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- Herausgeber: anna ruggieri
- Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
- Sprache: Englisch
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025
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Cover
Title page
Book One of the In Aeternum Trilogy
By Allison Regina Gliot, FSP
Copyright
Library of Congress Control Number: 2023951955
ISBN 0-8198-3166-2ISBN 978-0-8198-3167-5
The Scripture quotations contained herein, except on page 183, are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Catholic Edition, Anglicized Text, copyright © 1989, Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
The Scripture quotation found on page 183 is taken from the New American Bible, revised edition © 2010, 1991, 1986, 1970 Confraternity of Christian Doctrine, Washington, D.C., and is used by permission of the copyright owner. All rights reserved. No part of the New American Bible may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
Cover art and design by Ryan McQuade
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
“P” and PAULINE are registered trademarks of the Daughters of St. Paul.
Copyright © 2025, Daughters of St. Paul
Published by Pauline Books & Media, 50 Saint Paul’s Avenue, Boston, MA 02130-3491
www.pauline.org
Pauline Books & Media is the publishing house of the Daughters of St. Paul, an international congregation of women religious serving the Church with the communications media.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
30 29 28 27 26 25
Dedication
For Kate and Amber, with whom I first entertained theological thoughts of vampires. The two of you encouraged me in my writing more than anyone except Jesus. Thank you. I love you.
And for Celine. We only met once, but your love for our Pauline YA books inspired me to make sure there’d be many more in the future. This one’s for you.
Without the assistance of grace, immortality is more of a burden than a blessing.
—Saint Ambrose
Prologue
This is the one who came by water and blood, Jesus Christ, not with the water only but with the water and the blood.
—1 John 5:6
The trouble with vampires is that they don’t seem like they should be real. I mean, what is “undead” anyway? Either you’re dead or you’re alive, right?
Wrong. I’ve met plenty of people who breathe without living, and only a few of them were what we’d usually refer to as vampires. Most of them don’t realize they’re not doing either thing, being dead or alive. Vampires do. They own it, claim their status, give it a new name: undead. Quite fitting, really, since they won’t die a natural death but they won’t live a real life, either, one with mortality that ends in resurrection. No, they choose suspension. An infinite amount of the finite. I think it’s the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.
Of course, the first time I saw this, I didn’t know what I was seeing. I thought they were just normal people—people like you and me who live and then die. But sometimes the things that seem like they shouldn’t be real are real. And once I came to terms with the existence of vampires, there was another revelation just as startling:
Not all vampires are undead.
This is the story of how I, an ordinary, living person, got caught up in a world so far beyond me that, by all accounts, I should have died. But I didn’t. That’s all due to the grace of God and the efforts of one very not-undead vampire whose story needed to be told. He would never do it himself, so you’re stuck with my account. You can believe it or not, but it is true.
Here goes.
Chapter One
And it was night.
—John 13:30
The day Christopher and I unofficially met also happened to be the worst birthday of my life. Not because of him—well, mostly not because of him.
The Crabby Hill Creamery was always crowded during the summer whenever it wasn’t pouring down rain. Sammie haphazardly pulled into an open spot at the park across the street, bemoaning how long the line was as Kay tried to decide what flavor she wanted and Em cooed over the toddlers at the playground. It was all so normal, it made me want to cry because I knew we wouldn’t have many more moments like this.
Tala must have noticed my expression as we were getting out of the car. While the others joined the line snaking down the sidewalk, she took my arm, pulling me aside. “Lizzy, you okay? You’re even quieter than usual.”
I forced a smile, but it came out more like a wince. “Fine. Just…” I wanted to tell her how much I’d miss them all, how much I wished I was in their shoes. But I didn’t want to complain when they were trying to do something nice for me on my birthday, so instead I shook my head lamely, “… fine.”
She gave me a knowing look, pulling her silky black hair into a ponytail—it was muggy that night. “We’re gonna miss you, too, you know. But we’ll all be back for winter break. We can get together then.” She was using her super-cheerful tone, the one she tried to pep Kay up with before tests. It wasn’t quite enough to make me feel less depressed about everything.
“Yeah,” I agreed listlessly, watching a lady walk by with her four tiny terriers so that I didn’t have to meet my best friend’s eyes. “I know, the time will fly by. I can pick up more shifts at the bookstore and keep applying for scholarships. It’ll be great.” My voice was mechanical as I repeated what they’d all told me a dozen times.
Tala frowned. “Lizzy, you know I—”
“You two coming?!” Kay yelled from across the street.
I glanced at my friends already in line, my stomach twisting in dread. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could pretend to be happy tonight. Tala, as usual, read my mind. “We don’t have to do this, Lizzy. I’ll tell them you’re not feeling well, we can just chill at my house. There’s plenty of lumpia in the freezer.”
The thought was tempting, but I shook my head, trying to pull myself together. “No, I’m… I’m fine, I just need a minute. Can you order for me?”
