17. Amy
Chapter 17
Amy
A s it turned out, Blood ‘til Dawn owned vehicles other than motorcycles.
Five of us piled into a van with all but the two front seats ripped out. Rhain and Cyan sat up front, with Rhain driving. Laith, a younger-looking vampire with pale blond hair close to Novak’s shade, and Desmond, a darker-haired vampire with one chipped, blunt fang, sat with me on the van’s floor.
We sat among stacks of plywood, rebar, bags of concrete mix, long two-by-fours, and several toolboxes. There were no seatbelts, but someone had at least welded handles to the van’s inner walls. The three of us grabbed for the handles on instinct whenever Rhain made an especially wild turn.
“Temkra save us, he’s going to flip the van one day,” Desmond muttered.
Laith seemed less bothered being thrashed around. He grinned with every wild turn like he was on a rollercoaster ride.
“Are you excited to see Sapien again?” Laith asked me.
“I don’t know if excited is the right word,” I admitted. “Definitely nervous but hoping for the best.”
“We won’t let anyone mess with you. Right, Des?”
“No one will be brave enough to do anything.” Des made a dismissive noise. “She’s one of us now. Just snap your teeth a little, Amy, and those humans will jump to do whatever you want.”
I forced a smile but couldn’t shake the dread creeping into my stomach. I didn’t want to scare anyone. I wanted them to see me as… me . Like when Tavia came back to visit after she was given to Cyan. Robin and I were overjoyed to see her again. Would Robin react the same way to me now, with blackened eyes and sharp teeth?
But if the people of Sapien feared me a little, that might not be so bad. A touch of fear could command respect. They wouldn’t mess with me, like Des said. And they sure as hell wouldn’t bully me.
I wasn’t so meek anymore. If anyone tried to push me, I knew I could push back.
“What will you guys need me to do?” I returned my focus to the real reason we were going, to rebuild. No matter how Sapien saw me, I was going to help.
“Mixing the concrete for the new fence post bases.” Des grabbed a wall handle and swore under his breath while we took another precarious turn. “That’ll help reinforce everything so nothing can tear it down.”
“Works for me.”
“And whatever those douchebags up front need,” Laith called loud enough for Rhain and Cyan to hear.
Rhain didn’t respond but Cyan pretended to rummage in the center console before holding up his middle finger.
Before leaving, he’d asked me again twice if I was sure about coming along. I answered yes like a normal person the first time. The second time, I just climbed into the back of the van and waited for the drive to begin.
Eventually, Sapien’s security lights were visible on the horizon, looking like stars or planets hovering closer to us than the rest of the cosmos.
A sense of unexpected relief came over me. Most humans weren’t awake at night. How could I have forgotten? We’d be working while everyone was asleep, and might not see any humans at all.
I felt relieved about that, which in itself felt unsettling. It eased my anxiety about anyone seeing me and possibly being disgusted or afraid, and at the same time, reinforced some toxic thoughts about my own self-image.
After several weeks, I still avoided looking into mirrors. I avoided looking at my own eyes or my body whenever possible. Whenever Novak gave me those long looks, like his gaze was drinking me in, I felt torn between wanting to hide and wanting to bask in his attention.
No matter how comfortable I got with him, the fear of rejection lingered. I was convinced that if he looked deep enough—stared into my eyes long enough, or saw me naked—he’d discard me in an instant just like every other guy I crushed on.
It was better that other people didn’t see me. Better for me, better for them. Rejection hurt too badly. It was sharp and cut deeply like a sword. From certain people, rejection felt like dying.
Loneliness was at least a slow-creeping, familiar hurt that always hung in the background. I only really became aware of it when I saw a stupidly happy couple together, like Cyan and Tavia. Feeling alone never truly left, but I could eventually grow numb to its constant presence.
So when the van parked and Laith, Des, and I got out, I didn’t even look toward the dark, sleepy houses in the settlement. I just helped unload the supplies and waited for further instructions.
The bags of concrete mix were pretty self-explanatory. I had to go to the well in Sapien to fetch water while Des and Laith started digging holes for the new fence posts. Rhain and Cyan went around assessing damage to walls, decks, windows, and roofs. Some things could be patched up quickly. Others needed more extensive repair that would take several trips.
