THE LARGE KITCHEN BOASTED WIDE French doors that led out to a sheltered outdoor lounge and barbecue area, and beyond that, a massive turquoise–colored pool that was shaped like a kidney. I walked through the open doors and was hit by the pleasant smell of pepperoni and cooking dough. Sam stood in front of a red metal pizza oven, with a paddle in his hands. I watched in all my starving awe as he scraped a pizza from the bottom of the oven and slid it onto a plate.
He cut the pizza into eight slices and gestured for me to sit at the long outdoor table. It was smooth on top but the sides were uneven, as if it had been carved from a single tree trunk. I sat across from Sam and took a piece of pizza. “Ow!” A string of molten cheese stuck to my thumb. I decided to let the pizza cool for a minute.
“So, you live here?” I asked.
Sam nodded as he took a bite of pizza, apparently unperturbed by the molten lava cheese that covered it.
“And you and that Ivy chick, you’re a thing?”
He laughed with a mouthful of food, I guess because I referred to her as a chick. “Mmm–hmm.”
“How long have you been a vampire?” I asked.
“How do you know I’m a vampire?” he replied.
I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not sure,” I answered. “I just do.”
“Sixteen years,” he said, going for a second slice. “Since the summer of ’97.”
“Sounds like a song,” I said, taking a tentative bite of pizza. It was good. Gooey and cheesy, with just the right amount of pepperoni on top. My stomach growled loudly.
“Almost. That’s the ‘Summer of ’69’.”
I guessed he looked a little older than me, twenty maybe, and counted back in my head. “So, you’re like … thirty—something now?” He was the best looking thirty-something-year-old I’d ever laid eyes on, that’s for sure. He made Ryan look like a regular dude. What was with all the vampires being amazingly good looking?
“I guess,” he replied, wiping his fingers on a paper napkin. “I was twenty–one when I was Turned. That makes me thirty–seven next month.”
I tilted my head curiously. “Do you feel twenty–one? Or do you feel almost thirty–seven?”
Sam shrugged. “I guess I don’t really feel any particular age. I’m pretty young for a vampire. Ivy’s seven hundred years old.”
I raised my eyebrows. “That’s why she’s a raging bitch,” I guessed.
Sam laughed. “Grumpy, and with excellent hearing, as well. You’ve been warned.”
“Right. So, can you explain to me how this virus actually works? I mean, I still don’t really believe all of this, but you know, just humor me.”
Sam nodded. “Sure, okay. Come down to the basement and I’ll show you a couple of DNA models I’ve made.”
I stiffened at the mention of a basement, and dropped my half–eaten pizza slice. A basement. Somewhere without windows. Somewhere I could be locked. Where nobody could hear me scream.
“I’ll just talk you through it out here,” Sam said swiftly, noticing my reaction. I relaxed again, taking a breath. It was just ridiculous to think that I no longer needed to breathe.
“Do you want the vampire folklore version or the scientific version?” he asked.
I shrugged, picking up my pizza again. “Hit me with both,” I replied. “It can’t hurt.”
“Okay. Vampire folklore first. Back in the eleventh century, this guy is walking down an alleyway, when he’s attacked by a mob of drunks. They stab him and leave him for dead. This guy is calling out for help, calling for Jesus or God, but he’s clearly bleeding to death. So, anyway, then he starts calling out for anyone to help, and this beautiful woman appears in front of him out of nowhere.
“He begs this woman to help him, and she says she will, for a price. He’ll do anything to avoid dying, so he agrees. He thinks she’s an angel and agrees to give her ownership of his soul.
“She feeds him her blood, and he lives. He falls in love with her instantly. It’s only later on that she tells him the truth—she’s a demon on day–release from hell, or something like that. And he’s just become the first human to be Turned into a vampire through drinking her demon blood.”
“That sounds screwed up,” I said, pushing my plate away.
“It really is,” Sam agreed. “That guy’s Caleb, by the way.”
“Jesus,” I replied, suddenly alarmed. “Can the demon woman help him find me?”
