Damon finally remembers how to use words. "Sable?" His voice cracks like he's going through puberty. "You're... you're alive?"
Well, technically...
"Define 'alive,'" I mutter, not taking my eyes off our newest member of Club Undead. "Because right now she's more in the 'craving-a-blood-smoothie' category."
"I... I feel..." Sable's voice sounds like she's been gargling gravel. "Everything is so...loud."
Welcome to vampire sensory overload, sweetheart. Where everything's dialed up to eleven and normal volume no longer exists.
"Someone want to explain what theactual fuckjust happened?" Emily snaps.
Oh honey, buckle up. This explanation is gonna be a wild ride.
"My blood," I admit, running a hand through my hair. "When I tried to save her. Must've been just enough to trigger the change. Congratulations, it's a vampire."
And somewhere in the great beyond, the universe is laughing its cosmic ass off at me.
"So she's not..." Brax's voice hangs in the air, his hellfire eyes darting between Sable and me, "...dead?" The question hangs with equal parts hope and what-the-actual-hell confusion. For a demon who's seen literal hell, he looks impressively bewildered by Vampire 101.
"Oh, she's definitely dead," I clarify helpfully. "Just the fun kind of dead. The kind that comes with eternal youth, supernatural powers, and an unfortunate aversion to tanning."
Sable blinks rapidly. "I'm a... vampire?"
"Surprise?" I offer weakly. "Welcome to the club. We have t-shirts."
"Youturnedher?" Damon's voice does that crack thing again. Seriously, someone get this kid a throat lozenge.
"Not intentionally!" I defend, watching Sable's nostrils flare. "It was more of a 'whoops, accidentally created eternal life' situation. You know, when you mean to text one person but hit 'reply all'? Except with vampirism."
"Oh my god." Emily gapes, stumbling to her feet.
Seraphina's wings finally stop their divine light show, whichthank fuck, because my retinas were about to file for divorce. "We need blood. Now."
"On it!" Brax actuallyvolunteers, probably grateful for any excuse to exit this clusterfuck. His demon ass vanishes in a puff of smoke that smells suspiciously like burnt Pop-Tarts.
"Sable?" Damon tries again, taking a step forward.
"Ah-ah!" I throw out an arm to block Lover Boy. "Vampire or not, baby vamp here is running on pure instinct. Unless you want your romantic reunion to turn into WWE SmackDown: Vampire Edition, stay put, Romeo."
The first tear rolls down Sable's cheek, then another, thenfucking Niagara Falls. Her emotions ping-pong across her face faster than my Netflix recommendations after Emily's been binge-watching."I can't—" Her voice cracks. "I'm supposed to be awitch!" The last word explodes from her with enough force to rattle my prized Marvel figurines. Then—WHOOSH—she's justgone, leaving only a pink blur and the sound of my imported vases getting absolutely massacred.
CRASH
Please don't find the Marvel shrine, please don't find the Marvel shrine...
"For fuck's sake, Lucian!" Emily's voice could cut diamonds. "Do something before she redesigns your entire house."
"Like what?" I throw my hands up. "Write her a 'Sorry You're Undead' Hallmark card?"
Another blur of pink, another crash that sounds suspiciously like my art deco coffee table meeting its maker.
Christ.
My limited-edition Iron Man figure wobbles dangerously on its shelf.
"Use your Maker's command, you absolute fucking walnut!"
Oh.
