Blood Awakening Read online

  “Whatevs,” she said, using her hand to exaggerate her disdain. “Truth time.” She stared long and hard at me, so long that I almost asked if she had forgotten how to speak. No such luck on that one. “Do you like him?” Her knees were drawn up to her chin, her hands clasped around her bare legs.

  Hello, obvious. “I don’t know,” I answered, my mind going over the past few weeks. “We’ve gotten close, I’m not gonna lie. And I like being around him. He’s funny and sweet and thoughtful.”

  “Are we talking about the same Erik?”

  “Yes, we’re talking about the same Erik.” I smiled at her and rolled my eyes. But then, I took a moment to really think about it. “Actually, no, we’re not. This Erik’s different. He’s changed. He’s more open now, more aware of his own feelings. I guess losing Lila did that.”

  “Yeah, I can see it, too.” Kayla stretched out her legs and slid down beneath her blanket. Papers ebbed and moved like waves, some rolling off the bed onto the floor.

  “You can?” I asked, mimicking her movements, getting comfortable again. I didn’t say that both Erik and I had noticed the same changes in her. I guess that night and all that happened changed them both.

  “Sure. How could I not? He’s been through hell. That would change anybody.” I didn’t say anything, so after a few seconds, she threw in a “good night” and turned out the light. As I lay there in the darkness, I couldn’t help but think about myself and how I, too, had changed.

  And how losing Chance was the reason why.

  ***

  The next morning came too soon, and with it, school—which was the last place I wanted to be. I hadn’t slept all that well, my mind packed with thoughts of Chance and Erik and vampires. How was I supposed to kill more vampires to become human again if I couldn’t even keep my nonexistent love life in check? Ugh.

  Kayla was already downstairs, inhaling her breakfast, when I came into the kitchen. I plucked a banana from the bowl on the counter and sat down at the table with her.

  “You know what today is, right?” she asked around bites of toaster waffles drenched in gooey melted butter and thick syrup. Now that I was half vampire, food wasn’t as appealing to me. But the feast piled on her plate smelled really good.

  “Um, Monday,” I muttered, confused about why she asked. I took a bite of banana, washing it down with Diet Coke. Breakfast of Champions.

  “Not just Monday, moron. He’s back today.” She stood up from the table and tossed the last bite of waffle into the trash. I couldn’t help but notice yet more files stacked on the end of the kitchen counter, eagerly awaiting Kayla’s one-track brain to pilfer them.

  “Oh. Yeah.” I suddenly couldn’t finish my banana.

  Chance.

  Chance would be back in school today. The first time since that night in the clearing. My stomach lurched at the thought of seeing him again, of finally being able to confront him about ignoring me all these weeks. What would I say? What would I do? Would I even be able to look him in the face? Great, just what I needed, more questions I couldn’t answer.

  I decided that ignorance is bliss. “So, um, are you ready?”

  “That’s it?” Kayla asked, scooping the files, her purse and car keys off the kitchen counter. “That’s all you have to say? ‘Are you ready?’ Come on, Ava.”

  “What? What should I say? ‘OMG, he’s back!’ That’s not me.”

  “I know that’s not you. I’m not saying you should go all Super Sweet 16. But I did think you’d at least be happy.” I followed her out to the car, locking the door behind me.

  “I am happy, Kayla. I am. It’s just that I’m mad, too, you know? I mean, why hasn’t he called me? Why hasn’t he come to see me? I don’t get it.” We climbed into her mom’s Volvo and Kayla cranked up the heat. The inside of the car was toasty by the time we made it to the highway. “Do you think maybe he’s mad at me?” I absentmindedly fidgeted with the cord on my hoodie.

  “I don’t think he’s mad,” she answered, her eyes glued to the road since a light March mix of snow and ice had begun to fall. “I’m sure he’s hurt, and probably scared. But he has no reason to be mad at you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I don’t think he’ll see it that way. I don’t.” I blamed myself for what happened to Chance. How could I expect him to be any different?

