Chapter 26
NEEDY, NOSY VAMPIRE
ASHER
I have my head bowed with both hands resting on the smooth doorframe as I stand outside Raya’s apartment door, trying my best not to press my ear to it as I listen to her walk inside and hang her keys while her shoes hit the floor.
Raya said she was fine, but something was definitely off on the way up to her apartment, and I’m worried something bad will happen as soon as I leave.
Which is ridiculous. What could possibly happen inside her own apartment? I’m being irrational, but I feel compelled to protect her.
Shaking my head at myself, I drop my hands and step away from the door right as I hear voices inside. Raya’s is easy to identify, but the other is high pitched, almost like a child’s voice. My body stills and I angle my head toward the door.
Does she have a kid?
No way. She would have told me, and she’d have called or video chatted with them during the trip, which I definitely would have noticed. Right?
“Rev, please. You are so nosy! I’ll tell you everything tomorrow, okay? I need some peace for now.”
Raya’s voice goes in and out as she walks around inside, close enough to the entrance for me to make out most of what she’s saying if I strain to listen. Her tone of voice and the way she’s talking certainly don’t sound like how most people talk to children.
“If you don’t cut that out, I’m locking you out of my room tonight and you’ll have to sleep with the living room plants instead.” Raya’s voice is muffled through the door, decreasing in volume as she walks deeper into the apartment and I hear an answering, high pitched shriek in response.
My eyebrows furrow as my lips turn down. Sleep with the plants?
Shaking my head again, this time in an attempt to clear it, I walk away, assuming I must have misheard because that conversation made absolutely no sense, no matter how I look at it.
Raya is busy most of the weekend with family, chores, “girls day” and other adult things that I should probably be doing too, but I don’t because all I can think about is her.
It’s a bit much, if I’m being honest with myself.
I’ve never fallen this hard or fast before, let alone felt so obsessed, and it’s bewildering.
The only positive is that she doesn’t seem to mind me texting her all the time. I’ve never had to charge my phone daily before, and it’s a new routine I’m still getting used to since I’m using it all the time now.
Me: Morning, sunshine. How are you feeling after last night?
Raya: Eh. So so. Mostly okay but still a bit overwhelmed I guess.
Me: It’s definitely a lot to take in.
Me: What about physically?
Raya: Physically? Fine… Why?
Me: You seemed a little off last night so I wanted to make sure.
Raya: Oh, yeah. Idk I think I was in shock or something? I feel a lot better today and I think a cozy girls day in will help too.
Me: Glad to hear it.
When lunch rolls around, I order food to be sent to her apartment.
I debate what to get, not having paid much attention to human restaurants over the years.
I’m not sure how many friends she has over or what they all like, but I’ve heard good things about pizza so I figure it’s a safe bet.
I send two large pizzas, one meat lovers (whatever that means) and one veggie, with a side of breadsticks, and hope that’s enough.
I pace the apartment, ignoring Milton’s judgmental stare as I wait to hear from her when I see it’s out for delivery. Finally, ten years later, my phone buzzes.
Raya: Did you send us pizza?!
Me: Didn’t want you going hungry. I hope the toppings are okay, wasn’t sure how much or what to send.
Raya: This is way too much for a roomies hang haha we’re going to have leftovers all week!
Raya: OMG it’s so good tho. Thank you, this definitely makes my day so much better
Me: Good.
Raya:
I frown at my phone. I could have sworn she mentioned having “a day in with the girls” in the plural, and the way she talked had made it seem like there would be more than only her and Zuri there.
Her text definitely says roomies though, and I don’t think she has more than one, so I must have misunderstood.
Maybe Zuri has a kid? My mind drifts back to the mystery voice, but I shrug it off. I’ll ask her about it later.
The next day starts the same as the last. I putter around my apartment, opening empty cupboards for no reason and imagining what they might look like if they were stocked with food for Raya.
Milton picks up on my restlessness, and he’s not pleased about it. Every time I pace by him, he swipes at my ankles with his claws, then darts to a new spot from which to glare in my direction. When I start rapping my knuckles on the counter, he straight up hisses at me.