A look of understanding crossed her face and she nodded. “Double chocolate brownie swirl with rainbow sprinkles, hold the fudge?” She rattled off my favorite flavor from memory and I nodded, digging in my pocket for some cash. But she put her hand on my arm. “Lizzy, it’s your birthday. We’re covering you.”
“You don’t have to—”
“You only turn eighteen once, and you didn’t let us do anything big for you. We’re buying you ice cream.”
I knew there was no point in arguing with her when she used that tone, so I just gave her a watery smile. “Thanks.”
She gave me a quick hug, which was a big deal since Tala isn’t a huggy person. Then she stepped back, and I thought her green eyes were teary too. Her voice was light, though. “Don’t take too long, or Sammie will eat all the brownie pieces out of your ice cream.” She would, too—it happened the last time I asked her to hold my cup while I ran to get my phone from the car.
“I won’t,” I promised, turning away before any more memories came back and made me really start crying.
I wiped at my eyes impatiently as I started on the short loop around the playground and baseball field. Why was this so hard? Why would God give me such wonderful friends and then take them away again? Why couldn’t we stay together? And why did my birthday, of all days, have to be the last day all five of us were together? I hated complaining, but it really wasn’t fair.
I wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going, keeping my head down as I passed parents pushing strollers and kids playing tag in the fading light. I felt trapped in my own small world, a world coming apart at the seams. I hated that, hated feeling stuck inside myself with no escape.
Just then, I thought I heard someone call my name. For a second, it sounded like Mom, and I looked up sharply, glancing around. But no one was trying to get my attention, and Mom certainly hadn’t come back from the dead to wish me a happy birthday. There was probably just someone else at the park with the same name as me—it’s not like there weren’t a million other girls named Elizabeth.
I shook my head at myself, about to turn back toward the parking lot. That was when I saw him.
Chapter Two
I loathe my life; I would not live forever.
—Job 7:16
He was sitting alone on a bench, his back to the woods that bordered the park. He couldn’t have been more than a year older than me, with dark hair and strikingly pale skin that made me look bronzed in comparison. He was handsome—Kay probably would have rated him an eight on her “cute guy scale” of one to ten—but that wasn’t what initially drew my attention to him. No, it was the slump of his shoulders, the empty way his hands fell in his lap, the hopelessness in his eyes: it all screamed despair.
I stopped short, startled out of my own problems. I had never met anyone who was actually suicidal, but if you had asked me right then, I would have said for sure he was. The raw pain in his face was more than I had seen even at Mom’s deathbed. Someone—anyone—needed to help him, before it was too late. Was he really all alone?
I didn’t even realize I was staring until he looked up at me. For a heartbeat, his dark eyes met mine, and a strange sensation enveloped me. People were all around us, laughing and playing games and having picnics, but they faded into the background until there was only the two of us left: him and me.
The despair in his expression was quickly replaced by a question, and he straightened, cocking his head to the side. I glanced away quickly, feeling flustered, and took the fork in the path that wouldn’t go past him, trying to pretend like nothing had happened. But I was sure he could see my blush of embarrassment, sure he could tell I’d been watching him. I kicked myself internally as I turned back to the ice cream shop, hoping he didn’t notice how I picked up my pace. Why did I have to make everything awkward? Why couldn’t I have gone up and asked him if he was okay? Was he okay?
Feeling guilty, I hazarded a glance behind me, wondering if I could get Kay or Sammie to go talk to him. But he was gone. Probably weirded out by me staring at him. Not knowing what else I could do, I said a quick Hail Mary for him as I crossed the street, figuring that whatever he was going through, it wouldn’t hurt to add the Blessed Mother’s help.
My friends were waiting by the car when I walked up, Kay and Sammie bickering again. As Tala handed me my already-melting ice cream, Kay grinned. “Oh, good, Lizzy can be the tie-breaker: green or purple?”
“Green or purple what?” I asked warily, knowing better than to answer without context.
“Sammie’s hair, obviously. Don’t you think lime green would make an impression?”
Sammie cut in before I could reply, “I know I’d look good with green, but I’ve been saying since eighth grade that I’m dyeing it purple once I move out. If I do anything else, my dad will think he’s won.”
“Why not do both?” I suggested, my gaze drawn to the park bench where I’d seen that guy. It was still empty.
“Green hair with purple highlights? Or purple hair with green highlights?”
“What about pink highlights?” Em inserted hopefully.
“You know I hate pink,” Sammie grumbled, but I was barely listening to them, scanning the park until Tala jabbed me with her bony elbow.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said a little too quickly, and she gave me a look.
“You haven’t taken one lick of your favorite ice cream and you’re telling me nothing’s wrong?”
I sheepishly ate one of the brownie chunks to appease her, chewing it slowly to give me an excuse not to answer. But Tala knew me too well. She watched me unwaveringly until I finally admitted, “I saw this guy in the park… I’m not sure why, he just caught my eye, but then he saw me looking at him and it was awkward.”
