Page 86 of So Thirsty

I shut my eyes, and they’re all waiting for me in the dark. Matthew, slumped against a tree trunk, neck slack, sleeve pushed up, the vicious array of teeth marks on his wrist. The man at the rest stop, his neck butchered, his lack of pulse. The woman at the gas station, the gaping hole across her cheek. The convenience-store clerk. The woman thrown from her hatchback. The truck driver with his hollow eyes, wheezing his last breaths.

Naomi’s right. I do think about death a lot, but in the abstract. Numbers on a Wikipedia page, in a news article. I never thought I’d be the cause.

“What do you think? We play cards?” Ilie says. “We play game?”

“Not cards,” Tatiana says. “I’m so bored of cards.”

“You’re bored of everything,” Elisa says.

“Of course I am,” she says. “It’s a miracle you’re not.”

“Naomi, you play cards?” Ilie asks.

“Where are we?” She yawns.

“Disneyland,” Henry says, and I kill my smile right before it hatches. I won’t be charmed by him. By any of them.

“I have actually been there once,” Ilie says, his excitement challenging my will. “It is very fun, but a little bit hard to be around so many people. Also, very expensive. But I ride roller coaster. As a boy, I could never imagine. So cool.”

I remind myself that an hour ago he was sipping from someone’s leg. The vampires’ ability to perpetrate and be so unfazed by such violence scares the hell out of me.

“What is the matter?” Elisa asks. “Our Naomi is very worried about something.”

“Not worried,” Naomi says. Must be nice. “Are we—do we, like, live here now?”

“Oh, no!” Elisa says, laughing. “We do not live anywhere. We live everywhere.”

“We like to travel. Keep it moving,” Ilie says. “It is part of the lifestyle.”

“We find new places,” Elisa says. “The castle is one of our winter places in America.”

“America is all McDonald’s and parking lots,” Tatiana says, sighing.

“It is not,” Elisa says. “I love it here.”

“Sloane and I were headed to North Carolina,” Naomi says. “My parents have a vacation house that’ll be empty ’til May. We could all stay there for a while.”

“Great,” I mumble to myself. “Sure. Why not? Invite them. Who cares?”

“Vacation house sounds nice!” Ilie says. “We go there.”

“No, no. We’ve been in this horrible country far too long,” Tatiana says. “Let’s go overseas.”

Ilie and Tatiana start to argue back and forth, and I push myself to stand. “I’m going for a walk.”

Naomi moves to follow me.

“Alone,” I say.

—

I trudge through the snow, past a maypole, down Storybook Lane, with little kiosks that look like enchanted mushrooms. My socks are soaked through, and I shiver against a cold that can’t harm me beyond mild discomfort.

There are stocks to my left, a silly photo op. There’s a fairy-tale tower, covered in painted vines. There’s an elaborate stage, the backdrop tall, with stairs up to a Juliet balcony. There’s a giant chessboard, mostly covered in snow. There’s a large pond, frozen over, with a Loch Ness–esque serpent in it, covered in iridescent green scales, its long body sinking under and rising up out of the ice. Its face is more adorable than ferocious. Icicles hang from its chin like whiskers.

As I stare out at the serpent, I become aware that I, too, am under observation. That I’m being watched. I whip around and see no one, but that doesn’t eliminate my suspicion.

I keep walking, and my footsteps are clumsy, sloshing around in the wet snow. I hear none other than my own, but that doesn’t change my mind either. If a threat is quiet, that doesn’t mean it isn’t a threat.