Sun Poisoned (The Sunshine Series) (33 page)

“
That should be them now,” I hear Michael say from above me. “Will you survive this time?” he asks himself. Then he laughs. “Well, we know now what will happen if you do. Don’t we, Sophie?”

I can’t really see anything but once every few blinks, my vision clears for a second and I can get a view of what’s going on, like a snapshot being taken over and over.

Michael smiling above me. Boo hunched over and unmoving to my left.

My head spinning.

My arms shaking as I try to stand.

I hear footsteps now, but I’m not sure if they’re going up or coming down the stairs.

Then Michael begins laughing again. That’s a small grace. It’s horrifying, yes. But I can hear that the sound is fading away. He’s going up the stairs. Probably to get whoever or whatever he was talking about. I don’t have much time before I find out.

Now everything is plunged in darkness.

But I have to fight.

I can’t think about anything else. If I let those thoughts in now, I won’t get away.

I hear the cymbals on the drum kit go off when my elbow hits them, startling me as I begin crawling around, groping for a weapon just in case. I can't leave Boo here, like this, and even if I wanted to, Michael is probably coming back.

As far as weapons go, there are only the guitars, so I grab one, holding onto it with everything I have. The neck is thick and heavy in my hands. The strings bite into my fingertips as I try to lift it and fail.

Tears spring up in my eyes. God, of all times to cry, not now. I realize I’m fading. The ground is coming up toward me even though I can’t see it. My head is spinning. My hands are shaking and I can’t stand up.

There are more footsteps now. Dragging, slow footsteps.

I’m tired. So tired.

But my cell is in my pocket.
     

I dig into the front of my jeans to take out my phone and I fumble around with the screen, hoping I’m hitting one of the contacts on
my list. I can’t bring the phone to my ear, but the volume is just loud enough so I can hear the person on the other line.

Jade.

My brother is there.

“
Hey, Sunshine,” he says in the forced happy tone he’s been using since the accident.

“
I . . . Jade. I need. . .”

“
Sophie?” Now his voice is concerned. “What is it?”

“
I. . .”

Too bad I can’t finish that sentence before everything is swallowed up in darkness.

***

Noises. Soft, underwater, noises. Talking.

“Where did you find her?” a woman asks.

“
Downtown,” an accented voice answers. Evan.

Then pain, pain, pain.

My throat, my chest, my legs. All of them throbbing and stinging and warm and wet. Hands on me. Voices. Talking to and about me.

“
It’s okay, Sophie. Stay still.” Myles. Myles is here.    

The woman:
“Give her more.”

More what?

Dizzy. Why am I so tired and heavy?

Finally, I open my eyes.

My sight is blurry, but Myles is by my head, holding onto my shoulders. And Phyllis is here, her hands concentrated on my upper legs. I don’t see Evan, but I heard him before.

The room is so bright that I have to squint, and there are dark blue paper sheets covering my body. I’m suddenly aware that I’m not wearing clothes.

“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice sounding like broken glass.

Myles places a hand at my temple, and it begins to feel tingly and warm. He’s trying to make me go to sleep.

“No.” I swat him away and I become aware of all the blood on me and around me. It soaks into the sheets, coats my hands. I shut my eyes.

“
It’s okay,” Myles says, gently pressing me into the surface I’m lying on. I think it’s a mattress, but I can’t find the nerve to look down at my body.

“
Tell me,” I plead.

“
You were bitten,” he says quietly. “You need to go to sleep so you’ll heal. Okay?”

I try to take that in, try to remember exactly how I got here like this, and my mind draws a blank.
“Am I dying?” falls out of my mouth.

“
No, Sophie.” Myles breathes out. “You’ve just lost a lot of blood. It’s okay.”

My eyes shut for a few long minutes where I cannot open them. I can’t shake the feeling that I should be staying awake. I shouldn’t be letting
myself slip into the dark, warm glove of painlessness, but I drift.

Not far; I hold on enough to leave and come back.

My hearing cuts in and out. People are in and out. I feel nothing.

No pain, no fear, no questions.

But it isn’t long before my eyes are open again.

At first,
I can’t really tell where I am, but I’m aware of two people in the room: Evan and Myles.

They aren’t talking. I can see fuzzy outlines of them standing at the foot of the bed, staring back at me. Then the taller of the two walks out of my field of vision. I hear a door open and shut softly before Myles is in front of me.

Weight. The weight of clothing on my body. Long sleeves. Sweatpants. I can’t really move, but it’s more from just being weak and exhausted than anything else.

Myles sits down on the bed, his body barely touching my right side. I can’t see much besides his eyes. They are a beacon, guiding me to him. His voice.

“Close your eyes,” he says softly, and from his tone, I can tell it isn’t the first time he’s told me.

“
What—” My voice is gravel. Sandpaper. I want to know what happened. What’s going on. Where we are. Where Boo is. And Michael…

A million other things rush through my head, swimming in my tired mind.

“Shh.” The sound is static.

His hand is still on my face with his thumb lightly stroking my cheek.

My eyelids are so heavy that it takes a lot of effort to open them once they’re shut. A few times, they stay closed for minutes, but I will myself to stay awake.

“
Come on, Sophie.” His tone is warm, tinged slightly with something close to relief when he takes in that my personality is somewhat still intact. “Don’t fight me.”

The words cut through me sharper than any blade.

“
You have done enough fighting in the past few days,”
Evan said.

Myles is startled when I gasp with a sudden sob, tears starting to form in the outer corners of my eyes.
“Myles,” I say, my voice barely coming out.

My head is too heavy to keep it trained on him, which is fine. I’d rather look at the wall on the other side of me, but it doesn’t stay in that position long either. Instead, my skull lulls back and forth like I’m shaking my head.

