Page 1 of Bite Back

DELILAH

My body’s a traitor. I toss a cold compress into my shopping cart, hands shaking, and it hits the metal with a clang that makes me flinch.

My eyes squeeze shut, and I inhale a deep breath. I’m not nervous. I’m ready.

I have to remember why I’m doing this. I’m doing it for Luka. I’m doing it for us. For the future we want together. His smile, bright and wide, fills my mind’s eye, and, for a moment, a sense of calm settles over me.

Someone clears their throat, and my eyes fly open, catching on the gleam of the diamond held by a thin gold band on the fourth finger of my left hand. My engagement ring. White blooms along my knuckles as I clench the shopping cart.

I’m ready, right? I run through the checklist of items I was meant to pick up, ticking them off in my head.

Extra paper towels?

Check.

Some bleach, in case things get a little messy?

Check.

A cold compress to help with the inevitable fever?

Check.

A bunch of blood bags, enough for Luka and, eventually, me?

Check, check.

The cart squeaks as it winds through the narrow aisles of the bodega, and a loaf of bread catches my eye—I do love a good focaccia.

Might as well enjoy it while I can.

I add it to my cart and make my way to the register.

The shop owner, Frank, eyes the items in my cart with a raised eyebrow. I paint an undoubtedly too-bright smile on my face in response and brace myself for one of the quips he’s usually all too happy to offer, but, thankfully, he doesn’t comment.

I’ve gotten enough of those snide comments at work the last few weeks after I gave my notice.

It’s not that anyone’s said anything mean—the opposite, really.

It’s the painfully nice tone of concern that sets my teeth on edge.

The awkward mentions of the human experiences—like the ability to have children—I’d be “missing out” on.

All the things I’m already aware of and okay with.

I plunk my items into a bag and hastily make my exit, stopping only to give Louie, the plump white bodega cat, an affectionate scritch under his chin. He lets out a satisfied purr. People should be more like cats. Less judgmental. Louie stretches out, as if he agrees with the sentiment.

Reluctantly, I heft the bag over my shoulder and grunt slightly.

Damn, those blood bags really weigh the bag down.

A bead of sweat trails down my back as I step into the summer heat.

Three summers living in New York City and I’m still not used to it.

On paper, the temperatures aren’t too different from where I grew up in New Jersey.

But something about all the concrete and asphalt turns the city into a frying pan in the summer.

I shift the bag from one shoulder to the other. A block and a half to go. This, I think, is a part of being human I won’t miss.

Only halfway back to the apartment, I groan and make a beeline for the bench up ahead, sinking onto the wooden slats.

A tree overhead, dotting the edge of the park, offers a little shade, and I shrug my shoulders, trying to give them a chance to recover.

My eyes drink in the view as the bottom of the sun dips below the buildings rising overhead.

Pink tinges the bright blue of the sky, the first hint of sunset.

A smile tugs across my lips. I’ll miss this. Being able to take this all in without my eyes burning. Today’s the last day that this will be easy for a while. My tongue traces the edge of my canine tooth, the point blunted.

I’ll miss a lot of things about being human. But I won’t miss out on the future of my dreams just because I’m scared.

The sun sinks below the buildings, bathing the sidewalk in its peachy afterglow, and I stand, heaving the bag back onto my shoulder.

I’m ready.

Ready to become a vampire.