The Night House (12 page)

I pull the paper away from him, and he starts.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

I put the two drawings side by side on the table. “You said James, right?”

“Yeah.”

There’s my version, and his, which is something I would have done ten years ago. When I glance back up at him, he is hopeful. It’s obvious. My mouth opens, but it takes me a minute to say the word.

“Empath…” I trace the lines on his page. My mother’s big soft hair, and her long nose, like mine. “You know…you could counterfeit a lot of stuff like this…”

“That’s not really in my career path.” He smiles at me.

I start packing up my sketchbook, not really sure what else to do. This is not helping the dizziness in my head.

“Were your parents like this?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Dunno. I was found on the steps of the Children’s Hospital of Philly.”

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“It’s okay. I never knew them. Can’t miss something you’ve never known.”

“Real convincing,” I say to him because I can see the hurt in his face. He looks mildly surprised. Then he just kind of smiles.

The waitress reappears then, setting down plates and glasses.

“Anything else?” she asks.

“No, thank you,” James tells her.

I spear some turkey out of the wrap and eat it. It tastes salty. I realize how hungry I am and start digging in. James watches me, and I feel a little self-conscious.

“If we’re doing this, you’re eating too.”

“Oh, sorry,” he says. He takes half the bagel, biting into it.

“So what do I have to do with all of this?”

He does a nervous little half smile. “Well. When I first saw you, I thought maybe you were like me.”

Now I’m confused. “Why on Earth would you think that?”

“Well it’s just…when I saw you the other night, something in me snapped. I sort of lost control of my ability.”

“Oh God, is it because of the kiss?” I cover my mouth. Did I mess up this kid’s head because I did something stupid when I was high?

“I honestly don’t know. That’s why I tried to find you again.”

Damn it, I’m feeling sorry for him. “I’m guessing you’re one of a kind.”

He nods slowly. “I’ve never met anyone like me.”

“And you were just…trying to make a friend…”

“Don’t feel sorry for me now.” He smiles. A chill runs up my spine.

“You can…feel that?”

“Yeah, sorry. If you want, I can try to stay out of your head.”

“I guess it’s okay…for now,” I tell him, though I’m not sure it’s true. I still can’t quite comprehend this whole thing.

“Well, now that it’s out in the open…do you want to try being friends?” He has a goofy little grin on his face. One of his shoulders is raised up, like he’s nervous.

I start to smile, but stop myself. “You don’t want to be friends with me, James. People in my line of work…it just can’t happen.”

“What exactly is your line of work?”

“You don’t know?” I stare at him. “You saw my wrist.”

“It’s okay not to be perfect—”

I cut him off. “You’re an empath. How have you not noticed them?”

“Noticed who?” he asks, concern dripping from his voice.

“You really don’t know…” I gather my things. “This was a mistake. You’re really sweet and I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but this is way over your head.”

James the empath touches my arm. “This is about the marks, isn’t it? The…bite marks?”

I swallow the shame he makes me feel and pull away. “I thought you knew. I would never have come here if…”

“I’ve already trusted you with my biggest secret,” James says. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want, but you can at least finish the meal.”

I don’t know what to do. He’s got a point. It can’t be easy being the only empath. He just wanted someone to understand, and now I’m shutting him out.

But I don’t owe him anything.

“Come on, you’ve got nothing to lose,” James tries to smile again. He has no idea how true that is. My gaze sinks to the table again.

“I guess I just wanted to try being friends. We could help each other out, you know.
And
I could buy you food whenever you wanted.”

He’s making me laugh. “You want to be my friend, knowing I’m not an empath like you?”

“Yes,” he answers with perfect clarity, no hesitations.

“You must be crazy.”

He shrugs. “Maybe. Maybe not. But I think you and I have a lot more in common than either of us think.”

“This is your idea,” I say with more force than I meant to.

“I will take the blame,” he says with a smile. “Is that a yes? Can I see you again?”

I sigh. “I really just don’t want you to be wrapped up in my life—”

I stop because he is touching my wrist. My gloves cover my scars, but I know he feels them.

