Turned at Dark

"That was so stupid," Chan said. "You so could have gotten us killed."

She closed her eyes tight, preventing her weakness from showing, but on the inside, where it counted the most, the tears fell. What was happening to her? What kind of monster had she become?

In a matter of minutes, she and Chan stood outside her house. Normally, he landed on the roof and they crawled in her bedroom window. Not this time. She clutched the blood to her chest as if it were a precious stone.

"If you want it, you’d better drink now," he said, his frustration evident from his posture to his tone. "Your parents are up and pissed."

The bag of blood in her hand was still warm. Somehow its scent leaked out of the plastic and filled her nose. Della looked back at her house. "How do you know they’re up?"

"Focus. Your sensitive hearing should already be working."

She looked up at her bedroom window. "I can’t hear. . ." And suddenly she could. Her mom cried and her dad muttered about how he planned to find a good drug rehab. She stared back at Chan. "I’m not using drugs?"

"Yeah, but you’re doing things you’ve never done, so they just assume. My parents did the same thing." He sighed. "But it doesn’t matter what they think."

"It does to me," Della snapped back.

He shook his head. "Can’t you see how impossible living here will be? It’s not like you can keep your blood supply in the fridge. You’re not going to fit into their lifestyle now."

She shook her head. "I can’t . . . I can’t walk away from . . . Lee. I can’t leave my sister. She needs me." And whether she wanted to admit it or not, she loved her parents.

"Hard-headed Della," he muttered. "I should have known you’d have to find it out for yourself. So go . . . walk in there with your blood and see if you can explain it." He threw up his hands as if exasperated. "I’m leaving. Going back to Utah. How are you going to get blood tomorrow or the next day? You can’t live with humans anymore. You can’t."

"They’re my family," she said.

"Not anymore. I’m your family. Other vampires are your family. You’ll see. You don’t belong here."

She looked down at the bag of blood. Her hands shook. Her chest hurt with emotion.

"Ah screw it," Chan said and the fury in his eyes faded. "Give me the blood. I’ll bring it to you later. Go deal with your parents. But I’m telling you, I can’t hang around here to supply you with blood forever. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to leave them. You’ll see. I don’t care how hardheaded you are, sooner or later, you’re going to have to accept my help."

* * *

Della refused to cry. No matter how harsh, how bitter her father’s words were. She sat there on the sofa, her chin held high, talking the insults. Each one hurt a little bit more. But damn it to hell and back. She wouldn’t cry. Her father continued, She was a disappointment to him and his family legacy. She’d brought shame down on her family name. He would never be able to stand proud in public again.

"Go to your room and think about what you have done!" he finally demanded.

She did go. She couldn’t get away from him, or her mom, fast enough. Her mom had stood stone-faced and let him say those horrible things. All of it a lie. She wasn’t taking drugs, or selling her body to different men to feed her obsession.

She’d given her body to one, Lee, who she loved, who loved her. When she got to her room and slammed the door, she tried to swallow the shame, the anger, the fury that filled her throat.

Then the sweet smell of roses filled her nose. Her gaze shot to the arrangement. Suddenly all she could think about was Lee. She needed him to hold her, to tell her it would all be okay. Rushing to the window, she flung it open and stared down at the grass two stories down. She stood on the edge for several seconds, unsure how she did this, but desperation made her jump.

Landing on her feet without feeling any of the impact of the jump, she took a deep breath and started to run. At first it was slow, then faster and faster still. Soon she wasn’t even sure her feet touched the ground. As the wind whipped her hair around her face, Della formed a new plan.

She didn’t have to go live with Chan in Utah; she and Lee could get their own place. They had talked about it already. They would work part time and go to school. They could do this.

In less than five minutes, she stood in front of Lee’s house. She saw his window, it was dark. Of course it was dark, it was two in the morning, but she didn’t care. She leapt up, grabbing a hold of his ledge and then she forced the window up. Thankfully, it wasn’t locked.

When she climbed inside, Lee sat up. He blinked, stared at her with his dark brown eyes, and then he run a hand through his hair. "Della?"

She moved closer. "I . . . I had to see you. I missed you."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I’m fine."

"You mom said the doctors didn’t know what was wrong with you."

"They didn’t, but I’m well now and I’ve been thinking . . . I want to be with you. I want to get our own apartment like we talked about."

He stared at her, his hair mussed. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and he looked good. Sexy. She moved to the edge of the bed. "How did you . . . get inside?" He looked back at the window.

"It was unlocked."

"But it’s the second story window." He scratched his head.

She sat down beside him. "I love you, Lee. I want to be with you, always." She reached out to touch him. His skin was so hot, felt so good. She just wanted to lie down beside him, have him hold her.

He flinched and pulled away. "You’re cold. Really cold."

His words brought back something Chan had said when she’d been half out of it. Something about her body temperature changing, about how she couldn’t let her parents take her temperature anymore.

"What’s wrong with you?" he said, scooting away. "You must still be sick."

"No," Della said. "I’m fine, I’m just . . . I mean . . ." What did she mean? Was she going to tell Lee the truth? "I’m not contagious," she said.

"What did you have?" He eased away, when all she wanted to do was to get closer. She wanted him to hold her, to kiss her and make her forget everything that happened these last few days. He raked a hand through his black hair. "You should probably go. If you get caught here, you know how it will look."

"It will look as if we’re sleeping together. Which we are. And I don’t care if people know anymore."

She put her hand on his shoulder.

"But I do care," he said. "Don’t touch me." He pushed her hand away. "I . . . I’m sorry, but I don’t like how you feel right now. Something feelsae off about you. It’s hard to explain, but you just seem really weird right now. I think you should go home and talk to your parents, get the help you need."