“No.” He sounded sure. “She’s in hell, where demons belong. She hasn’t been back to earth since. Someone closed that little loophole and now she’s stuck down there for good.”
“Hell,” I said. “The Underworld? Is that where I was?”
Sam shook his head. “It usually takes a person a couple of days to reach The Underworld entrance after they die. From what I pieced together, you were only gone a few hours.”
I looked around in frustration. “I’m sorry,” I said plainly, “but does this not all sound a little crazy to you? I mean, come on. There are vampires? Demons? Hell?!”
Sam shrugged. “It’s what I’ve heard. I don’t believe one way or another because I haven’t seen proof either way. I never believed any of it at first but… you see things. Your perception of what’s real changes pretty fast in this world. When you see a person die and then wake up alive the next day, you start to believe some of this crap.”
“And the sciencey part?” I asked, hoping at least that would sound a little more believable.
“Right.” Sam finally pushed his plate away, seven chewed pizza crusts all that remained of his delicious creation. I stared at the empty plate between us with wistful regret.
Next time I will eat faster.
“Vampires are just regular people that have been exposed to a virus,” Sam began. “It’s a virus that we carry in our blood. You can’t catch it from the air, or from touching something a vampire has touched. It takes a blood transfusion—a big one. Drinking vampire blood isn’t enough anymore. You have to have a lot of vampire blood injected straight into your bloodstream for the virus to take hold.”
“If vampires were all regular people once, why are they all such assholes?” I interrupted.
Except you.
Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. I think it has a lot to do with the type of people who want to be vampires, you know? A normal person doesn’t just wake up one day willing to give up their humanity for a chance at immortality. It’s people who are already screwed up. Greedy people. People who are dying. People who feel like they don’t have any other options. People who get forced into it.”
Like me. My head was hurting. I massaged my throbbing temples with my fingertips.
“You okay?” I heard Ryan’s voice behind me, and felt a warm hand on my back. It still irritated the hell out of me, the way he was acting like the good guy in all of this.
“Mm–hmm,” I replied, shrugging his hand off of me.
“You thirsty?” he asked, quieter this time.
Sam let out a surprised noise, and I looked up at him. His eyebrows were raised and he looked kind of pissed.
Great, three pissed–off vampires in one day! A trifecta.
“I can’t believe you, dude. You say you’re trying to help her?”
“Sam, stay out of this.” The warning in Ryan’s voice was unmistakable.
Sam slid his glass of water across the table so it was in front of me. “If you’re thirsty, drink this. You don’t need to listen to him.”
“Wait.” I looked from Ryan to Sam, confused. “Don’t vampires need blood to live?”
“Yes,” Ryan said.
“No,” Sam said at exactly the same time.
“You told me I had to or I would die,” I protested through gritted teeth.
“She will go crazy, Sam –”
“Do I look crazy to you?” Sam asked angrily.
Ryan groaned theatrically. “Give me a break. You’re … different to everyone else.”
“You’ve been fed a story, Mia.” Sam was insistent. “Vampires don’t need blood, they simply like it, the same way an addict likes their drug of choice. You won’t die if you don’t drink it. You can just eat and drink exactly the way you did before you were Turned. I’ve been like this for fifteen years now and I’m just fine.”
He did look just fine. Mighty fine, actually. He didn’t have that sickly pallor under his skin that Ivy and Ryan possessed. He looked normal. I turned to glare at Ryan. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t believe him.”
“What he’s saying is impossible,” Ryan exploded. “That’s a good reason.”
Sam pointed to me, but his words were for Ryan. “You think I’m different? She’s different, man. Look at how together she is. You say she woke up after the change yesterday? She should be snapping people’s necks right now, having a massacre somewhere, and look at her.”
I suddenly felt self–conscious. Having a massacre?
Ryan did look at me, for what seemed like a long time. “Fine,” he said. He went inside and came back with a steaming mug full of what looked like black sludge. He slammed it down in front of me, and some of the dark brown liquid sloshed over the table. “Drink that.”
“What is it?”
“It’s diluted with coffee. It’ll help you feel better.”
I pressed my lips together and shook my head. “I don’t want it,” I said stubbornly.
