My Blood Approves: Fate Part 29

"But you're not?" She finally looked up at me again, her eyes wide and scared.

"No, I'm not." I could've elaborated and added that I might be someday, but I didn't. Not only would it just freak her out unduly, more and more it was seeming like I would end up dead before I turned.

"Why don't I have bite marks?" Jane pointed to her neck, which was completely bare, the same as mine was, even though we'd both been bitten just over twenty-four hours ago. "I knew that he bit me, but I didn't have any sign of it."

"Something in their saliva. It makes the wounds heal right away," I shrugged. "It's probably the same thing that makes it so they heal so quickly and live forever and all that, but on a much smaller scale."

"That's why you brother looked so foxy. And why I can't get him out of my head." Jane chewed the inside of her cheek and stared off into s.p.a.ce. "And why I couldn't get Jack out of my head either. They're vampires."

"I'm sorry," I said softly, unsure of what else to say. "I never thought you would... When Milo invited you out, I thought we would just dance and you'd go home. I never tried to mix you guys. I just..."

"What do they want with you?" Jane looked up at me again, and this time, she was suspicious.

"Are you like Jack's blood mule or something?"

"No, no, it's nothing like that," I shook my head. "He's... We're... There's extenuating circ.u.mstances that I'm not gonna get into right now, but we're almost dating. I guess."

"What does that even mean?" Her hand was shaking less when she flicked her ashes, and that was rea.s.suring. "Are you sleeping together? Does he bite you?"

"No." I let it hang in the air, unwilling to tell her the truth about him biting me. "We just care about 149 each other."

"So why did Milo turn into a vampire and not you?" She was studying me now, trying to figure it if I was lying or leaving anything out, and I shifted uncomfortably.

"There was an accident," I explained. "He was dying, and the only way to save him was to turn him. So they did."

"I'm not gonna turn, am I?" Jane's hand went reflexively to her neck, touching where Milo bit her.

"No, it doesn't work that. You'll be perfectly fine," I a.s.sured her, then added, "Oh. You should take iron and B12 for awhile to help your blood replenish or whatever."

"So... they're really vampires?" Jane eyed me up skeptically.

"You saw them." There was no better explanation than what she had already witnessed.

"I did," Jane agreed thoughtfully. "But that girl, she had fangs, like hardcore. I didn't notice any on Milo or Jack."

"Yeah, I don't think those are real." I'd been thinking the same thing, but I kept forgetting to mention it somebody in hopes they could explain it to me. "I mean, they have really sharp incisors, but they don't look like that. I think hers must be veneers or something. She has to be a real vampire, but I think it's all part of her 'image.' You saw her black lipstick and Halloween make up."

Jane nodded and tossed her cigarette b.u.t.t on the floor. She stomped it out and pulled another cigarette out from her pack. Staring at the floor again, she was mulling everything over.

Obviously, she'd been thinking of it before I said anything. In the car, after Violet and Lucian attacked us, she'd even used the word "vampires" herself. But it was still a hard thing to come to terms with, even when all the pieces fit.

"So what now?" Jane asked at length.

"What do you mean?" I looked at her curiously.

"I don't know!" She sounded exasperated, and she laughed hollowly. "They are vampires! Doesn't it feel like we should do something? That we can't just back to living our life like normal?"

"That's something that I struggle with everyday," I admitted. "But there isn't much else for us to do."

"I was bit by a d.a.m.n vampire! And now I'm supposed to go to Chemistry, and flirt with boys, and just pretend like none if ever happened?" There were tears welling in her eyes and she bit her lip.

"I just sorta feel like my whole life was a lie. I mean, what else is there that I don't know about?"

"Jane, we hardly know about anything," I pointed out. "There's tons out there. But it doesn't effect us. Or we don't realize it does. This one thing happened to touch home, just for a minute, but it doesn't change anything else."

"It changes everything!" Jane insisted dramatically, and I couldn't help but agree with her.

This is exactly why they had suggested I not tell people about vampires. It was too hard for a person to take. It completely distorts the perception of reality. When things that are so clearly fiction became fact, it changes everything. How could I expect to her pretend none of this happened? From my own experience, I knew it was an impossibility.

