Chapter 21
Chapter
Twenty-One
Simon considered letting the call go to voice mail, but that wouldn't solve anything, would it?
God, could any of his problems even be solved anymore?
Maybe not.
But he'd never been one to run away from trouble. He released a breath and answered the phone.
"Where are you?" Reuben's voice cut through before Simon could speak.
"Hunting."
"Your forty-eight hours are up." Papers rustled in the background. "I need you here. Now."
Simon's gaze found Charlie on the couch, the vampire he'd saved tonight. He was still unconscious, the UV blanket rising and falling with his shallow breaths. "I'm close to a breakthrough." Or a breakdown, really.
"Now, Simon. That's not a request."
The line went dead.
Viktor raised an eyebrow from his armchair. "That sounded friendly."
"He wants me to report in person." Simon pocketed his phone, mind starting to race. Reuben would give him maybe an hour before sending someone to find him. After that, with his deadline expired, Charlie would become fair game for any hunter looking to pad their numbers.
"They'll reassign the target," Viktor said, following his thoughts. "Someone else will come for him."
"Multiple someones, probably." Simon knew how it worked. A failed hunt meant open season. Every ambitious hunter in the Organization would want to claim the kill Simon couldn't make. "They'll be mobilizing already."
Viktor set down his beer. "I know people. In the community."
Simon raised a skeptical eyebrow at his friend. "The vampire community you mentioned?"
"There's a safe house about two hours north. They take in strays sometimes." Viktor glanced at Charlie. "He'd be safer there. For some reason, the organization hasn't caught on to them."
Charlie stirred on the couch, one eye cracking open. His voice came out rough, confused. "Vampires?"
"You're awake." Simon moved closer without thinking about it.
Charlie struggled to sit up, the blanket sliding off his shoulders. The burns had faded to faint pink marks. "Did someone say vampires?"
"There's a community," Viktor explained. "Other vampires who could help you. Teach you how to survive properly."
Charlie's whole body went rigid. "No."
"Think about it," Viktor insisted. "It's your best option."
"Other vampires hate me." Charlie pulled his knees to his chest. "Like that one at Rosie's who called me a joke. And last week one tried to recruit me for his weird vampire cult and when I said no, he told me I was an embarrassment to the species."
Simon hadn't known about that last part, but he couldn't say that he was surprised to hear that Charlie struggled to make friends among vampires. "When did this happen?"
"Tuesday. Outside my apartment." Charlie's fingers twisted in the blanket. "He could smell hot sauce on me. Said I was disgusting. That I should just walk into the sun if I wasn't going to commit to being a real vampire."
The casual cruelty of it made Simon want to find that particular vampire and stake him.
"This community is different," Viktor said gently. "They're not like that."
"It doesn't matter," Charlie said. "I don't want to live with a bunch of vampires. I just want my life back." His shoulders hunched. He looked miserable.
But the sooner he accepted the truth, the better. "Your old life is gone." The words came out harsher than Simon intended. "Pretending you're not a vampire won't help you."
Charlie looked up at him, something raw in his expression. "Easy for you to say. You're still human."
Viktor snorted.
Simon glared at him.
Viktor raised his hands at him in a placating manner before turning to Charlie again. "Simon's got all the emotional finesse of a used up corkscrew, but he's right. You're a vampire now, and you need to learn how to get by as one."
Charlie looked doubtful. "I faint at the sight of blood."
"And yet you drank from Simon just fine." Viktor gave him a smile as if this was a good thing while Simon's wrist tingled with the memory of Charlie's teeth on it.
Charlie licked his lips as if he were experiencing a similar memory. "I got myself trapped on a rooftop."
"Your powers don't come intuitive to you. That's fine. You can still learn to control them. All fledglings need training."
"How do you know that?" Charlie cast a suspicious look at Viktor.
Before Viktor could answer however, Simon's phone buzzed again. A text from Reuben: Thirty minutes or I'm sending a team.
"I have to go." Simon turned toward the door. "Viktor, can you—"
"Yes, I'll take care of your fledgling." Viktor stood, stretching. "Don't worry about it at all."
Charlie looked between them, panic creeping into his features. "You're leaving?"
"Reuben is suspicious enough already. If I don't show..." Simon didn't finish. They all knew what would happen.
Charlie stood on unsteady legs, the blanket falling away completely. He looked small in Simon's hoodie, vulnerable. "When will you be back?"
