Shudder Page 24

  “Foster was a dick,” I said. “He deserved what he got.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Is that how you justify it to yourself, then? You tell yourself that the people you kill deserve it?”

  “All the people I killed today did,” I said.

  “Except poor Emma, of course,” said Bartholomew. “Such a shame.”

  I winced. “Screw you. You never cared about Emma.”

  “Well, I wasn’t going to kill her,” said Bartholomew.

  “What you did was worse.”

  “Was it? Was it really?” He smiled. “You know, I’ve never liked death. I’ve devoted my entire life to keeping my sweet Anita alive. I couldn’t bear to see her go. We met sometime in 1810. She was wasting away from consumption, and I made it my life’s work to find something to cure her. I was successful.”

  “There’s no reason to live that long,” I said. “It’s obscene.”

  “Perhaps,” said Bartholomew. “But if you’ve ever been in love, you understand. You’d not let your Jason die if you could help it, I don’t think.”

  “You’ve got to stay alive too, though, I suppose.”

  “Well, she’d be heartbroken if I died. Leaving her alone isn’t exactly a loving thing to do.”

  I laughed. “Try and make it about love all you want, Bartholomew. But you run a business here. You steal blood and keep people captive for money. You’re disgusting.”

  “We can’t very well live comfortably without money, can we?” he said. “It really is all for her, you see.”

  “So, that’s how you justify it to yourself? Love?”

  He leaned close. “I don’t kill people, my dear. It’s you who does that. But you’ve decided that I deserve to live less than you do.” He shrugged. “Frankly, I’m not sure you have the moral high ground here.”

  My cell phone rang again. Bartholomew picked it up. “Hello? Oh, hello, darling... Well, if you think it would be best.” He held the phone up to my mouth. “Say something. Reassure Jason that you’re okay.”

  “Jason?” I said. “Just keep the others out. I’ll die anyway when the blood wears off.”

  Bartholomew snatched the phone back. “Will that do, then?... Wonderful. And you’re quite sure he’s unarmed?... Then I shall see you momentarily.” He set the phone back down. He smiled at me. “Well, things seem to be moving along rather nicely.”

  * * *

  Anita led Jason into the control room. She had a gun to his head.

  “Boone and Jude?” I said to him, the minute our eyes met.

  “They called me the minute they knew you were compromised,” he said. “They’re out of it. Don’t worry.”

  Bartholomew laughed. “It’s really so touching that you’re worried about the others. But don’t you think they’ll rush in after you eventually?”

  Anita pressed the gun firmly against Jason’s head. “When they do, we’ll be waiting for them.”

  Jason was looking me over. “You okay? Did they hurt you?”

  “Lots of times,” I said. “But I healed.”

  He turned to Anita. “You have me now. Let her go.”

  Anita shook her head. “Your blood first.”

  Jason held out his arm. “Stick me with a needle then.”

  “Oh, we’re running out of time,” said Anita. “I think we’ll need a quicker taste.”

  “Jason, don’t do it,” I said. “If you wait, they’ll die. They need the blood to live.”

  Bartholomew had a knife. He handed it to Anita, who made long slashes in Jason’s arms.

  The two dropped to their knees immediately, lapping at the blood.

  But there was something wrong with it, I realized. I didn’t notice it right away. The smell hit my nostrils, and I was carried away by a wave of desire. But in the next moment, I realized that it didn’t smell quite right.

  Bartholomew and Anita realized it at the same time.

  They drew back, spitting out the blood.

  “He’s contaminated himself with that dreadful herb,” said Bartholomew.

  Anita slashed at Jason with the knife, but he caught her hand and drove a fist into her face.

  She shrieked.

  Bartholomew leapt on Jason, and the two crashed into a row of blank monitors. Glass shattered.

  Anita howled. She darted across the room and snagged my gun. The one with the herb loaded into it. She began pulling the trigger again and again, but her shots weren’t well aimed. I could see that her face was growing lined and old before my eyes. It was as if someone was draining her, making her shrivel.