150.

"I don't know what to tell you," I told her simply. I knew exactly how she felt, but I didn't have the answers for her.

"So you're no help?" Jane smiled wryly, then flicked her cigarette into the sink next to mine. "I should've excepted that from you." She went over to her backpack and pulled out her ample makeup bag and went over to the mirror next to me.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I demanded.

"You just take your lot in life, no matter what it is." Jane rummaged through her bag and pulled out something to blot the makeup that had smeared around her eyes when she started to tear up.

"You don't know how to fight for anything you want."

"I don't think that's true," I replied, but her words stung more than they should.

"Really?" Jane's reflection smiled at me sardonically as she reapplied eyeliner. "If you really believe that, then how come you're sitting here, still human, going to high school? Cause you've got to be dying to be a vampire. I know I would be, even if my brother and my boyfriend weren't vampires." When she finished her eyes, she caught my expression in the mirror and laughed darkly. "That's what I thought."

"It's so much more complicated than that." But my words sounded unconvincing, even to me.

"I'm sure it is." She put on another coat of lip gloss and turned to me. "I'm gonna go to cla.s.s. And we can just pretend we never even had this little talk, since that's how you want to play this."

"I'm not playing anything!"

"Good job," Jane winked at me.

She sauntered out of the bathroom, swinging her book bag over her back as she left. Her runway walk was already back in full strut, and I just gaped after her. It was as if there was a switch inside her where she could momentarily express real emotions, and then just flick them off when it became inconvenient. She'd been frightened and almost crying, and boom! She fixed her make up, belittled me, and walked off into the sunset.

I leaned back, resting my head against the mirror, and tried to find fault with what she said. I fought for what I wanted. Repeatedly, I had tried to convince Ezra that it was a good idea that I turned now instead of later. Sure, I never really told Jack how I felt, but I still hadn't gotten everything with him straightened out. All I was doing was the making the best of a messed up situation. That wasn't the same as just letting life happen to me.

Walking the block and a half from school to my apartment left me so exhausted, I had to sit down on the front steps and take a break. Not to mention the entire day of walking around the school, and I ended up sleeping a lot in cla.s.s. During lunch, I'd gone to the nurses' offices and laid down on a cot to get some sleep.

Eventually, I was able to get up and ride the elevator upstairs, but I collapsed on the couch as soon as I got in and pa.s.sed out.

Milo text messaged me to make sure I was okay, but I only vaguely remember answering it, and then I was out again. I barely managed to wake up for school the next day, but I took twice the vitamins Mae told me to take. When they bus dropped me off at school, I ran across the street to the gas station and bought like five Red Bulls. I was gonna fight this tired thing if it killed me.

151.

Surprisingly, by the end of the day, I was actually feeling pretty good. Jane had avoided me the entire day, but I decided that it was better that way. She needed to extradite herself from this life before she got hurt.

As expressed by the slow way in which I meandered about the halls, and this was me feeling better. I made it through the second day of my senior year, though, so I thought that counted for something.

It wasn't until I got home and sat on the couch, sipping on my sixth Red Bull of the day, as I had made a pit stop at the gas station again before going home. Milo had texted me twice yesterday, once asking how I was feeling and the second expressing his relief that I was doing okay. He had not invited me over. Jack had not called or text messaged me. In fact, since he'd bitten me, Jack hadn't really spoken to me at all. There was that conversation when I was half-asleep, but he just kept repeating that I needed to wake up and go downstairs, and that was it. It wasn't the same as really talking about things. We had shared something immensely intimate, and he was just blowing me off. It was kind of startling how typical a guy he was sometimes.

Admittedly, he was legitimately freaked out by everything. Not because of how close he'd felt to me, but because it meant that we were both in serious danger. But we were already in danger.

Avoiding me now couldn't take it back or make me any safer in the future. He wasn't protecting me or preventing anything from happening. Our best bet was simply to keep away from Peter for the rest of eternity, and Ezra was on top of that. I don't know why that meant I couldn't be around Jack.

Unless...

