Tai shook his head. That couldn’t be right. “I don’t let the thirst control me. I control it.”
“Yeah, that’s a stupid principle invented by someone who didn’t have our condition. The best way to control hematorexia is to slake as needed. Second, when you do feel an attack coming on, helping your body regulate temperature is important. We don’t regulate as well as typical vampires, and an attack makes it a heck of a lot worse, causes a rapid temperature crash, like a reverse fever. Have you ever taken your temperature when it happens?”
“No.”
“It usually drops two or three degrees lower than our normal sixty-eight. But this can vary too, and if it drops more than that, you’ll feel worse. There’s research that says the prey drive heightens the colder we get. Sort of a survival signal—go feed on warmth to get warm.”
“I—I didn’t know,” Tai said. “I’ve tried to research where the gene comes from, how it’s inherited, but I never looked into the physical experience. I figured I didn’t need details on how it felt; I already knew that part.”
“I can see your logic there.” Peter nodded almost to himself, as if picturing how Tai’s thoughts had played out. “You went after the cause instead of treating the symptoms, and I get it. But this stuff is important too, maybe more so.”
“How do you deal with it? The…reverse fever?”
“Oh, nothing complicated. Keep multiple blankets in your car, at your workplace, and of course at home. When you have an attack, you need to bundle up as soon as possible. Add blankets until it starts to help. Ignoring the chill is the worst thing you can do, Tai. If it gets a grip on you, it prolongs and intensifies the attack.”
“I’ve never…” Tai tried to process the reality that if this were all true, he could have been coping better. All these years. He swallowed a hard, salty lump of emotion that pushed into his throat, blinked hard as a burning began behind his eyes. Somehow Peter’s matter-of-fact advice felt overly kind, even sacred. Tai cleared his throat of the overwhelm, the old hurts. “I do get cold. A lot. But I tell myself to toughen up, no one else is this cold, don’t be a wimp.”
“And how does that work for you?”
Tai ducked his head. Felt stupid now.
Peter’s voice gentled. “Some folks resist taking care of themselves.”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“I’m truly sorry, Tai. You shouldn’t have been alone with this.”
“It’s fine,” he said quickly.
There was the hand again, a firm grip on Tai’s shoulder that compelled him to meet Peter’s eyes.
“No,” Peter said. “It isn’t fine. None of us should struggle alone. And I’m not going to lie to you; itisa struggle, even at my age. It never goes away. But, kid, if you’ve got the needles that bad, then you’re in a worse place than you need to be. The needles go away altogether when we take care of ourselves. They’re a warning sign that your body’s having a hard time.”
Tai scrubbed a hand down his face. “Sounds about right.”
“Let’s work on it together, okay? Call me when you need to. We can meet out here and talk through it. If it’s getting to youin the moment, I’ll give you tips over the phone. Mid-attack, it can be hard to remember what to do until the habits really get ingrained.”
“Yeah. I will. I…I appreciate the offer.”
Peter gave a smirk. “What else is a relic for than to pass along our hard-earned wisdom to you lookers?”
Tai chuckled, and it felt good, lightening the weight on his shoulders. “Okay. What’s next? What big obvious thing have I never heard of?”
“This isn’t your fault.”
He rolled his eyes. “Um, I already knew that one.”
“No, kid. Look at me.”
When Tai did, Peter took him by both shoulders and studied him hard. His eyes flared with a golden-green shine that Tai felt all the way to his cold bones. Peter was letting Tai see the fullness of his age, two centuries plus, despite the usual caginess of relics.
“Why are you showing me?” Tai whispered.
“So you’ll believe me,” Peter said, and his voice was melody and harmony, point and counterpoint, a dozen instruments while Tai’s fullest voice held only a few. “I’m nearing my three-hundredth birthday, young one. I have never harmed a human. Nor will you.”
Tai gripped the back of the bench. He needed to hold onto something. “Peter, I’m scared.”
“I know you are. I know you’d rather die than hurt a human.”
