Page 50 of My Road Trip with a Vampire: Season One
“I’m sorry for whatever happened to you,” I whisper to the ghost, hoping he’s still nearby. He deserves to be at rest.
I'm definitely googling recent deaths in the area when we leave this place. If Faith is hiding bodies, then she needs to be investigated. I pull my hand back to reach for my salt, but the corpse’s eyes snap open, and he grabs my wrist.
I don’t have time to think about what’s happening because I’m too busy screaming as he picks me up and pins me in his coffin, baring his sharp fangs as he smiles.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Beatrice,” he says. “I’ve been so lost, and now you can help me.”
“Dennis!”
I scream at the top of my lungs as the strange vampire sinks his teeth into my neck, sucking until my vision starts to go black around the edges. The biting pain begins to recede. Waves of heat climb over my body, making my head feel light. It almost feels good, like I’m swimming on a hot day. I know I’ll die like this, but at least it doesn’t hurt.
“I can’t see anything,” the vampire says, pulling back, and licking his fangs. “Tell me how you see the veil.”
“I…don’t know,” I whisper, unable to lift my head. “I see it now.”
It dances in front of me, my world going gray.
“Tell me what you see.”
I groan and sputter. I can’t. I can’t form words.
I close my eyes. It’s dark in here.
“Beatrice!” A velvety voice calls to me. “Don’t move!” Opening my eyes takes all of my energy, but I can see the blur of Dennis and something sharp right in front of my chest.A stake, I think before warmth splatters all over me. The looming figure between Dennis and me dissolves into goop.
Dennis scoops me up, shaking me gently. He bites his wrist, and blood seeps out of the wound.
“Drink,” he orders, holding his arm above my mouth. I turn my head.
“Mmmno.” It’s the only protest I can manage.
“I have to get you out of here. We’ll have a whole group of hunters on us in a few minutes.”
I start to heave when the metallic taste hits my tongue.
“Drink, or you’ll die.”
I have nothing left in me to fight. I swallow because it’s all I can do.
“Good girl,” he growls, pulling me close. The world fades in and out of focus as he tears off into the night with me against his chest.
19
BLATHER, RINSE, REPEAT
“Stay with me, Beatrice.”
Dennis’ voice travels through the sound of blood funneling through my brain. Stretches of darkness are broken up by scraps of reality; my body bouncing in his arms, the layer of red slime–blood—that coats his chest and my face. There’s the migraine finally shattering through my skull, the swing of an iron gate, and Dennis pleading in my ear.
“Try to keep it down,” he says, and I hear a car door opening and a seat belt clicking into place. I’m leaning back at an awkward angle, and my head rolls against the leather seat.
I realize he’s talking about the blood I drank as my body bucks against a rolling wave of nausea.
The car starts, and we take off so fast that I have to force my eyes shut to stop the world from spinning around me. My head hurts so much that no amount of darkness can blot out the bright searing pain that presses at the back of my eyes.
“Fuck, Beatrice. Your meds are at Faith’s house.” There’s a dull thud of his fist hitting the steering wheel. “I’ll call some in for you.”
Someone moans.
