Page 2 of Violence and Vice

I feel amazing.

I feel capable.

I feel fucking divine.

The emptied blood bag drops from my hand to the floor. I take in a deep breath, sorting through all the different smells. Fuck, it’s like I’m on massive sensory overload. I can’t take everything in fast enough, yet I know it’s only been… fifty-one seconds since I opened my eyes. But the smell… It’s sterile, like medicine and bleach. There’s also the scent of animals—rats. I smell skin, and shampoo, and perfume. I smell exhaust pumping through the ventilation system, though it’s faint. I smell… New York City. I smell… everything.

My eyes slide open, and it’s like I’ve needed glasses my entire life but never knew it. Now I’ve suddenly got them, and I canseeeverything. Every speck of dust floating in the air, every fingerprint on the glass, every single scuff on the floor.

My vision is crystal clear, the entire world around me in incredible detail.

“How do you feel, Lana?”

My eyes rip over to the two women staring at me with wary anticipation. And where adrenaline was raging through my body just moments ago, now I feel equilibrium settling in my veins.

“What the hell happened to me?” The words come out a little raspy but with a profound clarity, with a new kind of… authority.

Clementine glances at Florence, her expression worried and a little doubtful.

“I’ll explain it all,” Florence says, and there’s a mix of fear and excited curiosity filling her eyes. “But first, I need to know. How are you feeling? Thirsty? Stable?”

I want to scoff at that last question, but considering everything that’s happened in the last few moments since I woke up, I guess it’s reasonable.

“I’m not thirsty,” I say, going with her very literal questions, taking things one at a time. “Which doesn’t seem right. I’ve seen Ares drink four of these things at a time. One and a half, and I’m good?”

A little smirk starts pulling at the corner of Florence’s mouth. “You’re not a Born, Lana.”

And it all starts hitting me like tidal waves.

“You turned me,” I say. Despite the rising torrent of emotion inside me, my voice is smooth, strong.

Florence doesn’t blink. “You were going to die. I couldn’t let that happen. The damage… what Giovanni did… the hospital wouldn’t have been able to fix that. But regeneration is the basis of what I created.”

The breath exhales out of me.

Fuck. I almost forgot. It almost seems like a distant memory, yet it’s right there, playing out in my mind. Giovanni gutted me in retaliation for what Ares did to his son. He split me open like an animal. And Florence—Florence made a choice.

She saved me.

“So, what am I?” I ask, needing some kind of clarity. I need her to say it.

I can feel the evidence in every inch of this new body. But I need her to say it.

Florence’s expression settles into something calm and confident, just like she always is. “You’re the first of your kind, Lana. A Made vampire.”

Maybe I should feel anger. Fear. Doubt.

I didn’t make this choice. I never said yes. And now I’m something entirely different.

Instead, I feel… invincible.

I look down at my hands, flexing my fingers. I swear, there’s power humming through my veins. My entire body feels as if it’s buzzing with energy, like something coiled and ready to release.

A Made vampire.

Holy shit.

“How do you feel?” Florence asks again.