The Night House (19 page)

She found a decrepit house of kids like her after a few weeks of starving on the sidewalks. A bunch of strays, they called themselves. Street kids. They were quick and smart, as smart as strays could be, and they didn’t ask a lot of questions. Perfect for her. Who needs New York when you have plenty of cigarettes here in Philly?

Bulldog, the sort-of-leader of the group, walks beside her after a night of scavenging. They’re silent most of the way home. When they reach a red light, she holds herself against the wind. He hands her half a cigarette.

“Found it a block up. All these spoiled kids toss ’em when they’re barely smoked.”

She takes it for the warmth and to distract from the gnawing pain in her stomach. “Thanks,” she manages through a fit of coughs.

When she takes a deep breath to clear her lungs, she sees someone across the street, staring at her with unfeeling eyes. Even in the moonlight, she can see he is off. He doesn’t blink, doesn’t shiver. And he is staring at her with a living hunger.

Vampire.

She can’t move. Can’t breathe.

The light turns green.

His gaze has her pinned to the spot. Those eyes are all she sees. Like black marbles. He can taste her with those eyes. She lets him. How could she not? He is hypnotic…

“Yo, we’re gonna miss the light.” Bulldog drags her by the arm through the street.

The connection is broken; as soon as it is, she tells him to
run
and she doesn’t stop until they’re standing outside of the house. Then she vomits until it feels like her stomach is turned inside out. She can still feel its gaze on her. And once again, she did nothing to stop it. That thought brings more bile up her throat. Even after all this time, she is
still
powerless against those beasts.

“What’s wrong?” Bulldog asks, touching her back.

“Nothing,” she spits.

And she’s still lying about it.

***

Winter begins to loosen its grip, giving way to spring. It’s warm enough for her to take a walk by herself. She feels every muscle and bone in her body. She’s never been this skinny in her life.

If the hunger doesn’t drive her mad, the other kids will. They’ve been telling scary stories all night. She’s had to listen to the same tale told eight different ways about a bloodthirsty ghost, or werewolf or vampire, killing a family of innocents and
legend has it, he roams these very streets…

She takes a deep breath and fills herself with the warm night air. It almost calms her. Even if the others don’t see them, she does. The vampires are everywhere. She can
feel
them around her, like knives at her back. They stare at the kids, like they know no one will miss them. The kids don’t believe her, no one does. They can’t see the difference like she can. They don’t see their empty eyes, and they don’t feel the chill. People don’t understand that they’re in danger.

The kids all think that they’re safe, because they always go out armed. But she knows they’ll come after anyone. Street kids or a family of hunters living in the suburbs of Bucks County.

She is one of the few kids who goes out alone at night. But even she isn’t completely defenseless. She has a nail, the flat end against her palm so the sharp end juts up between her fingers, a convenient way to hold it if she needs it in a pinch. She remembers her parents telling her that iron is the best weapon. It probably wouldn’t do any real damage, just enough for her to get away.

It’s been two long years since she lost her parents. No one has paid for it except her. And all she can think is that she let her parents down. She’s not a hunter. She doesn’t even have a real home. She has nothing to show for herself. Even after all this time, she is still weak and scared.

Her calves burn, and she has to sit down to take a breath. She’s been walking for at least an hour. The sounds coming from her stomach are more mechanical than natural.

As she rubs her legs, she hears voices.

“Are you kidding me? ‘I want to taste fear?’ What kind of macho crap is that?” A female voice drips with annoyance.

“Caesar is a good client, if a bit dramatic.” The male voice sounds bored, unemotional. “Besides, we’re not in the business of saying ‘no.’”

“You should think about changing occupations,” the female snaps.

She tries to make herself small. There is no one in sight, but she sees a staircase across the street, descending into the ground, like a cellar.

Adrenaline floods her body.

“We need to fill our vacancy, Ash.” The male sounds pissed.

“It’s not my fault that not everyone is clamoring to work at the Night House.” The female, Ash, stalks up the stairs, into view. Her black pencil skirt is barely long enough. A silky blue shirt is tucked into the top of the skirt. Her spiky heels click on the sidewalk as she paces. She’s like a supermodel. Gorgeous white-blond hair cascades down her back. Her arms and legs shine like alabaster in the moonlight.