  “Why don’t you just calm down and not stress over it, okay? You’ll be seeing him in a few, so you can find out for real.” It scared me speechless knowing I would be face-to-face with Chance in a matter of minutes; so much so that I spent the rest of the ride to school in a semi-stressed silence, Kayla focused on driving, me on what I was going to say to Chance once I actually laid eyes on him. As we pulled into the parking lot and Kayla squeezed the Volvo into what I knew wasn’t a legal space, my nerves had given a bit of room in my body for excitement, and I found that I truly was happy about seeing Chance again. I just hoped he felt the same way.

  I noticed his beat-up old truck the moment I stepped out of the car, parked at the far end of the lot, just like always. Nostalgia tugged at my heart as I stood there, the New England wind swirling around me like a frigid cocoon. I missed the few times we’d shared in that truck, the arguing and the closeness and the friendship.

  That’s it. That’s what I miss most about Chance.

  Our friendship.

  Even though my heart longed to have him back completely, I wanted more than anything to just be friends with him again, to have him there if I needed him, if he needed me. I vowed then to accept friendship if that was all he could offer.

  I watched with fear in my spine as he climbed from the truck cab, his backpack slung over his shoulder and his head facing the icy asphalt of the school parking lot. I didn’t have to say a word to Kayla; she knew.

  “Go on,” she said, practically shoving me toward him. I wanted to run to him, to throw my arms around his neck and squeeze the life I took from him back into his veins. I wanted to coat his face with kisses and bury my nose into the soft, warm skin of his neck and forget about the past month he had been ignoring me. I wanted to tell him that I was so desperately, infinitely sorry for what I had done, and that I would spend the rest of my life making it up to him.

  But I did none of those things. Instead, I death-gripped the suddenly heavy straps of my own backpack and took tiny, timid steps in his direction. My heart leapt into the center of my throat, thumping like the bass in Kayla’s stereo. I kept swallowing over and over as I carefully crossed the large expanse of parking lot—mostly due to the sheet of ice that had settled there, but also because I was scared as hell—hoping to quell the pounding that was desperately urging me to turn and run. I wouldn’t turn and run. I wouldn’t be a coward. Not again.

  I was several yards away when Chance spotted me. He stopped walking and lifted his head; those hypnotic jade eyes were staring at me—though somewhat dimmer than before. My face filled with blood, my cheeks burning as though it was the first time he had looked at me. And then the realization hit me: it was the first time he’d looked at me. The first time since he became a vampire. The first time since I’d turned him into one. I stopped walking then, too, the words “BIG MISTAKE” flashing in my mind, my fingers curled around the backpack strap so tightly my knuckles were painfully white.

  What now? Do I go over and say hi? Do I smile and wave like nothing has happened? Do I turn and walk away, with my shameful tail tucked between my legs?

  That last one sounded like a winner to me, and I had totally settled on playing the role of coward and bolting, but Chance wasn’t having it. With slumped shoulders, he slowly began crossing toward me. My heart began beating wildly again, and I desperately wanted something to sit down on or lean against, because I knew I was seconds from blacking out.

  “Hey.” Chance’s baritone voice crept into my ears and filled my head with warmth and love and all the things I had
been missing over the past month. Just one tiny word, and it was as though the two of us had never been apart—as though the horrors of that night in the woods never happened.

  “Hi,” I said back, doing my best to ignore his own white-knuckled grip on his backpack straps. “How are you?” I fought not to stutter, suddenly at a loss for words. Before all this happened, before I ruined Chance’s life and condemned him to an eternity of damnation, we could talk for hours about nothing, about everything. Now, it took all I had inside me to muster four meaningless words.

  “I’m okay,” he answered through a huff of frozen breath. “First day back.”

  “That’s right.” I tried to play it off like I hadn’t noticed him gone, like I hadn’t been swirling in a pool of depression and remorse and grief for the past twenty-nine days, wallowing in thick self-pity over what I had done. “Nervous?”

