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I passed my camera in our backyard and bent down to pick it up, just to discover my hand didn’t respond to the command to move. Instead, I reached with my left hand and grabbed the strap, carefully looping it over my neck and continuing the rest of the way to the house.

There was a grey van parked in front I didn’t recognize. Was it Demetrius’? Had he managed to get to his car and drive it back down here?

Shit, was Mike okay?

I hurried, loping unevenly to the front door and shoved it open with my good hand.

Mike blinked, stupified from the table. Across from him, Blacke had been chatting with a cup of tea firmly place between his hands but now had his mouth half open, partway through an incomplete thought.

I blinked back at them. “Oh,” I said. “I didn’t realize you guys were friends.”

Mike stood, his chair screeching against the wood floor and he forced himself around the tight bend that connected the living room, dining room, and foyer.

He dropped to his knees as I realized my face was against the ground.

Blacke lurked behind him, looking in horrified excitement at the blood still covering my forearm… actually, I realized from the smears all around me now that Mike was trying to get me upright again, I was covered in blood from head to foot. Every inch either tainted with it or weeping a fresh supply.

“LEXI!!” Mike shook me gently and my focus came back to him. “What the hell happened?”

“I… went out the window,” I said, noticing a sizable chip of glass buried in my hand. I started to try digging it out with my finger.

Mike turned to Blacke. “Call the police, dude!” he snapped, as if it was an obvious task.

“Uh–” Blacke was taken off guard, his eyes staring down at the blood everywhere with a twisted fascination I couldn’t blame him for. “Phone,” he managed. “I don’t–”

“The counter,” Mike waved him in the direction of the kitchen.

Blacke disappeared around the corner.

“Lexi, try to stay awake, okay?” Mike had started to put pressure somewhere. “The medics’ll get you taken care of, all the pain’s gonna go away.”

“I think… I’m fine,” I said. “It’s just a little blood.” That bit of glass in my hand refused to budge, a well of dark, almost purple blood trying to push out beneath it.

Mike let out an exasperated sound. “I think you’re in shock, Lexi,” he said. He pulled me into a hug. “You’re gonna be okay.”

I leaned my head back against the wall, feeling like I should take a good nap, but it was too cold. And Blacke reappeared, phone in hand, trying to explain to an operator that they needed an ambulance but he didn’t know why and kept stumbling trying to explain himself. It was clear he had never thought of someone dying after being attacked as needing medical assistance. At least, not in a very long time.

I wouldn’t remember much from the time between then and dozing off in the hospital bed, but there were bits and pieces present. A medic shined a light in my eye, announcing I had a concussion. Mike held my hand as they lifted me into an ambulance, my neck braced to avoid any more trauma. They cut away some of my favorite clothes and started to access my arm, which I hadn’t even realized had a second elbow and wouldn’t straighten out with gentle prodding.

There was also an awareness of Scarlet staring at me leaving from the doorway, the sheets from my bed pulled over her head in a makeshift hood to block away the sunlight while her brother tugged at his sleeves to similarly hide from their natural enemy.

Mike didn’t leave my side the entire time. Police sirens approached and then Scarlet and Blacke were gone, vanished from the scene while Mom was dazedly getting herself up and questioning one of the medics who was rushing to get the ambulance moving.

Then she ran into the back of the ambulance right before the doors thudded shut and sat next to Mike on the little bench.

I blinked uneasily as the medics were still going through that controlled panic that only emergency responders could understand.

Tears slid down my cheek, and I wondered if I was about to die. I wondered if the mask they gently put over my mouth would be the last thing I saw and desperately wished I could at least say goodbye.

And then I was blinking awake again in the hospital. It was as incredibly generic of a hospital scene as I could imagine, white sheets, barely off-white walls, the monitors hooked up to me and a pale blue curtain dividing my section of the room from another patient’s.