  Jason’s contaminated blood was killing them.

  And then one of Anita’s shots hit me. I was punched back in my chair, and pain screamed from my neck. I was awash in blood.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Jason threw Bartholomew off of him. The man was nothing more than a sack of bones at this point. His hair had gone white, and it was falling off in big clumps. He clawed his way across the room to Anita, gathering her in his arms. “My darling.” His voice was like sandpaper.

  She clung to him. “I love you,” she rasped.

  His lips met hers.

  I had my hand at my neck. Blood was pouring through my fingers. It was such a hot gush, like bath water.

  Bartholomew clutched Anita close, but he was falling apart, literally. His face had started to cave in.

  She gazed at him, her eyes going dull. Her skin was cracking, like it was made of dried clay, and it had baked too long. “My love. My only love.”

  “My darling,” said Bartholomew. His jaw crumpled as he moved it. It disintegrated right before my eyes.

  The blood at my neck felt like hot, sticky caramel. So much was coming out.

  Anita and Bartholomew crushed themselves against each other, and they were a puff of air, dirt kicked up in the wind, dust.

  Jason was over me, untying me.

  “The bullet had the herb in it,” I said to him. “I’m not going to heal.” I moved my fingers in front of my face. They were covered in red blood. If I got a chance, I was going to have a heck of a time getting it out from beneath my fingernails.

  He ripped aside the last of my bonds and swung me into his arms. “You just need blood. It healed you last time.” I could see panic in his eyes, and I could also see that he was trying to hide it.

  Jason’s blood was tainted. I couldn’t drink from him or it would kill me.

  “The others are waiting for us,” he said. “Hold on.”

  But I didn’t think I wanted to drink from anyone else. Doing it to Jason was awful enough. “No.”

  Jason’s fingers dug into my waist painfully, he was gripping me so tightly.

  He was rushing down the hall with me. The jostling of his footsteps against the floor seemed to shake the blood out of me in greater quantities. I watched as it dripped on the gray carpet. Blood was pouring out of me.

  “Dammit, Azazel, don’t argue with me,” he said.

  We reached the elevator. The doors were shut.

  “Fuck,” Jason muttered. “I need a key.” He set me down on the floor. My head flopped sideways. I couldn’t hold it up anymore. Blood was all over my arm, soaked deep into my clothes. I couldn’t move anymore. My limbs tumbled down like I was a discarded doll.

  “Don’t,” I said, but it was hard to talk. “Just stay with me. I’m fading, Jason.” I couldn’t move my head, so I was staring at the gray wall, and my head was at an unnatural angle. I could see a crack in the drywall. It was shaped almost like a heart. I was reminded of those movies where the characters are filming themselves. Someone always dropped the camera, and there was a shot of something out of focus and proportion, indicating that things were serious. I felt like a discarded camera.

  He dashed down the hallway, yelling, “Don’t fade.”

  I looked down at my body. I was absolutely covered in blood and more was flowing out, oceans of it. I felt dizzy. I wanted Jason back. I didn’t want to die alone. I always thought we’d die t
ogether. I’d hoped that it would be when we were really old, surrounded by fat grandchildren who were very well adjusted despite everything we were. But I’d always suspected that it might be something like this. A stray gunshot. Something violent and abrupt. I still remembered the way it had felt to hold Jason’s head in my lap when I thought Jude’s bullet had killed him. Now, I wanted to touch him one last time, but I couldn’t even move anymore.

  Then he was back, key in hand. He opened the elevator and picked me up again. My head flopped backward, and I could only see the elevator upside down as he moved us inside. He lifted my head so that he could look into my eyes. “Azazel, you stay with me.”

  “I don’t know if I can,” I said.

  “You can,” he said.

  “Listen, Jason, you have to make sure you know your son. You can’t leave Chance alone. You need—”

  “No,” he said. “You are not giving me your dying requests, Azazel.” His voice was fierce, but I could hear the desperation threaded tight through it. “You talk to me like you’re going to make it through this, because you are.”