Tala frowned faintly, opening her mouth, but Kay spoke first, perking up as she caught a snippet of what I’d said. “Oh my gosh, Lizzy. Did you just say you noticed a guy? You? Really?” My heart sank. Kay was like a dog with a bone when it came to potential romantic prospects. When she couldn’t find any real possibilities, she invented them out of thin air.
Seeing my dismay, Tala jumped to my defense. “Kay, it’s her birthday. Leave her alone.”
“But this is monumental! Lizzy never talks about boys! Was he cute? What did he look like, what was he wearing?”
“Um…” I wracked my brains, but all I could remember clearly was his face, that hopeless look in his eyes. “I didn’t notice what he was wearing. He had dark eyes, and I think his hair was brown, definitely darker than mine…”
“Curly? Straight? Or the wavy in-between thing your hair does when it’s humid like this?” Sammie teased, and I shifted uncomfortably, tucking a lock of my unruly hair behind my ear. I guess I should have put it up before we left Tala’s.
“I don’t think it was curly. It was short, but not super short, like long enough that it probably could get in his eyes… I really don’t know…” I felt super self-conscious, so I added, “But it’s seriously not a big deal. We just happened to make eye contact when I was walking by. That’s all.”
It wasn’t all, though, because even then I was fighting the urge to look behind me and see if he was still in the park somewhere. I don’t know why I was so worried about him, but it had something to do with that expression I had seen in his eyes. They were the eyes of someone who was desperate, someone who had been pushed to the edge. But the edge of what?
I tried to enjoy the rest of the night, I really did. But when I finally stopped thinking about the guy from the park, I was hit again by the fact that these were my last few hours with my friends. Snacking on homemade lumpia, listening to Sammie and Kay’s never-ending arguments about video games, starting the book Tala had gotten me for my birthday so she could watch my reactions—when would we be together like this again? I was usually the second one to fall asleep during our sleepovers, right after Em, but I forced myself to stay awake as long as I could, savoring every moment.
Hugging everyone goodbye the next morning was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. My one consolation was that I’d see Tala at Mass on Sunday before she had to catch her plane. That was a goodbye I was going to put off as long as I could.
I knew my sister wanted me home before she had to leave for her internship, but I had Sammie wait until the last possible moment to take me back. When I came into our apartment, I could hear Becca rushing around her bedroom, late as usual. “I’m home!” I called, hoping she’d be out the door soon so she wouldn’t see me crying.
“Oh, good! How was the party? Can you get my lunch out of the fridge, it’s on the top shelf,” she replied, pinning her auburn hair into a bun and trying to put her heels on at the same time as she came into the hallway. I went into the kitchen and got her sandwich out, ignoring her first question.
“Isn’t your bus coming in six minutes? You’re going to miss it.”
“They’re usually as late as I am,” she shot back as she narrowly missed bumping into Mom’s china cabinet and grabbed her keys. “Oh, now where did I… Lizzy, have you seen my purse?”
“By the front door,” I answered without needing to look as I added an apple to Becca’s lunch. She always set her purse down in random places, so I’d gotten in the habit of picking it up when I found it somewhere and putting it there. It cut down on about thirty seconds of panic every morning.
“Thank goodness, you’re a lifesaver.” She slung it on her shoulder and took the paper bag I handed her without looking in it. “So you had a good time?”
I gritted my teeth, faking a smile. “Yeah. It was good. A nice last hurrah.”
She thankfully didn’t pick up on the forced cheerfulness in my tone. “That’s nice. You really don’t want the two of us to do anything together for your birthday?”
“I told you it’s not a big deal, don’t worry about it.” Becca was hassled enough between her internship and trying to pay our bills. She barely had time to spend with her boyfriend as it was. I didn’t want her wasting any more trying to take care of me. Besides, the last thing I wanted to do right now was go out with my chatty sister and pretend everything was fine.
“All right,” she said, but now she was staring at me like I was a bug under a microscope. “Are you sure? We could go out to dinner—”
“Becca, you really are going to miss your bus.”
She glanced at the clock on the microwave and her eyes widened. “Oh, shoot, I’m going to have to run. Love you, we’ll talk when I get home.” I didn’t bother telling her that I had to work the late shift at the bookstore and wouldn’t be there when she got home. My schedule was on the fridge; she’d figure it out eventually.
Once the door slammed behind her, I went to lock it—even when she wasn’t in a rush, she forgot every time. Then I stared at the closed door, numb inside. Sometimes it seemed like everyone had places to go and important things to do except me. I should have been grateful to have people in my life who loved me. But even when I was with them, I didn’t quite feel like I fit. What was I doing wrong?
