Page 8

A pretty shitty ride so far.

T here is a gold mist surrounding my feet by the time Syrsee arrives home in the truck. It’s my hunger manifesting as color. I guess. I don’t really know what it is, but it comes with the cravings when they get bad and right now, they’re bad.

When I meet Syrsee at the truck, it’s not the bags of groceries I want to grab, it’s her. I want to push her up against the door and drink before we do anything else. Before I even say hello.

I force myself not to do this. I force myself to smile, remain calm, and let her load up my arms with paper grocery bags.

Then I carry it all into the cabin with her trailing behind me.

She doesn’t say much, but I don’t care. I am not even capable of having a conversation right now. It takes every bit of willpower to not attack her and drink.

For a moment I think she will insist on putting everything away before she feeds me. But she lets out a breath and turns to face me. “You’re hungry.”

I can’t even speak so I just nod.

“It’s weird, but I can feel it. And it’s pretty overwhelming right now, isn’t it?”

I nod again.

“OK.” She steels herself, leaning against the counter with hands grabbing at the edges. “Do it. Quick.”

I’m next to her before I even make a decision to do this. And a moment later, her blood is rushing into my mouth. I lose myself—everything goes gold and purple—but then Syrsee is grabbing my hand, pulling it off her breast.

“Ryet—”

I ease back, eyes closed, mouth dripping. “Sorry. I didn’t realize—” But that’s all I get out. Because I’m drinking her again.

I’m not sure how much time passes—seconds? Minutes? Years? All I know is that when I open my eyes, I’m on the couch and I can hear the shower going in the bedroom where I put Syrsee’s things. I don’t even know how I got here. But I don’t really care, either.

It takes several more minutes before I can open my eyes and keep them open for more than a few seconds. It’s like a drug, this blood. It sends me somewhere else, but not really. I’ve never done heroin, of course. But I’ve seen the addicts on the streets with needles sticking out of their arms, their eyes rolled up, their minds in some other place.

That’s how I feel after I drink. But it’s getting worse, not better. The more I do this, the more it affects me. It makes me slow, in both mind and body, and I don’t like it. Because if I’m slow, I’m not paying attention. And I feel an overwhelming need to pay attention.

Like maybe my life depends on it?

If I could die, it might.

Can I die?

I don’t know.

My back is itching like crazy so I take off my shirt and reach around, scratching. But as soon as I do that there is blood under my fingernails and the hard knobs of bone have finally broken through the skin.

I lean forward, looking over my shoulder, trying to see it. I get a little glimpse, but not much. Not enough. So I walk over to the mirror near the front door and stand with my back to it.

The little knobs are white, which surprises me for some reason. I was expecting black webs, like Paul’s. But it’s not that far along and I actually think this is just bone. It’s good and bloody, though. Kinda gross, actually.

“Oh, my God.” I turn and find Syrsee watching me from the open bedroom door. She’s dressed in a pair of jeans and a maroon t-shirt that she must’ve picked up during her trip to town. Her long, dark hair is still wet. “Your wings.”

I nod. “Yeah.” To say that I am less than thrilled about this would be an understatement. “It’s really happening, I guess.”

“Does it hurt?” She doesn’t come towards me. Doesn’t come get a better look at it. Doesn’t offer to clean the blood off me and dress the wounds. Something I think she would’ve done a couple weeks ago.

“I’m not sure if it hurts, but it’s definitely uncomfortable.”

She doesn’t know what to say to that, so she says nothing.

I change the subject. “Feel better?” I add a lightness to my tone, trying to turn this whole thing around.

I hate that she hates me. I know she has every reason to. And hate is probably a strong word. It’s not hate, it might be revulsion, which would be worse, in my opinion. I’d rather have the hate.

“Yeah. I do. Thanks.” She heads towards the kitchen. “I’m going to make dinner.” I watch her pull open the fridge and start gathering things, things I didn’t help put away because I was in my post-feeding high, or whatever it is. She places several ingredients on the counter. “Do you want some?”

