Chapter 25 #2
Charlie watched the other vampires sampling from their glasses, making appreciative noises, discussing the blood like it was wine.
The normality of it all made his head spin.
"Try the B positive," Connor suggested. "It's the easiest for beginners."
Charlie lifted the glass, the crystal cool against his fingers. The blood inside looked almost burgundy in the candlelight. He brought it to his lips, took the tiniest sip.
It didn't make him faint. It didn't even make him dizzy.
It tasted like summer.
"Holy shit," he breathed.
Maya grinned. "Right? Whatever they do to it here, it works."
The rest of the meal passed in a blur. Charlie found himself actually enjoying the blood, sipping carefully from each glass, marveling at how different they tasted.
The other vampires included him in their conversations naturally, asking about his experiences without judgment, sharing their own disasters and adaptations.
For the first time since that night behind Rosie's, Charlie felt like maybe he wasn't a mistake.
After dinner, Thomas offered to show Charlie to his room. They walked through hallways lined with what looked like genuine antiques, their footsteps muffled by runners that probably cost more than Charlie had made in his entire working life.
"Maya wasn't joking about the books, just so you know," Thomas said, stopping at a door marked with a brass number twelve. "There's a whole series on adaptation challenges. It helped me figure out why I kept breaking everything I touched for the first month."
"You did?"
"Let's say I had some trouble gauging my strength." Thomas waited while Charlie fumbled with the old-fashioned key. "Viktor says you're three weeks old?"
"Four now, I guess."
"And you made it this long on your own?"
Charlie pushed open the door. The room beyond was simple but comfortable—a bed with far too many pillows, a writing desk, and built-in bookshelves. A window that looked out onto the gardens. "Wasn't really alone. I had help."
Thomas leaned against the doorframe. "Your sire?"
"No. He left. Someone else." Charlie didn't know how to explain Simon. The hunter who was supposed to kill him. The man whose blood sang in Charlie's veins. The person whose kisses both felt like drowning and drawing breath for the first time.
"Complicated?"
"You could say that."
Thomas nodded like this made perfect sense. "It often is." He straightened. "Integration session's in an hour. It's in the East wing. Make sure to follow the incredibly pretentious signs for 'Authentic Movement Studio.' We're doing control exercises tonight."
"Control exercises?"
"Learning to moderate strength, speed, senses. Basic stuff, but useful. Unlike Tuesday's session on 'Embracing Your Eternal Journey Through Journaling.'"
After Thomas left, Charlie sat on the bed. It was firm but not too firm, with sheets that felt expensive against his skin. The room smelled faintly of lavender and something else, something that made his vampire senses settle in a way they hadn't since turning.
He should feel safe.
Happy, even.
These people understood him. They'd given him answers, community, blood that didn't make him want to die.
It was a nice change from spending his nights at the convenience store and sucking ketchup out of plastic sachets.
So why did his chest feel hollow?
A knock interrupted his thoughts. Viktor entered without waiting for an answer, closing the door behind him with deliberate care.
"Well?"
"It's nice." Charlie pulled his knees up. "Everyone's nice. The blood was incredible. They have a library about vampire problems."
"But?"
"Is it real?" Charlie voiced a thought he hadn't quite finished thinking. "The donors, the ethics, all of it? How do they pay for it all? Can anything be this easy?"
Viktor moved to the window, peering through the heavy curtains. "That's a good question." He turned back. "I gotta tell you, kid, I don't know. When I first came here, they gave me blood that didn't come from hunting. That was enough."
"And now?"
"Now I notice things. Like how frequently the human staff changes. Like how the blood is always just a little too perfect and nobody talks about how the donors are recruited."
Charlie's stomach twisted. "So it's all a lie?"
"Not necessarily. Maybe it's exactly what they say. Maybe they found a way to ethically source blood from willing humans." Viktor pulled something from his boot—a backup phone. "Or maybe we're all just really good at not asking questions we don't want answered."
He held out the phone. "You wanted to text someone?"
Charlie took it with hands that weren't quite steady. He found Simon's number among the contacts.
But what could he write?
Something about how his night had gone?
Would Simon even care?
No, Simon did care. That was one of the few things Charlie was sure of right now.
He typed: At the retreat place viktor mentioned. Im okay. They have really good blood here that doesnt make me sick. Everyone is nice to me. It feels weird.
He stared at the message, then added: miss you
He hit send before he could second-guess himself.
"He's going to come here," Viktor said. It wasn't a question.
"Maybe."
"Charlie." Viktor's voice held gentle warning. "I saw how he was with you. How you were with him. Your bond won't let him stay away."
"He has a job to do."
"He had a job to do," Viktor corrected. "Whatever Simon is now, he's not the Organization's perfect hunter anymore. You changed that."
"I ruined it."
"Or maybe you saved him." Viktor moved to the door. "Integration session is in forty minutes. Try to rest." He left Charlie sitting on the too-comfortable bed, staring at the phone in his hand, waiting for a response that might not come.
Twenty minutes later, the phone buzzed.
Stay safe.
Then, after a pause:
Don't be needy.
Charlie scoffed at the phone. He wasn't being needy.
But five minutes before the integration session began, just as Charlie was looking for a good spot to hide the phone, it buzzed again.
I'll be with you soon.
Charlie pressed the phone against his chest for another moment. The hollow sensation eased, just slightly.
A chime echoed through the house. Integration session.
Charlie hid the phone under the pillow, smoothed his clothes and went to learn how to be a proper vampire from people who seemed to have it all figured out. He'd pay attention, take notes, and try to belong.
But part of him—maybe the biggest part—would be counting the minutes until Simon arrived.