Page 56 of Bite Back

Sunlight streams through the windows of our apartment. It’s been five years since everything. Five years since I met Delilah in the club. Five years of confirming I am indeed wildly in love with her. Five years of smiles and laughter and kisses.

Five years since my last hunt. It was my idea to quit, not Delilah’s.

It was the only decision that made sense, the only way forward.

For so long, I thought slaying monsters would banish my own.

I’m done with the lie that I can stop my past from surfacing.

A vampire took everything I love, and a vampire gave me back everything.

I refuse to let my past limit my future.

Today’s the day. It took a year or two before we even talked about it again. And another few years before we were sure. A million conversations with Delilah—and Claude—in between. There’s no need to rush the right choice. And this is the right choice. Today, Delilah’s turning me.

It will hurt. The pain will be worth it. Pain’s temporary and Delilah’s permanent.

She’s flourished in the last five years. There are still nights where she thrashes, unable to escape her dreams. Still mornings where everything that happened weighs heavy. But sooner or later the sunlight always streams in.

She carefully prepared the apartment for my transition. A mini fridge sits in the middle of the living room, full to the brim with bags of bright red blood. Blankets and cold compresses sit on the coffee table.

“Are you ready?” Her voice wavers slightly.

“Yes.” I spin her around so we’re face to face. “I’m ready. Are you?”

“I’m nervous.” It takes a lot for her to admit that, to lower her defenses, to acknowledge any hint of weakness.

I tuck a strand of her hair, now dyed a vibrant purple behind her ear. “You’re not him.” I won’t sully this moment with his name. “You would never hurt me. You’d never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it.”

Her tongue traces the outline of her canine, already elongating as the sun starts to sink below the horizon.

“Come here.” I pull her on the couch next to me and wind my arms around her. My hands thread through her hair. I bring her face to mine, a shudder running through me at the moment her soft lips meet mine. Our tongues slide together, and the tension melts from her body as she eases into the kiss.

She pulls away, breathless and panting. The sun’s sunk, and the moon’s come out. She looks glorious silhouetted against the darkness, my avenging angel.

“You ready?” I know she is. She stands with her shoulders squared. But I want to hear it.

“I’m ready.” Her mouth drifts down from my lips, breath hovering over my neck.

Every hair on my body stands on end. Her fangs prick my neck, soft and gentle at first and then sharp.

Bright pain flashes through me. But it’s momentary, over before it really began.

Her venom flows through me, and I relax into the sweet pull as I soar higher and higher.

I trace gentle circles on Delilah’s shoulders.

Her tongue taps softly against my throat. With time, what began as gentle sweetness builds to a thunderous cascade. Our fingers intertwine. A soft moan escapes her, muffled against my throat.

Eventually, pleasure turns to pain, and I tap Delilah, signaling her as we’ve discussed, I’ve passed the tipping point.

She drinks one last sip and pulls away. Reverently, she kisses each puncture wound.

The first wave of nausea and pain hits full force. Delilah’s hand squeezes mine. A storm’s coming, but we’ll weather it together.