and eight; is there any way you could come in this afternoon? She seems quite keen to---"

  "No, I'm afraid that's just not possible." I don't have to spell it out, do I? A young woman brought in with a wound to her neck, and the one person she asks for isn't able to come out during daylight hours...

&nbs
p; I can only hope they don't think I'm the one responsible. Not that my guilt or innocence in the matter is my primary concern right now; I want to make sure Alyssa's back to full fitness before long.

  "Is she all right?" I ask. "I mean, well..."

  "Oh, she'll be fine eventually. Lost a bit of blood, but there shouldn't be any lasting damage. It looks like whatever happened was interrupted---"

  "Thank God. Thank God."

  "Yes. Indeed. I can inform Miss Palmer you'll be in to see her this evening, then?"

  "Yes, of course. Please do. I'll be there as soon as visiting time starts."

  "Good; she'll be on ward thirty-six. Will you remember that? Her mother's with her at the moment, so she'll be well looked after."

  Wonderful. As well as having to help Alyssa through such an ordeal, track Adam down and make him very sorry indeed, I'm going to have that bloody dragon to deal with.

  Life doesn't get much worse than this.

  I notice from the corner of my eye that I draw glances as I stride along the hospital corridor. My skin's pale, so maybe that gives it away. Or maybe no one here is an expert in vampires, and it's simply the fact that I'm over six feet tall, dressed in dark clothing, with my full-length overcoat flying behind me like a set of wings.

  I hated that I had to wait until sunset to leave the house, but it couldn't be helped. Then again, I was heading to the hospital, so maybe I could have risked it. They have a burns unit, after all.

  Wouldn't have been able to visit Alyssa if I'd ended up there myself, though. I waited on a bench in the hospital car park for fifteen minutes before visiting hours began. The longest fifteen minutes of my life. I suppose I could have waltzed in, demanding to be admitted, but that would have just salved my own worries. It wouldn't have done anything to aid Alyssa's recovery, which I hope won't take too long.

  Ward thirty-six is easy to find; there are signs everywhere, and the place is well-lit. I've never been able to work out why artificial lighting has no effect. Maybe it's an exaggeration of human beings getting sunburned outdoors, but being able to sit in a room with a normal lamp in the corner for days, weeks, months on end without coming to any harm.