Vampire
. The word surges through her with every beat of her heart. She needs to get away quietly.

The male ascends the stairs, surveying the street with suspicion.

“What?” Ash says. “I need some air.”

The male looks right at her. “We have a listener.”

She runs, but then Ash is right there, towering over her. “How much of that did you hear?” Ash asks with full red lips.

“Nothing.” She searches for the quickest escape route.

Ash’s gaze softens. “Poor dear. Are you lost? You’re so thin.”

She tightens her fist around the nail against her palm. “I’m fine.”

Ash pouts. “Not yet. But I know how to make you right again. I can show you something. It’ll cure your hunger and make you feel wonderful.” The vampire smiles as her hand flies out.

Pain stabs her arm, and she covers it with her hand as blood rushes out.

The vampire’s thumb slides over the newly made cut. Ash puts the blood to her lips, then freezes with her finger in her mouth. She shouts, “FINN! Get over here!”

She feels it coming back to her, the sheer terror of that night. She can’t move, can’t do anything. Her parents’ screams ring in her ears. The female grips her arm so tightly that it hurts. She’s hauled to her feet.

The one named Finn appears at her side. His eyes are on the cut on her arm, the blood welling to the surface. He inhales, then says to Ash, “Bring her inside. And
do not
drink from her again.”

“Inside?” Ash’s voice goes up in pitch. Her nails bite into the girl’s arm as she grips her in place. “You’re not going to give her to Caesar, are you? She’s way too good for him.”

“I won’t repeat myself,” Finn says and disappears down those steps.

Her heart rate has tripled. She is waiting for a moment to run, to get away. She’d rather be a street kid than suffer whatever fate awaits her at the hands of these vamps. She doesn’t want to die like this. Gathering all her strength, she jams the nail into Ash’s side.

The vampire screams and releases her.

Running feels like getting stabbed in the lungs, but she puts everything into it. If she can just get to a populated area, get away from these vampires. If she can get back to Bulldog and the other kids, she will treasure her dirty home and her sad life. She will try harder and save herself and—

A searing pain tears through her shoulder. She is lifted off the ground by arms that feel like metal around her ribs. Her breath is stolen from her chest.

Ash hisses in her ear. “You’re dead.”

And then fangs sink into her neck.

It is so much worse than any shot from the doctor. Her neck burns, and she feels her blood being drawn in through the vampire’s straw-like teeth. She remembers her father telling her about their hollow teeth.

Why is she thinking of this now? If her parents were here, they would kill this vampire and save her. They could take her home.

Where is her vampire savior now?

Her body turns cold from the inside out. Her heart is made of ice. The air goes right through her.

The world turns black.

***

She wakes up to a throbbing in her head and shoulder. There is a bandage around her neck. Before she can scream for help or anything at all, she sees him leaning in the doorway. Finn.

“You’re awake,” he says. “Are you conscious?”

The memory comes back to her like a jagged dream. She pales at the realization.

“You’re…a vampire…” she manages through her bone-dry mouth.

“Smart,” he says with just a hint of sarcasm. “What gave me away?”

She can’t say anything. The fear has returned, like a faithful pet sitting on her chest.

“You’re in shock.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Great.”

“Did you save me?” she chokes out.

His eyes meet hers. They are black and seem to go on for miles. There is a buzzing in her skull. The room is shaking, melting away. The man in the doorway is not a vampire. He is her father. His face is stern, like when she broke a glass by accident. But he walks over to her, and he touches her neck.

“That will need time to heal,” he says.

“Can we go home?” she asks her father.

“Where is your home?” he asks, sitting on her bed. He puts his arm to his mouth, and then he is bleeding on her.

“I don’t have a home,” she says. “Not since you and Mom died.”

Her neck stings and she winces. But it begins to fade, leaving a cooling sensation behind. He is healing her.

“What is your name?”

