Della opened her eyes. The nurse stood over her.
Blinking, Della tried to focus, but then something weird happened. She could see … something on the woman’s forehead. Weird crap. Like lines and stuff, like some kind of computer-jumbled pattern. She blinked hard and slowly opened her eyes again. It helped. The odd stuff was gone.
Della went to push up and realized something else that was gone. The cut on her hand. How had it healed so fast?
The nurse smiled. “Has anyone talked to you yet?”
Della forced herself to reach for the large cup on the hospital table. “About drinking my water. Yeah.”
“No, about what’s happening to you.” The nurse took the cup from Della’s hand. “Don’t drink anything. It’ll make you sicker.”
“Sicker? Have they figured out what’s wrong?”
The door swished open and a doctor walked in. He moved to the side of her bed and stared down at her. “Does she know?” he asked the nurse.
“Know what?” Della blurted out.
“I don’t think so.” The nurse ignored Della’s question.
“Know what?” she asked again.
“Her parents aren’t live carriers?” the doctor asked.
“No,” the nurse answered.
“Would you stop talking about me like I’m not here?”
The doctor met her gaze. “Sorry. I know this is hard.” The intensity of his stare disturbed her. For some reason, everything about him disturbed her. Which was odd. She didn’t normally instantly dislike people. It generally took at least fifteen minutes and a good reason.
She started to close her eyes, and bam, the weird crap appeared on the doc’s forehead.
The doctor growled, a real growl. Della recalled the gang members doing—
“Someone knows.” The doctor nodded back to the door.
The hospital door swung open so hard, it slammed against the wall and sounded as if it took a chunk out of the plastered wall. Della glanced up, but the doctor blocked her view.
“What the hell are you doing to her?” Chan stopped on the other side of the bed.
“Shit,” Della said. “It’s happening again.” And when she glanced at the nurse that crazy thing was on her forehead again. It was as if Della could see inside the nurse’s head, like in some cheesy B-rated movie. She could see the front of her … brain. Yup, it looked like a brain, only it wasn’t just wrinkled. It had strange-looking zigzaggy lines, a cross between bad modern art and ancient hieroglyphics.
“What’s happening?” the nurse asked.
“I’m … seeing ghosts.” Della had to force herself to stop staring at the woman’s brain. She looked at Chan and now he had something on his forehead, too. Only his brain looked different.
“We’re trying to help her,” the doctor answered Chan.
Della’s breath caught. “Can you see him, too?”
Chan snarled at the doctor, exposing his teeth, and she recalled the insane talk about vampires earlier. “She doesn’t need your kind of help, werewolf!”
“Did you do this to her?” the doctor asked. “Are you the one who infected her?”
“Yes,” Chan seethed. “But I didn’t know she was bleeding, and if you must know, I didn’t have a choice. It was snatch her up and get her out of the alley or let you dogs kill her!”
The doctor frowned. “Have you at least explained it to her?”
“I tried,” Chan said. “She’s not buying it.”
“Buying what?” Della asked, blinking furiously, trying to get the crap off everyone’s forehead. “He’s dead,” she snapped.
“We have to get her out of the hospital before Phase Two hits,” the nurse said.
Phase what? Nothing was making sense now.
The doctor looked at Della. “Look, your cousin isn’t dead. He’s … a vampire and thanks to his carelessness, like it or not, you’re about to become one, too.”
Della’s head started to pound again.
“I have to go,” Chan said. “Her parents are coming up in the elevator.”
“Wait,” the doctor said to Chan, “If I get her released, will you see her through this?”
“I don’t need anyone’s help!” Della insisted.
“Of course I will,” Chan said. “She’s my cousin.”
The nurse looked back at Della. “When the turn is complete, I want you to call this woman.” She handed Della a card. When Della didn’t take it, the nurse placed it in her hand.
“Call who?” Chan asked as he backed toward the door.
“Holiday Brandon. She’s the director of the Shadow Falls Camp. She can help.”
