The Night House (17 page)

“Probably sitting in my room, doing nothing.”

Then Shiloh leans a little closer to me. “If she gets hurt because of this…James, I won’t let her get hurt. She’s been through enough.”

It takes my selfish brain a second to remember he’s talking about Ally. Her voice softly carries from the other room as she orders a large pizza and a soda. Then I reach out to her, to gauge her mood. The storm seems to have passed. She is no longer on the brink of panic. A calm settles over her, now that she’s gotten this off her chest.

I just hate that it had to come like this.

***

While we wait for the pizza to get here, we all crowd into Shiloh’s little room. Ally and him play guitar together. It’s like some kind of puzzle, where Shiloh starts up something and Ally has to find her way into the song. With my back to the wall and my eyes closed, I feel my friends unwind across from me.

The music is nice. I love getting to hear them play together. It reminds me how damn talented they are. They can’t help but get into it, and their feelings of contentment settle over me. For the next twenty minutes, there are no vampires, no grief, no darkness hanging over us. Just my two best friends doing what they do best.

When we have food to gather around, Ally is back to her normal, nosy self. I perch myself on a wooden chair, and Shiloh starts rummaging for plates. Ally pries into me with her gaze.

“Spill,” she says. “I don’t like this waiting thing. I want to know everything about Bianca!”

I spill. I tell them how Bianca draws. I tell them about the museum and how she brought me out of a panic attack. I tell them how bad she feels about hurting me, how messed up she is inside about the whole thing. And I tell them I’ll be seeing her again tomorrow.

“I still can’t believe you know someone like her,” Ally says with a sigh. “She must be one of the youngest people to work at a Night House. What if she works at the same place my mom did?”

“That was a long time ago,” Shiloh begins to let her down gently. “Philly is a big city.”

I can tell that Ally wants desperately to talk to Bianca about this. But there’s no way I am leaving those two alone together. Despite the fact that Ally seems back to normal, there is a new intensity about her, now that the truth is out. I become overwhelmed with a feeling of idiocy. I should never have done this.

This is not my feeling at all. I glance at Ally and Shiloh, wondering if one of them is feeling regretful—but no, this emotion is too far away to be either of theirs.

God, I should have known.

A panic rises up my throat. Then a burning pain stabs into my thigh. I grit my teeth and grunt against it, covering my face with one hand.

“Jay?” Shiloh asks.

“Who’s got your panties in a knot?” Ally takes a bite of pizza.

Tears come to my eyes. It hurts so bad. And it keeps coming back. Bianca. She’s getting bitten, over and over again. Whoever it is isn’t even taking much blood.

“Is it your girl?” His voice barely registers.

“What do you think?” I yell and slam my fist into my leg. “
Fuck
.”

No drugs this time. I wonder if that had anything to do with me.

Shiloh tries to help me up. “You should lie down.”

My legs are jelly, and I can’t stand on them. I’m shaking my head. “Don’t make me.”

“Okay, okay,” Shiloh abandons his efforts, hands up, afraid to make it worse.

“James.” Ally touches my hand, but I don’t feel it.

It’s now onto the other leg. One after another in a straight line down my thigh. Her thigh—like it’s getting six tetanus shots in a row.

“You’re shaking,” Ally’s voice comes to me, but I’m hardly in the room.

Shiloh’s hand is on my forehead. “No fever. Something must be happening to Bianca.”

“A client,” Ally mutters. “What do we do?”

“James, what can we do?”

They’re staring at me, I know, but I can’t do anything except keep my eyes shut tight and pray it’ll be over soon.

I take Ally’s hand and squeeze.

Bianca

I haven’t had a teether in ages. We call them “teethers” because they’re more into the biting than the blood.

Turns out, Priscilla is a teether.

I should have known.

We’re in one of the plain rooms. Like a hotel room without a bed. Boring modern furniture, nightstand, rug.

There is nothing plain about Priscilla.

The moment she steps in, I feel her presence. It’s a kind of itch I get on my skin, like there are ants crawling all over me. Not entirely unpleasant, but I’d rather it stopped.

Her long dark hair and big blue eyes almost make her beautiful. Then you get to her mouth. Her smile is utterly frightening. That smile belongs on a circus leader. That’s when I know this isn’t what I expected. She’s not average, not here for a quick blood shot and then on her way. She’s here for a show.

