The Sinner

Jo stared at Syn. And then she heard herself say, “I want a minute alone.”

Manny cleared his throat. “Syn, will you give us a—”

“Not with you.” She went back and sat down where she’d been. “With him.”

 

* * *

 

Syn expected the dismissal to open the door to another argument with the surgeon. Hell, he’d just learned firsthand exactly how good Manny was at the high-volume, point-counterpoint shit. Turned out the guy was a hot-blooded sonofabitch, and under different circumstances, a male might have respected that.

But not tonight.

And never when it came to Jo.

There was some conversation at that point, and then Manny was peeling off from the sitting area and striding for the break room’s exit.

Before he stepped out, he said over his shoulder, “Come find me if he passes out from blood loss. I’ve still got to stitch him up.”

Then they were alone. Because it was hard to meet Jo in the eye, Syn watched the door ease shut as if its repositioning against the jamb held the secrets to the universe. Or maybe it was more that he was hoping the slab of wood could coach him on what to say.

Only one thing was coming to him at the moment.

“I’m sorry,” Syn murmured into the silence.

“You keep saying that.”

“It’s so apt in this situation.” He lifted his eyes to hers. “I’m also not good with… a lot of things.”

Jo was sitting across from him, but he felt as though they were separated by the ocean. She looked exhausted and jumpy at the same time, her heel bouncing on the floor, one of her hands fiddling with the sleeve of her coat. Her red hair was tangled, part of the length tucked inside her lapels, and her face was pale, way too pale.

Her eyes were what killed him, though. They were wide and white-rimmed, frightened as if she were being stalked by a madman with a knife—and though he had not brought her genetic destiny unto her, he sure as hell had delivered a number of other bad news packages.

And she didn’t know the half of it.

“I’m scared,” she whispered.

Syn jacked forward, and had to stop himself from taking the movement even further. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Is it? I’m not so sure… I never knew who my birth mother or father was, and I thought that was bad.” She laughed in a short, tense rush. “Turns out not knowing what species I am is so much worse. I almost can’t comprehend… anything.”

“You’re the same person you’ve always been.”

“No, I’m not.” She put out her hands and turned them over. “Because I didn’t know what I was in the first place.”

“Nothing has to change.”

“Then why is it called ‘the change.’ ”

Shit. He completely sucked at this.

Abruptly, Jo tucked her hands under her legs, as if she couldn’t bear looking at them. “Is this why the urgent care center called me and told me they couldn’t read my blood sample?”

“Did you see a doctor?”

“Yes. I already told you. And their office called and said there was a lab error and I needed to come for another try at it. But my blood wasn’t contaminated at the lab, was it.”

“No. The readings would be off compared to humans.”

“I wish I knew whether the change was actually coming.”

“I think it is.” Syn tapped his nose. “I can smell it. Others of my kind can as well.”

“And that’s how the other one, the Boston guy, recognized me?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes locked on his. “Do you think I’ve been hunting for vampires because I am one?”

“I think you’ve been looking for yourself.”

“How many memories have you taken from me?”

“None.”

Jo was quiet for a time, and Syn found himself getting to his feet and moving over to her side of the divide, her side of the coffee table… her side of the conflict. Even though, when it came to her transition, there really wasn’t a conflict to be had. Her body was her future, its internal mechanisms of oxygen exchange and heart rate, hormones and DNA, a mystery that was going to solve the mystery. And no one and no test and nothing was going to force the outcome.

But he was with her, no matter what.

“Before Manny left just now…” She cleared her throat. “He said I was going to have to take a…”

When she didn’t go any further, he finished things for her. “Take a vein. I’m sorry, I know it must repulse you. But if it happens, you need to have the blood of an opposite member of the species or you will die—”

“I want it to be yours.” As Jo’s eyes glowed with unshed tears, she wrapped her arms around herself. “No one else’s.”

Syn shook his head as he tried to get over his shock. How could she ever pick him? “Jo… there are so many better choices.”

“Then I’m not doing it. It’s you or no one.”

“I don’t think you understand what’s going to happen. Your body is going to make up your mind, not the other way around. Bloodlust is nothing to negotiate with.”

“You’re the only person in this world I know. I don’t want some stranger…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “This is like a nightmare. I literally can’t get my head around any part of this. And you think I’m going to choose a stranger?”

“It doesn’t have to be sexual.” Syn’s molars ground together as the bonded male in him started to scream. “The feeding, that is.”

“How will I know? When I have to…”

“You will know.”

“And you did this? I mean, it happened to you?”

Syn pictured the female from the Old Country. “Yes. And there was nothing sexual in that first feeding for me.”

“How long ago was it?”

“Three hundred years. Give or take.” As her eyes bulged, he nodded. “Our life expectancies are different.”

“Will mine change?” When he nodded, she chewed on her bottom lip. “Is the transition dangerous?”

“I’m not going to lie to you.”

“So that’s a yes.”

Syn slowly nodded, fear gripping his chest at the idea he might lose her. Even though she never really had been his.

“Isn’t there a blood test or… something… that can tell me precisely when it will hit?”

“No.” He wanted to reach out. Hold her. Ease her in any way he could. “You just have to wait. And again, because you’re part human, it could be a while.”

“Or it could never happen, right?” When he nodded again, Jo looked around the break room. “Tell me they don’t expect me to just sit around and wait here, like I’m some kind of prisoner? I have a job… a life… to get back to. Especially if this never happens.”

“They won’t keep you here against your will. They can’t.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes.” Because he was damn well going to make it so. “I’m sure.”

Jo seemed to relax at that, her shoulders easing some.