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“I will have my husband's family send you something in return, for me eating your food! Taking your space! I am very grateful.”
“Nonsense!”
We reached the harbor shortly after and I had not seen James since the evening before. Anxiety riddled my stomach that I would not get to say goodbye to him, but did that really matter? I was but a blip on his human radar. The men all cheered as they finally were back home with their shipment, and as soon as we docked, the commotion grew. I said my goodbyes to the few who had spoken to me and went quickly down the ramp into the throng of people on the docks. There was so much more noise than in Liverpool, crates flying through the air from cranes, seagulls calling in every direction.
The city wreaked of shit, and the people I pushed by smelled no better. It had been ages since I’d stepped foot in New York, it was a shock compared to London. I broke the throng of the harbor into the street, men and women all fighting to get here and there with their loads, carriages, and children. Some immigrants were running away from ships, afraid to be sent back to where they came from and others were hurrying to make it to Dublin by next week.
I pushed past a woman with her child when a hand gripped my shoulder, spinning me around. James smiled timidly.
“Are you leaving already? Would you kindly introduce my father and I to your husband's family?” he asked, people shoving him to get around. “We want to make sure you make it safely to them.”
“James, my husband's family is not here. My husband isn’t even dead. I can take care of myself, now please, I must leave.” I curtsied and turned. James grabbed my wrist, spinning me toward him again, pulling me into his chest.
“Don’t leave, Rose. Please, I love you and I want this, I want you.” he kissed my forehead. I choked on the cry, tears pooling in my eyes as I looked up at him.
“This time together with you has been a much needed holiday, believe me, but I’m not the one.”
“You don’t know that,” he insisted. “I’m sorry I did not come to you sooner, I needed to clear my head.”
“I understand,” I whispered as he tightened his grip around me. “But my heart will always belong to another.”
“I don’t want you to leave…” James’s voice broke under the emotion, he buried his face in my hair and I knew I would need to make a break for it if I had any hopes of losing him. I pulled back, disentangling myself from his feeble human grip, one hand out in front of me to stop him from reaching for me again.
“Please, be happy,” I squeaked. “Be happy and don’t think of me.”
His hands groped the air, a protest leaving his lips as I turned on my heel and ran. With inhuman speed I careened around the bodies in the streets toward the north, for several blocks. I did not stop until I knew I was far enough away he would have no hopes of looking for me. Here, the people had thinned enough for me to breathe and pay attention to where I was going. Should I take the train? Or would running be faster?
I went to the train station, perhaps the time on the train would allowmeto clear my head, it would most certainly push me farther out from my next feed. James’s voice shifted in and out of mind, merging and unmerging with William’s face. The station was but a short walk from where I’d slowed, and the crowd had thickened there in their haste to leave the city. I went up to the ticket window, an old man sat behind it spitting tobacco into a cup.
“What can I do for you?” he asked tartly. I fiddled with the lace of my dress in anxiety. I had no money.
“When is the next train to Boston?”
“In about five minutes. Let me get your fare,” he raised an eyebrow at me, and I realized I no doubt looked haggard compared to the polished women of the city.
“I am afraid I have no means to pay, sir.”
“That certainly is a misfortune, I can't do nothing for you unless you got some money.” He spat again, calling for the next customer. I leaned into his window, begging him with my eyes.
“Please, sir, can you help me? I’ve nothing,” I whispered. He shook his head.
“No. Rules are rules. Get out of here! Next!” he called again. In desperation, my fangs sprang forth, the stress and mental turmoil poured out of me onto this man, compelling him to give me the ticket.
“You'll let me ride, won't you? Because if you do not, I will snap your neck in two and not think a thing about it.”
The man was shaking, spluttering, chewed tobacco leaves dotting his lips. With a quivering hand, he stuck the ticket through the window, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. I swiped up the ticket, tucking my fangs back in and softening my brow. “I am truly sorry.”
The ride to Boston was long and grew painful as the tightly packed bodies flooded all my senses. I was pleased for the clouds and rain when we arrived, unsure if I could have handled the sun from the way my instincts had been triggered into violence. Halfway in between cities, with the windows wide open and the fresh air flooding my face, I had to grip the seat to ensure I did not kill anyone. Hunting was not an option anymore, but a must.
After we arrived, I took to the outskirts, running through the thick forest, observing the cityscape from a distance as I did. Thirty years made entirely too much of a difference and that saddened my heart.
I stumbled upon a scavenger, a basket on her arm filled with various plants. She was trimming some sort of golden fungus from a tree, humming a song to herself as she did. Before I could process much else, I plowed into her, slinging her body into another tree with a deafening snap.
She didn’t have time to cry out, didn’t have time to beg as I latched onto her neck, sucking greedily until she hung listless in my arms. She was like a fine wine, fruity and well fed and I drained her mercilessly.
These were the sort of kills that drove me to hate myself. The ones that left a hole in my conscience, nibbling away until I was sure to go mad. This woman had not done anything to deserve this, not in the way some of my other victims had.
Guilt for who I was wrapped around inside me, and though my core had warmed with her blood, I still felt cold. Sitting her against the tree, slicing her neck just where I’d punctured her skin, I peeled her hooded cloak from her body and donned it myself. Surprisingly, I had not spilled a drop of her in my ravenous haste.