“Do I want some?” I smile at her. “Yeah. I do.” She smiles back at me. “But”—her smile falls—“I don’t think I could keep it down, to be honest. So I’m gonna pass.”

She forces that smile again, but it’s fake. “Right. I figured, but I don’t want to leave you out.”

“I appreciate the offer. I really do, Syrsee. And I hate that we’re so distant right now. I wish it was different. Actually, I wish it was the same as before. I wish it was like it was.”

“Yeah.” She nods. “Me too.” But then she just turns away and starts preparing her meal.

I don’t know what to do next. I don’t have a TV here, so I can’t turn that on for background noise. I do have a radio, though. An old-timey one that takes up way too much room in one corner of the cabin. So I walk over there, turn it on, and then bend down, trying to find a station. It only takes a second to find the first one—polka music.

Which makes me laugh, and when I look over my shoulder, Syrsee is smiling as she cuts up some vegetables. “Do you polka?” I ask.

She shakes her head, still smiling.

I move the dial to another station and find classic rock. I don’t ask for her opinion on this. I’m not in the mood for Ozzy. So I continue down the spectrum and land on bluegrass. When I stand up and turn, she’s nodding at me. “This is kind of appropriate.”

West Virginia music, for sure. “Do you know how to play an instrument, Syrsee?”

“No. I took a little piano in college. Just for fun.” She scoffs. “Actually, I didn’t pick that class. The Guild chose all my classes and they put me in piano for two semesters. It was a private class. Just for me. And I kinda liked it, but I didn’t learn much. I didn’t even know how to read music when I started. So it was a whole lot of ‘Jingle Bells,’ and ‘Happy Birthday,’ and ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ for a while.”

“And what could you play by the end?”

She sighs, but not a tired sigh. More of a thinking-back sigh. “‘Für Elise.’”

“That’s impressive.”

“Trust me.” She’s slicing a cucumber. “It was tediously slow in tempo. And it took me the whole second semester. I learned that one and ‘Lean on Me.’”

“Fun.”

“Do you play an instrument, Ryet?”

“Guitar and violin.”

She stops cutting to look up. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Hmm. Just didn’t see that coming. But…” Her eyes meet mine. And we stare at each other for a moment. “You would’ve had a lot of time, right? To learn.”

“Yeah. I had lots of time.”

She sighs again. This time it is a tired one. Then she puts down her knife.

“Everything OK?” I ask.

She wipes her hands on a dish towel. A brand-new one that she must’ve bought today because I’ve never seen it before. “I have to tell you something.”

“All right.”

“I ran into Tristin in town.” She says this in a rush, like she needs to get the words out before she loses her nerve.

“Who’s Tristin?”

“A Guild member. He says he’s some kind of rogue vampire?”

“A what?”

“I’m not really sure about that part. It’s not important, I don’t think. The important part is… they want me to bring you in.”

“Bring me in?”

“To the Guild.”

“They want you to betray me?”

“Kinda? But I’m not sure.”

“Which part aren’t you sure about?”

“I’m not sure they’re… the bad guys.”

I walk over to the kitchen counter that separates me from her and brace my hands on it. “I think you should start from the beginning. I didn’t even know about these Guild people until right before I met you. Paul never told me, so I’m not sure what any of this means.”

“Well. I grew up with them.” She sighs, like it’s a lot more complicated than that. “I’m not sure what they are to me, but they used to be my family. Until they sent me to White River, that is.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. They set me up. They told me that they were sending me somewhere safe?—”

“And they sent you straight to me.”

“Yep.”

“Which turns out to be the very short end of the stick as far as deals go.”

She shrugs, but doesn’t disagree.

“So… why are you telling me? Why not just tell them so they can come get me?”

“Oh, they know where you are.” She holds up a finger. “And I didn’t tell them that, by the way. There’s a lounge in the general store in town.” She must read my confusion because she wipes a hand through the air. “Never mind all that. The point is, they can’t come get you. They’re afraid of you. They want me to talk you into this.”

“Is that what you’re doing?”