Suddenly, an image of the guy from the park flashed through my mind. He struck me as someone who didn’t fit, either. Did he feel as empty as I did? No… remembering his face, I thought he had to feel worse. There were plenty of people worse off than me; there was no point in getting so upset. I still had good friends, even if they were far away, and I had my sister who loved me. I had a decent-paying job and a place to live, and at least I was going to see Tala at Mass on Sunday. Even if I wouldn’t see her again for months…
I shoved those thoughts away, going to my room and shutting the door. Thinking hurt too much right now, everything hurt too much right now, and I needed to get some real sleep.
Chapter Three
Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come.
—Mark 13:33
It was almost a month before I saw Christopher again. Of course, I still didn’t know that was his name. Technically speaking, at that point it wasn’t.
Becca had insisted that we go to the mall so she could get new winter boots. That was what she said, anyway, but I was pretty sure she was worried about me. She’d finally picked up on how I was purposely arranging my work schedule so that we wouldn’t be home at the same time. It wasn’t that I didn’t love her. I just didn’t feel up to dealing with her when I was missing my friends so much.
Going to the mall together was something of a tradition, though, so I couldn’t say no. When I was around eight and she had just turned sixteen, Mom started letting us go by ourselves. We’d both pick out a chocolate from the fancy chocolatier and walk into every single store just to see what they had. I used to think it was so much fun, but now I found shoe shopping with Becca somewhat akin to purgatory. We still went to the chocolatier, though, and got lucky—there were freshly dipped chocolate-covered strawberries.
We didn’t have much money, but chocolate was the one thing my sister and I could both agree to splurge on. We got half a dozen of the strawberries and split them as we walked back to find the first pair of boots Becca had liked and then not bought because she wanted to “survey her other options.”
Up until then, Becca had been pretty good about not bringing up the fact that everyone but me was finding new and important things to do with their lives. Once she felt I’d been sufficiently appeased with chocolate, however, she broached the subject, her voice deceptively nonchalant. “I saw in the bulletin this morning that Father Stephen is looking for volunteers to help teach religious ed. Have you thought about helping this year? You’re old enough now that you wouldn’t have to be an assistant, you could be the main catechist.”
I shrugged. “I’m not really sure I’m qualified…”
“Oh, come on, Lizzy. With everything Mom taught us and all the books you’ve read, you know more about the faith than most people. Don’t you remember how impressed the ladies were at that Bible study we did last year?”
I couldn’t keep from smiling at the memory. “They were just excited to see someone there under the age of fifty. They fawned over you just as much. That doesn’t mean I’m equipped to deal with a room full of fourth graders.”
“You did fine when you helped me with the kindergartners,” she contended, waving her last chocolate-covered strawberry for emphasis before popping it into her mouth.
“Are you going to help me with the fourth graders?”
She winced as she swallowed. “Well, actually, Miguel invited me to help with the Hispanic ministries this year and I don’t think I’ll have time to do both.”
I raised an eyebrow at the mention of her boyfriend as I handed her a napkin for her chocolate-smeared hands—my own strawberries were long gone. “Becca, I realize the two of you are getting along really well, but you don’t even know Spanish.”
She stood up a little straighter as we walked, frowning. “He estado practicando, Miguel has been helping me. He wants me to meet his abuela when she comes to visit this Christmas.”
“All right, all right.” I grabbed her arm to keep her from colliding with a couple walking the other direction. The mall got crowded on a weekend night, and Becca tended to stop paying attention to her surroundings when she was worked up about something. “You’re practicing your Spanish, that’s great. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to volunteer as a religious ed teacher.”
“Why not? It would be good for you to get out and do something besides work—talk to people, make some new friends.”
“You know I’m trying to save up. And I have friends.”
“That’s why I said new friends. I know you’ve been getting along well with Richelle at the bookstore, but with Tala and everyone being so far away, it would be good if you got more involved…” She kept talking, but I tuned her out, frustrated at how she wasn’t understanding me. A lot of things would be good: it would be good if Mom hadn’t gotten sick, it would be good if we had enough money for me to go to college, it would be good if other people at the parish stepped up so that they weren’t constantly short on volunteers. A lot of things would be good but just weren’t.
Instead of listening to my sister, I turned my focus to the people we were passing: a dad trying to calm down his cranky kiddo, a gaggle of pre-teen girls who had just gotten their ears pierced, an older man with a buzz cut arguing animatedly on his phone, a squat woman carrying so many shopping bags that she looked like she was about to collapse under their weight. I watched them absently, wondering what their stories were, what their lives were like. Better than mine? Worse? Or just different?
Suddenly, a face jumped out at me from the crowd: pale skin, dark hair, dark eyes meeting mine in a look of startled recognition as we passed each other almost too fast for me to register. The guy from the park.
I stopped short, turning around. I was half-ready to say something to him, though I have no idea what. But I couldn’t find him in the steady stream of people. Had I just imagined it?
