Everlasting Desire
“Rhys?”
“I’m here.”
She tried to open her eyes, tried to follow the sound of his voice, but the smothering darkness dragged her down again.
“Fight, Megan! Come on, love. Come to me.”
His voice rang in her mind. Rhys. If she could find him, if she could just touch him, everything would be all right.
She struggled through the thick blackness, clawing her way toward his voice, and slowly, ever so slowly, the inky blackness faded to a dark gray that gradually grew lighter even as her body felt lighter, almost weightless.
“Yes, that’s it. Come to me, Megan, my love. I’m here, waiting for you.”
“Rhys!” She fought her way toward him until, with a final burst of energy, she opened her eyes. “Rhys!” she cried. “Oh, Rhys, I had the worst nightmare! I tried and tried to wake up, and I couldn’t.”
Gathering her into his arms, he murmured, “I know, love.” He rained featherlight kisses on her cheeks, her chin, the tip of her nose.
“Why is my arm in a cast? What are all these bandages? Why am I wearing a hospital gown?”
“Don’t you remember what happened?”
“No, I…” She stared at him as if seeing him for the first time, then frowned. “You look different somehow.” Turning her head slowly, she scanned the room. “Everything looks different.” She wrinkled her nose. “Smells different.”
“Megan—”
“What’s happened to me? Why is everything so strange? Why do I feel so funny?”
“One thing at a time, love. You were hit by a car. You’ve been in a coma for almost a month.”
“A coma!” She stared at him, disbelief in her eyes, and then shook her head in denial. “No, it was just a bad dream.”
“Then how do you explain the cast and the bandages?”
Confusion flickered in the depths of her eyes. “I don’t know.”
“Like I said, you’ve been in a coma. The doctors weren’t hopeful that you’d recover. They said there was a good chance you’d be in a vegetative state for the rest of your life, and if you recovered, you’d never walk again.”
She stared at him. “If I was as bad off as all that, why aren’t I still in the hospital?”
“Megan, wiggle your toes.”
“My parents must be worried to death. Good Lord, what must they think?”
“They know everything. I spent the last few weeks at the hospital with them.”
“You did?”
Rhys nodded. “When we realized you weren’t going to recover, I told them what I was—”
Megan’s eyes widened. “I don’t believe you!”
“I told them I was going to take you out of the hospital and bring you here.”
“And they agreed?” she asked skeptically.
“Megan, wiggle your toes.”
With an exasperated sigh, she stretched her legs out and wiggled her toes. “Happy now?”
Uttering a wordless cry, he cradled her to his chest, a silent prayer of thanks rising in his heart.
It took him a moment to realize she had gone rigid in his embrace.
“You turned me, didn’t you?” she asked, her voice brittle as memories of Shirl and how her friend had changed after being turned jumped to the forefront of her mind. “That’s why I feel so funny, isn’t it! How could you do such a thing without asking me?” She pushed off his lap, then stood staring down at him. “How could you?” she repeated, her voice sharp with accusation and anger. “You promised…”
“Would you rather be back in the hospital, unconscious?”
“No, of course not, but…” She glanced around the room, only then realizing she could see everything clearly even though the lights were off. She could smell the oil and gasoline from a passing truck, the scent of garbage from somewhere down the street, the hint of rain in the air.
Maybe she wasn’t a vampire. There were all kinds of stories about people waking from comas with abilities they hadn’t had before.
Turning on her heel, she walked out onto the balcony. She couldn’t be a vampire, didn’t want to believe it was true. But why would Rhys lie?
“Vampire.” She grimaced as she murmured the word. Was that why she felt so strange, so unsettled? So empty inside?
“You’re hungry,” Rhys said, coming up behind her. “You need to feed.”
Feed? Visions of a cheeseburger and a chocolate malt rose in her mind, and with it the knowledge that she would never again enjoy any of her favorite foods. She was a vampire now. No more onion rings. No more spaghetti and meatballs. No more hot, fresh bread from the bakery. No more lemon meringue pie. And even as the thought crossed her mind, she realized she had no desire for any of the foods she had once loved.
Vampire. She repeated the word in her mind. Vampire. Vampire.
She was hungry, and she was a vampire.
Hungry vampires didn’t eat hamburgers and French fries.
They drank blood.
“Megan?”
She turned, ever so slowly, to face him. “I’m a vampire.”
He nodded. “Hate me if you like. Destroy me if it will make you happy. But I can’t be sorry for what I’ve done.” He smiled faintly. “I couldn’t bear to think of the world without you in it.”
“You said my parents know everything. Does that mean they knew what you were planning to do?”
He nodded again.
“And they didn’t care?” she exclaimed incredulously.
“They believed it was the only way to save you.”
“I’ll never see them again.”
“Of course you will. I promised to take you home when you were ready, but there are a few things you need to learn first.”
“Like how to…to hunt?”
“Exactly.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I want to learn. I don’t think I want to be a vampire.”
“I’m afraid there’s no going back.”
She stared at him, trying to determine how she felt. She should be angry or sad or curious or something. But she didn’t feel anything. Only a strange kind of numbness. Maybe it wasn’t surprising, since she was no longer human. “I don’t want this.”
“I know, but why don’t you give it a try before you make up your mind?”
“It’s not like buying a new dress,” she said bitterly. “I can’t take it back if it doesn’t fit.”