Page 63 of Dear Mr. Vampire

“The Castle?”

“Yes.”

“What am I doing here?” She paused and I could see she was thinking. “Did you drug me?”

“Yes.” I tried to keep my tone even.

“Why?”

“You were afraid. I needed you to calm down. You probably would call the police. I couldn’t have that.”

She released a sigh. “I saw you?—”

“You saw me.” I looked away briefly. “The real me.”

Chanel’s mouth opened and closed. She moistened her top lip with her tongue. Her face was strained. “Was that— real? Or was that drugs too? Did you drug me then—? What? I was hallucinating right, from drugs?”

“No.” I said curtly.

“No?” Her voice raised an octave. “It seemed so real.”

“Yes.” Only a few words crept out of me at a time. I felt encased in cement. Something was crushing me, holding me, and freezing more than my age.

“Why am I here? Did you kidnap me?”

“Yes, something like that. I had to keep you safe.”

“Why? We were supposed to go to your place downtown.”

“But we didn’t.”

“Why?” She asked.

“I had to take you away from the scene of the crime.”

Chanel inhaled and exhaled. She was thinking. “Lonzo, is he dead?”

“Yes.”

“You killed him?”

“Yes.” I looked away, recalling the brutal nature of last night’s events.

“Zand! Look at me.” It appeared she reached her limit with my dry answers. I looked her in her eyes because she commanded it. “I saw you turn into something. I don’t think it was a dream.”

“It wasn’t a dream. You saw me, the real me.”

“Your teeth were, your eyes were red. There was blood everywhere. You threw Lonzo across the room like he weighed nothing. You, you, oh god. You were acting like a?—”

“Monster.” I finished her sentence.

“No, a vampire.”

“Monster, vampire. They’re all the same. We’re all the same. Now you know what I am.”

“You’re a vampire.” She said it with a tinge of uncertainty. She didn’t trust her own recollections.

“Yes, I am a vampire.”