I nearly jumped out of my skin when something yanked my long ponytail; then I swatted Becca’s hand away. “I told you to stop doing that, I’m not six anymore!”
“Who was that? Someone from school?” If she had seen him, I couldn’t be imagining things. Maybe he had ducked into a shop?
“Uh… not really.” At least he hadn’t looked upset this time. Or maybe he had just disappeared too quickly for me to read anything more in his expression.
“You know him from somewhere else, then? I don’t recognize him from church.” My hackles went up as I realized she was digging for information. My sister could be as bad as Kay when it came to conjecture about boys. I shook my head firmly, hoping to nip any theories in the bud.
“No, we don’t know each other. I just saw him in the park a few weeks ago, that’s all.” I started walking again to prove that it wasn’t a big deal, resisting the urge to glance over my shoulder in the direction he’d gone. He’d definitely recognized me, which meant he probably remembered that awkward encounter in the park too. I hoped he didn’t think I was stalking him or something.
“Are you sure?” Becca asked, a frown knitting her eyebrows.
I feigned a yawn, ignoring her question. “It’s getting late. Can we just get your boots and go home? I’m closing tomorrow at work, so I need a good night’s sleep.”
She sighed, but for once she agreed without arguing. “Okay, Lizzy. If that’s what you want.”
I pretended not to notice the nosy looks Becca was shooting me on the bus ride home, going straight to bed when we finally got back to our apartment. It was easier than trying to explain everything to my sister, easier than hearing another lecture about how I needed to be doing more things. Besides, I really was tired.
For some reason, though, I couldn’t fall asleep. Maybe it was the dark chocolate I’d eaten, or the fact that I was still frustrated at Becca for trying to micro-manage my life. Or maybe it was that guy’s face, which I couldn’t seem to get out of my head. What had he been doing at the mall? Had he been with someone? Where was he now?
I told myself it didn’t matter, that I’d never know and it wasn’t important anyway. But it was important. I couldn’t place my finger on why, but something about him stood out to me, something that made me feel like I was supposed to know him. It was the same feeling I’d gotten when I first met Tala in high school, before we were assigned to be lab partners. I’d felt like I should know her, I wanted to know her, but it still took me a while to work up the courage to talk to her. After we’d become good friends, she revealed that she’d felt the same way. She told me that she had asked God to send her a friend, and that I was the answer to her prayer. “God arranged things for us to meet,” she’d asserted confidently. When I asked her how she knew, she had replied, “I just know.” And I kind of knew, too. It was a gut-feeling that I couldn’t deny.
The same kind of gut-feeling I was getting from this guy. But what was I supposed to do with that?
“Pray.” The answer came at once, this one a memory of my mom smiling at me, wearing her favorite yellow dress. That was her response to everything, good or bad. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, reciting her favorite prayer—the Rosary—in my head until I drifted off. Even with that, though, I was still totally unprepared to encounter him again the next day.
Chapter Four
Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.
—Hebrews 13:2
The bookstore was open until ten, but customers usually started tapering off around eight. That left me free to tidy the shelves, check inventory, and get everything in order so that closing wouldn’t take too long. My two coworkers for the evening were in the back office, Simon placing orders and Richelle doing the receiving for a shipment of kids’ books that had arrived late. As soon as she verified that they’d sent us the right stock, I was the one to shelve the new books and find spots for them on our special displays. I enjoyed that much more than customer service or working the cash register, since I got to see all the new titles as they came in. I’d much rather be reading them than alphabetizing them, though.
I was walking between the bookcases in the children’s section, humming to myself as I made room on the shelves, when I happened to glance up and notice a customer standing in the science section. His back was to me, but he looked familiar, and I realized why when he turned around, his dark eyes intently scanning our sparse selection of non-sci-fi books about space. It was him.
I panicked, stepping behind the closest bookcase and wondering what I should do. Actually, I knew what I should do: he was a customer, and since I was the only one on the floor, I was supposed to greet him and ask if he needed assistance. Wouldn’t that be super awkward, though?
I told myself it wouldn’t be so bad. I was wearing the uniform, khaki pants and a navy polo shirt, so he’d know right away that I worked here. I just had to go up to him and politely rattle off the spiel. It wasn’t a big deal.
I took a deep breath, doing my best to seem natural as I walked over. He noticed me coming and straightened, a few inches taller than my average height. His dark eyes were even more striking up close, so deep brown they were almost black, and I found myself searching them for any sign of the intense emotion I’d seen in him at the park: the horror, the sadness, the hopelessness. All they showed now was polite curiosity. Was he really better? Or just better at hiding things beneath the surface?
“Are you okay?” The question just popped out, the script of what I was supposed to say vanishing under his gaze. He blinked, seeming taken off-guard by the seriousness of my tone, and I kicked myself, backpedaling, “I mean, can I help you? Find something, I mean.” That wasn’t what I was supposed to say either; what was wrong with me? And why did my face always have to turn red in situations like this?
