Thirst (8 page)

“She’s a
volunteer. The vamp does it to keep her on side. If they do it
regularly enough then she manages to carry some of the vampire
poison in her body. It affects some parts of her and not others.
You understand?”

“Eh,
no.”

“Look,” Peter
said, his tone impatient. “She’s still human, obviously, but she’s
kept enough of the poison in her system to keep her body young,
that’s all. Vampires leave her alone because she’s a volunteer. Her
vamp likes having some guarantees around when he wants a quick
snack. Plus, a volunteer lasts a lot longer than someone who’s been
enthralled. Or so I’ve been told.”

We both looked at
Carl, who was shuffling his feet and lagging behind us, then
exchanged worried glances.

“All of this
vampire stuff is too complicated for words.” I was way out of my
league and tired of having to have everything explained to
me.

Peter raised his
eyebrows. “Shouldn’t you know more about it than me?”

He still thought
of me as a real vampire. Maybe a stupid one. I wasn’t interested in
filling him in, so I avoided the question.

“Anyway, do you
think she was telling the truth? About this Arthur vampire, I mean.
Is it him and will she tell him?”

“I reckon she
thinks it’s him, but whether she tells him or not... well, your
guess is as good as mine. Becca does what works for her, and she’s
careful. That’s why she’s still alive. She didn’t like you, by the
way.”

“Yeah, there’s a
lot of that going around. I had a feeling she knew about me, like
she was expecting me.”

Peter rubbed the
cross on his wrist as he considered this. “Maybe. There’s no
telling with her. She’s different when the poison is fresh in her
system.”

“And did you see
the way she looked at Carl?”

Peter nodded.
“Like he was dinner. She completely ignored him apart from that. I
suppose she’s used to entranced humans in her bar.”

I didn’t want to
see that woman down any dark alleyways, but I decided it was
something best left to myself. I was unwilling to let Peter know I
was a coward.

“By the way,
kinda pretty?” he said as we queued up at a taxi rank, raising his
eyebrows quizzically. It took me a minute to realise he was
referring to my description of Arthur.

“Oh, shut up. I
just meant he isn’t as wretched looking as most vamps I’ve
seen.”

I couldn’t get a
read from his expression, but I knew he had to be wondering about
me. It was pretty obvious I was something very different to the
creatures he was used to.

“So what next, we
come back after dark?” I said, changing the subject.

“Probably. You
can see if you recognise your witness. Who knows? Maybe he’ll
approach us first.”

We got a taxi
back to my place because it was well protected, although Peter
informed me that most of the charms and spells I had purchased were
junk made to rip people off.

“I’m not exactly
up on the latest witchcraft,” I told him, feeling defensive as he
tutted at yet another useless talisman.

“Where on earth
did you get all of this junk?”

“Online.” He gave
me a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ look. “Really,” I insisted. “I
buy and sell things online, that’s how I make money. Sometimes I
come across this kind of thing, and I keep it instead of selling it
on.”

“So what, you’re
a vamp who makes her living on eBay? Now I’ve seen
everything.”

I couldn’t help
blushing; I knew I made a pretty naff vampire. He wandered around
the flat, immediately picking out all of the hidden
talismans.

“How do you know
where they’re hidden?” I said, cross he was so comfortable in my
home when I was on the edge of my seat in his presence.

“That’s part of my job. Finding things.
God, this really
is
crap,” he
scorned, picking up an alleged ancient artefact. “I’ll have to
recommend a few merchants to you. Although I admit the stuff that
actually works is pretty good. Maybe Eddie would sell you a couple
of things.”

I fingered the
cross around my neck, possessive despite knowing it wasn’t mine to
keep. “I don’t know whether to trust him or not.”

“Me either. But
I’ve never known him to harm an innocent.”

