clutch the sink to keep from pitching onto the floor. My vision turns blurry and liquid. I ease myself down to lie on the fuzzy bath mat, then carefully place my feet on the toilet, wincing at the pain in my left leg.
The booklet didn’t say vampire bites were poisonous, so this dizziness must be shock. I draw the other end of the bath mat over me for warmth, even though it smells like feet. Closing my eyes just makes the room spin, so I stare at the stucco ceiling and try to calm the whirlpool of my thoughts.
Calling me a skeptic is like calling a polar bear white. But this is huge. Huger than an alien invasion and the return of Elvis put together. If vampires exist, maybe anything could.
No. Must not go off deep end of Crackpot Canyon. Must cling to what’s left of brain.
When the light-headedness subsides, I drain and refill the tub to let the covers soak, then drag my winter comforter from the hall closet and retreat to the living room for the night. I can’t face the disaster that took place in my bedroom. Plus it’s my only set of sheets.
As I lie bundled on the couch, memories of pleasure and pain slosh through my fogged-up mind. I hope my subconscious doesn’t get the two mixed up. I’m not that kind of girl.
5
Crossroad Blues
I’m suffocating to death, but it’s okay, because judging by the bright light I somehow made it into heaven. I never thought it would be so humid.
“Ciara?”
“Hi, God.” Frankly, I’m disappointed He’s really a man. I figured being perfect would preclude that.
He shakes my shoulder, an inelegant gesture for a deity. “Ciara, wake up.”
“Hot up here. Can I have a Popsicle?”
Heavy sigh, very ungodlike. My mind starts to climb out of the quicksand that must be sleep.
But if I’m not dead—
I sit up and throw off the blanket, smacking into something solid that grunts.
David.
“What the hell?” I blink at him in the bright morning light while he grimaces and shakes his hand hard. A snap of knuckle signals his finger unjamming.
“Your doors were unlocked,” he says. “You’re not as smart as I thought you were.”
His distracted glance tells me I’m also not wearing as much pants as he thought I was. I jerk the blanket back over my bare legs, one of which throbs with pain. “Sorry I hit you. I’m usually nice to men who wander into my apartment while I sleep.”
“Shane said you needed help.”
I should be angry at this invasion of privacy, but all I feel is hot and miserable in my sweatshirt. I tug at the collar. “I need to change.”
“I should look at your bite first.” He holds up a hand as I gape at him. “If it makes you feel better, I’m trained as an EMT.” He opens a red vinyl bag on the coffee table to reveal a complete wound care set: bandages, antiseptic, gauze, flexi tape. I don’t want to think what the tweezers are for.
The thought of the gash in my thigh makes my head sloshy again. I slump back against the pillow. “At least get me a clean T-shirt from my bureau. Top drawer.”
He heads into my bedroom. A few moments later he appears with a T-shirt from last year’s Warped Tour. He hands it to me, then steps into the hallway out of sight. “I’m sorry you got hurt. I didn’t want you to find out the hard way.”
“Technically I found out through the handy-dandy pamphlet you gave me.” My sweatshirt sticks to my back as I struggle out of it. “I just didn’t believe it.”
“I know. I got your message.”
I pull the clean T-shirt over my head, wishing I could wash first. “A glass of water would be great.”
David crosses through the living room into thekitchen. He pulls a glass out of the dish drainer and fills it from the faucet. “So what happened?”
“Met vampire in bar. Brought vampire home. Lost some blood. Oh, and I think I got someone arrested.”
He brings me the glass.
“Thanks.” I take a sip of water, which has that sitting-in-the-pipes-all-night taste. “Why didn’t you just tell me
The booklet didn’t say vampire bites were poisonous, so this dizziness must be shock. I draw the other end of the bath mat over me for warmth, even though it smells like feet. Closing my eyes just makes the room spin, so I stare at the stucco ceiling and try to calm the whirlpool of my thoughts.
Calling me a skeptic is like calling a polar bear white. But this is huge. Huger than an alien invasion and the return of Elvis put together. If vampires exist, maybe anything could.
No. Must not go off deep end of Crackpot Canyon. Must cling to what’s left of brain.
When the light-headedness subsides, I drain and refill the tub to let the covers soak, then drag my winter comforter from the hall closet and retreat to the living room for the night. I can’t face the disaster that took place in my bedroom. Plus it’s my only set of sheets.
As I lie bundled on the couch, memories of pleasure and pain slosh through my fogged-up mind. I hope my subconscious doesn’t get the two mixed up. I’m not that kind of girl.
5
Crossroad Blues
I’m suffocating to death, but it’s okay, because judging by the bright light I somehow made it into heaven. I never thought it would be so humid.
“Ciara?”
“Hi, God.” Frankly, I’m disappointed He’s really a man. I figured being perfect would preclude that.
He shakes my shoulder, an inelegant gesture for a deity. “Ciara, wake up.”
“Hot up here. Can I have a Popsicle?”
Heavy sigh, very ungodlike. My mind starts to climb out of the quicksand that must be sleep.
But if I’m not dead—
I sit up and throw off the blanket, smacking into something solid that grunts.
David.
“What the hell?” I blink at him in the bright morning light while he grimaces and shakes his hand hard. A snap of knuckle signals his finger unjamming.
“Your doors were unlocked,” he says. “You’re not as smart as I thought you were.”
His distracted glance tells me I’m also not wearing as much pants as he thought I was. I jerk the blanket back over my bare legs, one of which throbs with pain. “Sorry I hit you. I’m usually nice to men who wander into my apartment while I sleep.”
“Shane said you needed help.”
I should be angry at this invasion of privacy, but all I feel is hot and miserable in my sweatshirt. I tug at the collar. “I need to change.”
“I should look at your bite first.” He holds up a hand as I gape at him. “If it makes you feel better, I’m trained as an EMT.” He opens a red vinyl bag on the coffee table to reveal a complete wound care set: bandages, antiseptic, gauze, flexi tape. I don’t want to think what the tweezers are for.
The thought of the gash in my thigh makes my head sloshy again. I slump back against the pillow. “At least get me a clean T-shirt from my bureau. Top drawer.”
He heads into my bedroom. A few moments later he appears with a T-shirt from last year’s Warped Tour. He hands it to me, then steps into the hallway out of sight. “I’m sorry you got hurt. I didn’t want you to find out the hard way.”
“Technically I found out through the handy-dandy pamphlet you gave me.” My sweatshirt sticks to my back as I struggle out of it. “I just didn’t believe it.”
“I know. I got your message.”
I pull the clean T-shirt over my head, wishing I could wash first. “A glass of water would be great.”
David crosses through the living room into thekitchen. He pulls a glass out of the dish drainer and fills it from the faucet. “So what happened?”
“Met vampire in bar. Brought vampire home. Lost some blood. Oh, and I think I got someone arrested.”
He brings me the glass.
“Thanks.” I take a sip of water, which has that sitting-in-the-pipes-all-night taste. “Why didn’t you just tell me
Similar Books
