Night Children

20

I don't know how long we were there, an immobile heap on the floor, arms and legs tangled, our heads on each other's shoulders. I could have stayed there forever, but in the back of my head, I was worried that Reese was hurt and Richie still had a stake in his stomach.

So I peeled myself away from her, even if it was like tugging my own skin off. With a sigh, I raked hair out of my face, twisting my mouth intro a frown. "We need to get Reese out of here."

"Reese?" Cal questioned, then realization passed over her face. "Oh. Oh God, he's human, isn't he?"

I nodded solemnly, getting to my feet. "Well, there's no sense in lying to him now. Not after that."

"You're going to tell him what you are?"

"Yeah," I muttered, glancing at her over my shoulder. Cal still knelt on the floor, her hands shaking, eyes wet with unshed tears. "He doesn't have to believe me. But I'm not going to lie."

Cal hesitated, but gave a nod of agreement, letting me hoist to her feet. I noticed her stumble, her feet tripping over one another as she moved, but when she straightened suddenly, I didn't ask. Together, we made our way towards where Reese lay, stepping over Ethan's dim corpse, his face frozen in eternal fear.

I swallowed, looking away. It had been the first time I'd ever killed—anything. Maybe I should have felt proud, but I didn't. Something about watching his skin go cold, the color, the life, draining from his face, gave me this delusional sense of power that I wanted no part of. My hands had taken the life of another. It didn't matter if he deserved it. What mattered was that now, because of me, he was dead.

I rounded the corner, and to my surprise, Reese was passed out in the corner. His back was against the wall, his head tilted towards his shoulder. Blood still dripped from the skin Ethan's fangs had pierced, vibrant red against clammy white. My heart skipped a beat; only when I had knelt beside him and checked to make sure he still had a pulse did I let myself breathe again.

"He's unconscious," I observed, my eyebrows drawing in. "He must have hit his head when I tackled Ethan to the ground. Do you think he's okay...Cal?"

I looked at her, apprehension blooming within me when I noticed the individual droplets of sweat beading upon her forehead. She looked pale, sickly, her lips chapped and colorless. To anyone else it would have looked like severe dehydration of some sort, but not to me. I'd asked her when she'd fed last, and she hadn't given a direct answer. I had the awful feeling it had been a long time ago.

"Cal!" I yelped. I surged towards her, just catching her in my arms as she collapsed. Her eyes flickered open and closed, switching between their profound brown and an unnatural crimson. My head swam. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know where she kept blood in her house, if she did at all. "You have to tell me! When's the last time you fed?"

She mumbled something incoherent, clutching feebly at my shirt collar to keep herself up. I shook her gently, taking a seat on her couch, letting her lie across my lap. "Cal. Come on. Talk to me."

She swallowed, her head tilting bonelessly towards her shoulder. Sweat caught on her eyelashes, orbs of water trapped within the strokes. "Last...last month..."

I sucked in a long, long breath. I didn't know much about vampires, but I knew that even going a week without blood was dangerous for them. "Cal, you've got to be kidding me! Why on earth—"

"I was so focused on taking care of Richie," she murmured. "I forgot about myself."

"You're such a liar," I replied, staring down at her. She was out of it, but the surprise in her expression was lucid. I knew there was something she didn't want to say—the crucial reason behind all this. I also knew I couldn't force her to say it.