Blood Vivicanti (9780989878586) by Becket Page B

sweat.
    He said I was
“beautiful.”
    My porcelain white cheeks
blushed.
    Ms. Crystobal said she’d
resume her duties now. She promptly left without another
word.
    Wyn was very pleased with
our dance. The good scientist had taken copious notes – like Jane
Goodall observing wild chimpanzees.
     
     
     
     
    Blood Memories helped me
learn more about who I really was. I was beginning to see that I
wasn’t the self others had shaped me to be. I wasn’t the girl my
parents had framed, not the grade schooler my peers had rejected,
not the high schooler my classmates had ignored. My journey as a
Blood Vivicanti was a path toward my true self.
    Was my “true” self a blood
drinker?
    Yes and no.
    I needed to drink blood,
yes. That was my nature now. Blood drinking happens when you’re a
Blood Vivicanti. Blood Memories happen when you drink
blood.
    And I liked drinking blood.
I just liked eating memories a little more.
    My true “self” would be the
woman I’ve grown into – the woman I’m still growing
into.
    No: Blood Vivicanti do not
grow outwardly. But we can mature inwardly.
     
     
     
     
    I stayed drunk on Theo’s
Blood Memories for the whole week.
    The hangover was
bad.
     
     
     
     
    Theo became sad and
brooding again when his Blood Memories faded. He liked playing the
violin as much as he had liked rock climbing. He did not like
losing his skills. He missed them all. All he had after they faded
were memories of Blood Memories.
    Wyn was similar. With the
Blood Memories of the astronomer, Wyn had understood much about
life and growth beyond the limits of the Milky Way.
    He became very mournful
when his Blood Memories faded. It was as if someone had
died.
    Wyn listened to a tombeau
all day.
    I’ve never understood why
Theo and Wyn used to get that way. Blood Memories do not fade in
me. My photographic memory will not let them.
     
     
     
     
    Wyn and Theo waited another
three days to see if my Blood Memories would fade.
    Wyn’s dour disposition
lightened a little by Day Ten. My Blood Memories hadn’t faded at
all. His theory was correct: My photographic memory not only
retained my Blood Memories, but my mind also perfectly balanced
Blood Memories with my own memories.
     
     
     
     
    Theo was glad when Wyn let
us hunt again. He was ready for someone else’s memories in his
mind.
    The week before, he had
wanted to drink the blood of a cook.
    This week he had other
plans. His plans would surprise me. He was always surprising
me.
     
     
     
     
    Wyn was curious to see how
two different Blood Memories would coexist in me. He theorized
that, in the same way my mind neatly catalogues all my photographic
memories, it would also neatly catalogue all my Blood
Memories.
    His null hypothesis had
been: Retaining Blood Memories beyond a
week will give her a mental breakdown. Prepare a room at
Bedlam .
    Thankfully his null
hypothesis was disproven. It was balderdash.
    Mostly.
     
     
     
     
    Wyn encouraged us to feed
outside the mansion. “No blood in the house.”
    I made a game of it,
tapping Theo’s shoulder. Tag. He was it. I was becoming more like
Theo by the minute.
    He laughed. Then he chased
me from the mansion.
    I loved being chased by
him.
     
     
     
     
    We ran faster than I’d ever
run before – down the mountain – past the desert valley – west
toward the setting sun.
    Theo outran me. He tapped
me on the shoulder. Now I was “It”. I chased him.
    I was always chasing
him.
     
     
     
     
    He led me all the way to
Los Angeles. We ran through the city to the Pacific
Ocean.
    The whole run took less
than half an hour.
    We stood on the shore of
the sea. Barefoot. Panting. Toes in the sand. Cold salt water
rushing all around our ankles.
    The setting sun slowly sank
into the sea. The sky was orange and red.
    Theo took me to the
amusement park on the Santa Monica Pier. He bought himself cotton
candy. He used to love cotton candy.
    He bought me a soft
pretzel. I still love soft pretzels.
    But that