“No.”
Megan took a deep breath. She didn’t have a lot of money saved. For that matter, neither did Shirl. “How much do you want?”
His gaze swept across her lips. “A kiss and a taste,” he murmured. “One kiss, one taste, freely given.”
Revulsion and anticipation warred within her as she stared into his eyes. For Shirl, she thought. You can do this for Shirl.
“Stop lying to yourself,” he said, a hint of anger in his voice. “It’s what you want.”
“One kiss,” she murmured. What could it hurt? Rising on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his.
He quickly took control of the kiss, his tongue sweeping across her lips, his mouth devouring hers as if he were a starving man and she his only hope of survival. She closed her eyes, her arms slipping around his waist, holding on for dear life as he deepened the kiss. A kiss that seemed to last forever, and ended all too soon.
For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She could only stand there, looking up at him, her heart aching for what was lost. And then, with a hand that trembled only a little, she pushed her hair behind her ear.
“One taste, freely given,” she whispered tremulously, and closed her eyes.
He murmured her name, his tongue hot against her skin, unleashing a thrill of anticipation. She felt the gentle, teasing scrape of his fangs along the side of her neck, and then his bite, and then a rush of heat that left her gasping with sensual pleasure. Warmth spread through her whole body, settling deep in the core of her being. She pressed her body against his, driven by an almost desperate urge to be closer, to feel his skin against her own, to give him everything she had to give.
She was surprised by an unexpected spark of jealousy when she thought of Rhys’s biting Shirl, giving her the same pleasure.
She couldn’t stifle the soft moan that rose in her throat as he drank from her, or the soft cry of protest when he lifted his head.
Confused and on the verge of tears, she twisted out of his embrace and ran out of the office, a sharp stab of regret twisting her insides when he made no move to stop her.
Chapter 24
Shirl was asleep on the sofa, her cheek pillowed on her hand, when Megan returned home. For a moment, she stared down at her best friend, trying to imagine Shirl as a blood-sucking creature of the night, but she simply couldn’t do it. Shirl hated the sight of blood, especially her own. She was afraid of the dark and slept with a night-light. Hardly vampire material.
With a sigh, Megan went upstairs to get ready for bed. In the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror, she tried to put herself in Shirl’s place. What if she were dying? Would she grasp at a chance—any chance—to stay alive, no matter what it entailed? Would she do it even if it meant giving up everything she knew and loved and surviving on the blood of others? Would she be willing to take a life to save her own?
For the first time, she wondered how many lives Rhys had taken during his years of existence? How often did he have to…She frowned. Did he call it eating? Drinking? Where did he spend the day? Did he sleep in a coffin? How long had he been a vampire? Were there other vampires in LA? And if so, how many?
She thought about what she had read on the Web. Did garlic really repel vampires? What about holy water and crosses? Could he turn into a bat? Why would he want to?
Feeling a headache coming on, she pressed her fingertips to her temples.
“Forget about Rhys,” she muttered. “What are you going to do with a roommate who’s a vampire?”
In the morning, over breakfast, Megan tried yet again to talk some sense into her friend, but to no avail. Shirl’s mind was made up.
Megan took a deep breath. She had only one argument left. “Have you thought about the blood thing? Really thought about it? About what you’ll have to do to get it?”
“Of course I have.”
“And you don’t have a problem with that? You’re telling me you could kill someone for their blood?”
“Vampires don’t have to kill,” Shirl retorted, a sharp edge to her voice. “Give it up, Megan. I’ve made my decision.” She paused a moment, then said, “I’m sorry, Meggie. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I know you don’t approve.”
“It’s your life,” Megan said quietly. “Your decision. I just hope you don’t regret it.”
Megan was too nervous to go to work that night. She called Mr. Parker to let him know she needed to take another day off, and then spent the morning and early afternoon cleaning the house while Shirl slept. She mopped the floors, dusted the furniture, cleaned the bathrooms, scrubbed the toilets, did the laundry, even baked a cake she was too upset to eat.
She had hoped keeping busy would take her mind off Shirl’s decision. It didn’t, of course. While cleaning the mirror, she wondered how Shirl would feel when she could no longer look at her reflection and see how beautiful she was. When she took the cake out of the oven, it reminded her that Shirl’s birthday was next month, but if Shirl went through with her insane plan, they wouldn’t be celebrating Shirl’s birthday with her favorite fudge marble cake and chocolate ice cream.
How did one become a vampire, anyway? Was being bitten the only way?
After turning off the oven, Megan sat down at the computer, went to Google, and typed in “how to become a vampire.” As always, she was amazed at the number of Web pages that turned up.
According to one site, there were three ways to become a vampire: you were born that way; another vampire bit you and turned you into one of the Undead; or it happened after you died. She frowned as she read about the last way, wondering if anyone had ever really believed anything so farfetched. For instance, in some places it was believed that if a body was buried face up, it might become a vampire. Improper burial, no burial, the wind, or a shadow falling over the corpse might cause the deceased to rise again.
According to another site, you might become a vampire if a dog or a cat jumped over your corpse. Russian folklore held that vampires had once been witches.
She didn’t know much about vampires, but being bitten by another vampire seemed like the most logical way to join the ranks of the fanged and dangerous.
Shirl woke late in the afternoon. She picked at the lunch Megan prepared for her, then locked herself in the bathroom, saying she wanted her hair and makeup to look perfect when she was turned.
Feeling like she was trapped in a bad B movie, Megan went into the backyard, where she spent the next two hours pulling weeds and praying that Shirl would come to her senses before it was too late.