“No. I’m not going to talk you into anything. I don’t trust them and I don’t think you should either. I’m just telling you what happened because we’ve got enough shit between us right now, ya know? We don’t need secrets.”

This answer actually gives me hope. “You have no idea how much I appreciate what you just said.”

“Oh, I have an idea.” Then she laughs, letting out a long breath. “I like you, Ryet. I want you to know that. I’m confused, and I feel cheated, and I don’t know if we have a future together. But if I have to choose between you and them? I’m choosing you. I’m not going to leave you for them, even though Tristin promised that they will let me read the books.”

“What books?”

“The ones in the library. I was a librarian for them for the past several years, until you got too close when my grandma was dying and they made me leave. It’s filled with all kinds of information that I was never allowed to know. Things about me. Things that would explain me.”

“And now they’re using that to bribe you?”

“That’s how it feels.”

“What do they want with me?”

“I don’t know, really. Something about babies, I think.”

“ Our babies?”

“Maybe? I don’t know. Like I said, they didn’t tell me anything all growing up. And what Tristin said to me in town was just a tease.”

“Do you need this information? This history of yours?”

“I wouldn’t mind having it. But I’m not going to turn?—”

“Then we should go.”

“What? But what if they hurt you?”

“If they could hurt me, wouldn’t they do that instead of sending you to talk me into it?”

She frowns at me. “Are you doing this because it’s a fair trade for the blood?”

I actually laugh. “Um. Yes. But…” I hold up a finger. “I really do want to make you happy. I like you, Syrsee. If you want to go there so you can get your history, then fuck it. Let’s go. It’s not like we have other plans.”

“You’re not afraid?”

“Of…?”

“The Guild?”

“Maybe I should be, but no. I’m not. I think it’s gone too far.” I point at the emerging wings on my back. “There’s no going back from this. I’m a vampire. And I’ve spent enough time with Paul to understand what kind of power comes with this transformation. Maybe I’m not in control of it yet, but if they had a way to subdue vampires, they would’ve done it already.”

She and I just stare at each other for a moment. Then a small smile begins to creep up her face.

This is when I realize I’m giving her something she truly, truly wants. She wants to go home and I’m the only way she can do that. It is a fair trade. And I don’t care what these Guild people try to do to me, as long as Syrsee is happy, then I will let them do it. “Do you know the way, Syrsee?”

“Yes. It’s up in New Hampshire.”

“Should we leave tomorrow?”

Syrsee scoffs. “Tomorrow? No . We just got here, Ryet. I need a break. Don’t you need a break?”

“I need what you need. I want to give you whatever it is you need. And if you need to go home, that’s what we’ll do.”

Everything about her softens as these words of mine float through the air, drifting on some unseen current. Syrsee watches them, like they are real things that can be seen. And when her eyes meet mine again, she suddenly looks like the woman I met outside the diner that night. Someone who hadn’t yet met me. Who hadn’t yet been changed by me.

I want her back, that version of her. The happy one. I want her back.

She’s unhappy now. And maybe, in the future, we will get more moments where we come together on an issue, like we’re coming together on this one, but that’s not the same as happiness. It’s something far less than happiness.

“I want you to know,” I say, my voice low and my eyes locked with hers, “that I really mean that. Whatever you need, Syrsee. It’s yours. And while the trip is a good way to start making up for what I’ve turned you into?—”

“What you’ve turned me into?” She’s pointing at herself. “Ryet, I’m the one who did this to you .”

But I’m shaking my head no. It wasn’t her who did this, it was Paul. But I’m not in the mood to discuss Paul right now, so I just finish my sentiment. “This trip is just the start, Syrsee. If you have to be a slave to my hunger, then I have to be a slave to your happiness. Whatever you need, I will provide it.”

We stare at each other for a long moment, simply looking into each other’s eyes. Is she searching for truth? Is she condemning me to Hell? Is she thinking… He’s manipulating me. He’s evil and so are all his promises ?

Because that’s what I would be thinking if it were me in her place and Paul in mine. I would be thinking, Lies . He is nothing but lies .

