She considered that, looking down at herself, then back at them. Well, it was obvious, wasn’t it? “I’m not.”
“What do you mean?”
She met Kat’s eyes, and Kat took a step back.
“Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you.” Then she added, “Unless you run.”
She fixed her gaze on Drew. “I’m hungry,” she said. “I need you.”
Drew turned adorably pink and exchanged a look of alarm with Kat. “But you said . . .”
“Stop talking.”
His mouth snapped shut.
“Come to me.”
He was about to protest, but she took careful hold of his mind and brought him into the room, walking like a dreamer toward her. She let go enough that he could talk, wondering if he wanted to run, but to her surprise, he didn’t. She released his mind completely, and he stayed where he was.
Kat made a faint mewling sound of horror, but Drew said, “It’s okay, Kat. She’s not going to hurt me. Are you, Mira?”
“Of course not,” Miranda replied, cupping his face in her hand, then tilting his head to the side. “You have something I need, Drew. I know you want to help me.”
“I do. I’m your friend. So is Kat. We’d do anything for you.”
“I know . . . and I promise I’ll never ask again.”
She leaned into him, inhaling deeply of the warmth and pulsating life before her. She nuzzled his neck, earning a groan, and studied the veins for a moment, trying to choose a place that wouldn’t injure him. The veins branched like a tree, and she knew not to open the trunk.
The smell of him drove her hunger to a fever pitch, and she sighed against his skin, feeling the delicious itch of her teeth sliding down over her lip.
He didn’t flinch when she bit down, or when she sucked. Even without the influence of her power he was willing.
She whimpered and held on to him, drinking deeply, the taste assailing her senses as the need began to fade one swallow at a time. She felt his heartbeat wild against her breast, and as her own began to come into sync with it, she knew by instinct when it was time to stop.
Miranda lifted her mouth and let him go. He slipped silently to the floor at her feet.
She licked her lips, almost drunk with heady satisfaction. Her teeth withdrew to a more manageable length.
Kat had shrunk back against the hallway wall. She was crying.
Miranda stepped around Drew, who was breathing hard and trying to conceal his erection by staying on his knees facing away from Kat.
She left the bathroom but stopped beside her friend, who refused to look her in the eye.
“I have to go,” Miranda said. “I’m putting you in danger if I stay here.”
She walked past Kat and through the house. It seemed so small and confining. She craved the freedom of the night air.
“Wait,” she heard, and paused.
Kat hadn’t left the hall, but said through her tears, “Where are you going?”
“I have work to do.”
“Are you . . . are you ever coming back?”
Miranda smiled. She knew what Kat meant. “No,” she said. “But I will see you again.”
With that, she walked out the duplex door, leaving the mortal world behind her.
Nineteen
It was going to be difficult to mount an assault on the enemy without shoes.
The full moon already hung in the sky, and she knew there was no time to waste, but there were things she needed: one, shoes; two, weapons; and three, some kind of plan.
A slightly less trailer-park outfit might be nice, too.
She tried to remember what part of town she was in. There was a bus route a block away that would take her close to where she needed to go, but she didn’t have any bus fare . . .
She laughed to herself. Money was not going to be a problem.
When the bus pulled over, she stepped up into it, surveying the other passengers and deeming them harmless. The bus driver cleared her throat and nodded at the fare box.
“I have a pass,” Miranda said, and bent her mind toward the driver’s.
It was almost too easy. “Oh, okay,” the driver said. “Sit down.”
Miranda took the only free seat, one in the middle. The minds of the others started to lean on hers, but she added more energy to her shields and it was quiet in her mind again. There had been a time when such a simple act would have exhausted her or at least given her a migraine. Now it was as effortless as breathing.
As the bus bounced and rattled, she looked around at the humans traveling with her and felt the stirrings of pity. They were so sad. Some were homeless, and others were just as lost even though they had someplace to go. Perhaps three were genuinely happy and lived with purpose and passion. She had been one of the others, once. She had been a wanderer with a homeless heart.
Now what was she?
She would know tonight, once and for all.
A couple of the humans were staring at her, and she couldn’t blame them, really. Without knowing it they saw her kind every night, but probably never this close, and probably never someone so new to the shadows, her fledgling power mantling around her like the still-wet wings of an infant butterfly.
She knew that this, too, would change. She was already starting to feel a bit more grounded, her true personality settling back a few thoughts at a time. She reviewed her memory of the last few days and was relieved she hadn’t caused more damage—she could have killed Drew, or Kat, or both. The sheer horror on Kat’s face had been heartbreaking . . . but it could have been worse.
She needed to call Kat as soon as this was over. Kat might never speak to her again, but she owed her friend an explanation, and a long one. To hell with secrecy. Kat had saved her life. She deserved better than an enigmatic farewell and her boyfriend left on the floor with a raging hard-on.
Although that had been kind of funny, now that she thought about it.
Miranda leaned her head forward on the back of the next seat. She was still tired. She felt like she could sleep for a week . . . but not yet. There were miles to go.
“You okay there, young lady?”
She lifted her gaze to the grizzled old man across the aisle. “Yes, sir. I’ve just . . . had a long day.”
“I know what you mean.” He was reading a newspaper, something she’d never been able to do in a moving vehicle, and nodded down at the headline: AUSTIN GANG VIOLENCE ESCALATES. “World’s getting scarier, isn’t it? People burning down buildings, gangs . . . Wasn’t that long ago Austin was a safe place to let your kids play outside.”
“It will be again,” Miranda said, sitting up. “I’ll make sure of it.”
He gave a gap-toothed grin. “That’s right,” he said. “It’s up to you young people now. My generation’s on the front porch these days, and that’s where we should be. You get out there and change the world.”
Miranda smiled at him. “I plan to.”
The bus let her off slightly west of her destination, so she walked along the road, her eyes roaming around the shabby neighborhood of taco stands, run-down warehouses, and public assistance offices. She felt like a visitor from a foreign land, even though only days ago she had walked these same streets with recognition. Her vision, in the blue-grays of night, picked out colors and shapes she couldn’t before. She passed a dog chained in someone’s yard that stared at her, ears up and eyes wide, trying to decide whether to sound the alarm. She met its eyes, and it backed away, tail down.
A block later she felt a stabbing pain in the bottom of her left foot.
She stopped and lifted her ankle. Her foot was already black from the pavement, but there was a rather large shard of glass sticking out of the middle, oozing blood. She yanked it out and watched, fascinated, as the cut began to close, and within ten seconds it was gone.
She put her foot back down, testing it for soreness, but it was healed. “Wow,” she said out loud.
Suddenly dizzy with the reality of it, she sought out a nearby tree and leaned on it for a minute. Oh Jesus. I’m . . .
I’m a vampire.
She would never see the sun again unless she wanted to die. She’d never see her own reflection again. No children, no pigging out on pizza, no tanning by the lake, no matinees, no Fourth of July barbecues. It was one thing to give those things up in theory, but now . . . now it was done, and there was no undoing. Everything was different now.
She wasn’t human anymore.
She rapped her forehead lightly against the bark. “Later . . . later. Think about it later,” she told herself. “You’ve got to hurry.”
She pushed herself away from the tree and broke into a jog, then into a run.