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I struggled to get my feet up on the ledge and stand, like the few extra feet of height would give me more breathing space. My lungs pumped, I was suffocating, couldn’t get enough air into me.

I looked down. The ground was stories below, a hundred feet at least, maybe more. My lungs were burning. I looked at my toes sticking to the edge. I shifted one foot forward. If I just…

“If you’re going to jump, go feet first.”

I spun around so fast I almost… my foot lost contact, and I was falling back off the roof. I could feel gravity take me. Shaw grabbed me by the shirt and pulled, held me unmoving. I grabbed for his wrist, like a lifeline. I looked over shoulder at the ground that was calling to me.

What the fuck was I doing?

Shaw’s gaze held me as sure as his fist did. Checking for damage, his eyes flickered all over me. They were intense, like a whole universe hid behind them. That helped pull me back together. His skin beneath my fingers was warm, and solid, and real. I gave him a little nod, like I was OK. I wasn’t, but he didn’t need to know that.

Shaw righted me, but he didn’t pull me off the ledge, just made sure I wouldn’t fall. He uncurled his fist and tugged on the hem of my t-shirt to straighten it back out again. Hopping up on the ledge with me, he took a moment to take in the sight of Manhattan in the distance, looking magical. Standing next to me, his arm barely brushing mine, like that was all he would allow himself. He sat gracefully and dangled his feet off the drop. I tried for a deep breath, too. I could still smell everything, but it was less invasive now.

“Feet first, you’ll just break your legs,” he took out an antique looking cigarette case. His long fingers pulling out a cigarette were like poetry in motion. Vampires did seem to have uncanny grace, like the books said. He rapped it with a solid tap on the case. “Head first, and that’s some serious TBI. Won’t kill you, but it will be the least fun 6 months of your life.” We both stared down at the ground below us.

“Like any of this isfun.” I air quoted. I put my hands on my hips as I tried to figure out how I was going to sit down. I didn’t have a fear of heights thing, but it would be a dumbass move to lose my footing and accidentally fall. Super embarrassing to do that in front of Shaw, of all people. He offered me his hand, realizing my dilemma. I took it and managed to sit without causing an international incident. Maybe you had to grow into that vampire grace thing? I exhaled heavily. I had run out of steam, all the crazy in my head burned off with talk of brain injury.

He was silent for a long time. We just kicked our feet over the drop and admired the bits of the skyline visible over the surrounding buildings. A plane roared over head, I had to cover my ears. At least I didn’t cringe and duck like some goober. Finally, he lit a second cigarette and handed it to me.

“What the hell, it won’t kill me, right?” I took my very first cigarette drag and didn’t even cough. I could feel a jittery buzz start in my lungs. I expected a laugh at my pathetic joke.

“So,” he sighed, “if you want to die, I’ll kill you.”

I choked on a big cloud of smoke.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s exceptionally hard to kill yourself as a vampire. The drive to survive and live is what made you a vampire.”

“How do you mean?”

“Maybe one in ten people survives being made. Maybe. And I suspect that comes from a singular desire to live,” he looked up at the stars, “usually fueled by spite or a deep longing.”

I thought about that for a second as I fiddled with the cigarette to look cool and natural holding it.

“So, you have to be a cunt or a hopeless romantic to make it as a vamp.” I looked up too. I had never seen so many stars in the city before. Was it a vampire thing?

He laughed. “Yeah, something like that. I’m stealing that one.”

“What’s going to happen to me?”

“I don’t know, but first you have to choose, Princess.”

“What are my options?”

“Life or death. That’s the first choice you have to make. If you want to live as a vampire, then you have to choose to live like a vampire. You refusing to drink blood until you’re so lost to blood lust that people have to hurt you to control you, is dangerous and damaging. You have to learn to control it, to be with the blood lust, accept it as part of who you are.”

“What’s my other option?”

“I already told you. If you don’t want to be a vampire, I’ll kill you.”

I fumbled the cigarette and dropped it over the edge. We both watched its journey to the ground.

“Fine motor control is the last thing to come back. The knitting is probably good therapy.”

In more ways than one.

“If you want out. If you choose not vampire, I’ll do it for you. As a favor to you. Take care of it. We’ll do it Anne Boleyn style. Off with your head. I’m very good with a sword.” He made a swinging gesture.