Bulletproof (Healer) (21 page)

             
                           
SIXTEEN

             
A week, maybe more, passes quickly.

             
During the day I lie in bed staring at the ceiling, breathing, avoiding thought and wistfully waiting for nighttime to come. Daytime brings depression, darkness and overwhelming guilt. I refuse to leave my room. I don't want to see Rose or Gabe because seeing them, hearing their voices would only send me further into to the dark hole that I am clawing my way out of.

             
Every night Maurice and I watch the stars, we hold hands and laugh and kiss. And kiss. Kissing is my new favourite pastime, giving me more of an adrenaline rush than any speedy car could. His lips make me feel dizzy and I lose all control, all common sense. Despite knowing he’s a vampire and he’s dangerous, I can’t fear him because Maurice is the only thing that can anaesthetise the pain and remorse I feel throughout the day.

             
Tonight we are in my room and Maurice's delicate lips are pushing the boundaries. They have strayed from my mouth and moved down my neck, down to my chest which is heaving dramatically. "I am so glad I found you, Cassie," he says. I blush. I still haven't got used to his incessant complimenting. He frequently tells me how perfect I am for him, how wonderful I make him feel because I understand him, how I am the most beautiful human he has ever seen. If it isn't real, I don't care. "Do you mind?" he asks fingering the top button of the lime cardigan I'm wearing.

             
I shake my head, "Go ahead."

             
He pulls the cardigan away from my body and then tugs at the neckline of my t-shirt. I turn hot. I enjoy kissing so much so surely anything more will be ecstasy and I don't even feel nervous when his fingers find the bottom of my top and he starts to ride it up my body. Is this what I want? I don't even need to question myself. This feels fantastic. I want to feel no pain, this is euphoria. I came here looking for a thrill, this is the most exciting experience of my life.              

             
My top slides off with ease and Maurice kisses the newly unclothed skin. "My turn?" I ask, breathily and I take pleasure in unfastening each button on his black shirt to reveal his idyllically sculpted body. Vampires in America have become the new boy band members. Girls adorn their bedrooms with posters of famous vampires and it is easy to understand why. Maurice is flawless.

             
"You would do anything for me?" he asks.

             
I nod, "Anything." For now, it is wholly the truth. I would die for those lips, for that body.

             
"Good," he smiles at me then kisses me hard.

             
His question seems untimely but talking is a waste of time. I help him in his bid to take off my jeans. They melt onto the bedroom floor. Whenever I thought about losing my virginity, I assumed it would be clumsy and awkward but Maurice turns on my instincts so everything seems fluid.

             
Maurice's fingers move underneath the elastic of my bra, slide across my chest, down across my bare stomach, trace the outline of my pants. My throat is dry and my breathing is weighty. His lips have found his way back to mine, I bite his bottom lip and this seems to drive him crazy. Then it's a bit of a blur. A crazy, wonderful, amazing blur. I want to bottle the feeling so I can have it everyday.

             
Amidst the panting, Maurice's voice breaks through, "Cassie, do you mind?” he flashes his fangs at me. He wants to drink from me.

             
I know that Maurice does not love me, that our relationship does not go deeper than physical attraction, a kindred feeling of misfitting in society. For me, I just want an escape from the pain. For him, it’s bloodlust. I take from him so shouldn’t I give him something in return?

             
"Please Cassie, it helps me focus. I want to make this the best for you. You said you’d do anything for me.”

             
It’s true. I would give my all if it means I don’t have to lose nights with Maurice. I am willing to endure the hard days for his paralysing kisses so I have to trust my ability to heal and give him this gift. It will only sting for a few seconds and as long as he doesn't take too much I will be fine in a minute.

             
All this is is another reason why vampires evoke such interest in me. He kisses me first, preparing my skin then his teeth sink into me. There is a crunching sound of skin breaking and then a squish. I can hear him slurp down my blood and it feels uncomfortable. I let out a yell but he doesn't stop. He pulls away and looks at me, “I’ll make that go away.” As if by magic, the pain has subsided and been replaced with pleasure. He continues to drink from me while his hands are occupied elsewhere on my body.

             
He stops, pulls away and as expected there is no evidence that his teeth ever punctured the skin. I look at his lips, dripping with my cherry blood and am reminded of my dream with the strawberries and the scary man from Gabe's tattoo. Then Maurice's fingers distract me. I kiss him to show I am grateful and taste my own blood dissolving on my tongue.

             
Hours are spent this way. He doesn't drink from me again but he spends the rest of the night showing me how grateful he is that I let him take a sip of my blood.

             
Then I fall asleep in his arms and I am filled with sadness knowing that when I wake up, he won't be there.

              As expected, my bed is empty when I wake up but I feel fully satisfied. My thighs aren't burning, my hips aren't aching with the first time blues - it seems my condition has come in handy. I am grinning then I remember that I have hours before I can see Maurice again and I can feel that sensation again. My toes curl at the thought. I touch my neck where a small scar should be forming from last night's antic but I only feel smooth skin.

             
Then my thoughts are interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. I jump up and grab for some pyjamas as I don't want my intruder to get an eyeful. I'm sure the whole house knows what happened last night but in the broad daylight it seems gauche to flaunt it.

             
There is a knock then Angelica bursts in, luckily I've just managed to pull my checked nightdress over my head to protect my modesty. "Good morning," she gives me a knowing smile and winks. So everyone definitely knows what happened. I cringe.