I walked through the quiet settlement several times to fetch water for the concrete mix. It felt different at night, like a ghost town. The Heart was so lively by comparison, and not just because more people lived there. Had I already gotten so used to being nocturnal that a human’s daytime schedule seemed strange and alien?
“That’s good, Amy. Show that concrete who’s boss,” Laith said over my shoulder as I stirred the bucket of goopy, gray mix with a stick. “Yeah, work it like that.”
“Leave her alone.” Nearby, Des hammered a fence post down with a mallet. “She doesn’t need your weirdly sexual coaching.”
Laith went to him, spreading his feet wide on either side of the post so that it mimicked a six-foot tall, wooden erection.
“Hammer me, Des. Give me that big ol’ hammer and whack it hard.”
I laughed and Des shot me a look of betrayal. This was their dynamic, I realized. Laith the goofball and Des the grounded, serious one. But even Des cracked a blunt-fanged smirk at Laith’s antics.
“I ought to hammer you right in the cranium.” Des shoved at his friend’s shoulder, and Laith came back to check on my concrete.
“That looks good. Let’s fill these holes, shall we?”
I snorted. “Sure.”
He looked at me, eyes large and expressing something between panicked and amused. “I wasn’t even trying that time, I swear.”
“Uh-huh. Sure, you weren’t.”
Laith grabbed the bucket handle and lifted, carrying it to the row of freshly dug post holes. I followed him, bringing along a broad spade to spoon the concrete in.
“Look, I know I’m a lot,” he said, setting the bucket down. “Too much for some people. You can tell me if I’m getting on your nerves and I won’t be offended. I’ll knock it off.” He smiled, looking both sweetly boyish and a little feral. “Not everyone gets it, but there’s just something about a well-placed dick joke, you know?”
“I get it, Laith.” I shoved the spade into the wet concrete and scooped out a sizable blob. “Now let’s fill these holes nice and deep.”
Laith’s face broke out in pure elation as Des cried out, “No, not you too!”
“Shut the fuck up,” Rhain called over from the van. “You’re going to wake up the humans.”
“Whatever,” Laith huffed. “They know we’re here, right?”
“Yes. Doesn’t change the fact that they’re skittish about noises at night.”
Working with Des and Laith went smoothly. We hushed our laughter and jokes as much as possible, but still received glares from Rhain on occasion.
On another trip into the settlement for more water, I heard a series of noises coming from one of the trailers. The flimsy door swung open hard, hitting the exterior wall, and it made me freeze like I’d been caught sneaking around.
A man stumbled out wearing nothing but boxer shorts and a pair of slippers. His eyes were barely open, his feet dragging with an unsteady gait like he was drunk. Judging by the smell of him, that was probably true.
He found his way to a bush next to the trailer and planted his feet wide with some degree of effort. I smelled the urine before I heard the splash of it hitting the ground. Wrinkling my nose against the acrid scent, I kept on toward the well to fill my bucket with water.
The guy must have been holding it in for a while because he was just finishing up as I headed back toward the fence line. He did his little shake before tucking himself back into his boxers, and then looked up.
Our eyes met and I recognized him.
Tom Harrison. The guy I lost my virginity to.
When he first started flirting with me, Tavia warned me about him. She told me to be careful and not to believe everything coming out of his mouth. There were rumors going around that he’d placed bets with his friends. One wager was that I’d willingly sleep with him. The second was that I’d tell him I loved him.
I did both.
I fell for it all, hook, line, and sinker. I’d been so swept up in having a guy paying me positive attention for once, giving me compliments and flowers, and actually having someone besides Tavia to stand up for me. He carried on charming me and being a perfect, polite gentleman for weeks. Surely it couldn’t be an act.
But I found out the truth when it all came out the morning after we slept together. After a lifetime of bullying, I had no idea that another, deeper level of humiliation existed. Being pushed into mud puddles and laughed at while I struggled for breath felt like nothing compared to that morning.
That moment, naked and vulnerable next to Tom while he laughed, became a glass sculpture inside me. It shattered over and over again for years. Time never seemed to heal me, not when I saw him around all the time. He would give me that knowing smirk, maybe wink, or make a kissing noise, and I’d feel the shattering inside me all over again.
