Blood Type: Book One of the Blood Type Series (complete)

Unintended Consequences

From the café window, I watched the vampire Josiah stalk off through the crowded square. His abrupt departure left me confused. I sat back, arms crossed over my chest, and inhaled deeply through my nose. That proved to be a huge mistake, and I quickly covered my mouth with my hand, squinching my eyes shut and pinching my nostrils as I waited for the queasiness to subside. Everything I used to like, all the lovely scents and fragrances of human life, were now distressingly repulsive.

"Are you okay?"

I opened my eyes to find one of the employees standing a few feet away, a bucket of dishes propped against her hip. She regarded me uncertainly, her eyes flashing to the bucket in a likely attempt to estimate how quickly she could get it under my mouth.

I lowered my hand. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

I grabbed my purse and stood, my legs shaky. "Yeah. I'm just gonna . . . I'm gonna go." Holding my breath, I scrambled from the café into the relative fresh air of the square, breathing a sigh of relief as a gust of cold wind hit me full in the face.

Josiah probably couldn't tell me how or where to find a Watcher, even if he felt like helping me. The rules of remaining inconspicuous, making sure the human and vampire worlds stayed separate—or as separate as possible—probably prohibited him from talking. Still, there had to be extenuating circumstances that would allow me to file a complaint. Would the vampires in charge even care? There was a warrant out for Ian's arrest, so surely they would. I sat down on the edge of the fountain, my mind racing as I considered what to do next.

It took no great leap to appreciate the magnitude of Ian's mistake. Still, "mistake" was too tame a word for what he had done to me. Had John known all along that Ian was a wanted vampire? Even if he had no plans to willingly hand over his maker, John would never have allowed him out in public knowing there was a warrant out for his arrest. At the very least, John had undoubtedly known Ian was capable of hurting people.

I pounded my fist against my thigh, silently cursing both John and his blood-sucking sire. John had been my boyfriend, if only for a few weeks. He should have been protecting me. Still, if I allowed myself to be even the slightest bit objective about the situation, I supposed I could understand why John had defended Ian, safeguarding him against authorities. I would do the same for Olivia, and the bond between us was a simple bond of friendship. Though strong, it wasn't nearly as strong as the blood bond that John and Ian shared. Whatever John and I had paled in comparison to what linked him to his sire.

"You're so stupid," I muttered to myself.

Maybe I had been too hard on John. Instead of spending my last days trying to get revenge against Ian, maybe I should be spending them making peace and finding closure. Anger aside, the truth was I still cared for John.

With a sigh, I pulled my cell from my coat pocket. Meet me at your house, I texted John. I had one last thing to say.

I drove with a knot in my stomach. For two months I had ignored his attempts at communication, too irate to listen to his explanations and excuses. And yet my conversation with the vampire Josiah had made it clear that although I was still angry, and rightfully so, I couldn't go on blaming John for Ian attacking me. John hadn't set out to purposely betray me. I had to find a way to forgive him.

Trudging tiredly up the front steps, I rang the bell and waited for what seemed like an unbearably long time for anyone to answer. At last, the door slowly inched open, revealing Ian peeking out from the other side.

"Blake," he said, sounding genuinely surprised to see me. "What are ye doing here?"

It had been two months since Ian bit and infected me. Standing face to face with him now, it felt like yesterday. I cleared my throat. "Can I come in?"