Chapter Nine
Becca lived in a narrow block of apartments not so different to my own. It was nicer than my place though. My own street always seemed to be covered in perpetual darkness, even on sunny days.
"She's up on top," Peter said, squinting as he looked upward. "Lift or stairs?"
"Stairs." No way was I risking being stuck in a lift with Peter. Plus, I couldn't chance leaving Carl alone for too long if the lift jammed. I was becoming almost fond of him, as though he was a pet I was babysitting for a friend. Odd to have around, but I suspected I might even miss him once he left.
We ventured up the stairs in silence. "Number 6b," Peter informed me. I gulped. Six was never a good sign. My gut reaction intensified when we reached her apartment and saw her door was wide open. Looking in, we saw most of the furniture had been toppled over. I sniffed the air.
"I smell blood."
Peter put his finger to his lips and gestured for me to follow him. He crept past the wide open door, glancing left and right. His heart thudded loudly in his chest, distracting me.
"Wait here," he whispered and headed toward what might have been the bedroom or bathroom. The place was brightly coloured, a dramatic contrast to the bar, but something bothered me. I couldn't figure out what had triggered the warning signals in my brain.
I jumped with fright as something crashed to the floor in the room Peter had entered. I heard him yell and raced after him. He was on the ground, Becca on top of him. Her face was covered in blood. My stomach did a flip as I realised it was Peter's blood.
"What the hell?' She whipped her head around at my words and showed her teeth. Her eyes were so red that I had to double check to see if she had fangs. She didn't. But her very ordinary human teeth were covered in blood from where she had bitten Peter's shoulder. He was too dazed to struggle.
"You crazy bitch!" I shouted as I lunged at her. She barely had time to get to her feet before I collided with her. We rolled on the floor and crashed into the corner of the bed. She was quicker to recover than me and pinned me down. It took less than two seconds for me to get scared at the sheer force of her strength. I could barely move. I was getting pretty sick of everyone pinning me down with such apparent ease.
Becca wrapped her hands around my neck, moaning with excitement as my heartbeat raced.
"You... monster," I said, gasping and desperately pinching at her hands to no avail. My air supply was depleting rapidly, and her fingers were making a good effort at crushing the bones in my neck. Not again. Peter was still prone on the ground, Carl wasn't around, and I was on my own.
I tried to buck her off me, but she gripped my waist tight with her knees. I kept moving as much as I could to distract her while I desperately reached out with my hands for something to use as a weapon. Under the bed, my fingers brushed against something cool and metallic. I struggled to grip onto it but finally managed to take a firm hold. I pulled, but it was stuck on something. Black dots marred my vision; I knew I hadn't long left. With one last blast of adrenalin, I pulled as hard as I could and felt a release. I swung into the air and realised I was holding a hair straightener.
My heart sank as it barely connected, but the wire managed to whip around into the air, the prongs of the plug connecting with her eye.
"Ow!" She howled with pain, letting go of my neck to instinctively touch her eye socket. Blood seeped from her eye, but I didn't care. Air slammed into my lungs making me want to retch, but I concentrated on tackling her. The back of her head smacked to the ground as I held her down. Peter stirred behind me, but I couldn't turn to check on him. Becca was much stronger than me, and I knew I couldn't keep her pinned for much longer. I had only one weapon-my fangs. They shot out, but I hesitated, unwilling to commit.
I felt cold air blow on the back of my neck and heard one word whisper in my ear.
"Bite."
Excitement flooded through me. I shuddered as I sank my teeth into flesh. Her skin tore easily. She tasted funny, but her screams of pain and fear encouraged me to keep going. Instead of lapping, I sucked and dug my fangs deeper into her arteries. I relished the feeling of pure raw energy flowing through my system. As she weakened, I became stronger.
"Ava, stop it!" Peter shouted, but his words were dull behind the wall of power I was creating. Becca's heartbeat slowed, and the humanity inside pulled me away from her.
"Oh, God," I said, horrified, even as I licked her wound and the blood from my chin.
I covered my mouth and looked up at Peter, appalled by how little I regretted what I had done.
"Is she okay?" he said, pushing me out of the way to check her pulse. "Why did you do that?"
"You told me to bite her!"
"You wish."
I remembered the cold presence I felt and realised he was telling the truth.
"Shit," I murmured to myself. "Eddie." The cold air turned into a sharp blast of icy protest against my neck. I rubbed it hard, trying to warm up again. "Okay, sorry."
"What are you on about?" Peter snapped. Becca was too pale, but I could see her shallow breaths, hear her slow heartbeat. Everything was louder, clearer, more intense than before. The first time I had bitten someone, I barely drank and was so freaked out afterwards I could have sprouted wings and not noticed. This time I had drunk my fill. Satiated for the first time in my life, I now saw colours on a whole new spectrum. Performing the act of a dead creature had made me feel more alive than ever.
"Her wound is healing," Peter said, in awe. "Did you do that?"
I shook my head, unable to stay calm. "She bit you. What the fuck, Peter?"
He shivered noticeably and backed away from Becca-and me. "She jumped on me from behind, almost knocked me out. Then she bit me and banged my head off the ground. I must have passed out or something. I woke up and you were on her." He wrapped his arms around himself, his face pale. "You're all scary as hell; I hope you know that."
Carl burst through the doorway, ready to save us, presumably. He looked from me to Becca, and I bit down a wave of nausea.
"Carl, you watch Becca. Don't let her leave. Or bite anyone," I said, needing a minute away from everyone.
I headed to the bathroom to clean my face. Looking at myself in the mirror, I noticed a pale red gleam in my eyes. I had to sit on the side of the bath to settle myself. My whole body was buzzing with excess energy. I'd done it-but not because I couldn't help myself. I looked at the silver cross. Red swirls of colour skimmed the surface. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see. The hit of adrenalin had faded away, and I was left with a funny, shaky feeling.