I saw Ryan’s jaw clench, and even though I wasn’t trying to read his mind, I could feel the anger and frustration radiating from him. These two obviously had a history.
“Why are you trying to mess this up?” Ryan asked Sam in a measured, even voice that didn’t sound half as mad as the way he obviously felt. “I’m trying to do the right thing here.”
Sam rose from his chair so the two were eye–to–eye. Well, Sam was about an inch taller, actually, but that’s not important.
“What are you up to, Ryan? You don’t help people. You kill people. Especially pretty high school girls.”
He thought I was pretty?
Ryan looked almost embarrassed. “I think I had … an epiphany.”
Sam laughed, slapping his thigh with his hand. “Dude, are you shitting me? Last time you had an ‘epiphany’,” he made rabbit ears in the air with his fingers, “you burned Ivy’s house down.”
“Second time’s a charm,” Ryan replied coldly.
My feeling that Ryan was generally not a very nice person was being strongly reinforced.
Ivy suddenly appeared behind Sam. She glared at Ryan. “You need to back off, okay? You wanted our help, and you’ve got it. But you’re not in charge here.”
Ryan shook his head. “This was a colossal mistake. I risk everything for this stupid girl who won’t do anything I say, I come home, looking for help from an old friend, and I’m the asshole?”
He thought I was stupid? Stupid and pretty all in one.
“You came home, Ryan?” Ivy said in disbelief. “This is Sam’s home now. Don’t start waving your dick around like you own the joint. You burnt this place to the ground, remember? Sam and I rebuilt it, brick by fucking brick. So you can either back off, or get out.”
Ryan looked beyond them, to the pool, chewing his lip.
“But she stays,” Ivy added quickly. “She’s safe here.”
“She’s mine,” Ryan said defensively.
“No, I’m not!” I protested. “I’m nobody’s!”
“What I mean is, you’re my responsibility,” Ryan said quickly. “I didn’t mean it the way you think.”
I glowered. Nobody said anything.
I threw my napkin down, stood up and went inside without giving anyone a second glance. I slammed every door I could find on the way to the room I had been assigned—I refused to call it my bedroom—and went back to my spot in front of the ensuite bathroom mirror. I studied my smooth neck again, looking for any tiny remainder of the scar Caleb had inflicted, but there was still nothing. My temple was perfectly smooth, no sign of a crushed skull there. My shoulder, the one I had dislocated and later landed on when I fell, felt fine. Better than fine—it had never felt better.
I stepped back so I could take a good look at myself—so I could look at the girl I had become. Everything was the same, but everything had changed. My eyes, normally sparkling blue and full of energy, were now dull and almost gray in colour. Jared had always claimed to be able to tell what mood I was in by the subtle changes in my eye colour, and I had to admit now that he was right. I looked old and tired and washed–up, but if the vampires were telling the truth, I was never going to get a day older—even if I lived another seven hundred years.
At that moment, I heard footsteps approach, and a gentle knock on the door.
“What?” I called out, not really interested in talking to anyone.
The door opened, revealing Ryan. What a surprise. The guy clearly couldn’t stay away from me. I looked at him impatiently. “What do you want?”
He looked at my phone, still on the floor where it had landed after I threw it at him.
“You haven’t called anyone yet.”
I shook my head.
“Why?”
I shrugged, swallowing back a hard lump in my throat. “What am I supposed to say?”
He thought about that for a minute, before sitting on the large windowsill that overlooked the pool.
“I have an idea,” he said finally.
“I’m not drinking more blood. Or that coffee,” I snapped.
Ryan smiled. “Well, do you want to hear my idea?”
I shrugged, still fuming inside, but too tired to keep fighting. “Sure. Why not.”
He gestured for me to sit next to him, and I did.
“Remember when we were in the diner, and I showed you my past?”
I nodded.
“And you seemed to digest that a lot easier than me just telling you things, right?”
I nodded again. “It was like you couldn’t lie, even if you tried,” I admitted.
“That’s right. Here. Give me your hands.” He stretched his palms out, and I took hold of them reluctantly.
“Ready?”