“Thank you, but I’m not searching for anything in particular,” he replied, his voice richer and a little deeper than I was expecting. A slight smile tugged at his lips. Was he laughing at my awkwardness or just being friendly?
“All right, well, let me know if you have any questions,” I said hastily, trying to make a quick retreat. I didn’t know what my problem was. I wasn’t the greatest at talking to boys my own age, but I could usually carry on a normal conversation. Why was this guy flustering me so much?
I was ready to flee the aisle and beg Richelle to replace me on the floor until closing, but before I could back up more than two steps, he spoke again. “I do have one question: Have we met before?” His smile was gone, now, his eyes fixed intently on mine.
I shook my head slowly, guessing what he was referring to. “I don’t think so. I saw you at the mall yesterday, and in Belmont Park that one evening, but I think that was the first time… wasn’t it?”
He tilted his head to the side. “I thought so. But the way you were looking at me in the park… I thought there might be a reason for it.”
I resisted the urge to hide my face in my hands, mortified. So he did think I was some creepy stalker. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to. I mean, I didn’t mean to look at you like I was looking at you for a reason. It was just that when I first saw you on the bench, you looked like you were having a rough night and I was worried, that’s all. I didn’t mean for you to see me.” I snapped my mouth shut before I could say “mean” a fifth time.
“When you first saw me on the bench?” he repeated, placing a slight emphasis on “first.”
I wasn’t really sure what he was asking. “Um… yeah.”
His stiff posture eased, his shoulders relaxing. “I see.” His eyes seemed to measure me as he hesitated about something. Then he shook his head as though to clear it and gave me another smile, one that didn’t quite reach his gaze. “I’ve kept you too long. I think those two ladies would like to check out.”
Startled, I glanced over to see the only other customers waiting by the counter, looking around for an employee. Shoot. “I’m so sorry, I’ll be right back.”
I hurried to the register, forcing myself to focus on the sales transaction—I wasn’t great with numbers, and I tended to mess up the buttons when I was distracted or stressed. Both of which accurately described me right about then.
As soon as the women were happily on their way, I went back to the science section to find it empty. I walked around the rest of the store, but didn’t see him anywhere. How had he slipped out without me noticing?
The disjointed conversation we’d had left me feeling unsettled, making it hard for me to focus the rest of the night. I shelved an entire series in the wrong section before I realized what I was doing, and when Richelle came to help me close, I couldn’t even pretend to return her cheerful banter.
It was half past ten by the time I got out of there, politely declining Richelle’s offer for a ride home. Interacting with everyone at work always tired me out, but that night I especially wanted to be alone with my thoughts. The mild breeze was a welcome reprieve from the muggy, late-summer heat. I breathed it in deeply as I stepped outside, enjoying the way the air felt on my face as it blew the wisps of hair that had escaped my ponytail out of my eyes. It was a pretty long walk from downtown back to the apartment, but I was grateful for that. I’d have more time to unwind before I had to deal with my sister.
There weren’t many people out. I only passed the two ladies who had been shopping at the bookstore earlier. They were walking away from me, down a side street toward a residential area. I noticed they were staggering a little and leaning on each other, the sound of their dizzy laughter carrying down the deserted road. They must have stopped at the bar after they’d left and had one too many. I shook my head, hoping they’d get home safely.
I should have gone the other way when I heard voices arguing at the corner of Stoker and Ninth a minute later, but I was stubborn. I guess I wanted to prove to myself that I didn’t need to change my route just because there were other people on the street. A sense of foreboding prickling at the back of my neck made me pause as I got nearer, though. Something was off.
I slowed as I recognized one of the voices, my eyes widening in surprise. It was the guy from the park. Hadn’t anyone who’d left the bookstore in the last two hours actually gone home?
Curious, I drew back into the shadows, keeping out of sight as I peeked around the corner. There he was in the middle of the intersection, surrounded by four people, three men and a woman. They all seemed older than us, maybe in their mid- or late twenties, wearing dark, nondescript clothes. They were circling him like hungry predators as he stood still and tense, watching them warily.
I thought for a moment I’d stumbled across some sort of gang business. Then their conversation caught my attention and drew me in, completely different from what I was expecting: “—don’t know what you hoped to accomplish, other than to anger us,” the blonde woman who seemed to be in charge was saying calmly. She spoke with a slight British accent, her voice cool and clipped.
“Those two will live because I interrupted you,” the guy from the park replied. If he was afraid, he didn’t show it, his dark eyes revealing nothing as he went on. “If you had taken any more blood, they would have died.”
“Isn’t that part of the fun?” the biggest guy sneered.
The short man next to him snickered, but the woman’s expression remained stony. “If you wish to befriend your food to soothe your pathetic conscience, that is your business.” Her voice dropped threateningly as she took a step toward him. “But do not think that you can interfere with us and escape unscathed.”