I picked up my good hand, seeing a finger monitor clamped onto my index finger. An IV was feeding me something with a slow drip.

The burning started under my skin. Pain? Not quite. I had that obtuse feeling that comes when severe pain is being numbed by an absurd number of painkillers.

Mike woke up at the sound of my finger monitor’s cord rubbing against the side of the bed and he leaned forward in the chair, relieved to see me finally taking in my surroundings.

“Hey,” he said gently.

I reached up to rub at my eyes but found my other arm encased in a heavy plastic thing.

“Hey,” I managed. My voice was hoarse.

“Are you doing okay?” he asked. “Is there anything I can get you?”

I hadn’t had time to think about it. I looked down where the hospital gown loosely covered dozens of dressed injuries.

“I’m okay,” I managed. “I’m alive, at least.” My good hand trembled gently as I moved it.

With a start, I tried to sit up, remembering Demetrius was out there and he could find me here if I wasn’t careful and—

Mike pushed me back down and glanced up where Officer LeBlanc was passed out in a chair next to him. He was in his uniform and the radio chattered quietly every once in a while.

“You’re safe,” he said. “They’re gonna want to talk to you—again— once you’re able to stay awake.”

“I am awake,” I mumbled. I did feel tired, but not enough I couldn’t answer questions.

“You’ve told me that three times now, and each time you’ve gone back to sleep within a couple minutes.”

I frowned. “I don’t remember…” I said. 

He let out a sigh. “I know.”

His face was grim. With a glance behind him at LeBlanc, he leaned in and dropped his voice lower. “What the hell happened to you?” he asked.

“Uh…” I didn’t have a story, and shouldn’t’ve needed one but it would be difficult to explain the vampire shenanigans. “I think… this dude tried to murder me.”

Mike leaned in closer. “The police went to the asylum to look for the guy,” he explained. “They thought maybe you tried to kill yourself but they found…” he trailed off. “I don’t know exactly, but they said they were going to be investigating this as an attempted homicide.”

“Right,” I said. My blood probably led straight to that window from that dark room.

A shiver ran through my entire body at the memory.

Officer LeBlanc started a gentle snore, which quickly evolved into a snort. He woke up, rubbing at his face, then saw Mike next to me, patiently holding my hand as I sat there.

“Lexi,” he said, standing clumsily and nearly stumbling to my side. “You’re awake,” he said.

I nodded, quietly. There was a quiet understanding between us that he had fought tooth and claw to be the one to watch my bed until I woke up. Conflicts of interest be damned.

Mike sat back as LeBlanc radioed in that I was awake and would be available for questioning soon. Apparently the nurse had taken away the sleepy drugs a while ago, making me wish I could go back on them so I could avoid the long interrogation by the police again.

Two new officers, vaguely familiar from my days spent passing through the visitor friendly parts of the police station came to take my statement, having Mike and LeBlanc and eventually, Mom, whenever she came back from wherever she’d been, stay outside the room and beyond my view as they asked me their questions. I answered as truthfully as I could, but faltered when they asked if I knew Demetrius.

I felt the color drain from my face as they looked at each other and both took note of my reaction.

After I’d run through the entire story, only leaving out that Demetrius had sharp teeth and bloodthirsty eyes, they stuck around to polish up their notes and asked a few more questions, fishing to see if I actually did know Demetrius and how, but I couldn’t give them any answers one way or the other. So they left me be and I was surprised at how differently I was treated when I was a victim rather than a suspect. There was no doubt they’d be back and be in more of an interrogation mood later, but for now I was free to relax.

Mike came back with Mom, and LeBlanc took his seat off to the side again, looking bored but stressed at the same time. Mom held my hand this time around. She looked like she’d been sobbing for a long time and I reassured her I was okay. She shook her head and then buried her face into the sheets next to me and started crying again.

I couldn’t hug her back so I awkwardly patted her head, just to get my monitor cord tangled in her hair until Mike had to help us get free.

14