Page 28 of Blind Bite
Jamie sighed dramatically. “Fine. You’re a vampire now. Congratulations. Welcome to eternal life. Don’t go in the sun. You can eat garlic if you don’t mind the bad breath. Drink blood. The end.”
My jaw dropped. “I’m a what?”
“A vampire,” Felicity said, sounding bored. “James bit you and then—because he’s an irresponsible ass—nearly drained you completely and let you ingest some of his blood.”
“I didn’t let her taste my blood. She fucking bit me!”
“Does it fucking matter when the end result is the same?” Felicity demanded.
I laughed. It started as a giggle and grew into hysterical cackling. “Right. I suppose you’re also the Tooth Fairy as well.”
Jamie rolled his eyes. “Run your tongue over your teeth again.”
I complied. There they were—fangs. Actual fangs. I jumped up from the couch and stumbled to the nearest reflective surface—a decorative mirror on the wall. Except...
“I won’t be able to see myself,” I whispered, terror rising in my throat.
“That’s a myth,” Jamie said dismissively. “The mirror thing. You’ll show up in photos too, before you ask.”
He was right. My hair was a tangled mess, clotted with blood. The bite marks that should have marred my neck weren’t there. And two fangs adorned my new smile.
I spun around. “This can’t be happening. Vampires aren’t real!”
“Says the girl who just downed a cup of AB negative and grew fangs,” Jamie muttered.
My stomach lurched. “That was blood? I drank blood?” Why wasn’t it revolting, what was wrong with me? I sank back onto the couch, my head spinning.
Felicity sat beside me. “It’s part of the deal. The thing that we crave tends to be utterly delicious. Things get easier. The transition is the hardest part.”
“Transition?” I squeaked. “Oh my god, am I going to fucking sparkle in the sun?” I didn’t want to look like some glittering pixie every time I went outside.
Jamie paced the room. “Your body is changing. You’re dead, but alive. You’ll need blood to survive. Sunlight will burn you—like turn you to ash. Even filtered it can hurt like hell. Silver’s reserved for our fluffy friends. Crosses and churches are bullshit. Stake through the heart will kill you, but it would kill anyone. Continue to breathe even thought you don’t need the oxygen anymore. Being undead does have it’s perks sometimes.”
“This is insane,” I mumbled.
“It might be easier,” Felicity said, “if we stage your death.”
“WHAT?” I jumped to my feet.
“Standard procedure,” Jamie said with a shrug. “Fake your death, disappear, start over somewhere new every few decades when people notice you’re not aging.”
“No!” I shouted. “Absolutely not! I can’t do that to my parents. Or Amelie. They’d be devastated!”
“It’s cleaner that way,” Jamie argued.
“I don’t care! I’m not faking my death!”
Felicity shot Jamie another look. “There are other alternatives, but we’d just be delaying the inevitable.”
Jamie threw up his hands. “Fine. Whatever. Pretend you’re sick for a few days. Stay inside. Don’t go out at all. Don’t eat food—you’ll just throw it up right now. And for God’s sake, don’t bite anyone.”
“How am I supposed to explain this to people?” I gestured wildly at myself.
“You don’t,” Jamie said flatly. “That’s the first rule. Humans don’t know about us.”
“But I was human until you made me your midnight snack!”
“Look, I’ll reach out once I’m ready to deal with...” he waved vaguely in my direction, “all of this.”