“Please. Just let me try.”

His eyes are a trap, and I wind up staring into them for too long. He unsettles me in a way that isn’t entirely unpleasant. Something about how he stares makes me feel like he wants this, maybe more than I do.

Because I do want this. I just can’t trust it.

He squeezes my wrist, not painfully, just a reminder.

“James, you’re not the only thing out there that isn’t normal.”

“So you are—”

I cut him off, “No, James, not me. It’s who I work for…
what
I work for.”

“People like me?” His eyebrows cinch together.

“They’re not
people
.” My voice is a harsh whisper. “I already told you what they are.”

“I don’t…”

But he does. I watch him connect the dots. He turns away from me. “The wounds. The sickness, that was blood loss. But…is it even possible? I mean, I know I’m weird—”

“Trust me, you’re quite pleasant compared to them,” I tell him.

“My sister’s favorite book is
Dracula
…” He laughs, but I know he doesn’t find it funny.

“How do you think those myths even started?” I start tearing up the turkey wrap, not eating it, just ripping it into bits. “There’s always some truth to fairy tales.”

“
Some
truth,” he says. “Not the
entire
truth.”

“They’re good at hiding.”

“And you work for them? They…you get…bitten?”

It’s an admirable effort for him not to sound disgusted. I shrug at him.

“It’s money, and…” Before I can stop myself, I blurt, “And there’s this drug. It’s called nauth. It’s part of the job. It’s in their saliva, you know? Like a hunting mechanism—” I stop talking because he’s not listening. I messed up. He’s going to bolt.

“James?”

He nods a couple of times, like someone else is talking to him. Then his gaze snaps back to mine.

“I’m starting to think that you and I were supposed to meet.”

I’m surprised how relieved I am that he isn’t running. “Don’t go all romance novel on me.”

Finally he smiles again, just a small one. “So what do they call themselves?”

“Vampires. Same as us.”

“Unbelievable.”

“Says the kettle to the pot.”

“You know, I…” He scratches his head. “I almost feel normal now.”

I try to put myself in his shoes, but I can’t. I’m just a girl in a strange place. He’s not the same as me. Not the same as the vampires. Not like anyone.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“You’re asking
me
that? I just told you about the existence of fairy tale monsters and you’re—”

“You’re pressing on your cuts,” James says. “Kinda burns.”

I separate my hand from my wrist. “I didn’t even know I was doing it. I guess you can feel that…”

“You’ve been doing it the whole time, actually. Like you’re nervous.”

Withdrawal
. I don’t want to tell him that. “It’s, well, it’s just, the nauth. The poison in their bite. It does things to you. You never get used to it.”

“Are you feeling it now?”

“No…I guess I’m coming off it. When you’re on it, you’re crazy, and when you’re off it, you’re also crazy. No escaping it.”

Talk about nauth makes me antsy. It’s time to go. I make a show of checking the clock on the wall before saying, “I’ll tell you all about it next time, but I should get going right now.”

“Y-you want to meet again?” he stutters.

“Yes. I want to meet. But I’m not going to kiss you again.”

He laughs again, fully. It’s a good laugh. “Uh…Noon. Tomorrow. At Love Park?”

I nod. “Fine.”

He smiles wide. He’s not nearly as boring as he was that first time.

“It’s Bianca, by the way.” I pick at a napkin. “Bianca St. Germain.”

He pulls himself together, then extends his hand across the table. “James Fields. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

High

Bianca

The night Micah saved me, I burned the image of his face into the back of my head. I searched for him in every crowd. Every man I saw with blond hair or blue eyes, I wondered if it was him. It took years before I saw him again. Not until I was at the Night House.

All I knew that night was that I was getting an officer. Alex had told me about officers, the enforcers of vamp law. Most of them act like they’re way more powerful than they are just because they get to punish others. They like to rub it in the girls’ faces. Some of them get pretty rough.

I was in one of the cheaper rooms, designed like a hotel room without a bed. I stood with my back against the wall expecting an animal to walk through the door. What I got was Micah.

“It’s you,” I said, barely able to contain my shock.

