Page 65 of Accidental Vampire

“The Scion bond, though, that’s some real magical shit that can’t be undone, ever. So don’t fuck him, don’t fuck anyone, unless you are really fucking sure.”

“Yeah, I was kind of hoping the no sex thing was an elaborate prank.”

“Sorry, Princess.” He looked up at the sky again. “You’ve got a couple hours till dawn. The sunlight won’t kill you, but it will be massively unpleasant. That’s another thing the vampire books lie about.”

“OK.” I followed his eyes up to the sky. “Thanks for the chat.”

“Cunt, by the way, is the answer?”

“What?”

“You’re a cunt, not a hopeless romantic. There should always be hope in romance.”

He gave me a jaunty salute and walked through the door.

THIRTY-NINE

SHAW

Sugar’s hands were shaking around the glossy spaghetti mess of tubing.

“Shaw.” He looked over at me, tearing himself to shreds at his failure to get an IV into the girl. I nodded to encourage him.

He sat down next to her and waited for her gaze to settle on him. He knew how this had to go. It was important for trauma survivors to have agency and feel in control.

“Emily,” his voice was more solid than his hands, “Shaw has hundreds of years of experience doing this.”

“He’s a…” She licked her lips and tried not to let her eyes dart to me.

I hung by the door, letting my posture be as relaxed as possible. Sometimes you just had to let people be in their trauma. I had to let the girl sit there and figure it out. Just like I had to let Tiffany make her own decision to jump or not. The echoes of that conversation were going to abuse me for endless nights. I had no doubts now that Tiffany would survive being a vampire. Lachlan was another story. He chose well, in finding Tiffany, but she was going to rock his shit, and that was a major fucking problem.

Sugar caught my eye, pleading silently for help. I gave him a nod. He had to work this out for himself, find his strength in this. Sugar would get the job done, eventually. The IV was just the first step. I watched him dig deep to pull up some patience. He wanted this over with as soon as possible. Pushing her too hard would backfire.

“Yeah, a vamp. He’s one of the good ones, I swear.”

That kid’s faith in me burned. I didn’t deserve it. Just like I didn’t deserve the respect Tiffany so easily found for me.

“Do I have to?” Emily’s fingers were twisting the ends of her hair into knots. It was the color of late summer wheat. It would undoubtedly have the same dry, brittle texture. She was dirty around the edges. Someone had hosed her down but not let her attend to herself. Dirt was caked in the creases of her fingers.

“No. But…” Sugar steeled himself. Sugar was a survivor. He knew that the unvarnished truth was a necessity. “You’re not in good shape, Emily.” She folded her arms across her chest to hide the wounds. “Drinking water isn’t going to be enough to manage the dehydration. And,” he looked at me to confirm the worst, “we… I think we have to get you medicine sooner rather than later.”

“Misty could…” I kept my voice soft, but she still jumped. I wanted to give him an out, ease off some of the responsibility. He wasn’t much older than Emily. I didn’t want to pushhimto a breaking point, either. Everyone was breaking tonight. I was jealous. I’d never have the luxury of losing myself in the past or my worries. Misty could take over. She was an old pro at fixing broken things. All the Snacks were quite adept at treating blood loss. Not that any of us were careless, any sort of blood donation had a physical price.

“No.” His refusal was fierce. Desperation for a good outcome, not faith in my skills, was the emotion painting Sugar’s face right now. And he wasn’t wrong. I’ve been pushing intravenous fluids into mortals for a century now.

Unsurprisingly, Sugar’s patience became infinite when there was something on the line. If only he could show himself that kind of grace. He let her struggle with accepting help from the kinds of foul creatures that harmed her. That might or might not help her heal. It was too early to tell. Finally, she gave a small nod. Sugar shifted his weight to make room for me, and Emily snatched his hand in a white-knuckled grip.

“Stay, Sugar. I’ll manage.”

I sat on the floor at Emily’s feet and gently took her hand in mine. Moving slow, making myself as small as possible, I did not want to push her over the edge. I wouldn’t be able to pull her back with a hand fisted in her shirt.

Her forearm, wrist, and the crook of her elbow were mincemeat, covered in bite marks in various stages of healing. Her infinity tattoo was particularly abused, lost behind wounds. Her neck was unmarred. That wasn’t a good sign. It meant someone had big, terrible, gruesome plans for her. Vamps always saved the tenderest bit, the neck, for last. The anger at this kind of abuse smoldered within me. It was an old rage, no longer white-hot, but no less potent. I didn’t need to see her arm to know that there was infection simmering; I could smell it, sweet and rotten, clinging to her.

Emily squeezed her eyes shut, gathering every ounce of courage she could, and thrust her arm at me. Gently, I placed her hand on her knee, letting my fingertips linger on her pulse. It raced, obviously, but it wasn’t weak. Her temp was elevated too. She still could crash in the blink of an eye. The IV would have to go into the back of her hand, her arm was just too chewed. It would hurt more. Sugar would worry and fuss over that. The angle I was at was not ideal, but I had little trouble targeting her vein and inserting the needle. I could hear the blood moving in her veins as clearly as I could see it.

She was holding her breath. I was swift and efficient, crumpling sterile wrappers and smoothing white tape over the back of her hand before her breathing was taxed. No “there, there dear” pats to her knee. The less a vampire touched her, the better at this stage. Maybe forever. I handed the saline bag to Sugar, who had pulled over an antique coat rack. He hung it high to let gravity do its thing.

Now it was my turn to wait for her to meet my eyes. Fear pounded at the vein in her temple. Her skin was pale and paper thin. Her emotions racing through her blood were so obvious, alluring, impossible to ignore, if that was your predilection.

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