Syrsee comes around the counter and walks right up to me until we are so close, she has to look up to meet my gaze. Her arms drape around my neck, sending chills down my spine, and then she leans up on her tiptoes and kisses me.

It’s a small kiss. There’s no tongue and we don’t really linger. So when she pulls back I ask, “What was that for?”

“For… being patient with me this afternoon as I was freaking out.”

“To be fair”—I let out a breath—“you have every reason in the world to freak out about what’s happening to us.”

“To us ,” she says. “That’s the thing I was forgetting. It’s not happening to me, it’s not happening to you, it’s happening to us. I like you, Ryet. And if I wasn’t stuck with you for the rest of my life, that’s all I would be thinking about. How I would love to be stuck with you for the rest of my life. How could I stick you to me? That’s the question I would be asking myself.” She pauses, like she’s trying to come up with the right words to express her thoughts. “It’s like… a soulmate bond. Something very romantic in the movies. Two people forced into being a team due to forces beyond their control.”

“Who fall in love despite their differences,” I add.

And this makes her smile. She might even, for a moment, be happy. “They fall in love despite their differences, and then overcome great challenges. Which only makes their bond stronger.”

“And by the end, they’re dying to die for each other.”

She laughs. And it’s a real laugh. “Yeah. That.”

“Well, I would like to go on record that I’m truly sorry for stealing your happiness, Syrsee. If it were up to me, I would set you free. I would die for you.”

“Please don’t do that.” She reaches up and places a hand on my cheek. “For real, Ryet. Please, please don’t die for me. Please don’t leave me alone in this stupid, evil, unfair world.”

Is it magic? Have I somehow… done something to influence her feelings? Because this is what I wanted. Syrsee, desperately in love with me.

And now here she is, and… I sigh. “I promise. I won’t die for you unless it’s absolutely necessary. But let’s not romanticize this, OK? Let’s keep it real. This is important to me. I need to feel like this is real because so much of my life has been a lie.”

“Well, I can certainly relate to that.”

“Your hesitations about me, us, all of it—they were completely justified. I’m never going to stop wanting your blood. I’m always gonna crave your blood. And this need of mine, it’s a physical thing.”

She sucks in a breath and presses her lips together, like she’s trying to be brave. “I understand. But… what if you craved… kissing me?”

“What?”

“What if you craved… complimenting me?”

I smile down at her, feeling a new lightness in my heavy soul. And this lightness, once again, takes me back to that night outside the diner. When the snow was fresh, and her smile was new, and even though we had no idea where this was going, it was still good.

She doesn’t have to do this. She doesn’t have to ease my guilt. But that is what she’s trying to do. And this is a gift I don’t think I will be able to repay. Not because I don’t want to, but because there is nothing I could give her that would compare to the blood she’s giving me. There is no way for me to even out this debt I’m incurring. And she has every right to resent me for this eternal disparity that began, pretty much, the day we met. “It’s a small thing, Syrsee. Craving your lips and calling you pretty.”

“Maybe to you. But I would love it. You’d be the perfect boyfriend. All considerate, and polite—you really are polite.” I laugh. “And traditional. Not to mention handy.” She grins up at me. “If you craved me in any other way it would be amazing. So why is craving my blood so different?”

“You tell me.”

“Because I am insecure, Ryet. And acting like a child about it. Blaming you, instead of coming to terms with my feelings. I want to resent you because I can’t resent myself. But I’m the one who did this to you. And the hypocrisy of blaming you for my mistakes… well. It’s next-level deception.”

“How about we just call a do-over?”

“No. It’s not enough. I’m sorry, Ryet. And I need to apologize.”

I don’t want to accept her apology because it’s unnecessary. But it would put this quarrel to bed if I do. So I say, “I will forgive you if you forgive me.”

She smirks up at me. “What do you need to apologize for?”

I laugh. “All of it.”