“Oh, hell no! Della’s not going to that stupid camp to get brainwashed by the government.”
The nurse’s shoulders tightened. “They don’t brainwash anyone. They’ll help her decide what’s best for her.”
“I know what’s best for her. She’s going to come live with me.”
Live with Chan? Della struggled to keep up with the crazy conversation. Then she heard the elevator bell ding as if it were right outside her door.
“And fake her death, like you did? That’s why she thinks you’re a ghost, right?” The nurse shook her head. “Is that really what you want for her? To have to walk away from her entire life, her family?”
Chan didn’t answer. Della only saw a blur appear where he’d stood. The door swung back open and caused another chunk of plaster to rain down on the floor. The doctor and nurse looked back at Della with pity, sympathy. Della scowled at them.
“The nurse’s right,” the doctor said. “Call Shadow Falls. Trust your cousin to help get you through the next few days, but after that, don’t believe everything he tells you. You look like a smart girl. Make up your own mind. With proper planning, we can live normal lives.”
“We?” Della asked.
“Supernaturals,” he said and pointed to his chest. “Werewolf.” He motioned to the nurse. “Fae. And you’re vampire. There are others, but you’ll learn about them in time.”
Della slumped back onto the pillow. “So it’s official?” she muttered.
“What’s official?” the nurse asked.
“I’ve lost my mind.”
* * *
“You need to eat and drink something,” Della’s mother said and handed her a cup with steam billowing above the rim.
Della had been out of the hospital for a day. Her head pounded like a mofo, her body hurt like the worse case of flu she’d ever had. And mentally she was slipping. Her assessment no longer hinged on the fact that she saw Chan. It hinged on the fact that she was this close to believing him. She was turning into a vampire. And, according to Chan, the first two days were a stroll down Easy Street in flip-flops compared to what the next two would be.
She pulled the cup of hot tea to her lips, pretended to drink, hoping to appease her mom. The nurse, and then Chan, had told her that eating or drinking anything would make things worse. Oh, Della hadn’t taken them at their word. Nope. She had to go prove it.
She’d never heard of anyone puking up a vital organ, but odds were she was missing a lung right now. Thank God she had two.
“Lee called again,” her mom said, straightening Della’s covers.
“Is he coming over?” Della managed to ask, torn between wanting to see him, and not wanting him to see her like this. Upchucking a lung didn’t leave one looking their best.
“I told him he could, but he said his mom was worried you might be infectious.”
“She never liked me.” Della closed her eyes.
“Why would you say that?” Her mom stood up.
Because I’m half-white. “I don’t know,” Della lied and opened her eyes. “Because I’m too ballsy.”
Her mom squeezed Della’s hand. “You are too ballsy. Too independent. Too stubborn. A lot like your dad. But I love him, too.” She brushed Della’s bangs from her brow.
When her mom left, Chan stepped out of the closet. He edged up against the bed. “You’
re about to hit Phase Three.”
“How do you know?” she asked and oh, damn but every nerve ending in her body seemed to scream. If this was Phase Three, she didn’t like it one damn bit!
“Your heart rate is increasing,” he said.
Della pushed her head back into the pillow and muttered some ugly words.
“Listen to me, Della. This is very important. When your parents come in here, you have to act normal. Whatever happens, we can’t let them take you back to the hospital.”
“Why not?” she asked and moaned.
“There’s too much blood there. You might lose it. Even the smell of blood might send you over the edge. The first feeds have to be controlled feeds.”
Another pain wracked her body and she bit her lip to keep from screaming. “Can I die from this?” She bunched up a fistful of blanket and squeezed. She hated being scared. Hated it because it was a sign of weakness.
His black eyes met hers. “Yeah.”
Another sharp pain exploded in her head. “Am I going to die?” Her thoughts shot to Lee. She wanted him to be here to hold her. If she died, she wanted to see him one last time. Then her thoughts shot to her little sister, Marla. Della had sworn to be there for her, to make sure no one ever bullied Marla, like they had her. For some crazy reason, Della knew her sister wasn’t as strong as she was.
