Chapter 11
The blood fills my mouth, and the taste is… wrong. It’s like I licked the New York City sidewalk and let someone stub out their cigarette on my tongue. Pungent and acidic, the thick, warm liquid burns my throat as I swallow it down. “Is this the same blood you always have?” I croak before gagging.
Mom sets a bowl of leafy greens on the dining table, eyes rising to mine. “Yes, darling. Delivered fresh this morning from the blood bank.”
My stomach churns, violent waves of a stormy sea rolling in my gut. The same thing has been happening more and more over the past week.
…Ever since I fed on Luc.
Swallowing down the bile that climbs up my throat, my fingers tighten around my wineglass, and I plaster a sunny smile on my face.
“Oh, I must be so used to synthetic blood.” It’s a lie.
Every family dinner and holiday, my parents splurge on real blood from one of the blood banks in the city.
It’s never upset my body… until today. “What can I do to help?”
Shiny white hair pinned back into a perfectly sleek bun, my mother flits around the dining table, laying out dishes. Each one is piled high with food.
It smells divine. Normally, she’d be scolding me for sneaking bites here and there, but the thought of food has the contents of my already empty stomach threatening to make an unwanted appearance.
“I’ve got it, darling. Your brother and Maggie should be here soon. Why don’t you keep your father company?” She tips her head toward the living room, where Dad stokes the fire.
The fact that he’s not working on a holiday is weird. Even weirder, he’s wearing slacks and a sweater. I can count on one hand the times I’ve seen Kasmir Bielski dressed in something other than a three-piece suit and tie.
A ruthless businessman, through and through, he was absent for much of my childhood. Something he’s been trying to make amends for as of late.
Setting my glass on the coffee table, I plunk down on the sofa and curl my feet beneath me. “How’s retired life, Dad?”
He settles on the other end of the couch, facing me.
After a rather ugly falling out with Viktor over his career choice and relationship with Maggie, Dad decided to step away from his investment company.
“It’s… different. I spent decades living by the numbers, whether it be a strict work schedule or watching the market fluctuate, so I’m a little lost without my routine. ”
“It’s never too late to find a new routine.”
He chuckles as a rare smile crinkles the corners of his onyx eyes. “I’m quite enjoying figuring out what the new normal is for me. Can’t say I mind spending more time with your mother.” Like magnets, his gaze pings to Mom, where she fusses over the place settings on the dining table.
As if she can feel his eyes on her, she looks up, a faint burst of rosy pink coloring her cheeks. Even after centuries, it’s obvious they still love each other.
“You know, Vanessa.” Dad’s deep voice pulls me back to our conversation. “Richard’s son is newly single. He’s a vampire.” His black eyebrows waggle with insinuation.
My answering eye roll is second nature. “Dad! You promised.” I give him a pointed look. “No more meddling in my love life. I’ll settle down when I’m ready.”
His usually stony features crumble into a wince. “Sorry. Old habits die hard. You know I’m trying, right?” The heavy weight of his arm wraps around me in a hug.
“I know.”
In a show of affection that I’m still getting used to from him, he pulls me into his cool body and places a kiss on the side of my head. “I just want you to be happy, sweetheart.”
Sinking into the embrace, I let it calm my queasy stomach. “I am happy, Dad. I have my own home. My own business... Which is doing amazing, by the way. Thanks for asking.” Smiling, I elbow him in the side.
And I got fucked six ways to Sunday by a brooding minotaur. Why wouldn’t I be happy?
Oh, I don’t know. Because you don’t have anyone to share your success with.
You come home to an empty house every day. Collapse into bed. Get up and do it all over again.
Rinse and repeat.
Maybe it’s time for a change.
His breath flutters against my hair, and his words pull me out of my self-deprecating thoughts. “I’m proud of you, Vanessa. I know I don’t say it nearly enough. But you built Urban Oasis all on your own.”
I’m stunned to silence by his blatant praise.
Until a few months ago, he had Viktor’s and my lives mapped out for us. He was unwilling to see reason when either of us told him that the path he wanted us to walk wasn’t what we wanted.
He was blinded by prejudice and old-fashioned expectations. Wanting me to marry a successful vampire male and pop out babies.
As if! Like breeding is the only thing women are good for. Eye roll.