“You’re even cuter than I remember,” she coos.

And then I remember who she is: the vampire from Jeremiah’s circle. The one who scared me.

“Why don’t you sit down?” she says. Immediately, she has to establish who’s in control. No wonder she works with Jeremiah. They probably bonded over their love of power.

I sit on the couch. Priscilla sheds her coat and stands in front of me, hands on hips.

“I see you still have neck damage.”

She puts a finger against the bruise and
tsks
, but I see a smile in her eyes. Her nails brush some of the torn skin and it flares up with pain. I flinch. Her eyes brighten.

“Shame. And the wrists as well. You’ve been busy, haven’t you?”

Her gaze rakes my body, taking in every inch of damage. She’s pleased. There are more ways to hurt me. She likes pain. Should have guessed that too.

“How are your legs?” she asks.

My legs haven’t been bitten in a while. Jeremiah certainly never bites there, but I don’t know if she actually wants me to speak. She raises an eyebrow.

“Well?”

“They’re fine,” I say.

Priscilla sits beside me and pouts. “Everybody makes such a big deal about all female Night Houses, but I like girls just fine.” She smiles brightly. “They’re much more sensitive.”

Goosebumps rise over my arms. She takes my hand and fondly regards my less scarred wrist. “Finn tells me you’re AB negative.” Her eyes are practically giving off their own light. “Jeremiah says something different.”

Her nails run up my arm. I keep expecting her to dig them into my skin. Her gaze is piercing as she watches me, watches for my reaction. I don’t know what to watch, her eyes or her nails. This is her ritual. She wants to keep me guessing. So when she finally slices her fingers across my arm, I yelp. Teardrops of blood spill over my skin. It’s nothing compared to a bite, but I gasp for her. I’ll give her a show if that’s how I’ll get my part of the deal. I can handle the pain.

Or at least that’s what I think. But Priscilla is an experienced teether, one who knows exactly how long to bite before too much nauth gets through. One who feeds before she comes here so that she doesn’t have too much nauth to give.

I am her reward, after all. Her reward is causing pain.

James must hate me.

James

I don’t know how I made it to Shiloh’s bed.

“What can we do to help?” he asks.

Bianca’s voice comes back to me.
Get some sleeping pills or something
. I don’t, though. I can’t take the easy way out. I’m not going to fight her drug problem with more drugs. I’ll get through it. I’ll show her I can.

“Nothing,” I say.

The two of them stand back and watch me. Ally sits by the bend in my legs and touches my knee. Shiloh sits on the table and wraps a hand around my upper arm. This is what Bianca’s missing. The pain eases.

“Will it help to ask you questions?” Shiloh asks.

“Maybe,” I say. I don’t think it will do anything, but I want to hear their voices. My sister and my best friend. When it comes down to it, all they want is for me to be okay. So I let them talk to me, and I try to talk back. They help me forget how badly it hurts, but I can’t forget the part of me that’s buried so deep into Bianca’s head that for a terrible moment I think that I like the pain.

I recite my mantra of
It’s her, not me
as I try to block it all out, but with every new bite, I find myself drawn more out of this room and into Bianca’s head.

Bianca

Someone had to carry me to my room, again, but only because I couldn’t walk with my thighs all bitten up.

Finn leans against my wall and stares down at me with dull eyes. “You won’t be able to show your legs for a week.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” I say.

“And your neck is still bad. You’ve been taking too many appointments lately,” he says. “You need a break.”

I stop talking, stop breathing. The tiny amount of nauth I got tonight won’t hold for long. If he cancels more appointments, I won’t get it for even longer.

“I can work, Finn,” I tell him. “Just don’t schedule me with thigh guys.”

“Bianca.” He looks me dead in the eyes. “I won’t have you killed.”

The reality of this hits me. Finn thinks I need a break. Finn, the one who sees the world in dollar signs.

“You stay here, and I’ll give you blood in a minute. I need to talk to some clients. Wrap up your legs,” he adds before walking out of the room.

I’m so bad, Finn wants me to take a break.