“No, you’re not going to die,” Chan said, but Della saw the doubt in his eyes. “You’re too hardheaded. Hardheaded Della can’t die. You hear me? You can’t die, Della. You’re going to be strong.”
* * *
Two days later, Della slowly drifted awake. She’d slept fitfully for most of the past forty-eight hours. She recalled sitting up and pretending to eat when her parents came in, so she wouldn’t get stuck going back to the hospital. And she remembered talking to Chan a few times. But she’d been so feverish and out of it that her memory was still hazy. She opened her eyes and quickly slapped her hand over them to block the sun spilling through her window. “Stop that,” she seethed.
“Who are you talking to?” Chan asked.
“The sun!” she growled and nearly cut her tongue on her teeth.
“It pisses me off, too. We’re night people now. But it’s about to go down.” Chan must have lowered the blinds, because the burning brightness faded. He continued talking. “As soon as your parents go to bed, we’re going out. I need to educate you.”
“Educate me in what?”
“Your new life.”
She moved her hand from her eyes and looked around. The first thing she saw was the flowers. Red roses. Lee? Yes, she recalled her mother bringing them in and reading her the card. Lee said he loved her.
She smiled and realized she didn’t hurt. Not her head. Not her gut. In fact, she felt … good. Strong. She felt more alive than ever.
“I’m well!” She stretched out her arms and did a little bed dance.
“Yeah, you made it. Scared me for a while there, but—”
“Where’s my cell?” She wanted to call Lee.
“In the drawer, so I wouldn’t have to listen to all the beeping. Your lover boy is worried about you.”
Right then, all their talk about vampirism ran through her head. Did she really believe? And if she didn’t, how could she explain Chan? She pushed it out of her mind, and decided to enjoy not feeling like day-old dog poop for a few seconds before traveling down that road. A road she somehow knew was going to cause her a lot of pain.
Sitting on the side of the bed, she remembered Chan propping her up on pillows and telling her to fake being okay every time he heard her parents walking up the stairs. She couldn’t remember how well she’d done, but probably not too badly because they never bundled her up to take her to the hospital.
She stood, stretched, and looked down at the chair positioned by the bed. And bam, she was slammed with the memory of Marla, her little sister stepping inside the room. She’d held Della’s hand and cried. Cried silently because even her sister knew how her dad hated weakness. Marla’s words played like sad music in Della’s head. “Please don’t die, Della. You’re supposed to help me, help me learn to be strong like you.”
A big ache filled Della’s chest. She was so glad she hadn’t died and let Marla down.
Looking at the window, she had a vague memory of … standing on the roof.
“Did we go somewhere?”
“Yeah, you were getting cabin fever—needed to sort of test your wings. You did good, too.”
Suddenly, she recalled moving at amazing speeds and feeling the wind in her face. What was real?
Her stomach growled. “I’m starved,” she muttered.
Chan pointed to a big plastic cup with a straw. “You didn’t finish your breakfast.”
She reached for the drink and sipped. A thousand different flavors exploded in her mouth. Berries, dark chocolate, tangy melon. Flavors she didn’t even recognize, but somehow knew she couldn’t live without now that she had sampled them.
“What is this?” She licked her lips and immediately started drinking again.
His right brow arched. “It’s what you’ll be living on from now on. Blood.”
She almost gagged, then stopped herself. She’d bitten her tongue before. “Blood doesn’t taste like this.” She yanked the top off and stared at … at what looked like blood.
“How can…”
“Nothing will taste like it did before. Don’t you remember gagging on the chicken soup your mom brought you?”
She looked at her cousin and vaguely remembered trying to eat the soup. “Tell me you’re lying.”
“Sorry. Everything is different now. No use in me trying to sugarcoat things. Just accept it.”