             
"Do you want to shower before the first batch?"

             
"Pardon?"

             
"Today is the first day of collection," she says. We both look equally confused by each other.

             
"What? What's collection?" I ask. Fear is drumming through me and making blood beat loudly in my ears.

             
Angelica looks flustered for the first time since I arrived, "Didn't Maurice explain?"

             
I shake my head. Maurice and I did very little speaking last night. His presence alone comforted me, we didn’t need words.

             
"Oh well this is embarrassing. He has left me in a bit of a predicament then. He assured me he would make sure you were okay with this…"

             
"With what?" I ask. Why is everyone in here so determined to keep secrets from me? I am getting sick of feeling irrelevant. "What are you talking about, Angelica?"

             
"It's the first day of collection… Your blood…" Angelica stammers and I feel sick. The mess is slowly beginning to clear, tangled lines are beginning to unfold. Rose swore to me that Maurice wants something from me and he will take it whether I like it or not. It makes sense. Especially after last night, he wants my blood.

             
And why me? I feel sick. Of course. Maurice  is always telling me that my uniqueness is what makes me so attractive to him. That he likes me because I’m different. And it is my condition, my disease, that makes me so different. The condition which undoubtedly runs through my blood. That has to be it. Maurice is just like Dave and the researchers in Russia. Wanting their hands on a vial of my blood.

             
"He never said...” I gulp, placing my hand where he bit me last night. By letting him bite me I was passing his test. That was his way of checking I would give him what he wanted and I fell right into his trap. Caught up in the romance, forgetting that Maurice is a vampire: ruthless, callous, selfish.

             
"Everything's set up. We really ought to get you started…"

             
"Oh," is all I can muster. I don't know how to feel. Betrayed and angry? Sad? No, I always knew what I felt with Maurice wasn’t real. It was make believe and I promised myself it didn't matter because it felt good. Maurice gave me the pleasure and escapism I longed for and in exchange he wanted my blood.

             
I think about how thankful he was for a small sip of my blood last night, how my legs went like jelly from all his gratitude. If I do this for him, he will be
very
grateful. "Okay."

             
"Really? We can wait one more night and you can speak to Maurice. He can clear this up for you…"

             
"No, it's okay. You said we ought to get started," I slap a smile on my face. I really do need to bottle up the happiness I felt last night because when I can’t feel the heat of Maurice’s kisses burning beneath my lips the void is unbearable. I am lonely and constantly having to hold away sinister thoughts is tiring me out. I want to speak to Rose but am aware that nothing she can say will comfort me now.

             
What have I gotten myself into?

             
All I need to do is wait until nighttime and I can be with Maurice again and he will be pleased with me because I followed his orders. Just make it through the day and it will be okay. He can take that pain away.

             
I shower and dress. Taking care when I shave my legs and blow-dry my hair, prolonging the time before Collection starts. Angelica watches me with nervous eyes like I am going to try and escape.

             
The room where collection will take place isn't far from the Andromeda Suite. I am thankful because my weak knees wouldn't take me very far.

             
Rose is waiting. Her face is forlorn but she smiles when she sees me. I avoid her eyes. Ignoring her is better than feeling her disapproval. Angelica asks me to take a seat. There is a metal trolley with a horde of medical equipment that I recognise from my days in Ayrin Central. The sight of needles and bags and gauges makes me feel faint.

             
"Are you alright?" asks Angelica, attaching a band around my arm which tightens so my veins pop up to the surface of my skin.

             
I nod, "I'm fine." I tell myself this is the same as the tests in Ayrin, I’ve done this before.

             
I am acutely aware of Rose's presence next to me but I'm trying to block her out after our last conversation about Gabe. She won’t recognise the girl she first met when I arrived at her house over two weeks ago. I don't recognise myself. But I did what she told me to, I took any feelings I had for Gabe and I stored them away in the darkest pit in my soul and with them went my integrity, my inhibitions about Maurice and any friendship I had with Rose.

             
"We'll put you on this drip for about fifteen minutes, Cassie," Angelica explains before poking a needle into my skin. I don't even flinch. I am so accustomed to this, it is as normal to me as brushing my teeth.

             
"What is it?" I ask looking at the bag that is now being flushed into my bloodstream.

             
“A witch’s potion. Some nutrients, vitamins,”  she smiles. “Then we will start the collection process, an hour of removal…"

             
"An hour?" I spit.

             
Angelica nods, her hollow cheeks turning red. She is very displeased that Maurice has left her in this awkward position, I can tell. "Yes but this concoction that you're getting just now will stop you from collapsing from all the blood loss," she explains as if it should be comforting to hear, "You will be fine. After all you’re Miracle Girl."

             
The name Miracle Girl leaves a sour taste in my mouth. A nickname made up by the journalists at home. A sick joke. I bury my head in my hands. All of this, my attempt at escaping the confines of my condition, has left me in the biggest trap of all. I will never be more than my disease. Vampires, the one hope I had that life could be more than Ayrin central and whispers in the school corridor, couldn’t even see past my freakish affliction. I hate it and I want Angelica to drain all the blood from me. I want all of my infected blood to be removed and replaced with normal human blood so I can be normal and go home to my dad and see my brother and sister. I want to go to school and start kissing warmblooded boys who like me for my eyes or my smile or how smart I am - not the mutation running through my veins.