“No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “That won’t be necessary. And besides, it would be far too uncomfortable.”
She moved closer to me and cupped my face in her hands. At first I thought this was just her usual irritating, overly-affectionate behavior, and I was about to brush her aside, but from her expression of concentration I realized that she was doing something else. When she let go of me, I raised a hand to my face but found that, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t bring it closer than five inches from my mouth. I tried to raise my forearm and bring it closer, but again, it was impossible. It was as though she had placed an invisible barrier around my head.
This should do the job.
I looked toward her and nodded, grateful for the solution. “Thank you,” I said. “You can leave again now.”
She glanced at the blood and as she did, the stains vanished from the seat, as if they had never been there to begin with. Then, after saying goodbye, she left.
Alone again, I heaved a sigh. Now it was time to wait again. I didn’t attempt to pick up another book—my hunger was far too blinding for me to be able to concentrate. Instead I walked over to the bed and lay down. Maybe, if I could just drift back into unconsciousness, I would be able to pass more time like this. Now that I was no longer able to harm myself with my fangs, this would be the least painful state of existence.
Chapter 8: Ben
By some mercy, I did manage to sleep. I didn’t remember the last time I’d rested properly, and my body was exhausted.
When I woke up, it was with a strange lightness in my head. As I sat up and looked around the room, my vision was sharp and crisp. I stood up, and when I felt a sense of strength in my body, I wondered whether I was just imagining it. I stretched out my arms, examining them. They had healed by now. I wondered how long I’d been asleep.
I walked around the room, allowing the last traces of sleep to leave me. As they did, I became suddenly aware of the absence of the acute hunger that had been plaguing me before. I still felt thirst—but it wasn’t even half as uncomfortable.
I entered the bathroom and splashed my face with cold water. When I glanced up at the mirror, my eyes had returned to their normal vivid green color.
Perhaps more time has passed than it feels like?
I held my breath, unsure of what to think. I wondered whether this was just my wishful thinking carrying me away—making me read signs. I didn’t want to get my hopes up even in the slightest that something might’ve changed.
I left the bathroom and walked back into the main room. I continued pacing up and down, paying close attention to the level of hunger in my stomach and my general state of being. Perhaps this was just the effect of having rested for a long time—my body was rejuvenated, but soon the effect would wear off and the pangs would grow strong and loud again.
I kept pacing the room, waiting for the agony to strike again. But it didn’t. All I felt was the type of hunger that a human might experience—uncomfortable, but not unbearable. Not anywhere near the level I had gotten used to experiencing as a vampire—the type that could make me lose my mind. Or make me start biting into my own flesh…
I still didn’t dare voice my hope inside my head, because reading the signs wrong would only make the disappointment all the more crushing.
But after several hours of monitoring my level of hunger, and paying close attention to the way I was feeling in general, there was a test that I wanted to carry out.
I brushed a hand against the snake’s head on my wrist band and waited for Nuriya to appear. She arrived after a few minutes.
Her eyes widened as she looked me over. “You’re looking better,” she said.
I winced internally at her words, still so tentative about letting myself entertain the idea. I just wanted to focus on the test—which would give us a hard result either way without speculation or false hope.
“I want you to feed me some animal blood,” I said.
Nuriya moved toward the dining area in one corner of the spacious room and turned her back on me. She pulled down a glass and a jug from one of the shelves. When she turned around, the jug that she was holding was filled with red liquid.
She handed me the glass, and then filled it to the top.
“What kind of blood is this?” I asked, raising the glass to my nose so I could sniff it.
“Snake blood,” she replied.
I remembered the last time I’d tried to drink snake blood. I’d gone into the snake room in the upper atrium. I had ended up throwing up all over the floor.
Gingerly, I raised the glass to my lips and took my first sip.
I felt like gagging the moment the liquid entered my mouth. It was so repugnant, so eye-wateringly bitter to my palate after the rich, luxuriant human blood The Oasis had afforded me. I wouldn’t have been surprised if I vomited from the taste alone.