“I guess.”
I felt the room fade into the background with a kind of sucking shoooook! as the memory Ryan was showing me came into clear focus in my mind.
This time was just as bizarre and all–consuming as the first time had been. Except, now that I knew what to expect, I was a little better about receiving all of the information being fed to me.
We were in Ryan’s apartment in Caleb’s compound in Mexico. I gazed around, wondering what he could possibly show me that didn’t involve killing stupid pretty girls and drinking their blood. There was a girl, maybe mid–twenties, holding a blackberry to her ear and obviously waiting for her call to be answered. She definitely didn’t look human. Her green eyes practically glowed with supernatural power. She sat on a brown leather sofa next to Ryan, who was poised to listen to whatever conversation she was about to have.
“Sweetie, I missed you last night. I’m back in New York.”
That was my mom on the other end of the phone!
A voice that sounded just like mine came out of the scary girl’s mouth. “That’s okay, I stayed at Evie’s. Mom, you’ll never believe what happened!”
That’s not me, I thought. How can she sound just like me?
“Honey, I’m in the middle of a case –”
“I got accepted into UCLA’s track program,” the Me Impostor gushed over the line. “Full scholarship and everything!”
I heard my mother stop typing for a second, and I imagined her perfectly manicured red nails hovering in mid–air. “That’s amazing, honey. You want to come up to celebrate? We could have dinner with Warren at that little bistro in Manhattan, what’s it called?”
“Mom, I can’t. I have to leave tonight to get there in time. My acceptance letter’s been lost in the mail for a week, can you believe it?”
My mom had already resumed her typing. She was a smart woman, a very successful woman—and I knew she loved me, so I wasn’t offended. I’d learnt to accept her the way she was a long time ago.
“That’s too bad,” my mom said. “Well, will we see you soon?”
“Sure,” The impostor said. “Bye Mom, love you!”
I blinked, and felt Ryan let go of my hand as the room came back into focus around me.
“Who was that?” I demanded. “That wasn’t me talking—but it sounded just like me!”
“She’s a shapeshifter.”
I didn’t want to ask what that was. Vampires were enough for one day. It suddenly occurred to me how organized this whole charade had been, from me being alone walking to my car, to the fact that they had chosen a weekend when my mother was away to kidnap me.
“How long was I being watched?” I asked Ryan slowly.
Ryan looked out of the window, to the pool and the trees beyond. Day was gradually bleeding into night, the sun just a pale yellow glow amongst the dusk. There was a cool breeze coming through the open window, and I hugged myself against the sudden chill.
“A year,” he said, in a perfectly measured, rationed voice.
I took a minute to comprehend that. A lot had happened in the past year. “Was it you?”
“No.” I couldn’t tell if his expression was one of sadness, or regret. “Not until the last few weeks.”
“Right. What about my boyfriend? My family? Do they have any idea?”
Ryan shook his head. “No. Which is why you can call them, without worrying. They all think you’re at college, just like your mom does.”
I thought about the impostor calling Jared. Had she told him she loved him? Had he told her?
“Sure, why would I worry,” I said sarcastically, but I was tired and it came out sounding perfectly reasonable instead of angry and frustrated.
Ryan paused. “I didn’t make that up, you know. You’ve been accepted into UCLA. Full track scholarship. You also got into Brown, Yale, and some pissy little colleges over on the east coast.”
I felt my hands start to shake. “Are you joking?”
He smiled. “No joke.”
My happiness was short–lived. “But I can’t go!” I wailed. “I’m stuck here while your crazy boss tries to find me.”
Ryan frowned. “Don’t give up hope just yet. Caleb is way too busy to learn anything about his targets. That’s my job. He probably has no idea where you’re even from or how old you are. Plus he’s very impatient. If we can throw him off for long enough, he’ll get bored and start another project.”
I was so ashamed at that moment because I thought to myself: I wish Caleb would find some other girl instead of looking for me. I don’t care if he takes her.
I don’t care if he takes a hundred girls, locks them away, drinks them up and tears at their flesh until they are rotted and hollow and dead inside.
I just want him to leave me alone.