Charlie shouldn't have asked that. Simon was a hunter. Charlie was a vampire. Just a few hours ago, Charlie had tried to run from him. He shouldn't want Simon to come back to him.
But nothing was as it should be now. "A few hours," Simon found himself saying. "Don't leave the apartment."
"Wasn't planning on it." Charlie's attempt at humor fell flat. "Not really a daytime person anymore."
Simon opened the door, then paused. Looked back at Charlie standing there drowning in his hoodie, Viktor beside him like some kind of vampire life coach.
This was insane. He was leaving a vampire in the care of an ex-hunter so he could go lie to his mentor about why he hadn't killed said vampire. His life had veered so far off course he couldn't even see the original path anymore.
"Simon?" Charlie's voice was small.
"What?"
"Be careful."
The genuine concern in those two words did something to Simon's chest he didn't want to examine.
He left without responding, taking the stairs three at a time, trying not to think about how he'd fed Charlie earlier, how the phantom burn of Charlie's pain still echoed in his skin…
How completely fucked he would be when Reuben figured out the truth.
The door clicked shut behind Simon, and Charlie stood there in the borrowed hoodie, staring at a stranger who was apparently going to teach him how to be a proper vampire.
Viktor shoved his hands in his pockets. "So."
"So."
They looked at each other across the small living room. Charlie had no idea what vampire training involved, but he was already sure he was going to fail spectacularly.
How else could this possibly go down?
"Should I... sit?" Charlie gestured vaguely at the couch.
"If you want."
Charlie sat. Then immediately stood back up. "Actually, what are we doing? Like, is there a vampire manual? A PowerPoint? Do I take notes?"
Viktor's mouth twitched. "You want to take notes on being a vampire?"
"I don't know! I've been winging it for three weeks and all I've learned is that 'red things' are not a food group and I can't jump off buildings."
"Let's start simple." Viktor moved closer, studying him with the kind of focus that made Charlie want to hide behind the couch. "Can you control your fangs?"
Charlie touched his mouth self-consciously. "They just kind of... happen."
"Show me."
"I don't know how to make them…" Charlie thought about blood, and his fangs descended immediately. "Oh."
"Good. Now retract them."
Charlie tried to think about not-blood. About taxes. About his overdue library books. His fangs stayed firmly in place.
"I'm trying."
"Don't try. Just let them go back."
"That's the same as trying!" Charlie's words came out oddly as he tried to speak around his fangs. "Ith's like telling someone to just relax when they're thressed."
Viktor pressed his lips together, clearly fighting not to laugh at Charlie's lisp. "Okay, different approach. What makes them go away normally?"
"Fainting?"
"Besides that."
Charlie thought about it. "When I'm distracted, I guess? Like when I'm at work and focusing on not dropping change."
"So focus on something else." Viktor grabbed a book from his shelf. "Read this out loud."
Charlie took the book—some thriller about spies—and started reading. Three paragraphs in, his fangs retracted on their own.
"See? Just needed to stop thinking about it."
"Great. So my vampire power is not thinking." Charlie handed the book back. "I should be really good at that."
Viktor gave him a small smile. "Everyone starts somewhere. When I first got enhanced strength, I ripped three doors off their hinges in a week. The Organization made me practice with eggs for a month."
"Enhanced?" Charlie asked. "What does that mean?"
Viktor's smile faded. He walked to the kitchen, and Charlie thought he'd pushed too far, but then Viktor opened his refrigerator and pulled out something that made Charlie's stomach clench.
Blood bags. Medical grade, with hospital labels.
"Why do you have those?"
Viktor didn't answer the question. Instead, he set the blood bags on the coffee table between them. Charlie immediately scooted back on the couch, pressing himself against the armrest.
"We need to work on your tolerance," Viktor said, sitting in the chair across from him. "Fainting at blood will definitely get you laughed out of the vampire community."
"I can't help it."
"You can." Viktor picked up one of the bags, and Charlie's vision immediately started to tunnel.
He gripped the couch cushion, forcing himself to keep his eyes open.
Viktor seemed surprised by his reaction. "I'm not even opening it."
"I'm sorry," Charlie apologized for being pathetic. "It's just—knowing what's in there—"
"It's B positive, if that helps."
"Why would that help?"
Viktor shrugged. "Some vampires have preferences. Types they respond to better." He tilted the bag, watching the blood shift inside. "What type is Simon?"
"How would I know his blood type?"
"You've fed from him twice. You can't tell?"
Charlie's face heated. Would a proper vampire have figured it out? "I don't know," he admitted.