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The day after their encounter with the vampire, Anthony felt a little off, but blew it off as stress. Stress, like learning that not only do vampires exist, but they are more than happy to kill without a second thought. He’d gone to sleep that night feeling like his skin, especially his scalp and his neck, were crawling, but he woke feeling nothing but a vague nausea. When he peeled the bandages from his face and neck it was to find the skin already closed and the marks from the vampire’s attack barely visible.
When the light filtering in through the blinds started to give him a headache, he figured it was another of his migraines and called out from work. Taking some of his medication, he drew the curtains in the bedroom and went to sleep with the cat curled up warm beside him instead of Bri.
And then he woke again. He had no idea what time it was, but it was dark outside. His blood was on fire. It was as if he was boiling from the inside out, but at the same time, when he tossed aside the covers, he started shivering so badly that he had to scramble after them. He curled under the covers, in agony from the migraine and the fever. When the big Maine Coon sniffed at him and he could hear her heartbeat echoing in his head as if it was trying to shatter him, he knew something was wrong. His stomach cramped, and his moan of pain scared her away.
When Brianna got home from work later that night, it was to find Anthony curled on the kitchen floor with the refrigerator door wide open and the contents ransacked. The stew meat she’d been saving for soup had been ripped open, but he’d vomited up most of what he ate. The water was running, and the vomit in the sink was mixed with blood. Her gasp woke him up, and she had to stifle a startled scream when she saw his eyes. Bright red, glinting faintly in the light from the refrigerator. When he coughed, she could see long fangs.
He moaned. “Bri? Jesus, Bri, I don’t feel right.” It sounded like him, and for a moment she almost rushed to him, fangs or no fangs, but then his eyes locked on her and she stood stock still. “So hungry, Bri. What’s going on?” His voice sounded unsure, but his eyes had lost everything that made them human. He tensed, and she could feel her pulse begin to race. His nose flared, and he cocked his head as if he could hear it.
She bit her lip and took a deep breath. She wanted to tell him. She wanted to help him. But with him looking at her like that, all she could do was back away. “I don’t know, baby. But I’m going to find someone who does. Stay here, okay?”
He shook his head, as if clearing it, and settled back down to the kitchen floor, moaning. “Yeah, okay. Hurry up, Bri baby? God, this is gonna kill me.”
She blinked away tears as she backed away, only daring to turn her back when she was within reach of the door. She locked the apartment door behind her and ran to her car.
She needed her grandfather.
When the light filtering in through the blinds started to give him a headache, he figured it was another of his migraines and called out from work. Taking some of his medication, he drew the curtains in the bedroom and went to sleep with the cat curled up warm beside him instead of Bri.
And then he woke again. He had no idea what time it was, but it was dark outside. His blood was on fire. It was as if he was boiling from the inside out, but at the same time, when he tossed aside the covers, he started shivering so badly that he had to scramble after them. He curled under the covers, in agony from the migraine and the fever. When the big Maine Coon sniffed at him and he could hear her heartbeat echoing in his head as if it was trying to shatter him, he knew something was wrong. His stomach cramped, and his moan of pain scared her away.
When Brianna got home from work later that night, it was to find Anthony curled on the kitchen floor with the refrigerator door wide open and the contents ransacked. The stew meat she’d been saving for soup had been ripped open, but he’d vomited up most of what he ate. The water was running, and the vomit in the sink was mixed with blood. Her gasp woke him up, and she had to stifle a startled scream when she saw his eyes. Bright red, glinting faintly in the light from the refrigerator. When he coughed, she could see long fangs.
He moaned. “Bri? Jesus, Bri, I don’t feel right.” It sounded like him, and for a moment she almost rushed to him, fangs or no fangs, but then his eyes locked on her and she stood stock still. “So hungry, Bri. What’s going on?” His voice sounded unsure, but his eyes had lost everything that made them human. He tensed, and she could feel her pulse begin to race. His nose flared, and he cocked his head as if he could hear it.
She bit her lip and took a deep breath. She wanted to tell him. She wanted to help him. But with him looking at her like that, all she could do was back away. “I don’t know, baby. But I’m going to find someone who does. Stay here, okay?”
He shook his head, as if clearing it, and settled back down to the kitchen floor, moaning. “Yeah, okay. Hurry up, Bri baby? God, this is gonna kill me.”
She blinked away tears as she backed away, only daring to turn her back when she was within reach of the door. She locked the apartment door behind her and ran to her car.
She needed her grandfather.