I almost killed Becca-but she might have killed me if I hadn't fought back. She was crazy strong, stronger than me until I fed on her. What on earth had possessed her? She might be human, but she was acting like more of a vampire than I was. Even her blood tasted funny.
I left the bathroom and looked around for a reason not to join the others. Remembering Becca's red eyes, I inspected her kitchen. A serious lack of food, but plenty of chilled blood.
"That's just weird," I said to myself.
The cold presence blew gently on the back of my neck as if in agreement.
"Ava! She's awake," called Carl.
Becca was awake all right, and mad as hell.
"Get your slave off me!" she spat, reminding me of a hissy cat.
"He's not my slave. What's with all the blood in the fridge, you freak?"
"Blood?" Peter said. "What the hell's wrong with you, Becca?"
"I need it, okay? Look, Petey, let me go. I'll be good, promise," Becca said, the whine in her voice making me angry. She gazed up at Peter, her eyes wide with innocence, but the dried blood all over her chin ruined the effect.
He looked away in disgust.
"Why did you attack Peter? Did you know we were coming?"
Her eyes narrowed. "I don't have to answer your questions, bitch."
Carl shoved at her.
It was like having a guard dog, only better. She seemed to be offended that he was the one containing her.
"I don't feel good," she said in a tiny, pitiful voice. "You drank too much, you silly cow."
She was pretty pale. "I know," I said, beating down panic. "Answer a couple of questions, and I'll take you to hospital."
"We can't take her there. She might bite someone," Peter said.
"Just give me a drink," Becca snapped.
Peter recoiled in unconcealed horror.
"I meant one from my fridge," she amended, but she looked thrilled by his reaction.
"Okay, Peter, go and get some." I told him, seeing I had to take the lead this time. "Don't heat it up."
Becca glared at me but didn't argue.
I sat on her bed. "Spill, Becca. We'll feed you if you do."
She rolled her eyes with disdain, but when Peter returned with a bag of blood, her face lit up. She licked her lips greedily. "They told me to watch out for you. I was supposed to hurt you if I could. 'Cos I can go out during the day."
"Give her the blood," I said. She ripped it open and gulped it down, barely pausing to take a breath. Her eyes rolled upward with pleasure when she drained the last drop.
"Why are you drinking blood, Becca?" Peter had a funny look on his face, as if he were barely holding it together.
"No choice." She sighed softly, her eyes fluttering closed.
"Ava, I changed my mind. She looks like hell; we have to take her to the hospital. Fuck the blood bags; she might need a transfusion," Peter said.
"I don't. Just give me another drink, and I'll be fine."
He got one, threw it at her, and stormed out of her flat.
"What did they do to you?" I asked her, disgusted by how eagerly she was drinking. I hoped I didn't look like that to Peter.
She shrugged. "They're turning me into one of them."
"That's not possible," I said, scoffing at her delusions.
"It is now. There are these Spanish vampires, yeah? They kept testing on people, trying to turn them, trying to figure out how to trigger the change. Finally it worked on one guy. The rest all died."
"They figured it out? They can turn humans into vampires?" So not good.
"Yeah, but it's pricey. Max reckons I'm a good candidate, so I get an injection every week-he bites me daily. I haven't changed yet, obviously, but I'm close. I can feel it. I'm so thirsty now. I think I'd die if I didn't drink blood."
"Have you even tried?" I said.
She ignored me. The whole thing was insane; I couldn't believe the vampires were actually testing on people like that. Worse still, it sometimes worked.
"Doesn't it hurt?"
She laughed without humour. "Like hell. But it'll be worth it. What the fuck are you then? What's all the fuss about? You have fangs; you must be closer to the change than me. Damn."
She actually thought I was like her. Sick to the stomach, I was glad when Peter returned.
"Ava, I have to go."
"Can I get up now, Petey? I'm sleepy." Becca's heartbeat was still slow. I almost felt guilty.
"Let's get out of here, Ava," Peter said.
I nodded. Becca couldn't be trusted. I picked her up, surprised by how easy it was, and laid her on the bed. She was already dozing off.
"Wait a second, Becca. Is Maximus coming after me?"
"He wants you real bad," she said dozily. "People in the day. Vampires at night. Someone's gonna get you."
"You tell Maximus to come get me himself. I'll be at the bookshop, you know, the one with the smashed windows." I was pissed off, but her eyes had closed, so I wasn't sure if she heard me.
"Let's go," I muttered, avoiding Peter's eyes as we walked downstairs. "First thing I'm doing when this is all over is get self-defence lessons. I keep getting hopped on." I tried to laugh, but Peter didn't respond. I sniffed the air and bit my lip.
"I'm driving," I told Peter at the car. He didn't argue. That scared me more than anything. "Think she'll be okay?" I asked him, just to get him to speak.
"Who cares?" He moved to get in the backseat, but I stopped him.
"Wait," I said. "Carl, get in."
I looked up at Peter, almost too embarrassed to speak. "Don't freak out, but your shoulder is still bleeding a little. It's kind of distracting, but I think I can close the wound. Will you let me?"
He hesitated, then nodded. I held him still and inched closer to his shoulder. His blood didn't call to me like Carl's did, but it was blood, it was going to entice me in some way. I ran my tongue over the slow bleeding gash on his neck, feeling his pulse thud. He tasted a lot nicer than Becca, sweeter. His scent reminded me of cinnamon. I licked again and again, as the skin gradually knotted itself together under my tongue. For whatever reason, I could fix him.
He pushed me away from him roughly. I realised then how close I'd been to him. We were both panting. Droplets of sweat rolled down his temples.
"I need a drink," he muttered.