I can’t blame him. I’d be irritated with me too. Scratch that, I am irritated with me.
I dig out a catnip toy, then toss it into the other room to keep him entertained—and so he stops yelling at me every time I disturb his peace. I puff a breath out and contemplate a run at Forest Park, but my body protests the idea of being that far away from Raya.
Ridiculous.
I stomp into the living room and turn on the TV, then zone out and don’t watch it.
I attempt to play a game on my phone, but the screen times out and turns black. Four times.
I go for a walk and find myself hoping to run into her at every corner. So I force myself to turn around and walk home before I end up trying to walk all the way to her place.
I finally give up and pull out my phone again.
I type “I miss you, what are you up to?” and then delete it, because that sounds pathetic.
I talked to her yesterday, saw her two days ago, and will see her again tomorrow.
Tapping my phone against my chin, I wrack my brain to come up with another option, something less pitiful, but that will also satisfy my craving for her.
Before anything brilliant comes to me, my phone lights up and buzzes in my hand. I fumble it in my excitement to answer, not even checking the screen first because my obsessive brain assumes it’s Raya.
“Hi,” I say, immediately cringing at the low, breathy need in my voice.
“Hey, cuz,” the slimy voice of my cousin slithers into my ear, and I recoil in disgust. I stare at my phone screen, struggling to register the fact that not only did Raya not call me, but for the first time in years I’m talking to a member of my family.
On accident, but still.
“Didn’t expect you to pick up,” Chadwick says, and I can still hear his awful drawl even though the phone isn’t pressed to my ear anymore.
I stab the red “end call” button, my heart in my throat.
Not two seconds later, it starts ringing again. I hit the red button to decline the call, then shove it across the counter away from me. I start pacing again, my head so jumbled after hearing his voice that I can’t even think straight.
Why would he call me?
Normally Chadwick sends a gloating text or picture, or a link to an article praising his business acumen and the massive amounts of money he’s made. I’m never impressed, but it is annoying to see how successful he is.
My phone lights up with a notification. He left a voicemail.
I stare at it across the counter until it goes dark again, then resume my pacing. I fist my hands in my hair and tug until I feel a sting on my scalp, wishing I could get away from them once and for all. Every time I’m reminded of my cousin, my mom or dad, it triggers the memories.
Memories of being blood-starved because I refused to drink from unwilling victims, and my parents locking me up.
Not being allowed off the property to feed from other sources, and ultimately not being strong enough to resist. Memories of ripping into those victims when the hunger became too much.
The deep red haze that would take over my vision and encroach on my mind when I couldn’t hold the hunger at bay anymore, when I became desperate and deranged, out of my mind with starvation and blood-lust.
The dry husks that I’d leave in my wake.
I always vomited when I came to and was faced with the reality of what I did.
I was never strong enough to resist; there was always a point where I caved to my inner vampire, unable to stop the instinctual urge to feed, even though I would have rather died myself than take from an unwilling victim.
Especially because I was starved to the point of losing control, so they rarely survived.
The phone lights up again with a reminder that I have a new voicemail, and it snaps me out of the dark spiral I’ve fallen into. When I reach across the counter to grab it, my hand is shaking.
I open my phone and press the play button, deciding I’m already in a terrible place mentally, so I might as well see what the bastard has to say. Still, I cringe when I hear his laughter.
“Hahaha, ohhhh Asher, Asher, Asher. I was so looking forward to having a little chat with you! No matter, but I wanted to make sure you knew—you made a mistake trying to leave this family. We’re making big moves, your parents and I, and everything I’ve been working toward is about to fall into place.
Thought you might want to know, but I guess not. See you soon, baby cousin.”
I slam my phone down so hard the screen cracks, a single diagonal bolt from one corner to the opposite side. I don’t care. Chadwick has always had it out for me, wanting my place as heir to the family empire, and for all I care, he can have it.
This sounds different, though. This sounds like he’s planning something, and the fact he said he’ll see me soon…
My blood runs cold. I can’t go back to them. I can’t get stuck on that estate again, being forced to live like an animal, being tortured and torturing others in turn. I can’t, I won’t, but I don’t know how to prevent them from getting to me if I don’t know what’s coming.