She gave a slight nod and suddenly, unbelievably fast, the one who had laughed streaked toward the guy from the park and slammed his leg into his stomach with enough force to break bones. I gasped as the guy from the park fell to his hands and knees, retching up whatever was in his stomach. No—he was bleeding; that was blood dripping from his lips.
That was too much for me. I backed away nervously, dialing 911 like I should have done when they first mentioned blood. After one ring, the dispatcher picked up, her voice blaring in the darkness, “911, what’s your emergency?”
My heart dropped as five sets of eyes turned to me. I remember the woman’s face the most, and the face of the guy from the park, because their expressions were as different as night and day. The woman’s gaze was cold, calculating, and… evil, I don’t know another word to describe it. But the one from the park, still on his knees, met my eyes with surprised horror. He was afraid for me.
I knew I was in trouble, but my feet wouldn’t move. I could only whisper, “Please, help. Stoker and Ninth,” to the person waiting on the other end and hope they arrived in time. I honestly didn’t think they would.
A razor-like smile formed on the woman’s lips. “Well. You already interrupted one meal tonight. Perhaps this time you’ve learned your lesson.”
He staggered to his feet, wiping blood from his mouth. “You don’t need it. Let her go.”
“Let her go? No, I’m afraid that’s out of the question. It’s a matter of principle now.” The woman moved so quickly I barely understood what was happening. One moment she was calmly standing in the middle of the intersection, and the next she was rushing at me full force, an inhuman grimace twisting her expression. But before I could scream, another force slammed into her, knocking me backward as well. My phone flew from my hand, the screen shattering as it hit the curb and I landed painfully on my tailbone, grit from the road embedding itself in my palms.
In shock, I looked over and saw the guy from the park wrestling with the woman not five feet from me, trying to fend off her vicious teeth and nails—nails so long they looked more like claws. The short man was running to intervene, but the biggest guy was watching me, his hungry gray eyes making me shiver. He started toward me with a predatory smile just as a police car came careening out of nowhere, pulling up between us and blocking him from sight. More sirens and flashing lights screeched around the corner a second later.
I dazedly stood up, blinking at the chaos as multiple voices began yelling and car doors slammed. The incessant whine of the sirens hurt my ears, and I couldn’t see what was happening. Then the guy from the park was at my side, grabbing my hand. His low voice was urgent, loud enough to hear over everything else. “Run.”
Chapter Five
If, however, you bite and devour one another, take care that you are not consumed by one another.
—Galatians 5:15
He didn’t wait for my reply, but I did run, ignoring the shouts behind us to follow him down a side street. I had to sprint to keep up with him, but I didn’t dare slow down—I could tell he was still terrified and that it wasn’t the police who scared him.
He dragged me around corners and through narrow alleyways for what felt like an eternity, and even though I was running faster than I ever have in my life, I got the sense that he was impatient at my pace. I had no idea where we were by the time he finally stopped, letting go of my hand and running to the first door he saw, trying to open it. When it was locked, he tried another, then another, and I realized as I fought to catch my breath that he was looking for a place to hide.
There was nothing on the street, nowhere to go; we were in the business district, and it was long after hours. But he didn’t give up, avoiding my questioning gaze as he grabbed my arm and pulled me into a small plaza with some shops on our right, checking for open buildings there. I could feel the tension in him grow as he kept looking behind him, and soon I was watching the street we had come from, too, dreading to see the others. Who were they, anyway? What were they?
My eyes were still fixed on the street corner when I heard a door finally open and he hissed, “Here,” whisking me up a few steps and inside. The solid wooden door closed behind me before I could see where we were, and he locked it quickly.
“Will that hold them?” I panted, fear and adrenaline making my heart beat fast. I could barely see him in the darkness as he shook his head, not looking at me.
Trying not to panic, I turned around, able to see from a streetlamp shining outside that we were in some sort of storage room. Cabinets lined one wall, and a locked safe was in the other next to a sink and a dresser of drawers. There was an old wooden table in the center, and the whole place smelled vaguely of exotic spices, for some reason giving me a strong sense of déjà vu. There was only one other door, and I was closest to it.
“All right,” I said in a business-like tone, surprised I didn’t sound nearly as frightened as I felt. “Can we push the table against the door; would that help? Or maybe there’s a better place to hide through here.” I tried the door, breathing a sigh of relief when the knob moved easily beneath my shaking hand. I opened it a crack and peeked through, just able to make out rows of pews in the darkness and the red glow of a sanctuary lamp directly to my right. Now I knew why the room smelled familiar: we were in the sacristy of a Catholic church.
“This is a church,” I told him in relief, turning around. “There should be plenty of places to hide…” I trailed off as I noticed his expression. He was watching me with wide eyes, standing still as death. It reminded me of how he’d looked in the park before he’d known I was watching him, that strange mix of horror and hopelessness. Something was wrong. But what?
