Page 103 of By the Pint

“I’m afraid we can’t wait around for your friend. I know his name is on the form to turn you, but there are plenty of vampires here who can finish”—finish?—“the job should it come to it. Something has happened to you, and we’ll do some investigating while you’re under, but we need to get as much of this procedure done as quickly as possible. There really is no time to waste, Mr Freckleman. If we don’t hurry, it may be too late.”

I opened my eyes and saw a watery version of Nina perched on the coffee table. Two more vampires stood like sentinels beside her. I must have been very sick because I could smell everything. The plastic of their aprons, the rubber of their gloves, the caffeinated blood they had drunk before entering my room. One of them retrieved a jangling trolley, pulling it inside. The door snicked shut, the lock slid across. Killian adjusted his position on the couch and the creak of the leather sounded like a firework detonating in the dead of night.

“This is Dr Vladimir the Wrangler and Dr Yelena the Realist. They’ll be assisting me this evening,” said Nina. She smoothed down the front of her scrubs and tucked her lanyard into her breast pocket. The sounds were nails down a chalkboard.

I was on the edge of complete sensory overload. Could smell the anaesthetics and anti-bac wipes and vials of blood and the detergent the clinic used to clean the uniforms. I wretched, and Nina shoved a paper bowl into my fists. Nothing came up.

“If it’s okay with you, we’ll get started? I’ve got a lot to read here and every second we waste on this arbitrary bullshit—excuse my language, I’m just … I’m fairly stressed. Actually, Vlad, Yel, can you bring the gurney through? I don’t think we’ll make it to the bedroom.” Nina picked up a clipboard from the coffee table and retrieved a pen from above her ear.

Beside me, I felt Killian nod his confirmation. Our confirmation, since I could no longer lift my head. Not that I wanted to agree, but the only thing I seemed to be able to move was my eyes. Even they were heavy and drifted in and out of focus. What I wanted to do, what I needed, was to see Dima. Tell him I’d changed my mind. Get him to carry me back home and lay me down in his bed and put a compress on my head or spoon feed me soup and nurse me back to health.

I wretched again. Okay, no soup.

“Great,” Nina said. She motioned for the other vampires to stand beside her and began speed reading from her clipboard. “I, the undersigned, hereby concur that I am of sound body and mind, and am wilfully entering into a legally binding, and irrevocable contract into deathlessness.

“That I have been read a non-exhaustive list of procedural risks, and that every turning experience is different. I hereby waive my rights to seek compensation should anything not meet my expectations. And I hereby acknowledge that should I die during turning, my spirit is not permitted to haunt the premises.

“I have been made aware of Total Identity Loss, or TIL for short, and therefore agree to denounce my former human life and all connections made—”

Wait—I tried to say, but we were both cut off as the door to my suite flew open with such ferocity it slammed into and bounced off the wall.

What the fuck? That was locked,Nina thought. She got to her feet. “You may enter.”

Someone rushed into the room, cloak swishing, smoky, metallic scent.

“Dima!” I said, or thought I said.

And he was on his knees in front of me. Blocking out Nina from my view.

Moonflower!“What’s wrong with him?!” he yelled.Baby.Dima cradled my cheeks in his hands and kissed my cold sweaty forehead. He pulled my face away from his and gazed into my eyes. “Oh my gods,” he whispered.

I love you, Dima, take me home,I told him, but Nina spoke over me. “He’s dying.”

“But he has cancer. It said five to eight years on the website,” Killian said, the confusion evident in his voice. “It doesn’t kill a person that quickly, right? Like, I literally only just told him.”

“It’s not the cancer,” Nina said, impatiently, as though Killian was being dim. “His body is rejecting life.”

“What can we do?” Dima said. I could no longer lift my eyelids to see him. His body was close to mine. Perhaps pressed against it. The inside of my mind span like the teacup rides at Gryphon World.

“I’m not sure there’s much we can do,” said Nina, a sad or resigned edge to her voice. But like everything else, the clarity of sound and smell were slipping away from me.

I’ve changed my mind, Dima. I love you. Please, let’s go back to the hotel.

I love you so much,Dima whispered back.So, so much. I’ll see you on the other side, yeah?

There was a flurry of movement around me. Somebody — I didn’t know who — grabbed my wrist. “No pulse.”

“Can’t get the stent in. Needle snapped.”

“He’s stopped breathing.”

“Body temp, thirty-two. Thirty-one. Thirty.”

“Get him on the gurney.”

And then everything went black. The last thing I felt was Dima’s lips pressed against my forehead. He no longer felt cold. He felt right. And the last thing I heard was his voice in my head.

Don’t forget me.

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