Hourglass (Page 58)

“I don’t want to hear anything about the money,” Lucas said. His face was set. “I’ll pay the guys back every cent, and I don’t care how long it takes me. But you’re my girl. You’re going to have a birthday present. Something you deserve.”

That was his pride at work again, but not only that. I couldn’t argue with him any longer. Instead I hugged him tightly.

He slid the bracelet around my wrist. “There you go,” he said, his voice rough. “Happy birthday.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

The lights dimmed around us, and the “sky” above blazed into a thousand glittering stars. Lucas and I settled back in our seats, his hand clasping mine, as the narrator began telling us about supernovas. The coral and silver of the bracelet laced around my wrist, cool and heavy. Already, it didn’t feel like some other possession I owned; it felt like a part of me. A talisman. A link between me and Lucas, just like the brooch.

He wants to take care of me, I thought. He wants to protect me, no matter what it costs.

The lies can’t protect you any longer.

It was wrong of me to keep looking for protection—to keep relying on Lucas to face so much of our hardships alone, or to depend on him to get my blood supply. And it was wrong for me to hide behind lies. Lucas deserved an equal partner in our fight to be together. That meant he deserved the truth.

Above us, the image zoomed closer to one star, a sluggish giant near the end of its life. It glowed red, darker than blood, and its gaseous surface rippled feverishly like the sea during a storm.

“Lucas,” I whispered, carefully pitching my voice so low that I wouldn’t disturb anyone nearby. “I have to tell you something.”

He half turned toward me. The dying star above silhouetted his face in crimson. “What?”

“When I fainted—on the hunt—it wasn’t the first time.”

The star went supernova, crashing outward into a spectacular blaze of white light. For a moment it was as bright as day, and I could see the confusion and worry on Lucas’s face as the crowd oohed and aahed around us. “Bianca, what are you telling me?”

“It started weeks ago. I’ve been having dizzy spells since shortly after I joined your Black Cross cell. They’re happening more frequently, and they’re getting worse, and I don’t really want to eat anymore. Or, well, drink. I know I should’ve told you before. I just—I didn’t want you to worry.”

Lucas opened his mouth to speak, but then he shut it again. I could see that he was balancing between being frightened and being angry. I didn’t blame him for either feeling, but that didn’t make it much easier to see.

Finally, he said only, “We’ll get through it.”

I nodded and leaned my head on his shoulder and looked up at the newborn nebula, which was opening above us like a pale blue flower. Although I knew I hadn’t solved the problem by sharing it, at least I didn’t have to carry the secret around any longer. Now I could celebrate my birthday the way Lucas had meant for me to, looking up at my stars.

When the show ended, and the lights came on, I led Lucas out of the planetarium as we both blinked. “That was really gorgeous,” I said. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

“Yeah.” Lucas looked distracted.

“You can’t really think about that right now, can you?” When he shook his head no, I sighed. “Come on. Let’s talk.”

We headed out into the early evening. Instead of going straight to the bus stop, we walked along the street. The neighborhood was a nice one, with lots of museums and big houses, and tall old trees with broad branches that swayed slowly in the breeze. Our path took us by the side of a park, where a few others strolled or walked their dogs.

The first thing Lucas said was, “Are you sure you’re not pregnant?”

“Positive.” He gave me a worried look, and I shook my head.

“Honestly, Lucas, I already told you that.”

“You cannot tell a guy you’re not pregnant too many times.”

“I’m not, I’m not, I’m not.”

“Thanks.” Lucas put his arm around my shoulders. “So, what do you think it is? Do you know?”

“I don’t know anything for sure, but—” I hesitated. It was hard to put this into words. “I keep remembering something my mother said to me once. The night after I bit you for the first time, actually.”

“What did she say?”

I glanced around to make sure nobody was standing too close to us. There were a few people walking a couple of steps behind, slightly wild in garish clothes and heavy makeup, but they were talking loudly among themselves and wouldn’t overhear. “She said that, once I’d first tasted human blood, I’d turned over the hourglass. That I couldn’t keep going forever as what I was—part human and part vampire. She said the vampire in me would grow stronger and that eventually, I’d have to—” I wasn’t going to say kill out loud in public. “I’d have to complete the transition.”

Lucas said, “And they never told you what would happen if you didn’t?”

I shook my head. “I asked them tons of times, but they just acted like that wasn’t an option. They didn’t say how long I had, either. Now I’m starting to wonder.”

“You think how you’re feeling is your body trying to tell you to kill somebody?”