Brennan kicked at an empty can on the ground to avoid her earnest, dark eyes. He kept having to remind himself she wasn’t human. (He wasn’t, either.)
“I wasn’t completely on my own, I—” Brennan paused, shrugged. “—I knew a guy.”
“What kind of guy? Do you need us to cover anything up?”
The ease with which she made that offer threw him.
“No, it’s not—it’s just this guy that volunteered with the school blood drive? You don’t need to worry about it. I can take care of myself.”
“Don’t downplay it, Brennan,” Nellie said. She lifted a hand and let it drop, like she wanted to comfort him but knew better. “We messed up. I mean, we usually get to new-turn orientations faster, but Travis didn’t get the paperwork in on time.”
“Travis?”
“Travis is, like, Vampire Jesus,” Nellie said, waving her hand dismissively, as if that wasn’t the single most interesting thing she’d said all day. Brennan made a mental note to add that to his growing list of questions. “He’s the oldest and most powerful vampire in the New England clan, and he always has some sob story for why hehadto turn someone even though we have strict rules in place for population control and—”
“Sorry, Travis is the person who turned me?”
Nellie blinked. “Yeah. You and Dom. We don’t allow new turns often, but yours were special situations.”
“What are special situations?”
“Well, like yours. If someone would otherwise die and turning them is a second chance at life. There are some exceptions for turning loved ones or friends. All of this is outlined in the pamphlets, and there’s typically an approvals process. Travis tends to ask forgiveness instead of permission.”
A second chance at life? That was a weird way to look at ruining Brennan’s life. Brennan didn’t know how to process that he now had a name for the person who turned him. That girl, Dom, was like… a vampire sister. Nellie and Sunny were vampire bureaucrats. It was a lot to unpack.
“Does Travis lead the clan with you guys?” Brennan asked.
“Oh god, no.” Nellie laughed. “Well, he used to, ages ago, but now he does his own thing.”
“Can I meet him?”
“That’s not the best idea,” Nellie said. Before Brennan had the chance to protest, Nellie continued, “But look, one of our stations is near here. I can show you how the blood caches work, and then you can go, if you want. None of us are going to force you to do anything.”
Brennan wanted to say no, gazing longingly at the steps leading downto the subway. But he also took in Nellie, a person who needed blood to survive, like Brennan. Like Brennan always had, technically.
“Fine,” Brennan said.
Nellie pressed her lips together, not satisfied, but maybe a bit appeased, and she tucked her flask into her bag before leading the way out of the alley.
“It’s only a few minutes’ walk,” she said, conversational, and in the same breath, “You really didn’t hurt anyone this whole time?”
Brennan flinched like she’d slapped him, his steps faltering while she turned to look at him over her shoulder. “No. I’m not—I’m not amonster.”
Unless I am,a part of Brennan’s brain offered, thinking of the girl who had gone missing the day he turned. But before he could go down that line of thinking, Nellie’s eyes went fierce and narrow and when she spoke, her voice was low with warning.
“Watch it with that word,” she said.
Oh my god,Brennan thought,there’s vampire discourse.His life was a nightmare.
But more importantly—
“There’s this girl missing at my school,” Brennan said instead. “Was it vampire-related? Should I be worried?”
“I’ll make sure Sunny looks into it,” Nellie said. “That’s her jurisdiction. She makes sure no one suspects vampires in anything.”
“But what about the girl? What if Dom killed her?”
What ifhekilled her?No, nope, no.
