“You know what I really want to know? Why did you even leave in the first place? And don’t say it was for the job, because I know you didn’t really want it. So, why?”
Jericho rolls a shoulder again in a half-hearted shrug, but his face is stiff and uncomfortable.
“Why did you leave, Jericho?”
“I can't answer that.”
I shake my head and huff. “Seriously? Since when do we keep secrets from each other?”
He closes his eyes, like the question pains him. Good. Maybe it’ll give him a taste of what I’ve been through.
“At least tell me why you didn't come back!”
“I would've, but…”
“Butwhat?”
He lifts his gaze, his green eyes piercing. “I was turned that night.”
Thatsurprises me. “The first night there?”
“Yeah. I went to a club the night after my interview, but I guess I didn't understand the symbol on the door. It was a supe club. You know, for supernaturals? By the time I realized it, it was too late. The leader of a small coven flagged me.”
I narrow my eyes. “What does that mean?”
“He… claimed me as his. Made it so no one else could talk to me. And I couldn't leave without giving him something.”
My stomach drops. “Blood?” He doesn't answer, so I take a step closer. “Would you fucking talk to me?”
“That's what he wanted, yeah.” His face hardens.
“If it wasn't blood, what did you give him? Money?” I know for a fact that Jericho didn’t have much when he left town, but he could’ve offered a few thousand in a tight spot.
The subtle tick of his jaw tells me it’s something else, though.
“Wait. Do you mean sex? He forced himself on you?”
Jericho scoffs. “He didn’t force anything, Ev. Iofferedit. It was either that or blood and, yeah, I was too chickenshit to let him bite me.”
Bile rises in my throat. “That doesn't make it okay. What he did, it wasn’t—Jer, you’re saying he forced you into it!”
Something flashes across his face too quick for me to read. A sadness almost, but I can’t be sure. “The only thing he forced me into was the change,” he says firmly. “The sex wasn't forced.”
He talks about it so distantly, like he’s tried to convince himself a thousand times over, make himself believe it was his choice. But I’m not buying it.
I cross the distance to stand directly in front of him, our breaths mixing. “He gave you an ultimatum. That's the same thing as forcing you. And transition by force is against the law.”
He doesn’t look away, unfazed that I know supe law. But it’s just a fact. Everyone knows how regulated transition is now. Vamps can’t just go around changing people, or else there would be more vamps than humans and their life source would be depleted. Vampires have to submit an application to the paranormal government to take away someone’s mortality, but they’re rarely approved.
“Why haven’t you turned him in?”
Jericho's expression is a mix of guilt and shame, but there’s something else too. Something buried beneath a mountain of self-hate. He seems… defeated. “Because it wouldn’t go anywhere, Ev. All they’d hear is that I offered myself to him, and that would be the end of it.”
“But transition—”
“It doesn’t matter! Do you really think they’re going to do anything about it? I’m not the only one who has been turned against their will!”
I swallow back my reply. He’s right. The news is filled with stories of unwanted turnings, and more often than not, the vampire is forgiven—as long as they train their new fledgling to control the bloodlust.