I crawl out of bed to sit in front of the mirror, where my gauze and wraps for bad bites are waiting. I prop my legs on my dresser and am about to begin wrapping them up when I catch my own reflection’s eye.

That can’t be me.

She’s ugly.

Her face is skeletal, with sunken cheeks and bone-white skin. There are dark circles under her eyes, more like gashes than bruises.

I reach my hand out and touch the mirror. She touches it back.

She’s crying.

I grab the glass of water on my dresser and throw it across the room. But I’m too weak and it doesn’t even crack. I can’t do anything right. And now my arm is sore.

How did I let it get this bad? This isn’t living. I am
just
scraping by, barely enough blood to keep me conscious. And I still can’t stop my hands from shaking at the thought of going a day or two without nauth.

But I have to keep going. I’ve come this far and lived through much worse. I can fight my way out of this too. I
will
.

When Finn returns, he stands over my bed.

“Jeremiah said you agreed to join him for a function.”

This night is just not going my way.

“I told him I was very surprised,” he goes on.

I try to keep calm. Finn can’t know about Micah. No one can. Vampires respect strength, and without fangs you may as well be dead. Micah told me that fang-less vamps stand trial sometimes, just for being too human. Those trials never end well.

“It’s just one time, right? It’ll pay a lot. Maybe enough for me to get out of here.” I shrug, trying to make it seem nonchalant. At least money is a motive he’ll understand.

He is silent for a moment. Then he concedes, “Yes, he offered much more than my normal rate. I told him that you had to be back before sunrise. He’s willing to pay much more than I usually charge. And I can be sure the Monarch will treat you nicely.”

I scoff. “Right. No offense, but I can’t really expect the guy who writes the rules to care too much about them.”

“Maybe, but you can be sure he cares about appearances.” Finn stares at me. “You need blood.”

“You think?”

His eyes narrow ever so slightly as he sits on the edge of my bed. Then he bites his own wrist and holds it out to me. “Don’t take much. I’m still working.”

Finn’s blood tastes odd. Sort of like perfume and misery. I assume that’s because he drinks from the girls here. He pulls his wrist away from me when I’ve had enough and steals gauze from my dresser to wrap it up quickly.

“Don’t get out of bed for the rest of the night.”

“Finn, I can work—”

He slams the door shut. I try not to scream. My arms itch. I take two Tylenol and two iron supplements, then collapse in bed. I apologize to James in my head until my body starts to quake. It’s near impossible to resist the urge to scratch my wrists until they bleed. My bones ache. I feel it in every joint, and in my head, and under my skin and in my gums.

Nauth would make it go away.

The thought occurs to me and just as soon, I am screaming into my pillow because I want it more than anything in the world, but I shouldn’t. I don’t want to want it, but I’m not strong enough without it.

James

We wait until it’s good and dark out before we set out for home. I just don’t want my parents to see me limping through the door with imaginary bite marks.

Shiloh and Ally are on either side of me. It’s much better by this point, but I don’t trust myself to make it alone.

Every new street we pass, I find myself reaching out with my senses, hoping to God that I don’t feel a vampire lurking in the shadows. Ally, too, seems to be on guard. Shiloh is just flat-out unhappy.

“Dude, you’re a mess.” He can barely bring himself to help me along.

“Thanks, you look nice too.”

“Damn it, I’m serious. I’ve never seen you like this. It’s not right.”

“Nothing about me is right.”

Ally squeezes my side. “Come on, don’t say that. You’re a good guy. You’re the most right. Everything you do is right. But Shy has a point. You’re in
pain
. It’s not fun to watch.”

Their concern is like an itchy blanket on my skin.

“I appreciate it, guys, I really do. But this isn’t about me anymore. Bianca needs my help.”

“You can’t help her in some less exhausting way?” Shiloh half teases.

I grin at him. “Sorry, but I’ve made up my mind. There’s got to be a way.”

“A way for what?” Ally gets her keys out as we approach our front door. Shiloh keeps me upright as she gingerly unlocks it. She pokes her head through and softly calls
hello
before waving us in.

“A way to get out of there.”

Ally takes a breath and holds it in her chest for a few seconds. “My mom was there for years. She tried to leave, but she couldn’t. What makes you think Bianca can be saved?”