CHAPTER 8 #2
“Different? I’m an undead corpse,” he blurts out. “My heart isn’t beating. I crave blood. What part of that isn’t monstrous?”
I try to not take it personally. To not make this about me.
Max doesn’t think that I’m a monster, or even partially. He’s just not used to being something he wasn’t born to be.
I take his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. “Listen to me—being a vampire doesn’t make you a monster. You hear me? Your choices do. And you, Max Sinclair, have always made good choices.”
He looks at me, hauntingly uncertain. “What if I can’t control it? What if I hurt someone?”
“You won’t,” I promise. “I’ll help you every step of the way. We’ll figure this out together.”
After a long moment, he nods. “Okay.”
I signal the nurse, who returns and resumes the blood flow. Max’s reaction to the first hit is visceral. His entire body tenses, his eyes widen, and a soft moan escapes him.
“I feel good,” he finally admits, sounding both surprised and disgusted with himself.
“It gets easier,” I assure him, though I’m not entirely sure that’s true.
By the time the bag empties, Max looks more like himself. His movements are more fluid, his color has improved, and the initial shock gives way to cautious curiosity.
The doctor arrives for a post-feeding examination, explaining that Max must remain under observation for at least twenty-four hours to ensure his transition completes without complications.
“Your family has been informed,” the doctor proceeds, checking his watch. “They will be taking the first possible flight here.”
Max thanks him and he leaves the room.
Familiar voices echo from the hallway when the door opens. Ones that make me tense up rather than Max. It’s not any family member, although that wouldn’t have been much better anyway. Everyone around him treats me with skepticism at best.
“I don’t care what the nurse said,” comes the authoritative voice of Max’s best friend since their first year of law school, Liam Porter. “Visiting hours aren’t over yet.”
His expensive cologne announces his presence before he rounds the corner, flanked by Vivian and Kevin.
“I hear your friends,” I tell Max, squeezing his hand once more. “I’ll give you some time alone with them.”
Before he can respond, I’m already out the door.
I plan to scurry in the opposite direction of the elevators I heard his friends come out from, but they are already in front of me, all wearing platinum bands that they know look good in courtrooms and contracts.
“Seraph,” Liam says stiffly, his face hardening and his blue eyes cold as they sweep over me. “What happened to Maxim?”
I never quite liked his full name. It reminds me too much of their friends. Liam. Kevin. Vivian. Maxim. But it’s exactly why they like it.
“He was attacked,” I say, keeping my voice level. “He’s stable now.”
Vivian steps forward, her perfectly manicured nails drumming an impatient rhythm against her designer handbag. “Stable? We heard he was turned.”
I don’t miss the subtle accusation in her tone.
“Yes,” I admit. “He’s completed transition.”
Kevin shakes his head, muttering something under his breath that sounds like he knew this would happen.
I gesture toward the door. “He’s awake. You can see him.”
They move past me without another word, Liam’s shoulder brushing mine with deliberate force.
Their discomfort is palpable—hearts racing, gulps heavy, and breathing shallow. I can hear it all, and I know Max can too now.
Through the closing door, I catch a glimpse of Max’s face lighting up at the sight of his friends, a reaction I haven’t seen since he woke up.
I linger in the hallway, unable to help myself, listening in on their hushed conversation. His friends have never hidden their wariness of vampires, nor their disapproval of his relationship with me.
“Jesus, Maxim, look at you,” Liam says.
“I know,” Max replies, his voice strained. “It’s… an adjustment.”
“This is exactly what we warned you about,” says Vivian, her tone softening with concern. “Getting involved with someone like her.”
Someone like me.
“It wasn’t her fault,” Max defends weakly, but there’s hesitation in his voice.
“Wasn’t it?” Kevin prods. “You never had vampire problems before her. Now you’re one yourself.”
I’ve heard enough. I push away from the wall and stride down the corridor toward the elevators, punching the buttons as if they were the faces of my enemies.
All the unspoken fears I’ve harbored since the beginning of our relationship have come true. Had Max never gotten involved with me, he would still be human right now.
By the time I reach the exit, my eyes are burning with unshed tears.
The night air hits me like a slap, cold and clarifying.
I take a deep breath, trying to clear my head as I make my way back to my apartment.
It takes longer than usual. My legs feel heavy, my mind preoccupied with replaying every moment of the past few days, searching for what I could’ve done differently.
Every possible scenario I think of ends the same way, and it makes me feel all the more guilty.
It means that his friends were right. That it’s all because he started hanging around someone like me.