Sometimes, I didn’t even need to see him. I’d be feeling perfectly fine, in the middle of a conversation with Tavia, and my mind would just… go there. My traitorous brain pulled the memory like a card hidden up a sleeve, with no rhyme or reason.
I learned right then, staring at Tom in his boxers and my bucket of water in hand, that while vampire blood may have healed my asthma and my heart murmur, it did not heal that delicate glass sculpture inside my chest.
Recognition shaped his expression first, and then abject horror.
The glass sculpture broke.
“What… what the fuck?” Tom stumbled back, blinked, rubbed his eyes, then blinked again.
“Hi, Tom,” I said flatly. “Just helping to fix the fence.”
“Stay away from me!” He stumbled back some more, this time tripping on something and landing on his ass.
All I wanted to do was disappear into thin air. Maybe rewind time to a few seconds earlier, and I would know to linger in the shadows while Tom stumbled back to bed. Unfortunately, there was no unseeing that expression on his face. And he was now in my direct path to escape. I had no other choice but to approach him.
“I have to go around you,” I tried to explain.
But every step I took in his direction was met with horrified screams and frantic scrabbles backward. Tom’s eyes were wide, his chest heaving with panicked breaths.
“Oh God, oh fuck, please don’t bite me! Please. Someone help!”
He turned on his side and vomited. Probably more an effect of his drunkenness than seeing me, but it didn’t exactly make me feel any better.
I hurried past him, the sight of his curled-up form, hands over his neck as he whimpered, “No, please don’t,” worming its way from my peripheral vision deep into my psyche.
Lights inside trailers and cabins began turning on, muffled sounds of movement and voices coming from inside. Of course Tom’s noise would alert people and start a chain reaction of humiliation. I had to join the vampires at the perimeter before anyone else saw me.
A door opened just behind me and I quickened my pace.
“What’s going on?”
The pang of familiarity hit me right in the chest and my steps faltered. Robin! She raised me and Tavia, taking on both a big sister and motherly role to us. She’d been the main person I wanted to see. I couldn’t pass up the chance to say hi.
I turned toward the sound of her voice, putting on a smile to mask the despair of what just happened with Tom. “Hey, Robin.”
She was wrapped in a robe in her open doorway. The changes in her expression were in the reverse order of Tom’s. Horror hit her first, and then recognition.
I immediately realized my mistake. My fangs, although smaller than a full vampire’s, were on full display when I smiled, and I was standing right under one of the security lights. There was simply no hiding my blackened eyes.
“Amy?” Robin’s voice was filled with fear and sorrow. “My God, what happened to you?”
“It’s okay—” I started toward her, then stopped abruptly at her resulting flinch and retreat into her house.
She stared at me with the door now a barrier between us, only her head visible. The look on her face was somehow worse than Tom’s. I saw fear, revulsion, pity. The jagged glass pieces inside me crushed into thousands of tiny shards, all of them cutting so much deeper than ever before.
Neither she nor Tom had ever seen a brusang before, but that didn’t make the looks in their eyes hurt any less.
I wasn’t sure how long I stood there when something big and dark blocked my view of Robin.
“We’re repairing the damage from the attack as scheduled.” Rhain’s low, growly voice boomed from directly in front of me. “Naturally, we can only work at night. There is nothing to be alarmed about. We’ll be finishing shortly.”
He turned and used gentle maneuvering on my shoulders to turn me around as well. With light pressure on my back, he urged me to walk. I became unfrozen somehow and went with him to the perimeter. It was only when he guided me to the van that I realized my hands were empty. Rhain had taken my bucket of water.
“Don’t worry about the fence. I’ll help Des and Laith finish it up,” he said in the softest tone I’d ever heard from him. “Just… have a seat. We’re almost done here.”
“Okay.” I felt like a robot that had been shut down. The humiliation had reached so deep, the glass sculpture crushed and pulverized to the point of feeling nothing.
Rhain hesitated like he wanted to say something but then thought better of it, and left me there.
So I sat alone, with nothing but Tom and Robin’s horrified expressions playing on a loop in my head.