Viktor may have had it worse. Dad belittled his career choice as a nanny. On our 100th birthday, Viktor was set to give up everything and work alongside Dad at his investment firm. Until Maggie came along.
Speaking of. The front door opens, and my brother breezes inside, arms stuffed with presents. Behind him, his mate, Maggie, and her six-year-old daughter, Lily, scurry in with the chilly January wind.
It was love at first sight for her and Viktor. She even put Dad in his place. And with some help from Mom, he’s on his way to redemption.
Don’t get me wrong, he still slips up—like trying to set me up with someone he deems “acceptable”—but he’s trying. And that’s all I can ask.
Our family is slowly healing. Becoming the solid unit of unconditional love it should have been for the past hundred years.
“Thanks, Dad,” I say, breaking our embrace and tugging him up from the couch with me. Together, we make our way over to greet my twin and his family.
In the entryway, Mom hugs Viktor, Maggie, and Lily before hanging up their coats.
Dad opens his arms for a hug, but Viktor extends his hand for a shake. Both men are rigid with their faces pinched. To say their relationship still needs work is the understatement of this century and the next.
“Awkward,” I sing-song before snatching Lily’s hand and pulling her behind me. “Come on, little miss. I think there are some presents hiding around here somewhere.” Lily giggles, trailing me to the pristine Christmas tree in the living room.
Not a branch out of place, every ornament is hung perfectly, and the glittering star on the tippy top nearly touches the vaulted ceilings. Mom goes all out for Christmas, and I can’t wait to see Lily’s already wide eyes get even wider when she opens her presents.
“Pie, Ness?” Maggie kneels on the carpet next to me.
She slides a plate onto the coffee table.
Juicy red cherries, dripping in sweet syrup, ooze over the flaky pie crust, all topped off with a heaping mound of whipped cream.
And since either Mom or Viktor made the pie from scratch, I’d bet my life on the fluffy white topping being homemade, too.
Food is their love language, which I’m usually all for, but my stomach hates me today.
“Umm.” Eyeing the decadent dessert, I will my tummy to settle.
“Maybe in a little bit. I’m feeling a bit off today.
” While everyone else enjoyed their meal earlier, I managed to swallow down a few bites—even if they were like ash on my tongue.
I’ve been sipping my blood wine all afternoon in hopes it would ease my nauseous belly. No such luck.
“So a little birdie told me you got snowed in on Christmas Eve.” Maggie’s tongue runs along the tines of her dessert fork, a smug grin etched across her face.
I throw a scowl at her, picking at my pie. “And was that little bird a seven-foot-tall grumpy minotaur?”
“Eight if you count the horns.” Her wink is downright salacious. “But I’ve been dying to ask you… What happened?”
“What makes you think something happened?”
“Well, since we got home from vacation, Jean-Luc has been holed up in my warehouse, hiding and being extra grouchy.” Setting her fork down, she pushes her empty plate to the center of the coffee table.
I blow out a breath and choose my words carefully. “Things got a little steamy, but it didn’t mean anything. We were just scratching an itch. Nothing more.”
“If you say so.” Pink lips split into a mirthful smirk, showcasing the adorable gap between her front teeth.
I sigh, running my hand over a wrinkle in my dress. “I’m practically allergic to relationships, Mags. It was just a fun fling.” The truth is, there’s been a strange ache in my chest ever since I left Maple Ridge Hollow. Like I left a piece of my heart behind… with a certain grumpy minotaur.
Combined with this weird and sudden aversion to blood, I’m tempted to run back to his cottage and beg him to give our mate bond a chance.
“You know, he’s a good guy. I think you two could be really happy together,” Maggie says, breaking the silence.
Mulling over her words, I take a healthy gulp of my blood wine. Throat on fire, I swallow it down, but this time… Oh, no.
I scramble from the floor and down the hall, Maggie’s frantic voice following on my heels.
Clambering to the bathroom, I collapse on the floor, barely getting the toilet seat up before the contents of my stomach explode from my mouth.
“Vanessa!” Maggie rushes in after me. Kneeling behind me, she gathers my hair and rubs my back while I continue to heave every last drop of blood I consumed over the past few hours into the toilet. “Shhh. It’s okay, Ness.”
