Page 63 of Hot Blooded
Finally, I pull my wrist back, rip off a strip of my shirt and wrap my wound. I’m sure it’s already healing, but I need to hide the evidence from Tressa, from myself.
“What now?” Tressa asks, voice small and yet full of what, wonder?
“Now we wait for him to die,” I say in a somber tone.
“Die?” she questions, her voice alarmed.
“Yes. He must die from his human life. If the process is successful, he will awake again. The time range differs. Could be a few minutes, some take a few hours. I’ll take him inside to rest.” I keep my voice as calm as I can, but inside I’m vibrating with anxiety.
If Henrick wakes up right now, he’d go after Tressa in a heartbeat to feast off her. Young ones are bloodthirsty,unreasonable. It takes time for them to calm down. I’ve got more stamina than him, because of my age and speed, but I still don’t want to chance it. His strength will be incredible right at the beginning. And I can’t risk Tressa.
“Why don’t you go inside to change, and we’ll meet in the kitchen for some tea. I’ll get Henrick settled in a guest room.”
***
Tressa’s shaken up all through her cup of chamomile, with trembling hands and wide, worried eyes. And later, she barely touches her dinner.
Together, we’re plagued by confusion and sadness, and we hardly speak. The boy has lost his life, but he is going to gain a new one. It’s something, I guess.
“I’m going to check on Henrick before bed. Will you be okay for a few minutes?” I brush a kiss on her cheek. She’s been zombie-like for hours, sitting next to me on the couch, staring off into space.
“I’m coming with you,” she decides.
Not that I want to decide things for her, but I am afraid for her to see him in this state. “He’s going to be in bad shape,” I warn.
“I can take it.” She places her hands on her hips. I pull her face to mine and give her a soft kiss. My determined girl.
“Of course. Follow me,” I grab her hand in mine. I’m not sure if it’s more to comfort her, or as a comfort to myself at this point. I hold it tight.
We stalk silently down the hall. There is no noise coming from the room I’ve placed Henrick in, which is possibly a good sign. As we near the door, I stop in my tracks. “Stand back here, let me check first.”
I expect her to argue, but she doesn’t. She folds her arms protectively over her chest. Does she instinctively realize the danger he poses to her?
When I pull the door open just a crack, I can see he’s lying still in the bed, right where I placed him. Hands still folded across his stomach.
Turning back to Tressa, I nod for her to follow. She stands next to me in the doorway, so close we’re touching. Her warmth gives me strength I haven’t realized I need.
Her mouth pulls into a tight line as her brows furrow in worry. “How is he? Will he be okay?” Her voice is a whisper.
“Well, it’s difficult to say. He’s unconscious right now. Which is a good thing,” I speculate softly as I wrap my arm around her shoulders, squeezing her in my hand.
“Why is that a good thing?” she queries out of what I presume is a mix of concern and curiosity.
Leaning in to smell her hair, but keeping my eyes trained on Henrick should he wake, I reflect on my own experience. “Turning is not a pleasant feeling.”
“It’s painful?” The sympathy in her voice unmistakable. Whether she’s thinking of pain I may have gone through, or what’s to come for Henrick, I cannot say.
“Unfortunately, yes.” I shudder at the memory.
Tressa wraps her arm around my waist. “What will happen to him?”
“Come.” I motion for her to follow me, and she does.
Closing his door, I turn the lock and pocket the key.
I keep my hold on Tressa as I guide us back to our bedroom. She may not admit it, but I can see just how tired she is after today’s events.
“First, he’ll wake up, likely sometime tomorrow, at his pace. He’ll be disoriented. Confused.Veryhungry.” I stop on my last words to emphasize the warning.
