toward the bathroom. “I paid for two pints, I want two pints.”
“Two pints!” I exclaimed once the bathroom door was closed. “You can’t give him two pints of your blood!”
Ziggy settled comfortably in a chair and tied a rubber tourniquet around his arm, much in the way I’d tried the night before. He was a bit too proficient at it.
“Sure I can. In case you get hungry, you should know I’ve got a stake in my pocket with your name on it.” He took a few trial stabs with the needle, missing the vein each time. I didn’t know what to say. I was a little insulted he thought I was some wild, uncontrollable animal. “Here,” I said gruffly. “You’re turning yourself into a pincushion.” I took the needle from him and slid it smoothly into the only undamaged vein I could find.
“Heroin?” I asked, casting a disapproving look at the track marks on his wrists and the backs of his hands.
“Not that it’s any of your business, Doc, but no. I’m the cleanest donor in the city. And Nate’s not my only customer.”
In my opinion, his cleanliness was debatable. I didn’t say so and resisted the urge to wipe my hands on my jeans after I touched him.
“You should be more careful with the needles,” I said, trying to sound as concerned as I possibly could. “You can’t just poke around in your arm like that.”
“Duly noted,” he replied, too distracted with the intricacies of plastic connector tubing to pay my warning much heed.
I dropped onto the couch and averted my eyes. I didn’t trust myself to catch sight of his blood. I heard the water running in the shower and muffled singing.
“So are you and Nate like special friends now or something?” Ziggy asked.
“No,” I replied, “and if we were, I don’t think it would be any of your business.”
He laughed. “Hey, no offense or anything. I just wondered because you’re, you know, wearing his clothes and all.”
I looked down at the T-shirt and wrapped my arms around myself. “My shirt had blood on it.”
“Listen, I don’t care. I was just trying to make conversation.” He lit a cigarette then, and noticed my expression of utter longing, he held the pack out to me.
“No, thanks.” I waved them away, knowing I’d get no satisfaction from them. “It’d be a waste.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, tossing them on the table. “But a lot of vampires smoke, you know. It doesn’t matter much what you do when you’re dead. You can’t get cancer or anything.”
“Yeah, but you can’t get anything out of it, either,” I said, my voice wistful. The acrid smoke smelled better than baking cookies.
“Not true.” He held the cigarette out.
I took it and inhaled experimentally. He was right.
“It’s the blood,” he said. “Blood rules all.”
I passed the cigarette back. “But it didn’t do anything for me before.”
“Because you were craving blood,” he explained, prodding his arm where the needle entered his skin. I cleared my throat noisily, and he jerked his hand back with a grin. “It’s like if you were craving chocolate cake, and you just kept eating SpaghettiOs. The SpaghettiOs aren’t going to do it for you, you know?”
I hadn’t even known that vampires existed until I suddenly became one. Now some smart-assed kid was telling me, a doctor, the ins and outs of my own physiology.
The collection bag filled. He kinked the tubing and switched to an empty one. I motioned to the bag. “Do you want me to put that in the fridge?”
He nodded. “So, how long have you been a doctor?”
“Less than a year.” I hesitated. “I’m not sure I’m going to be a doctor much longer. Because of the vampire thing. After I worked so hard for it…I can’t believe it’s over.”
“That’s a bitch.” He sounded genuinely sympathetic.
The sound of the water stopped, and my mind briefly diverted to a vivid flash of Nathan emerging from the shower. I tried in vain to force the image from my thoughts.
A loud crash, followed immediately by a yelp and a dull thud, snapped me back to reality. For a moment, I thought Nathan had fallen out of the shower. Then I noticed the brick rolling awkwardly across the floor. The window behind the armchair was broken. Sunlight streamed in, and Ziggy slumped to his knees, unconscious.
Nathan rushed from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. He hurried to Ziggy’s side and felt frantically for a pulse.
“What happened?” he shouted, looking from Ziggy’s lifeless form to me.
I tried to focus on the emergency at hand, but it was hard to ignore a half-naked man standing in front of me, regardless of the circumstances.
His chest was well defined and droplets of water still clung to his broad shoulders. I felt heat rush to my face as I imagined gripping those strong arms and raking my nails across his back.
Yelling from the street snapped me back to the present. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”
I knew that voice.
“I know you’re up there! So does Cyrus! If I were you I’d come down here and burn before he gets to you!” She laughed. It was the same crazy sound she’d made the night before.
“Nathan?” I whispered, paralyzed with fear.
Ziggy tried to stand. As soon as he was upright, he crashed back to the floor and clutched his head.
“What the hell happened?” He looked the room over through barely opened eyes.
Nathan raised a hand, shiny with blood, and motioned frantically for me to help him. “I don’t know where he’s bleeding from.”
“Oh, shit!” Ziggy’s eyes grew wide at the sight of his blood on Nathan’s hands. He struggled to his feet. The window shade had nearly been torn down during the brick’s dramatic entrance. A few rays of sunlight spilled into the room. Ziggy was careful to keep those beams of light between Nathan and himself.
When the smell of the blood hit me, I understood his reaction. I felt the muscles and tendons of my face rhythmically clench, and my fangs began their aching descent.
“Not now, Carrie!” Nathan snapped.
His sharp tone surprised me, and my transformation stopped instantly.
Ziggy looked from Nathan to me, as if trying to judge the best escape route. Nathan approached him cautiously. “Remember who you’re talking to, Ziggy. I would never hurt you. I know you’re not food.”
Dahlia was still in the street, but she appeared to be running out of steam. “Are you waiting for sunset so you can come out and kick my ass? I’ll have a lot of backup by then.”
“Get out of here, Dahlia, or I can’t be responsible for my actions!” Nathan roared.
“Oh, I’m so scared,” she yelled back. “What are you gonna do, bookstore man? Read me to death? I’m going. I was just supposed to deliver the message.”
“What message?” Nathan asked.
Just then the shade fell completely from the window, flooding the room with sunlight. Nathan cursed and dropped to the floor. My reflexes weren’t as good.
Words can’t accurately describe how sunlight feels when it hits vampire skin. The worst sunburn couldn’t compare with the searing pain that rocked through me. My skin bubbled then burst into flame anywhere the light made contact with it. My shirt caught fire from my incinerating skin, spreading the flames to the rest of my torso. The only thing I could think of was