I took a step toward him, half a question on my lips, but he leapt back, putting the table between us. His voice sounded strangled, and there was a rough edge to it. “Don’t—stay away from me. Please.”
He leaned forward, gripping the edge of the table hard enough that it creaked, his teeth flashing sharply as he grimaced. I realized, then, that he was breathing heavily and trembling. He only met my eyes a second longer before he broke my gaze to focus on the grain of the wood in the table, but that was enough to make me understand the problem: he was ravenous. And he was afraid of his own hunger, afraid of what he might do to me.
My eyes widened as several things clicked into place: their razor-sharp teeth, the way the woman had talked about humans as food, the blood he’d vomited when they kicked him. What if that hadn’t been his blood? What if it had already been in his stomach, and he had consumed it from something—or someone—else? I was beginning to think he was one of them. And now his stomach was empty.
My mind recoiled at the idea, but the practical part of me that wanted to survive argued that even if it was impossible, I had to assume it was true, at least for now: I was in the company of a hungry vampire.
“Oh, God…” I whispered, feeling way in over my head. The fear in his eyes, the warning for me to stay away, the way he had tried to protect me from the others… he didn’t want to hurt me. But it wouldn’t matter what he wanted if he couldn’t control his hunger. I would be dead whether he regretted it or not.
I backed away toward the unlocked door behind me. I had to do something. Would he let me run? But if I was separated from him and the other vampires found me, I would be done for. And what if they found him and tried to hurt him again? He was still in danger too. I couldn’t just leave him.
“We need to get out of here,” I said slowly, as though talking down a wild animal, placing one hand on the doorknob. I couldn’t keep my voice from quivering, though, feeling like I was walking on very thin ice. “They’re coming, and you said the outside door wouldn’t hold. We can find a place to hide in the church.”
He closed his eyes tightly, speaking in a strained whisper. “I can’t… consecrated ground…”
I scrambled to recall everything I knew about vampires—which was really only what I’d picked up from Tala and Em when they fangirled about books at lunch. Did being on holy ground kill vampires? Or did they just not like it?
Still, the fact that he’d answered gave me the courage to swing open the door to the church, standing in the threshold. “It will only be for a few minutes, just long enough to hide,” I begged him, somehow certain that his odds would be better with God than with those others. After all, didn’t vampires’ aversion to holy ground stem from the fact that they were supposedly evil and soulless? This guy didn’t seem so evil—he had tried to protect me.
“I can’t… I’m sorry,” he said again, but something in his voice was different. It was full of pained regret. A shudder ran through his body, and he groaned as he gripped his forearm hard, nails biting into his deathly pale skin. Then I understood. He wasn’t apologizing for not being able to enter the church. He was apologizing for what he was about to do to me.
“Get away,” he choked out through clenched teeth, the veins in his neck standing out like cords. His dark eyes met mine for a split second, filled with a pleading despair so deep it made my breath catch. But before I could heed his warning, that familiar look of helplessness vanished. In its place was an overpowering hunger, dangerous and insatiable.
“Jesus,” I whispered the prayer, my panicked thoughts racing. Was there even a point in running? He wasn’t as thickly built as the big vampire, but he was definitely stronger and faster than me. No one knew I was here. I doubted anyone would even hear if I called for help. The sacristan would find my body the next morning drained of blood and my sister would never know what really happened to me.
Then another thought cut in, derailing all the others: The church. Seek shelter in the church. The quiet voice was calm and sure, nothing like my own feverish thoughts, reminding me of Mom. As I turned my attention to it, I became aware of another presence, this one behind me: peaceful, strong, safe, inviting me in. The Eucharist was there, Jesus was there. And he was the only refuge I had left.
With a pounding heart, I backed into the main body of the church, letting that divine presence envelop me. The streetlamps shining through the stained glass cast strange shadows on the polished floor, but I kept my eyes fixed on the vampire in front of me, wondering what he would do now that I was on consecrated ground.
For a few seconds he stood frozen, his starving eyes following my every movement. I started to hope it had worked, that I was safe. Then he launched toward me, leaping over the table and charging through the doorway. I didn’t even have time to scream before he slammed into me, knocking me painfully to the stone floor, his weight crushing me so I couldn’t breathe.
I whimpered and squeezed my eyes shut, expecting to feel his teeth in my neck any second. But there was nothing. I remained paralyzed, sure it was coming. But several more seconds passed, and he still didn’t move a muscle.
I opened my eyes to see his face hovering above mine. But the animal hunger from before was gone, replaced with a startled look that seemed all too human. “What… ?” Then his dark eyes widened as he remembered himself and realized he was still pinning me down. He hastily got off me, his expression turning to horrified concern. “I am so sorry. Are you all right?” Did that mean he wasn’t going to attack? It seemed like he had regained control of himself. But how? Was I really safe?