When he was biting me, I could feel how much he cared about me, and it was rather overwhelming. It felt amazing to feel how he felt about me and see the way he saw me, but conversely, he could feel the way I felt. Maybe it wasn't good enough. Maybe he saw how little I cared for him. Not that I didn't care for him that much, but there was no way I was even capable of feeling the way he felt. I would suffocate under the emotion.

I cared about him as much as I could, as much as my measly human emotions would allow.

Or worse. Maybe he'd felt the way I still felt about Peter. Despite everything that should be to the contrary, I still had very strong feelings about Peter, and something at the very core of me felt destined to be with him. All of those feelings came directly from blood, and maybe Jack really got a taste of that. If he knew how I really felt, it might turn him off of me forever.

Without even knowing it, I may very well have broken his heart and driven him away.

I couldn't live in that kind of panic, so I pulled out my phone. I didn't think I could talk directly to Jack, not yet, so I text messaged Milo instead. Talking to him would still make sense, and maybe I could get a read on the situation.

Hey. How's it going? I messaged Milo.

It was still fairly early in the afternoon, so they were probably still asleep. As time started to slowly tick by, it seemed more and more likely that either Milo was sleeping or he hated me. I laid on the couch, staring at the television and trying to focus on what was happening, but it was nearly impossible. Finally, after seven o'clock, my phone started to ring, and my heart almost pounded out of my chest.

Pretty good. How are you feeling today? Milo replied.

Good. Better. What's going on tonight? I responded.

152.

We're just working on some things here. You should probably just stay home and get some rest.

Milo suggested.

I'm feeling better. I'd like to get out. This was, of course, only half the truth, but I wanted to see Jack. If I was around him and I saw him, I would know exactly what was going on. But I had to get there first.

Not tonight. Just get some sleep. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Milo messaged back, and that was that.

They were shutting me out of their lives, and this time, I was pretty sure I wasn't just being paranoid. If neither Jack nor Peter wanted me around me anymore, it made little sense for me to be around. Sure, Mae and Milo still liked me, but Milo could still talk to me. Just not at their house.

Peter could just move back home, and they could go on with their lives. Everything could go back to some semblance of normal if they just got rid of me. I took more vitamins, drank another Red Bull, and paced the apartment.

In retrospect, all that caffeine would seem like a really bad idea. I was still tired and weak, and instead of perking me up, it just made me fidgety and it was hard to get comfortable. Combine that with this new panic taking over me since I'd just discovered that I had probably ruined the only that really mattered to me in my life. I was going to be alone and dest.i.tute until the end of time, and it was all because of my stupid ridiculous blood.

When I finally decided to try and go to bed, sleep escaped me. Even though I was still suffering anemia induced exhaustion, my nerves and the caffeine made it impossible to sleep. There was a cool mist seeping into my room through the open window, so for a change I wouldn't be forced to sleep in muggy ninety degree temperatures. I actually had cool comfort going for me, but I just tossed and turned until the covers fell off, and then I was cold.

My phone glowed on my nightstand like a beacon of unrequited love. If only Jack would call me, then somehow we could straighten this all out. I could confess how much I really did care about him, and how little Peter meant to me. Maybe I could even have Milo explain to him the whole nature vs. nurture thing. Things had just gotten too heated between us too fast, and then everything had gotten messed up. If we just let things cool down for a moment and spoke about them openly, he'd realize that I want to be with him more than anything in the world. But first, he'd just have to call.

Eventually, my body forced itself to shut down and go to sleep, and I was staring at the phone when my eyes finally closed. The lost coherent thought I remember having before drifting off was that I really and truly loved Jack.

I heard a noise, a banging sound on my window, and my eyes flashed open. A fog had somehow lightly permeated my room, sliding in from the open window. The scare from the bang momentarily drove away my fatigue, and I sat up, looking around for the source of sound. A curtain fluttered in a light breeze, letting in the light from the streetlamp, and it cast onto a figure standing in the corner of my room.