“Guess I should
stay innocent then,” I said, before realising what it sounded like.
My face grew hot. Peter moved away from me, looking as awkward as I
felt, and continued his assessment of my protection spells. I was
technically borderline innocent, but he really didn’t need to know
that. The more time I spent with Peter, the more of my naivety I
accidentally revealed.

Once the tension
showed no sign of dissipating, Peter announced he was going to get
a car. As he left, he muttered something about not being able to
bear squashing himself into a backseat with me and Carl again. I
chewed my nails in agitation while he was gone, worrying he
wouldn’t return. I lay on my bed and wondered about how much being
my man slave was affecting Carl. Peter said the enthralled didn’t
last long, but I didn’t know if that was because they kept getting
drained or worse—their brains couldn’t hold up to the mind
control.

The good thing
about worrying about Carl was that it distracted me from other
things. Like what Eddie was, the fact he knew my grandmother and
his enigmatic mentions of a Seer. Then, of course, there was the
little fact I was planning on walking straight into a vampire bar
and pretty much demanding that a hungry killer do me a
favour.

“Ava,” murmured
Carl, startling me out of my reverie.

“What’s wrong?” I
said, turning around to look at him. “Oh, shit.”

With a dopey grin
etched on his face and a sharp kitchen knife in his hand, Carl
stumbled toward me, blood flowing steadily down his neck. I froze
as he shut the door behind him, closing us into the bedroom
together. The scent of his blood hit me, and all of a sudden, I was
ravenous.

“Please, Carl, go
away, you don’t know what you’re doing!” My fangs shot out—I
couldn’t help it. The cross around my neck had eased my thirst for
a while, but an open vein in front of me undid all of its good
work. Despite my pleas, Carl kept coming at me, not stopping until
his body loomed over mine on the bed. I didn’t know what to do, so
I closed my eyes, put one hand over my mouth and screamed, pushing
at him frantically. I felt his blood drip onto my fingers. Warm,
vital and oh, so tempting. I’m bigger than this, I told
myself.

“Get away from
me!” I yelled, managing to push him back with my knees. It gave me
enough space to roll over, and I hoped the blood wouldn’t
accidentally fall into my mouth. I was tempted, though—so much
fresh blood, right there, going to waste. I ached for it, but I
knew that if I started, I wouldn’t stop.

“Come on, Ava,”
Carl said, pulling me over and onto my back with ridiculous ease.
He was unnaturally strong, and it seemed as though the more that I
backed away, the more he pushed.

Tears poured down
my eyes as I fought wildly against the urge to lap his blood off my
fingers. I clamped my clean hand over my fangs as hard as I could,
and hit out blindly with my other arm. I connected, but Carl didn’t
falter for a second.

He pinned my arm
down and struggled to pull my hand away from my mouth. It took all
of my strength to resist him, but I knew it was only a matter of
time before I gave in.

“Please, stop!” I
let out a sob, unable to understand why he wasn’t obeying me. Carl
was turning out to be the worst minion ever.

Just as I felt my
resolve weakening, Peter burst through the bedroom door, his eyes
wide, probably in disgust at seeing my fangs. I knew he was going
to kill me, and part of me wanted him to. I couldn’t fight anymore.
Carl was still struggling to force his blood on me as Peter grabbed
his shoulders and wrestled him to the ground. I tried to lie still
and ignore the sounds of both men fighting—I needed to get a grip
on myself and contain the thirst. My whole body shuddered with
fear. I had been seconds away from giving in, seconds away from
becoming the monster everyone already thought I was. I counted the
cracks in the ceiling, finding comfort in the numbers.

A hand touched my
shoulder. Faster than I could think, I was huddled in the corner,
my back against the wall.

Peter stared at
me, confused and even a little concerned. “Are you okay?” he asked,
holding his hands out toward me like he didn’t know what else to
do.

I nodded but
stayed put.

“Ava, what are
you doing?” he asked, his tone gentler than usual.

I realised I was
multiplying out loud. I shook myself out of traumatised little girl
mode and tried to act normal.

