6
You Owe Me
The last few miles of the drive were a harrowing race with extinction.
Shane’s Uncle Terry cursed under his breath and sweated profusely, flooring the accelerator and taking curves at terrifying speed. I prayed we wouldn’t tip over and be forced out into the quickly approaching daylight—and that the police didn’t notice his erratic driving and pull us over.
As the sky lightened, I could see the man’s face in the mirror more clearly. The gray tint of his skin.
He was ill. A sense of unease tightened my muscles as a suspicion developed about the “favor” he planned to ask.
Not that. Please not that.
We pulled into the garage of a nice suburban home in Davis just before the sun crested the horizon. When the garage door lowered, we all climbed out of the SUV, and Terry invited us into the house.
Once inside, we stood in the kitchen together, looking around in awkward silence. It was one of those open concept homes where you could see the living area from the kitchen. There was light wood furniture and a large TV set over the fireplace.
Though there were some feminine touches like throw pillows on the sofa and a pair of matching lamps on the side tables flanking it, everything looked slightly dated, as if perhaps the woman of the house hadn’t lived there in some time.
I’d noted some major differences between human homes and vampire homes. For instance, windows that weren’t covered by drapes or blinds.
Also, kitchens in vampire homes were typically spotless, unused as they were for food preparation.
This kitchen smelled like fish. I could tell from my friends’ reactions they noticed it too and weren’t any more thrilled at the offensive odor than I was.
They were also exhausted, as was I. It had been a long night, and even on a regular day, most vampires are overcome by fatigue at sunup.
“So what can we do for you gentlemen?” Margaret asked.
At the moment, she seemed the strongest of us all, less affected by the dawning day than the rest because of the double-portion blood ration she’d ingested earlier.
“Let’s have a seat in the living room, and we’ll discuss it.” Terry motioned toward the couch and the two chairs facing it.
Taking care to steer clear of the windows, we all headed for the furniture grouping in the center of the room.
Once we were seated, Terry cleared his throat. “So... I know you’re wondering why we did what we did, breaking you out of that place. My brother, and my nephew, and my friend Jeff here—they were helping me. I’m dying. I’ve got aggressive pancreatic cancer, and my doctors tell me I’ve only got a few months left. Maybe weeks.”
Oh no.It was what I’d suspected. He was going to ask us to turn him.
Dread slid down my backbone like an icy breeze. Long before I’d gone to work for Sadie, I’d made a personal pledge not to bite any humans—under any circumstances. It was one of the chief reasons I’d had to leave the vampire sanctuary in Virginia.
It had been easy for me to sign the no-bite agreement required of every vampire who worked at the VHC. Kelly and Heather had signed it too.
Even if they hadn’t, they literally weren’t capable of turning a human. I might have been—my capabilities hadn’t been tested.
In any case, turning someone was a lot more complicated than most humans realized. Of course we couldn’t explain to these humanshowit was actually done—sharing that information was against vampire law.
“I’m not ready to die,” he went on. “I want to become like you, a vampire.”
“No,” I said at the same time Kelly said, “We can’t.”
“Absolutely not,” Margaret added.
Terry’s face went from humble to furious in a matter of seconds. “You have to. You owe me.”
Glenn stood and towered over us in our seated positions on the sofa. “How can you refuse to help my brother after we saved you?”
“It’s illegal,” I said.