It takes her a minute to remember. “Bianca St. Germain. I’m so tired,” she says into the pillow. It’s comfortable in here. When she opens her eyes, the hallucination is gone. The vampire is standing over her, contemplative.

“I just recently let my hostess go. Perhaps you can fill her position. You could stay here. You would be safe.”

“I could have been dead.” She’s not sure if this is a good or bad thing. “Why did you stop her from killing me?”

He folds his arms. “I can use you.”

James

The silence that follows Bianca’s words sends chills up my spine. She expects me to turn away and never look back at her. There is so much hate in her heart. She thinks I will hate her as much as she hates herself.

I can’t fully decide what I think. But I know one thing. I earned these memories, and I can’t betray her trust.

“Bianca.”

She jumps at my voice.

I slip my hand back into hers. “None of this matters.”

She lets her eyes slide shut. Relief begins to ease the pain in her chest.

“You think you’re weak, but you’re not. Thinking like that is what’s killing you.”

We stay like that for a while. I hold her hand and focus on something other than her. I don’t want to be in her head. I’m trying to stay out of her emotions. What do I feel?

I want her to trust me. After a moment, I pull my sleeve over my hand and try to dab the tears away. She doesn’t fight me, but there is no energy in her. I turn her face toward me. She meets my gaze with a defeated one.

“I’m so sick of fighting.”

I feel it in every inch of her, that exhaustion, like a second skin. It weighs her down.

“I know.”

She leans her head against my shoulder. Her hands rest on my chest, and she keeps bunching up the fabric of my shirt in her fists. I try to ignore my nerves and wrap my arms around her. This is about her, not me. And yet, it feels right to hold her.

“I don’t want to die.”

Her words are quiet, mumbled into my shirt. It’s not exactly a promise to get clean, but it’s another shred of hope. She wants to live. Maybe I’m doing good after all.

“I’ll help you.”

She smiles and leans up to kiss me on the cheek. “I actually believe you.”

My mind flashes back to the first night we met, and I’m dizzy at the thought of kissing her like that again. Then I chase the thought away. I’m here for her, not me.

“I’m glad you told me all of this,” I say.

She nods. “I forget how…forgiving people can be.”

My phone goes off, then. Bianca jumps.

It’s a text from Ally.

Thunderstorms imminent.
Concert canceled.

“Hey, my family’s coming home. They got rained out.”

Fear spreads over her face. I take her hand.

“Can you stay? I don’t want you to leave.”

“If you were anyone else, I’d already be halfway to the Night House.”

“Is that a yes?” I ask.

“Do I really need to meet your parents?”

I laugh at that. “They’re not going to pry, I promise. Just say hello. It’s Ally I really want you to meet.”

This does nothing to ease her concern. “Why her?”

“I think you might be able to talk some sense into her.”

I tell Bianca about Ally’s past with vampires. Her frown deepens with every word I say.

“Is she going to be mad at me?”

“No, but she might try to pump you for information,” I say. “I’m worried that she’s getting more interested in vampires. She has this…determination. I just don’t know what for.”

Bianca nods. “Don’t worry. I’m not about to advertise how wonderful life at the Night House is.”

I ignore the bite in her words and send Ally a text message telling her that Bianca is here with me and to tell our parents that I have a friend from school over. Her reply is unintelligible. She was probably too excited to type actual words.

Outwardly, Bianca seems okay with this, but I feel her nerves setting in. “What do you want to do?” I ask her, hoping to keep her focused on something else. “We could watch TV or something…”

“I haven’t watched TV in years,” she mumbles. “What do people watch?”

So we sit in the living room, flipping channels until everyone else gets home. As soon as the door opens, Bianca starts to rub her wrists. Every motion sends a slow burn into my skin, like a stain spreading.

Ally is the first one over. “Hi! I’m Ally, though I’m sure you know that.”

Bianca nods. “I definitely figured that one out.”

Ally’s eyes have never been wider. She takes a seat across from us, staring at Bianca as my parents find their way over.

“Hello, Bianca, is it?” Mom asks hesitantly.

“Yeah.” Bianca shifts and presses her wrist into the edge of the stool.