  “Um, yeah, a little, I guess. I’m not sure how this is gonna work, you know?” It only took a second for me to realize what he was talking about:

  Blood.

  Chance was about to face what I had only a few months ago: a thrumming, pulsing epicenter of teenage veins. My heart broke for him all over again.

  “Don’t worry,” I said, moving to stand next to him. Right away, I noticed that the heat normally radiating off of him was gone. My heart broke a little for me, too. “I’m here if you need me.” He opened his mouth to speak—probably to tell me that he didn’t need my help, that I had done enough already—but instead began walking toward the main building. I couldn’t help but notice the stares from some of our classmates and peers. I wasn’t sure if they were looking because Chance’s suddenly pale skin and lack of confidence screamed “vampire,” or if it was because for the past month, the two of us hadn’t been seen together. I dropped my eyes to the floor in a lame attempt to avoid all the judging eyes.

  “You okay?” I asked as we drew closer to the building. I could no longer sense Chance’s anxiety or stress, the comforting lull of his heartbeat, or the sweet scent of his blood I had grown to love. I wanted to scream and cry and punish myself for taking that away from him—and from me, if I was being honest—and leaving him this way, this empty shell of the wonderful guy he was before. I had hated myself before, but never more than at that moment.

  “I think so,” he answered, his words catching in his throat. I knew he wasn’t telling the truth, at least not completely. Because I could smell it, too, that alluring, blinding scent of flowing blood that for the past several months had practically ruled over me. I could smell it—and it was hard to resist—so I could only imagine how powerful it was to Chance. I looked over at him, those beautiful eyes swirling frantically and the tiny muscles running the length of his defined jaw curling back and forth. He was terrified.

  Without even thinking, I reached over and laced my fingers into his. At first, I wanted to pull away—his hand was so cold and lifeless—but I held a firm grip, letting him know that he wasn’t alone, and that I would be there always. Even though I could no longer feel his heartbeat, I knew he calmed down. The tension that had been holding his shoulders up disappeared, and his large, muscular frame relaxed a bit, though not entirely. I could still see nervous energy behind his eyes, an energy that scared me.

  What if he vamps out and begins eating the student body, Ava? What are you gonna do then?

  I virtually bitch-slapped my inner voice. The last thing I needed was to second-guess myself. I would never let something like that happen. After all Chance had done for me, I would die before I let him do anything to jeopardize his life—or unlife—I’d already done a bang-up job of that. As we made it to the steps leading into school, Chance let go of my hand, my fingers instantly missing his.

  “Okay,” he said, trying to sound upbeat. “This is it.”

  “Don’t worry,” I repeated like a lackluster mantra, “you’ll be fine.” Chance stood still for a moment, simply staring up at the large metal doors that housed his new Biggest Fear. I thought for a moment that he wasn’t going to go through with it, that he was having the same thought I’d had a moment ago: Turn and run. But he finally took one step, then another, making his way into the school. As I followed close behind, I suddenly realized that for the entire walk across campus—when I was fighting the urge to wrap myself around him and whisk us away to the past—he hadn’t even looked at me.

  Maybe he wasn’t as over it as I had hoped.

  MOVEMENT

  Chance’s first day back at school was uneventful. He managed to avoid biting anyone, though he did tell me during lunch that he could smell each person’s blood, and that it was killing him to be there. I tried to reassure him that it would get better, that it would be easier to manage as time went on, but I really had no right to say any of that. I technically wasn’t a vampire, so who was I to tell him anything? This should’ve been Aldric’s job, helping Chance navigate his way through his new existence. Just one more reason I didn’t like my Creator.

  When school let out for the day, I found myself hanging around outside the gym, waiting for Chance like nothing had changed. Like he was going to come bouncing outside and throw his arm around me, and the two of us would skip off to his truck and live happily ever after. Just as I realized how moronic I was being and turned to leave, the double doors of the gymnasium flew open and Chance came out, exhaling a pent-up breath.