“It’s not your fault, Ryet. And you were right, earlier. I fed you . I made this decision for you. And I’m truly, truly?—”

I cup her chin in my hand and press my thumb against her lips to silence her words. “It’s over. Don’t apologize again. You saved me, and even though it’s a little bit terrifying that wings are starting to grow out of my back, I’m glad you saved me. I haven’t had much happiness in my life, Syrsee. It’s actually been a pretty shitty ride so far. But this time with you? It means everything to me now. And I would not trade death for this.”

“OK.” She exhales and nods her head. “Do-over.”

I take her face in both my hands and then I lean in and kiss her properly. It’s long, and lingering, and there’s lots of tongue.

She pulls away first, blushing and breathy. Then she takes my hand and leads me towards the bedroom where her things are.

I follow, nearly grinning maniacally with this turn of events. “What about your dinner?”

“Ryet.” She says this over her shoulder as we pass through the door. “I’ve got all the time in the world to eat dinners.” Then she tugs me over to the bed, already taking her shirt off.

She’s not wearing a bra underneath so I’m immediately presented with her spectacular breasts.

She bites her lip a little as she unbuttons her jeans. Then wriggles them down her legs along with her underwear. So just a few seconds in, there she is. Standing before me, naked.

The craving is immediate. For her blood, for her body, maybe even for her soul, though I quickly push that last thought out of my mind. I walk over to her and her hands are already popping the button on my jeans. And by the time my mouth covers her in a kiss, she’s pushing them down my hips. Taking my cock in her hand. Pumping it, as if I need any priming. I want to throw her down on the bed and fuck her senseless and I’m just about to do that when the rational side of me kicks in.

I like hard, fast sex as much as anyone. But I don’t want this to end. I don’t want her to come to her senses. I don’t want to quickly and efficiently meet her needs so she can go back to making dinner.

I want this time with Syrsee to be never-ending. I want the sex to be slow and drawn out. I want us to become prisoners of time with nothing more to think about than the wanting.

So I push her back, letting her bump into the side of the bed. I catch her with one hand around her waist before she falls backwards and gently ease her down onto the mattress. She’s staring at me with half-lidded eyes. Waiting for what comes next.

I bend down, my hands on the inside of her knees as I open her legs. And then I lower my mouth down between them, and she gasps, and bucks, and moans as I lick her with my tongue. Taking my time, licking all her folds, flicking my tongue against her clit as I push a finger up inside her.

Her hands are gripping my hair as I do this, her lower legs rubbing up and down my lower back. I want to bite her—and the moment I think this she says, “Bite me, Ryet. Right here.” She’s pushing my head down her thigh. And I hear the blood pumping through the artery in her leg.

The bite happens so fast, the blood is already in my mouth before I can even make a conscious decision. Her orgasm is immediate, and loud, and long. She’s pulling my hair, then scraping her fingernails over my back and digging them into the thick muscles of my shoulders. She comes again. And this time, I pull back, blood dripping out of my mouth. Dripping down her leg as well. I watch her until she sighs, then I lick the wound I left on her leg until the blood begins to clot.

Her eyes are closed, like she’s tired and spent. But then she moans out the words, “More.”

I stand up, push her up the bed until she almost hits the headboard, and crawl up her body. The blood craving has subsided now, but a new one takes its place. The urge to be inside her. This new hunger causes a vibration inside me.

I spread her knees open wide, then ease up between them, my cock so hard and engorged, I have to restrain myself when I slip inside her wet pussy.

She feels so good, but it can get better.

And it’s like she’s reading my mind because Syrsee turns her head to the side and offers her neck to me. But even if she wasn’t offering, there would be no way in hell that I would not drink her right now. I would take it—her—I would take her blood any way I could get it.

It’s a sick thought, but it’s easy to push away because when I sink my teeth into her flesh, I’m not taking it. I’m giving her what she wants. As soon as I take the first pull of blood, her legs wrap around my hips and her hand is between my legs, sliding up under my balls so she can fondle them in her palm.

When I thrust forward, she throws her head back, moaning. And in this same moment I drink again.

I drink her, and I fuck her, and she comes all over me.