The Vampire’s Redemption

Chapter 6

As it turned out, it was Jack’s blood, and what Stephen was, was a vampire. So was Michael.

Danielle sat by Jack’s bedside and tried to make sense of it all. So far, she was unsuccessful. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t wrap her mind around it. She couldn’t comprehend what she had seen. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the wild, crazed look in Stephen’s black irises. It made the blood in her veins run ice-cold.

Her blood. She still couldn’t come to terms with the idea that Michael had been craving her blood for all the time they had been dating. She still couldn’t accept that the blood on Stephen’s dark-green T-shirt had been Jack’s, and that Stephen’s fangs had glistened with it. Hell, she still couldn’t even accept that Stephen had fangs to begin with; it was simply too absurd.

And yet it was true, there was no denying it. Jack’s pale figure in the hospital bed was all the proof she needed, as well as the puncture marks on the left side of his neck, which the doctors had been quite baffled about.

The steady beeping of the heartbeat monitor did very little to soothe her thoughts and calm the tension in her whole body. Every time she looked over at her friend, she began to shake all over. The minute she had learned that the blood was Jack’s, Danielle had rushed out of the house, leaving Michael and Eli to deal with a very distressed Stephen. Now, hours later, Danielle didn’t wonder what they were doing. She didn’t wonder how Stephen was, if Michael had managed to get through to him. She didn’t wonder if Eli had gotten any bruises from having been thrown across the room when he tried to step in between her and Stephen. She didn’t wonder how Michael was feeling.

She didn’t care. The only thing Danielle cared about at the moment was making sure that Jack would be all right. She couldn’t think about anything else, wouldn’t think about anything else; she didn’t end up going to good places when she did. How stupid she had been, to offer Michael her heart like she had. How perfectly naïve. Michael may have said “I love you” back, against all odds, but Danielle knew now that he had not meant it. She knew what the darkness she had first sensed in Michael was now, and she knew it wasn’t a kind of darkness that allowed for love.

Danielle shook her head to push those thoughts away. She had been going in circles all night and she was exhausted and terrified. She ran her hands over her face and blew out a breath. She stood, stretching her aching back and working out the kinks in her neck. She checked on Jack and, satisfied that her friend was deeply asleep, she left the room and headed for the cafeteria.

Her head was spinning, and she didn’t know whether it was from lack of sleep or from everything that had happened. She got a fruit salad and a large coffee and settled at a table in the farthest corner of the room; she didn’t want to talk to anyone or risk any form of human contact whatsoever. She put extra milk and sugar in her coffee, because Michael only drank black coffee. It was very childish, but it still gave her a small pang of satisfaction.

She was halfway through her four a.m. snack when the last person she wanted to see walked into the large room. Michael paused just past the door and looked around. When he spotted her, he made his way over to her. Danielle clenched her fist under the table. She made to stand, but Michael had already gotten to her and held out a hand to stop her.

“Danielle, please. Don’t leave.”

Danielle glared at him. “What do you want? Why are you here? If it’s to finish what your brother had started, I swear to God…”

“What?” Michael looked pained at the accusation. “Of course not. I just want to talk, truly.” He held up both hands to show that he meant no threat. “Please, Danielle,” he said again.

Danielle didn’t care about the sorrow in Michael’s green eyes, but she sat back down anyway, wary and reluctant.

Michael sat across from her. He placed both hands on the table, fingers intertwined. His thumb tapped nervously on the back of his hand. “How’s Jack?” he finally ventured to ask.

“He’s stable,” Danielle said coolly.

Michael nodded. He looked immensely relieved. “That’s good.”

“No, Michael, that’s not ‘good’.” Danielle all but growled at him. “Your brother almost bled him dry.” There was a sentence she never thought she would get to say.

Michael winced. “I’m sorry.”

“‘Sorry’ is not good enough.” And it really, really wasn’t.

“I know. I’ll keep Stephen away from him from now on.”

Danielle snorted. “That’s the least you can do.”

Silence fell over them with the heaviness of a cartoon anvil. There was so much to say, and yet neither of them seemed to know where to start. Finally, Michael spoke.

“I meant what I said last night. I have fallen for you. I do love you.”

Danielle looked up at him. Michael’s green eyes were as warm and sincere as they had been the night before when he had said the words, but Danielle couldn’t bring herself to believe him. Michael had just proven that he knew her more than Danielle would like to admit; it was as if he had read her fears, her thoughts—

Danielle stopped her train of thought dead in its tracks. She looked at Michael suspiciously. “Can you read people’s minds?”

Michael blinked. “What?”

“People’s thoughts. Can you read them?”

“No.”

Danielle studied him carefully. He seemed to be telling the truth. She looked over at their reflection in the cafeteria’s glass wall and was horrified to find that there was actually only one reflection there—her own.

“Mirrors,” she said quietly, almost to herself. Of course. Vampires did not reflect in mirrors. How had she not noticed Michael’s lack of a reflection before? Then again, she guessed he had been very careful about not finding himself in front of any reflecting surface when he was with her.

Michael followed her gaze and smiled a little. “Yep.”

“Aren’t you afraid people will notice?” Danielle asked, looking around. The other patrons seemed oblivious.

“You’ll be surprised what people don’t notice when they’re not looking for something odd,” Michael said. “Besides, this is a hospital. The people who are here are generally too preoccupied to notice anything around them.”

Danielle continued to stare at him. “You seem to know a lot about hospitals.” Realization finally hit. “Do you get your blood from hospital bags?”

Michael shifted in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. “Stephen does. Usually.”

Danielle arched an eyebrow. “Stephen does?” she repeated. “Are you fu*king kidding me?”

Michael had the good grace to cringe visibly. “Usually,” he said again. “He had not had human blood directly from the source in decades. I don’t know what got into him last night.”

“Where is he now?”

“At the cottage, resting. Don’t worry, he’s very subdued,” Michael assured. “I promise.”

Danielle wasn’t quite convinced. “Will he go back to drinking blood from hospital bags?”

“He will,” Michael said. “He has to, he can’t control himself.”

Danielle shuddered at what might have been. She was beginning to realize that, all in all, Jack had been lucky. “What about you?” she asked, even though she was terrified to ask. “Do you get your blood directly from the source?”

Michael hesitated. “Yes.”

Danielle’s eyes widened. Horror came to wash over her all over again. “You kill people?” she whispered, aghast.