Page 29 of Blind Bite
Felicity stood up, fury radiating from her. “James Alexander Everthorn, you can’t just throw her out the door!”
“What do you want from me, Felicity, teach her Vampiring 101? I didn’t exactly plan for this!”
“Then maybe keep your fangs to yourself next time you’re feeling frisky!” she snapped. “I’m not cleaning up after you this time, James,” Felicity said. “This is your responsibility. If you’re gonna send her home, you better give her enough blood to last until you decide to help her understand what her life is now.” She turned to me and handed me a business card. “Here’s my number. Call me if this idiot ghosts you—and trust me, he has centuries of experience ghosting women.”
“At least I’m consistent,” Jamie muttered.
“So, I’m just supposed to pretend everything’s normal while I’m secretly a blood-drinking monster?” I asked, voice cracking.
“Welcome to adulthood,” Jamie said with a smirk. “Faking every day until you figure out what you’re supposed to be doing.”
Chapter Twenty
I slipped into our apartment at 5:42 AM, my new and improved vision helped me navigate the darkness like it was the middle of the day. The dark sky outside threatened to lighten soon, but thanks to the one helpful thing Jamie told me, I was able to avoid becoming a crispy vamp.
Do vampires call themselves vamps? I made a mental note to look it up. On second thought, maybe it would be better to ask Felicity.
My heart hammered in my chest. Wait—could vampires’ hearts still beat? Mine was, well, at least I thought it was. Hopefully, the rise and fall of my chest still looked normal. I thought it’d be hard to pretend to breathe, but maybe I was alive recently enough that it still looked natural. Things had to appear normal.
Except I was no longer normal.
Is that how they came up with the word ‘paranormal’?
Another mental note for another day. As of now, I had too much on my plate as it was.
Amelie’s familiar snoring rumbled from her bedroom. Thank god. I crept past her door, wincing at every tiny creak of the floorboards. Everything sounded so much louder now. I could hear the neighbors upstairs breathing and the swoosh of their blood flowing through their veins.
The thought of blood made my stomach ache. What the actual hell?
The bathroom light felt like needles in my eyes when I flipped the switch. I stared at my reflection and nearly fainted. Blood crusted around my mouth, smeared across my chin, and spattered my dress like an abstract painting. I looked like I’d lost a fight with a cherry slushie machine.
After getting the shower started, I stripped and stuffed my clothes into a garbage bag I found under the sink, tying it tightly.
Evidence.
I was disposing of evidence.
Like a murder.
Except I was the victim. Was I an accomplice to my own murder?
Steam filled the room. The shower water felt strange on my skin—neither hot nor cold, just... present. I scrubbed until my skin turned pink, watching red swirl down the drain. My tongue kept finding my new fangs, which had retracted somewhat but still felt alien in my mouth.
All was still silent as I crept into my bedroom wearing my fluffy black towel, my bag of horrors in hand. I stuffed it into the back of my closet and carefully shut the door. I’d have to figure out how to get rid of it. We didn’t have a fireplace to burn them. Maybe I could somehow sneak it to the next bonfire one of the fraternities was sure to throw. Opening my dresser, I found my comfiest pajamas and slid them over my clean skin. The plush of the fabric was a comfort on what was now officially the worst night of my life. I’d take a hundred great dates that ghosted me over turning into the undead. I crawled into bed just as dawn broke. Sleep claimed me instantly, like someone had flipped a switch.
“LILITH!” Amelie’s voice and pounding fist jerked me awake. “I’ve gotta leave for work soon, but I want all the dirty details! Martha said the guy from last night was the hottest man she’s ever seen... and she doesn’t even like men!”
Like a siren’s song, the heavenly scent of her blood called to me. My fangs instantly ached, my need for more overwhelmed me. Just a little taste...
No, no, I would not bite my best friend. I wouldn’t bite anyone, I couldn’t. If there was an ethical way to this, I’d find it. First, I needed to survive until she left for work, the temptation was almost too much to bear.
The sunlight streaming through my curtains made my skin prickle painfully. As a panel shifted, one of the soft rays touched me. I hissed—actually hissed—and buried myself deeper under the covers. Blackout curtains were going to need to be overnighted.
“I’m sick,” I croaked, not entirely faking the misery in my voice. “Food poisoning or something.”
“Bullshit! You’re hiding from me because you did something naughty with Speed Dating Guy! Spill.”
“Seriously, Ames. I’m gonna puke if I move.”