Sweat dots my forehead, slicking the back of my neck as I grip the sides of the toilet bowl with clammy, shaking hands. Vampires don’t get sick. What the fuck is happening to me?
“Maybe you ate something bad?”
I shake my head, but another round of vomit burns a path up my esophagus before I can answer.
Through bleary eyes, I find the toilet water an ominous red color, like something out of a horror movie or a crime scene.
Dry heaving, I close my eyes and focus on the soothing circles Maggie’s hand makes on my back.
I don’t think there’s anything left in my stomach.
“What’s goin—” Viktor’s voice comes from the doorway.
“We were talking in the living room, then she bolted. I found her throwing up, but I think she’s done. Is this normal?”
I rest my head against the lip of the toilet bowl and welcome the cool touch of the porcelain against my feverish skin. I’m really glad Mom has a thorough house cleaner who came yesterday. “Not normal.” My voice is hoarse, the words stinging my throat as I speak.
A damp cloth is pressed to my forehead, followed by a hand stroking my hair. Viktor. “She’s burning up, too.”
“I think I’m okay.” Pushing them away, I plop onto my butt and lean against the wall. “I don’t think there’s anything left to come up.”
Concerned crimson eyes ping-pong from me to Maggie and back again. “Ness, let’s get you home so you can rest.”
“I’ll go grab your coat and purse,” Maggie says before leaving the room.
Energy zapped, all I can do is nod.
Home. Bed. Sounds heavenly.
Viktor helps me up, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I stand. My face is sallow and lackluster, purple bruising the skin under my eyes. Even my cheeks have a noticeable gaunt hollowness to them. I definitely did not look like this when I left the house this morning.
Weight braced on Viktor, I make it to the living room on wobbly legs. Mom stops us, cupping my cheeks and wiping the moisture from under my eyes. “What happened, darling?”
Shrugging, I lean into her touch. “I don’t know, Mom. Something doesn’t agree with my stomach.” I omit the part where this has been happening all week. Not the vomiting, but the nausea any time I eat or drink. “I’m sure I’ll be better in a few days.”
Her lips curve into a small smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Worry swims in the crimson pools as they search my face.
“Don’t worry, Mother. I’ll take her home and stay until she’s settled,” Viktor says as he drapes my coat over my shoulders.
“Call us tomorrow.” Slipping into boss mode, there’s an unvoiced command in Dad’s tone as he joins us by the door.
“I will.” My voice is weak as Viktor leads me out the door and to his car. He buckles me in, and I lean my forehead against the window, the cool glass like a balm on my overheated skin. I must doze off because the next time I open my eyes, I’m on the sofa in my living room.
The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the room, and there’s a fuzzy blanket tucked around me. “Viktor?”
“Ness. Hey. How are you feeling?” He comes from the kitchen with a glass of water.
Taking the water from him, I guzzle down half the glass before setting it on the coffee table. “I’m fine. I don’t know why everyone is fussing over me.”
“Vanessa.” My full name, uh-oh. “Vampires don’t get the flu or a stomach bug or even a common cold. This isn’t normal. I’m worried.”
When I sit up, Viktor props a pillow behind me. “It’s probably just something with the blood at Mom and Dad’s. I’m okay, Viki. You can leave.”
He’s going to fight me; I can tell by the defiant flare in his eyes and the purse of his lips. Always the caretaker. The protector. You’d never know we’re twins with the way Viktor has taken care of me our whole lives.
But this… whatever Luc’s blood triggered, it’s not something Viktor can fix.
“I’m fine, Viktor. Mom is ten minutes away. I promise I’ll call her if I get worse. Okay?”
“And you’ll call me in the morning.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
By the grace of some higher being, I stop my eyes from rolling. “I will call you in the morning.” Grabbing the remote from the table, my thumb presses the power button. “I’ll be here… resting… watching trashy television. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”
Sighing, he leans down and presses his lips to my forehead. They’re icy cold and refreshing on my clammy skin. “I’ll always get my panties in a twist over you, Ness. You’re my sister.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I push him away. “Love you, Viki.”
“Love you, too, Ness. Call me tomorrow or I’ll be breaking down your door.”
I silently salute him as he turns to leave. The spare key I gave him jiggles when he locks my door from the outside. All the fight leaves my body, and my heavy lids fall closed.