Page 21 of Blind Bite (Best Fangs Forever #1)

Chapter Twenty-One

The tears ran dry eventually. No more self-pity—I needed to figure this out.

Day one of vampire life crawled by in my darkened room. I taped blankets over my windows with shipping tape from my desk drawer. Not pretty, but effective. At least until the new curtains I’d ordered came in.

I searched “vampire” online. Between the fanfic sites and gothic role play forums, I found nothing useful. No “Vampirism for Dummies” or “So You’ve Been Turned Into a Bloodsucker” guides.

My throat burned. The hunger intensified with each passing hour.

I texted Jamie.

Lilith

How am I supposed to drink blood without hurting someone? How do I control this? Please help.

No response.

Amelie knocked on my door around midnight. “Lil? You okay? I know you said you couldn’t eat, but I brought home both of the soups anyway. I can warm it up if you’d like.”

I smelled her—not her perfume or shampoo—but her. The rich, copper tang of blood that pumped beneath her skin. My gums ached as my fangs descended.

“Don’t come in!” I pressed against the door. “Really contagious. Doctor said quarantine.”

“Since when did you see a doctor?”

“Telehealth,” I lied, “please, Ames. I’m fine.”

She paused. “You’re sure you’re just sick? You could tell me anything, you know.”

“I promise, I’m just really sickly and gross. Nothing else.” I fought to keep my tone even. The lie was bitter in my mouth, something else had happened and it had changed my life for the worst.

She sighed. “At least make sure you’re getting enough fluids. There’s a drink by your door when you need it.”

The sound of her footsteps carrying her away from my room was a relief to my ears.

Sliding out of bed, I gently cracked open my door, ensuring she wasn’t watching before I grabbed the drink she left.

Full of electrolytes and boasts about being super hydrating, the perfect thing for someone who was sick in bed all day. The kindness nearly broke me.

Day two was worse. The hunger became a living thing inside me, clawing at my insides. I paced my room, checking my phone obsessively.

Still nothing from Jamie.

Amelie’s heartbeat—I could actually hear it through the walls—was like a metronome counting down to disaster. Each pulse called to me. I dug my nails into my palms until they bled.

If only my own blood could curve the sensation.

By evening, I was hallucinating. The walls drew closer and closer. I could hear every neighbor in our building, their conversations, their breathing, their blood.

I texted Jamie again.

Lilith

I’m scared I might hurt someone.

Please.

Nothing.

Amelie knocked again. “I made soup. I’m leaving it outside.”

The smell of cooked chicken made me gag, but beneath it was the scent of her—warm, alive, delicious.

I bit my own arm to distract myself.

“Thanks,” I called, voice strangled. “Just leave it.”

That night, I heard her breathing as she slept. The steady rhythm of her heart was like a siren’s song. I found myself at my door, hand on the knob, before I realized what I was doing.

I was going to kill my best friend.

Frantic, I tore through my purse until I found it—Felicity’s business card. With shaking hands, I dialed.

“What?” an irritated voice answered.

“It’s Lilith. From the other night. Jamie had—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Felicity sighed. “Let me guess, he ditched you and now you’re hungry.”

“I’m afraid I’ll hurt my roommate,” I whispered.

“Men,” she muttered. “Listen, baby vamp. Go to 1142 Westmore Avenue. It’s his brownstone. Make him help you—he owes you that much. He should have blood there. And don’t take no for an answer.”

“Thank you—”

She’d already hung up.

I checked the time—3:17 AM. Perfect. Amelie was deep asleep, and I had hours before sunrise.

I slid my window open and looked down. My room was three stories up, and as I crawled out onto the fire escape, I prayed it wouldn’t decide tonight would be the night it’d collapse.

The groans of the metal only worsened my concern with each step I took until I was finally able to jump down from the final ladder.

I landed in a crouch, perfectly balanced like some corny superhero. Holy shit.

The streets were nearly empty as I walked, then jogged, then ran. My speed was incredible—buildings blurred past me.

The next time we had a cloudy day, there’d be nothing stopping me from being on time to class.

Halfway there (at least from what the GPS on my phone said), and the hair on my neck stood up. I froze, scanning the shadows. Something—or someone—was watching me. I could feel it.

A cat darted across the street. Just paranoia, I told myself, though I wasn’t entirely convinced.

I found the brownstone easily—a gorgeous building with ornate stonework. Expensive. Of course, Jamie lived somewhere like this.

I pounded on the door, not caring about the hour. When no one answered, I pounded harder.

The door finally swung open. Jamie stood there in pajama pants and nothing else, hair mussed, eyes narrowed.

“What the hell—” his expression changed when he saw me. “Christ, you look terrible.”

I stood there, seething. “Gee, I wonder why. Maybe because you did this to me and then abandoned me and can’t be bothered to answer your phone.”

“I told you the basics.”

“That’s not enough!” My voice raised in a hushed tone. “I need help. I need to know how to function before I turn into a monster.” I took a deep breath. “I almost attacked my best friend tonight. I don’t know how to control these urges. I’m a danger to her and everyone around me.”

He crossed his arms. “You’re a danger, regardless of what I teach you.”

“Oh, like you? You owe me, Jamie.” Tears threatened to spill. “You said you’d take responsibility, so do the right thing for once in your life.”

He quirked his brow. “Who said I’ve never done any good in my life?”

“Call it a lucky guess.”

A hum rumbled from his throat as Jamie turned away, walking deeper into his home. My heart sank. He was dismissing me. After everything, he was just going to—

“Are you coming in or not?” He called over his shoulder. “Because I don’t need my neighbors seeing a hot mess on my doorstep when they go to grab their morning papers.”

I stepped over the threshold, following Jamie into a sprawling living room that screamed old money—leather-bound books, antique furniture, and artwork that probably cost more than my entire education.

It had the same atmosphere as his office.

The hunger made my vision swim, turning the elegant space into a kaleidoscope of blurry shapes.

“Sit down before you collapse,” Jamie ordered, disappearing through another doorway.

I sank into a leather armchair, digging my nails into the armrests to keep from following the scent of him—that strange smell that was somehow comforting in its familiarity.

He returned with a blood bag and a crystal tumbler. “Drink this. Slowly.”

My hands trembled as I took the glass. The first sip was heaven—relief flooding through me as the burning in my throat subsided. I drained it too quickly, but could feel my sense of control returning.

“Easy,” Jamie warned, refilling my glass. “You’re going to make yourself sick.”

“Why didn’t you answer?” I asked when I could think clearly again.

“I’ve been alive for centuries. I don’t do babysitting.”

“You could have at least—”

“What? Left you a manual? ‘What to Do With Your Shiny New Fangs’?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I didn’t plan this. You weren’t supposed to bite me and ingest my blood. Never mind surviving the turn.”

My lack of response caused him to sigh. “I guess if I want you to stop being a pain in my ass, we’d better get started. First things first, a hungry vampire is a rabid vampire. Always maintain a blood supply if you don’t want to bite everything in sight...”

As the hunger receded, I took care to memorize every word. I refused to allow myself to become a monster who had nearly killed her best friend for a midnight snack. This idiot was, unfortunately, my lifeline to living a mostly normal life. If he’s managed to make it this long, surely I could too.

Right?