My breath caught in my throat, which was probably only a little better than screaming. I was about to ask who it was, but even in the dim fog of my room, I could see his piercing green eyes fixed on me. He knew that I had seen him, so he stepped out from the shadows, and my body reacted accordingly. Peter was still the most stunning thing I had ever seen. My heart fluttered irrationally and that familiar painful tug started pulling inside of me, almost demanding that I get out of bed and go to him. If I hadn't been in shock, I might have actually done that. Instead, I just gaped at him until my lungs screamed at me.

"Peter," I whispered breathlessly.

"I didn't mean to wake you," Peter said softly, and his voice sounded like velvet.

153.

He moved closer to me, almost cautiously sitting on the edge of my bed. His thick, chestnut hair fell into his eyes, and he absently pushed it back. His skin was smooth and flawless, and his lips were parted just slightly, breathing me in. He wanted to reach out and touch me, but fought it, gripping my blanket and balling his hand up into a fist. There should've been something menacing and frightening about him being in my room, but there wasn't. His eyes were intense and bright, but they were affectionate and filled with a painful longing for me.

"What are you doing here?" I swallowed hard, trying gauge his reaction, but it was impossible. As always, his expression was impenetrable.

"I wanted to see you. I thought something was wrong." His eyes flashed with something I couldn't read, and I dropped my gaze. My mind was starting to fill with the exotic haze of him, and I wouldn't be able to think at all if I kept looking at him.

"Something wrong? You mean like when you nearly killed me?"

I was startled that I had even been able to say something that biting, but whenever I was around him, my tongue had complete power. He fogged up whatever part of my senses controlled my inhibitions. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him flinch, and that delighted me somehow. He felt remorse about what he done to me, as if that was evidence that he actually cared.

"I can never apologize enough for that," Peter murmured, and his fist clenched tighter onto my blanket.

"Funny. I haven't even heard you apologize once." I looked up at him sharply, and he just turned away from me, his eyes softening with guilt and shame.

"Alice, I never meant to hurt you. I just didn't know how to protect you. Or myself." He exhaled deeply, staring out my window for a moment before continuing. "I'll never forgive myself for what I did. You don't know how badly I wish that I could take it back. You deserve so much better than me, so much better than my life, and that's why I left."

"I didn't want you to leave." My voice sounded small, and I didn't understand why but I was almost pleading with him. The part of me inside that had never stopped yearning for his touch was tearing me apart.

"Really?" Peter looked back at me, surprised and relieved.

"No. I wanted to die when you told me you didn't want me anymore. What does that tell you?" My hands had started to shake, and my heart was pounding so loud I could barely hear myself speak. What was I saying? What was I doing?

"I'll never stop wanting you. I just couldn't hurt you again." Gently, he placed his hand on top of mine, and I felt jolt of electricity shoot through me. It took everything in me to keep breathing. All my senses were haywire. The only thing I could really see were his amazing emerald eyes penetrating through me.

"Why are you back?" I whispered hoa.r.s.ely.

"I don't think I can stay away from you anymore."

He leaned in towards me, but his lips completely bypa.s.sed mine. Instead they rested softly on my neck, kissing the skin running over my veins. A delirious moan escaped my lips, and a tantalizing heat went through me. His hand that had been gently touching mine had changed, so it was now pinning down my wrist, not that I minded. I wouldn't have fought back no matter what he did to me. I welcomed every touch he gave.

154.

When the sharp p.r.i.c.k of his teeth broke the skin, everything was more intense then I remembered. My blood surged through me, hot and silky, making my body tremble with pleasure.

I had just started to feel his heart pump with mine, but there was this sudden darkness stinging at me, and just like that, he stopped biting me.

The familiar cold shaking took over me, my body's reaction to the separation. I had collapsed back on the bed, but Peter was still gripping my wrist, painfully tight. If he squeezed much harder, the bones would snap. He leaned over the edge of the bed, spitting on to my floor, and I couldn't make sense of what was happening.

"What did you do?" Peter turned me, breathing heavily. His eyes burned in agony, but his expression was completely bewildered. "Your blood was so bitter. What have you done? Did you let Jack..."

"Peter," I shook my head and tried to reach out for him, but he let go of me and backed away.