He closed the door quickly and lowered his voice. “You’re so familiar.”

It occurred to me that it had been years since he’d seen me. Even though he looked exactly the same, I was no longer the same kid.

“You saved my life.” I became lost in the memory. “When I was younger, you saved me from the others. You were supposed to kill me.”

He put a finger to his lips. “That lie has kept me safe for a very long time. I never thought I would see you again. You’re still alive, but…what are you doing
here
?”

The accusation in his eyes pinned me to the spot.

“I…work here.” I tried not to let the shame of it show on my face.

He came closer to me, and I could see he was healthier than he was before: less feral, but he was still too skinny.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Bianca.”

Micah sank down onto the couch and rubbed his temples. “I shouldn’t have left you,” he said. “I should have stayed with you. I could have protected you better. This is my fault.”

He shouldered the blame so easily; I almost let him take it. But I couldn’t, because it wasn’t true.

“You did protect me,” I said quietly.

“So you could wind up here?” His blue eyes were filled with pain.

I shook my head. I hadn’t spoken about that night in a long time. Especially not to someone who knew the truth. And yet, here was the man—the vampire—who had saved me. There was something so fragile about him that drove me to comfort him.

“Neither of us could have stopped it.” I sat back on the couch and pulled my legs against my chest. “Why are you here? I thought you were good.”

The sting of my remark forced his gaze onto the floor. “After that night, they made those who survived into officers. I had to accept the position or admit I faked your death. That would have been bad for the both of us.”

“I guess you want blood, right?”

“I’m not going to feed tonight, if that’s okay with you,” he said.

“Won’t you starve?”

“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “But I’m used to that.”

I couldn’t wrap my head around him. He asked me how long I’d been there, if Finn treated me nicely. He held true to his word. He didn’t feed on me. We just talked. Mostly about the Night House. I was on guard the whole time, so it was still an awkward conversation. But then he made more appointments with me. And he still didn’t feed.

It didn’t take long for me to anticipate his visits. It was a reprieve from the usual night. He’d always make sure I was okay. He gave me his own blood to heal any wounds I had that Finn didn’t feel charitable enough to fix himself. But he was sicker every time he met with me. After a while, I convinced him to feed on me. I was okay with it because I didn’t want him to get hurt.

When he did start feeding, he was always careful. He let the nauth set in before taking blood, so I wouldn’t feel the effects. Micah never took more blood than he needed. Always living on the bare minimum.

I called him Micah the Merciful.

When he stopped coming to the Night House, I thought for sure he’d been killed. No warnings, no goodbyes. He just stopped making appointments. The Night House had never been lonelier.

James

It’s coming back to me.
She’s
coming back to me.

Bianca St. Germain.

With each step away from her, I get a jolt of feeling that I know doesn’t belong to me. It’s not like the first time I saw her, when everything came rushing into me; instead, it’s a slow descent into her state of mind.

By the time I get back to my house, I start to shake. It’s just my hands, but it’s bad. Once I’m inside the house, I have to shove my hands into my pockets and breeze by my parents, heading up to my room.

They absolutely cannot know about Bianca.

Once I’m alone, I head straight for my clay. I close my hand around a lump of it, letting it form to my fingers and palm. As I work, it occurs to me that I’m never really alone. Despite the time I spend with walls between me and everyone else, I am never alone.

This time, though, it’s okay.

Bianca

I knock softly on the door.

Micah shields his eyes to the sunlight. “Bumble Bee?”

“Hey,” I say.

“Come in, already. I’m going blind.”

I step inside, and Micah shuts the door behind me. He wanders into the kitchen and sits on the counter. He’s wearing worn-out jeans and a white T-shirt, the same as always.

“Nice to see you,” he says.

I smile. “Easy for you to say.”

I’d guess Micah to be about twenty, though he’s looked that way for as long as I’ve known him. It’s weird the way vampires work. They reproduce the same way that humans do, but they age differently. For them, there’s always a point when they simply stop changing. It’s whatever age suits their body and their personality best. To be the most beautiful, or the strongest, or the cleverest. To kill humans the fastest.