Chapter 17 #2
I formulated the question: Was I a vampire?
I spent several minutes listing reasons I couldn’t be one, but each of them had a counterargument.
I tried reversing the question and listing the reasons I was most certainly a vampire—sometimes going to the place you don’t want to go gives you clarity—but all those reasons had counters, too.
Everything centered on Madame Dupuy’s test: Could I see my reflection?
I could, so I wasn’t. But after what Le Bec said, I didn’t quite trust it.
I wanted a second opinion. I was trying to remember if she’d said anything else about vampires when my eyes fell on her silver pendant, still sitting on my bedside table, the broken chain pooled around it.
Silver burns vampires. That’s what she’d said when she’d given it to me.
I reached for it, then stopped. Did I really, really want to know?
If I knew, I’d have to make choices. Hard ones.
I sat perfectly still, balancing between the Tosh I had been and the Tosh I might be.
I sighed, counted to three, and touched the pendant.
Pain sizzled on my skin, and I jerked my hand back, staring at the filigree pattern branded on my finger. I felt like I’d stepped off a cliff.
When Madame Dupuy brought me the throat tea just before she left for the evening, she was smiling. “Your father has agreed that you can return to school tomorrow.” I blinked at her, completely unprepared for this development. “What is wrong?” she asked.
“I’m…shocked,” I whispered. I hadn’t thought I’d get out of the apartment until regular school started in September.
“Yes, well, both of you need a change of scenery. And you are healing exceptionally well. Your father understands that it is the logical thing to do.”
“Thank you.” I was willing to bet that he wouldn’t have seen the logic if Madame Dupuy hadn’t pointed it out to him.
She waved my thanks away. “It is nothing.” There were restrictions, of course.
Madame Dupuy had to walk me to and from school.
I couldn’t go anywhere unless she or Dad went with me.
I couldn’t hang out with anyone. But it was better than being trapped in this apartment forever.
She’d also convinced Dad to return to the office.
It would be so excellent for things to get back to normal.
I finished my tea. Madame Dupuy went home.
I gathered up my school things and loaded them into my backpack, wondering whether I could trust myself not to do anything…
vampire-y to my classmates. Dad came in as I zipped my pack up.
“Madame Dupuy really advocated for you, Tosh.” My heart stuttered.
What if I let her down? The burn on my finger throbbed.
What if I hurt someone at school? “And she was right,” he continued.
“It’s time for both of us to get out of this apartment.
But do not put yourself in harm’s way for any reason.
” He told me the rules again, and I assured him that I would follow them.
“We’re going to get through this,” he said, hugging me. “Now get some sleep.”
The city settled down into night. My Paris chat woke up, and I shared the good news. I told Mina and Lily, too, but they were both at work, so they wouldn’t see it till they had a break.
Me: I still can’t see you all though
Nick: But at least you get out of the apartment. That’s huge
Martine: We are so happy for you
Youssef posted some new photos, Nick shared a video Sophie had made for me at her favorite park, and after an hour or so, the chat went silent.
I should have gone to sleep since it was a school night, but I was ravenous, so I went to the kitchen and foraged in the cupboards and fridge.
Out of habit, I’d gone straight for the Ritter Sport bars Madame Dupuy kept on hand, because chocolate, but the smell nauseated me.
I unscrewed the lid on the Nutella jar, retched, and screwed it right back on.
There were fresh apricots sitting in a bowl on the counter, and I picked one up.
I put it down again. The honey-and-flowers smell made me gag.
I opened the fridge and caught a faint, delicious, blood-tinged odor.
Raw meat. I checked the meat drawer, but it was empty.
Then I checked the garbage can, hoping Madame Dupuy had tossed the trimmings in there.
It was empty, and I remembered that she always took the trash down to the dumpsters after dinner.
That used to be my job. Back when I was free.
I didn’t stop to put my shoes on, just let myself quietly out of the apartment and rode the elevator down to the underground parking garage, where the dumpsters lived.
I could smell ripening meat scraps even before the elevator doors opened.
I ran to the dumpsters, my bare feet slapping on the cool concrete, and threw open the first lid.
It held a feast: blood-slicked butcher paper and meat trimmings in bag after bag.
I tore one open, brushed the coffee grounds off a handful of fatty trimmings, and sucked the blood out.
They left a greasy, not-unpleasant aftertaste.
I poked through the bag and found the butcher paper I knew would be there.
I uncrumpled it and methodically licked the blood off.
Then I tore into the next bag. I despoiled bag after bag of trash until I’d satisfied my hunger.
Only then, as I wiped my mouth for the last time, did the wrongness of what I’d done hit me.
I’d just gone through garbage to find blood.
I stared at the filigree pattern burned on my finger.
There was no way to avoid the conclusion.
I really was a vampire. I sat down with my back against a dumpster.
How could I trust myself at school? But if I told Madame Dupuy I didn’t want to go, she’d wonder why, and that was not a question I wanted her to be asking.
Not given her family business. Maybe she wouldn’t stake me herself, but she knew people who would.
All she’d have to do would be to make a phone call.
Unless there was some way to control vampire mode. Or shut it off.
I remembered feeling it ebb away when I had been about to attack the unhoused man, just before Le Bec had crept up on me.
What had caused that? I went back up to our apartment, chewing on the question, and washed my face with scalding water to get rid of the smell of garbage.
I brushed my teeth for about ten minutes, trying to scrub away every remnant of what I’d just devoured.
Then I fell into bed and lay there, wide awake, frightened, and haunted by the smell of…
minty-fresh toothpaste? It filled my nostrils, so strong I could hardly smell anything else.
I got up, went to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and stuck my head into the meat drawer.
All I could smell was peppermint. I remembered the Altoids in my pack, left over from debate team, where I’d shared them with Lily and Mina before rounds.
“Blow them away with your arguments,” Mina would say as she took one out of the tin, “not with your coffee breath.”
Maybe the curiously strong mints could keep v mode at bay.