“Where’s Carl?” I
asked, hoping he would ignore the tremble in my voice.

“Knocked out on
the floor. Don’t worry, he’s okay. I’m going to clean him up. Maybe
you should... take a minute.” He almost sounded friendly. That was
a first, but I was too numb to care. If he had arrived a minute
later, he would have caught me feasting on Carl—I was sure of
it.

I dragged myself
into the bathroom and locked the door. Gazing into the mirror, I
saw a tired-looking girl with messy, unnaturally red hair and a
complexion that was too pale to be real. My blood-shot eyes were
rimmed with pink, and my cheeks were tear-stained. I scowled at my
reflection. I was so weak that I couldn’t even protect myself
against a human with no control of his brain. It was ridiculous. I
took long, deep breaths, but my hands wouldn’t stop
shaking.

After a few
minutes, I reluctantly joined the others in the living room. Carl
smiled innocently at me, but all I wanted to do was hit him hard.
Peter stared at me, his expression unreadable.

“Carl, go take a
shower,” he ordered. I nodded my agreement and moved across the
room to get out of Carl’s path to the bathroom.

“You feeling
alright yet?” Peter asked when Carl left the room.

“Of
course.”

“That was pretty
intense back there,” he continued. “I heard you screaming; I didn’t
know what to make of it. Then I saw... well, it wasn’t what I
expected.”

“Yeah, so are you
ready to go?”

He walked over to
me, didn’t back off even though I did. He touched my chin lightly
and studied my face. “What are you, Ava?”

My skin felt like
it was burning. I didn’t want to drink from him, but I wanted
something. That’s why I had to push him away, before I made a
mistake.

“What happened
you, Peter?” I said as coolly as I could manage.

His face
hardened. “Yeah, I’m ready to go. I’ll wait by the car until you
get Carl sorted,” he said. Leaving me with Carl was his petty
punishment for my words.

As soon as he
left, my pulse raced with fear. I didn’t want to be alone with Carl
again. But Carl acted like nothing had happened. I tried not to
look at the bandage on his neck as I ordered him downstairs to
Peter’s car. I headed for the passenger seat of the dark green
Cordoba, surprised by how much my hands were still
shaking.

“You’re in the
back,” Peter said. “Carl, up front.”

I was just happy
he was letting me forget what had happened in my apartment with
Carl, so I got into the backseat without any fuss.

Maybe it was
nerves, but I couldn’t help giggling to myself, especially when the
radio came on playing show tunes. Peter growled something
incoherent and switched the station. Within minutes, Carl had
fallen asleep again, so I was left alone with my
thoughts.

The streets
became familiar as we drove. More memories. I kept flashing back to
my grandmother crying about the devil inside me. Of me standing
awkwardly beside her, not knowing what to do and accused of being a
heartless demon. I was nine.

That time, the man she turned to for help
had been true evil—the source of many nightmares. I had bitten him
and told him my vampire father would kill him. That was after he
made me eat salt for an hour one day. He laughed out loud and told
me there were no such things as vampires. Granny refused to believe
he wasn’t helping, but he was just another in a long line of conmen
who inevitably disappointed her. That was when I went through a
stage of wanting to be a
real
vampire. Stupid kid.

Big contrast to
how I felt as we drove to the vampire bar. My whole body twitched
with nerves. There was too much going on—my thirst for Carl, my
attraction to Peter, and the fact I was going to willingly show
myself to true vampires. Even counting Peter’s steady heartbeat
wasn’t enough to calm me down.

“Maybe we should
leave Carl somewhere. It might be too dangerous for him,” I
said.

“Nah,” Peter
said. “He’d do himself more damage looking for you.”

“We could go back
and lock him in at my place.”

Peter shook his
head. “He’d probably knock himself out trying to head-butt his way
through the door.” He glanced at Carl’s sleeping form. “Poor bloke
won’t last much longer, you know.”