  I tried to focus on him. “That was smart, dosing your blood with the herb like that.”

  “I didn’t even know if it would work.”

  “It did. Really well.” I sighed. “I didn’t think you wanted to kill them.”

  He swallowed. “I didn’t. But I did it for you. Now, don’t let me down. Don’t you dare make it so I did it for nothing.” The elevator was opening. Jason rushed out of it, holding me close. “Stay with me, stay with me.”

  “I don’t want to drink anyone else’s blood,” I said. “I don’t want to feel out of control like that again.”

  He was running too fast to answer. I heard him yelling for Jude, panicked agony in his voice.

  Then he was laying me on dark, cool grass. And his face was over me. So were Jude’s and Boone’s.

  “Jason, I don’t want to feel like that again,” I said. There were dark spots at the edge of my vision. I was having a hard time focusing. I could hardly feel the blood rushing out of me anymore, but Jason was smeared all over with it. I could see a huge, dark stain on his shirt. Funny to think that all of that blood had once been inside me, and now it was gone.

  He grabbed my hand. “I didn’t want to kill again. But I won’t let that feeling change you, if you promise not to let killing change me.”

  “I...” I could hardly see him anymore. Everything was getting darker. I felt I was looking through a lens and that it was closing in on me. The world was narrowing to a pinpoint, and that pinpoint was Jason.

  “Promise,” he said.

  “Okay,” I gasped.

  And Jude’s bleeding arm was pressed against my mouth, and I lost myself in the heady sensation of blood. But through it all, I felt Jason’s hand tightly gripping mine, and every time I was afraid I’d teeter off into insanity, he tugged me back.

  * * *

  Back at home, I peeled off my bloody clothes in preparation for a shower. Everyone else had been excited. Boone, Grace, and Jude were still up celebrating. But, even energized with Nephilim blood, I felt bone tired. I was grateful when Jason agreed that we could just go to bed. I tossed my shirt in the trash can. It was so caked with blood that it was ruined. “Well, I guess I’m a vampire now.”

  Jason wrapped his arms around me from behind. “You’re the woman I love. No matter what you do.”

  I twisted to kiss him. “The weirdest shit always happens to us. Satanists. Secret Societies. Magical powers. Witches. Prophetic dreams. The apocalypse. Comas. Now vampires. It’s ridiculous.” I glared at the ceiling. “Is anyone with an actual plan in charge up there?”

  He chuckled. “They’re not really vampires, though. I mean, they drink blood and live forever, but we could totally call them something else.”

  “Like what?”

  He bit his lip. “Let me think about it.” He kissed me. “I’m happy you’re okay.”

  “I’m happy that you’re okay,” I said. “You aren’t leaving again, are you?”

  He shook his head. “I have trouble listening to you sometimes.”

  “Try all the time.”

  “It’s only that I’m never sure. Sometimes it seems like you’d forgive me anything, but deep down, I know there’s a line. I don’t want to cross it.”

  “I won’t let you,” I said. “That’s what I promised, right?”

  “And I won’t let you cross any lines either.” He caressed my cheek. “The two of us together can do pretty much anything, you realize that?”

  I grinned. “You know what I want to do right now?”

  “What?”

  “Wash this blood off of me.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I could be helpful in that regard. I would love to scrub every inch of your body.”

  * * *

  We slept late, so by the time we got up, Hallam and Marlena were at work. Chance was at school. Mina had taken Kenya to a play date. We learned all of this from Boone, who had been up all night. He had taken over the kitchen table with his computers.

  “You guys want some coffee?” said Boone. “I’m making some more.”

  That at least explained his jittery manner and the fact he was talking a mile a minute.

  “Um, sure,” I said, sitting down at the table. “But don’t you think you should take a break?”

  Jason sat down next to me. “The vampires are dead. You guys got revenge. You should get some sleep.”