  “That bad?” I asked, trying not to look like I had been stalking him.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, the day’s over. You made it. That has to count for something.”

  “I guess.” He looked around—I’m guessing for an escape from the awkward tension between us—before lowering his voice and adding, “I’m so hungry. I don’t know how much longer I can go without feeding.”

  His words—and the crazed look in his eyes—were unsettling. Practically from the moment he lifted me out of that coffin all those months ago, Chance had been very forthcoming about his hatred for vampires and their assault on humanity. Seeing him suddenly comfortable with everything was almost too much to bear. I shook off the shivers trying to climb my back. “What did Aldric say to do?” Aldric’s name left a bitter taste in my mouth—one that I wanted to wash away with soap…or acid.

  “He has bags at home, but they’re not cutting it.” The thought of Chance sitting down to watch an episode of The Walking Dead (his fave show, though I have no clue why) with a couple bags of O negative on a plate brought the shivers back. They crawled along my skin as I fought the urge to gag. Which made no sense, seeing as how I drank blood, too; though I was getting the feeling that Chance enjoyed the experience much more than me.

  “You want me to drive you?”

  Sure, Ava. He wants the girl who turned him into a blood-drinking corpse to take him home. Fun times.

  That voice again. Sometimes I hated me.

  “I’ll be fine.” Three little words that hid many more: “I don’t want you around me”; “You’re the last person I want to drive me anywhere”; “Stay away from me, you murderer”; I could almost hear him saying those things—or at least thinking them.

  “Okay,” I said, defeated. I tugged tightly on my backpack, already dreading what was coming. “See you tomorrow.” I offered a shy smile and walked away from him, from the guy I loved—by far one of the most difficult things I had done since waking up half dead. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a tiny voice was telling me that it was for the final time, and a twitch in my heart was agreeing. I had fought a coven of vampires, trained with one of the oldest and most powerful monsters in the world, and even survived high school. And yet, turning my back on Chance was near impossible to do.

  “Ava?” Chance’s voice behind me, close. I stopped and turned to find him trotting to catch up to me. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m being an ass, I know it.” He was looking down at his feet, which were busy scooting loose rocks back and forth across the paveme
nt.

  “No, I’m sorry,” I said, fighting back tears. “For all of this.”

  “You don’t have to be.” He looked up and at me—really at me—and moved closer. So close that had he still been alive, I would have gotten a blast of the electric heat that used to permeate off of him. “You didn’t do this.”

  “I did.” I suddenly couldn’t look him in the eye, focusing instead on the gym wall behind him. “I made him do it, Chance. I made Aldric turn you into a vampire.” His body shifted slightly; he was clearly still uncomfortable with the word. Probably more so, now.

  “He told me what happened,” he responded, his voice soft. His eyes dropped again.

  “You don’t remember?” I asked, surprised.

  “Not really. Just bits and pieces.”

  Boy, did I know what that feeling was like. “So what do you remember?”

  He looked at me again. “I remember you saying you love me.” That’s what I had been fishing for, had been praying he would say. The pain and torture he suffered at the hands of Sebastian and his evil mongers, the loss of the life he once knew because of what I had done, those things could have been washed away forever. It would have been too much had he lost the memory of my words; I was overjoyed he hadn’t.

  “It’s true,” I said, mimicking the soft tone of his voice. “I love you, Chance.” I expected—hoped—he would smile and say it back, and tell me that he would always love me.

  “I’m sorry, Ava,” he answered, not at all what I was yearning for. “But I can’t do this right now.”

  “I know.” I was crushed, completely. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He finally looked at me again, his eyes filled with pieces of the old him melded with the new. “I just can’t deal with everything going on inside me. It’s all too much.” A short pause, then, “I just have some stuff to deal with right now. I need some space.” I had anticipated that, anticipated him saying he didn’t want me around; it didn’t make it any easier to hear.