She stared down at the thick red substance in her cup. “This can’t be real.”
“It’s as real as it gets.”
“Oh, God!” She put the cup on her nightstand and stared at it. “What kind of blood?”
“AB negative. O is better, but I couldn’t find any.”
“That’s … that’s human blood?” Her stomach churned.
He nodded. “Animal isn’t nearly as good. But you’ll learn about that in time. I have a lot to teach you.”
She cupped a hand over her mouth and stared at the cup. But even as the thought of drinking blood sickened her, even as a part of her vowed not to become this monster, her mouth watered for another taste, another swallow.
She hadn’t ever known real hunger or thirst, but this … the feeling that said if she didn’t finish what was in that cup right now she might die, had to be the closest thing she’d ever experienced.
Chan went to grab the cup. Before she knew what she was doing she lunged, knocked him across the room, and grabbed the cup.
He laughed. “I figured as much.”
She finished the drink, and looked up at Chan. “I need more.”
“I know. Right after you turn, you’re ravenous. I think I put down fifteen pints my few first days. But you’re going to have to wait until after your parents go to bed.”
“I want it now,” she hissed, not even recognizing her own voice.
* * *
“They didn’t card me?” Della said, following Chan into the club several hours later. The place was dark, lit up by only a few candles, but amazingly she didn’t have much trouble seeing. Or hearing. Noise, crowd noise, the chattering of different conversations, and people shifting in their chairs, came at her from every direction, but somehow she could shut out the parts of it that she didn’t want to listen to. However, the ambience didn’t stem from the noise or the lighting. Energy vibrated in the place. Della felt it, felt it feeding her, like some forbidden drug.
“The only card you need for this place is right here.” He touched her forehead.
Immediately, Della remembered the weird things she’d been seeing on everyone’s forehead. She grabbed his arm. “What is that? The forehead thing?”
He grinned. “It’s your ID. All supernaturals have the ability to read
brain patterns, and eventually you’ll learn to tell who is what. And if you concentrate just a little bit you can get behind their shields and know if they’re friend or foe.”
He pointed across the room. “Look at the guy in the green shirt. Tighten your eyes, and stare at his forehead and tell me what you see.”
At first all Della saw was his forehead and then … “I see … swirly lines.”
“Now look at my pattern. Do you see the similarities?” Chan asked.
“Yes. But they’re not identical,” she said.
“Not identical, but he’s vampire. Brain patterns are like tracks in the snow—sooner or later, you’ll be able to know what kind of animal made that print.”
She nodded and glanced around the room.
“Look at that big guy’s pattern, the guy in the black coat,” he said.
She did. The pattern was completely different. Horizontal lines and …
“Now look deeper. Keep staring. Open your mind.”
She concentrated and what she saw was black and dark and gave off the impression of danger. She took a step back.
He laughed. “It’s okay. He’s not going to hurt you. Not here, anyway. But meet him in a dark alley, and who knows.”
“I wasn’t scared,” she insisted, but she knew it was a lie and she heard her own heartbeat speed up as if punctuating the fib.
“You should be. He’s werewolf and not someone you want to associate with.”
Della remembered. “The doctor. He was a werewolf and he didn’t seem … bad.”
“They are all bad.” He looked around. “There’s a fae, the pretty brunette in the pink dress. Well, she’s half fae, half human.”
Della tightened her brows and recalled the pattern of the nurse in the hospital. “I think I sort of understand. But if these people don’t get along, how come they come to the same bar? And why would they work together?”
“Because some supers think we should live as one big happy family. Like humans who want to live alongside lions. And I admit I’ve had my fair share of fun toying with a few breeds.” He wiggled his brows. “Especially humans. It’s fun to play with our food.”
Della took a step back. “You’re human. How can you…”
“I told you earlier, I’m not going to sugarcoat it. I’m not human anymore. Neither are you. You need to start looking at humans as prey because that’s all they are for us.”