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As the blood trickles to nothing, I’m finally able to break from the bloodlust and release Colin from my grip.
What the hell was that about? I’ve never drunk blood before, it’s creepy and weird, but Colin didn’t try to stop me, so perhaps he enjoyed it too. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I start to untangle myself from him. At some point, we must have fallen back onto the bed, so it takes effort for me to climb off him, especially with how full I feel now.
Colin looks strange. His face is set in a mask of pleasure, but his skin is grey. I reach out to touch his hand, then I jerk it back when I feel how cold he is. Everything comes crashing down in a horrifying rush. Oh no, what have I done?
With my heart in my throat and terror in my gut, I touch him again and feel for his pulse.
Nothing. I just killed my boyfriend.
Worst birthday ever.
Chapter Two
As I stare at my boyfriend’s fresh corpse, the reality of what I just did starts to hit home.
“Oh shit.” My words are slurred. I sound drunk. Am I high on blood? Is that even a thing? Oh God, am I a cannibal now? When I was a child, I never would have imagined this was what my life would become. I can see the headlines now—Cannibal Florist Sucks Boyfriend Dry, Fangs a lot… The woman who thanked her boyfriend for a meal by killing him, or even something simple like The Kiss of Death.
Shit, shit, shit. I’m a murderer. I’m going to go to jail, and I look terrible in orange. I really need advice and someone to stop me from spiralling, and I know the exact person who can help me.
“Tina?” I call, my voice coming out in a wobble. Nothing, zilch, nada. She must not have heard me. “Tina!” I shout this time, my panic threatening to take over, making me sound high-pitched and squeaky. She is the only person I trust, and she is the closest thing I have to family. I need her.
A thud from the direction of her room tells me she heard me this time, and it’s followed by loud, thundering footsteps that get closer with every second. The door swings open, and she stands in the entrance like a looming, dark presence or an avenging angel. Tina may be my best friend, but she can be bloody scary at times. If Colin wasn’t already dead, he would fear for his life right now.
“What happened?” she demands, the accusation in her voice clear to hear. Her eyes first lock on the male on the bed, then her gaze swings to me. “If he fucking hurt you, I’ll…” She trails off, and I’m not sure if it’s because she noticed I’m covered in blood or Colin’s pale, empty body on my bed.
Anxiety twists in my stomach, so I stay quiet, allowing her to come to her own conclusions first.
“Emmy,” she says calmly, not pulling her gaze from the body on the bed. “Why does Colin look like he’s dead?”
Wincing, I attempt to make myself smaller, rounding my shoulders and tucking my head down as I wring my hands in front of me. “I think I killed him,” I finally whisper, my words a lisp. Admitting it aloud is so much worse, because it suddenly becomes real.
Oh God, what have I done? My mind begins to spiral in panic. I’ll be locked away for sure, classed as a danger to society. Perhaps I am. Maybe I should be locked away. No, it was an accident, and I don’t even know why it happened in the first place. I don’t feel the urge to latch onto Tina’s neck and drink her blood. Besides, there is no way I’ll be able to continue doing my flower arrangements from prison, and without my flowers, I’ll have no joy in life.
As though she can feel me descending into panic-induced madness, Tina takes a deep breath and finally manages to pull her eyes away from Colin. “Okay, let’s figure this out—Whoa! What the fuck is wrong with your face?”
My heart thuds in my chest. There’s something wrong with the way I look? Running over to the mirror, I shriek at what I see. I look like I just stumbled off a horror movie set. Blood is smeared all over my chin, and my shirt is stained with it. The most shocking things about what I see in my reflection, though, are the two long fangs that seem to have appeared, extending over my bottom lip. No wonder I was talking with a lisp.
“I have fangs, and I drank his blood…” I trail off, not knowing how to explain what I was thinking when it all took place. As I look back on it, everything is a blur of need and thirst.
“So, what, you’re a vampire now?” The sarcasm in Tina’s voice makes it clear she’s just joking, but something clicks within me now that she’s labelled it.
Is that what happened? I’m a vampire? It would explain why I was so hungry for his blood when I’ve never been interested before. Then there is the steak. I had my steak rare, something I would never normally do. More and more, I’ve found that my food isn’t sustaining me, yet the blood makes me feel alive. How do you even become a vampire anyway? I’ve not been bitten as far as I’m aware.
A nervous laugh escapes me, becoming louder and more hysterical by the second. A vampire. Of all of the things to be. My laughter intensifies as Tina watches on with a raised brow, clearly thinking I’ve lost the plot. She would be right.
Shaking her head, she strides over and grips my shoulders, giving me a slight shake until I stop laughing. “Emmy, snap out of it. We need to figure this out.”
She’s right, this is serious, and losing my mind right now won’t be helpful for anyone.
“Okay, sorry. I needed to get it out of my system,” I reply, holding up my hand in acknowledgement. “I’m listening. What should I do?”
Tina has always been good at coming up with plans, whereas I’m a little more chaotic in how I go about my life. I can flit from place to place and project to project as easily as breathing. Tina, on the other hand, needs time to complete everything, see everything, do everything, before she can move onto anything else. She’s both brilliant and infuriating at the same time, and when our personalities mix together, magic happens—which is exactly why I wanted her here. If anyone is going to get me out of this, it will be her.
Giving me one last look, like she’s assessing if I’m talking shit or not, she nods and slowly turns back to glare at the body on the bed. “Why does he look like that anyway?”
To be fair, Colin’s face is set in a strange expression, like he was in the throes of ecstasy when he died. His lips are pulled back in a passionate smile. Honestly, he looks like he froze right at the point of having an orgasm, and it’s freaking me out.
“Maybe it felt good?” I suggest tentatively.