He moves closer, both hands on the sides of my face now, which only makes the crying worse. God damn it, I wish I would just stop with the waterworks. I don’t deserve tears. I shouldn’t have Myles here with me, comforting me over what I did to him. To
us
.

“
What is it?” His voice is gentle.

I don’t notice that my hands are on top of the blanket, over the aching wound that was made by his vampire.

“I. . .” I say. “And Evan. . .” The words are thick and I can't say anything more.

“
Sophie,” Myles says, one of his hands on top of mine. “I know what you did.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. He can’t mean—

“I knew you were off,” he continues. “But I never thought…”

“
Myles—”

“
The mark isn’t healed yet,” he says quietly. “I know what he did.”

Tears trickle out, one by one.
“I’m sorry,” I croak. “I just…”

“
You just wanted to feel better,” Myles cuts me off again.”I get that,” he says. “You didn’t know.”

But I did.
“I wanted to.”

Myles shakes his head.
“He told me he persuaded you,” he insists. “I’m…” He seems to be holding himself back. “I’m angry with him right now,” he decides. “But if he hadn’t bitten you, we may have not found you in time.”

I swallow hard.
“I wanted to,” I repeat.

He takes a breath and folds his hand against my face.
“I know.”  My eyesight is temporarily clear, and I can see him looking into my eyes. “But if he hadn’t put you at ease, especially when you were so vulnerable, you wouldn’t have done it.”

“
Myles,” I say, but he cuts me off yet again.

“
Look,” he says, the tone only slightly harder than it was before. “I’ve kept things from you as well. These are things we need to talk about, but not now.”

He wipes a stray tear away.
“When you’re better,” he says, softer.

I swallow.
“And. . .” My mind begins to swim with everything.

Michael. Boo. I was bitten? By Michael? Someone else? My
phone . . . where is it? Jade. Why am I so tired? Why is my body so heavy?

“
You need to rest now,” Myles says. “Everything is alright. Everyone is safe.” He takes the blanket that’s covering me and tucks it under my chin.

His hand is on my temple again. There’s tingling behind my eyes, at the base of my skull. This time, I don’t fight. I let myself sink into sleep.

***

When my eyes open again, I know I’ve been out for more than a day. I'm tired, and my head and
 muscles ache, but other than that, I feel better.

I’m in a small room, and the bed I’m lying in is raised off of the ground and framed in metal like a hospital bed. But the comforter is dark brown and cozy, like one in a bedroom. There’s a metal p
ole and some various machines.

A window is to my left, right near the bed, the dark blue shades drawn. The room appears slightly bigger when I follow the light tan linoleum to where it drops off, turning into white carpet and a small living room-like area. There’s a flat screen TV on the wall, a brown couch in front of it. As I follow the wall back around, there are two doors, and one is open, revealing a decent sized bathroom.

There are bandages all over my body. Gauze covering nearly every inch of my arms and chest. When I lift up my shirt, there’s large cotton pads taped down on my abdomen. I’m about to start peeling them off to see the damage underneath, but the door opens before I get the chance.

When I look up, Myles is there, a glass of water in his hand. He lets the door shut behind him as he quickens his step so he can set the cup on the table near the bed.

“Does it hurt?” he asks when he’s right next to me. “You shouldn’t touch that.”

Words won’t
come out of my mouth, but I roll the shirt back down. Bracing my hands on either side of me, I try to sit up. and Myles is there, sitting next to me.

“
Hey,” Myles says quietly. “Let me help.” He places both of his arms under my mine and leans me against the headboard.

I have to blink a few times to make the room stop spinning, then I turn and swing my legs over the bed, a dull ache in my knees and ankles as I do. My black sweatpants ride up a little, showing me more bandages. The movement causes a brief wave of nausea to wash over me, but it disappears.

I notice a needle taped to my forearm. I follow the clear tube-like material up to where it attaches to a bag that’s hung on a metal pole. The clear bag is empty, but there are traces of red liquid clinging to the plastic.

“
Hospital?” My voice sounds like it doesn’t belong to me as it scrapes its way through my vocal cords.

Myles stands so he can look at me.
“No. Not exactly.”

“
Can you take this out?” I thrust my arm in his general direction to indicate the IV.

Kneeling down, Myles begins to peel the tape away.
“We’re at Evan’s house,” he says quietly.

When he’s done taking out the needle and smoothing a Band-Aid over the spot where it was, Myles sits in a chair in front of the w
indow, looking at me intently.

“
It’s a part of Evan’s house. He once used it as a place to bring injured people.”

I give him a look that asks,
why would he need to do that?

“
People that Michael was hurting,” he says quietly, then suddenly asks, “how are you feeling?”

I blink three times. Swallow. Clear my throat.
“I was never safe, was I?”

The look that crosses Myles’ face is the only answer I need.

He lied to me about two things: Michael being alive, and Michael wanting me dead.

I don’t know what to do with this, so I just keep talking.

“Then I feel great.” The sarcasm gets caught between a crack in my voice.

“
Sophie,” Myles whispers.

“
Can you please just tell me what happened?” I ask. I want to add on,
without lying to me
, but I don’t think I can without breaking down.

“
You don’t remember?” he asks.

I remember moving instruments and equipment with Boo. Boo frozen behind the drums. Michael. Footsteps. Pain. Blackness. Then there’s nothing connecting those events to waking up here. I’m completely aware of the time lost—like I was half asleep—but I can’t recall what happened between then and now.

But there’s something else too, if I think hard enough. Sounds. The sounds of animals fighting over me, trying to grab on. But I don’t exactly remember anyone biting me.

“
It’s in pieces,” I answer. “Is Boo okay?”

Myles nods.
“He won’t remember.”

Just like last time.