  Boone filled the coffee pot with water from the tap. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

  “You should, though,” I said. “Because before long, I’m going to insist that you and Grace go back to school.”

  He shook his head, pouring the water into the coffee maker. “No, no. School is out of the question. See, I spent all night on the anonymity network, checking stuff out.”

  “I know you think that you’ve missed too much,” I said, “but you really do need a high school education. It’s important.”

  “Screw school.” He dumped heaping piles of grounds into the coffee maker. He turned to face us. “The vampires are not all dead.”

  “They are,” said Jason. “We went through the whole place last night, remember? Nothing but bodies.”

  “No, no, I know that those vampires are dead,” said Boone. “But all of the vampires in the world? Not even close. First we have all of the people who were ordering blood from that place. It’s impossible to know who they were. There’s too much encryption. That’s why it’s called an anonymity network. But they’re out there.”

  “We cut off their blood supply,” I said. “They’ll die eventually.”

  Boone shook his head. He flipped his laptop around so that it was facing me. “We didn’t cut off anything. There’s a competitor .” He tapped the screen.

  I leaned in to look at the page. It was blood red, and it said something about selling the liquid of life or something.

  Boone turned the computer back around. “These guys are out there. And the Nephilim we freed last night? We left them at shelters. We gave them money. But they’re going to be easy pickings. These other vampires might even be looking for them.”

  “There wasn’t enough room for all the Nephilim in the house,” I said. “Do you think I should have done more?”

  “I think we all need to do more,” said Boone. “I think we need to take down this group of vampires as well.”

  Jason rubbed his face. “More killing, huh?”

  “We don’t have to kill them,” said Boone. “We can rehabilitate them. Get them off the blood.”

  “What if they’re already dead?” I said.

  “Well, then, they should be dead anyway,” said Boone.

  I pointed at myself. “I’m already dead.”

  “That’s different,” said Boone.

  “Where are we going to rehabilitate them?” said Jason. “Here?”

  “No,” said Boone. “But that empty office building with all the lockable rooms and ca
meras? The one that no one is currently using? That might be a really excellent place to rehabilitate them.”

  Jason and I exchanged a look.

  “Oh, come on,” said Boone. “Say you’ll think about it, anyway. Jude’s on board. Grace too. They totally want to do it. We just need you guys. You’re the muscle.”

  “I don’t know, Boone,” I said. “We’re going to set ourselves up as... professional vampire hunters?”

  “Well, it’s not like you guys have jobs or anything,” said Boone. “I haven’t known you a real long time, but I’ve got the feeling that you guys get pretty bored when there aren’t people around to fight.”

  He had a point. Jason and I seemed to get along a lot better when we were busy.

  “This isn’t about killing a bunch of people?” said Jason.

  “Nope,” said Boone. “So you’ll think about it?”

  I bit my lip.

  Jason ran his fingers through his hair.

  * * *

  Jason dug his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. He’d been doing that every five seconds ever since we got out there. He jammed it back away and cast an anxious glance up at the sky. “Remind me why I’m doing this?”

  “Because you have to do it eventually,” I said. “And because he wants to see you.”

  He nodded. “Right. Right.” He took a deep breath. He turned to me. “What if I screw him up?”

  “What if you don’t?” I said. “You can’t do a worse job than either of our sets of parents did, can you?”

  “Yeah. I guess not.” He dug his phone out again. “Should the bus be here by now?”

  I grabbed his hand. “You’re going to be fine, okay?”

  “I know nothing about kids,” he said. “Nothing.”

  “That’s okay. Just ask him questions. Be interested in him. That’s all it takes.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t believe I talked myself into this. I can’t believe it.”

  I leaned against him. “I can. I always knew you were going to step up and do the right thing. Much as you don’t want to admit it to yourself, you’re a pretty good guy.”

  “Don’t leave me, though, right?”

  “I won’t,” I said. “I’ll be here. I promised I would.”