A Wind of Change(43)

What is he doing?

I remained watching for about a minute longer, and then I looked back at Joseph. He gestured with his head toward our right, suggesting that we leave, and I followed him. We walked quietly, and didn’t speak again until we were back in his apartment. Even then, we spoke in hushed tones.

“That was weird,” I said.

“Yeah,” Joseph said grimly. “A lot of things about this place are weird.”

“What do you think he’s doing?”

“I don’t know.”

It was frustrating. There seemed to be far more things about this place that Joseph did not know than those he did.

I was reminded of another question that I’d been meaning to ask him. “This tattoo, it started burning when I tried to escape through the boundary. Why was that?”

He leaned against the doorway, running a hand over his own right arm.

“The same happened to me,” he replied. “I thought for a while that the witches here might be responsible for these tattoos. But after staying here a while longer, I’m really not sure…” He held my gaze for a few moments and then looked away. “I’m going back to bed. Good night.”

He headed toward his room.

Watching him disappearing down the corridor filled me with emptiness. Though he was still a stranger to me, his presence brought me comfort. And I wasn’t used to sleeping alone. I was seventeen, and although it was embarrassing to admit, I was so used to sharing a room with my two sisters, I actually didn’t like sleeping alone.

“Joseph,” I said, just before he closed his door.

“What is it?”

“I was wondering, would you mind if I just… slept on the floor in your room? I’m just not used to sleeping alone, to be honest. Especially not in a strange place. I don’t think I’ll ever get any sleep…”

He looked taken aback by my request. He looked back into his room, and then pushed his door open wider. He shrugged.

“All right. If you want.”

“Thank you.”

I hurried back to my bedroom and grabbed my pillow and blanket. I was going to carry these to his room first and then come back to drag the mattress. But when I stepped into Joseph’s bedroom, he had already stripped his bed of its pillows and was setting up a sleeping area on the floor for himself.

“Oh, no. Joseph, I don’t want to kick you out of your bed. I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.”

He turned around and gave me a smile. Dimples formed on his handsome face.

“It’s all right, River. You sleep on the bed.”

I felt guilty as he continued to set up his sleeping spot on the floor, but I wasn’t going to object to him acting like a gentleman.

God knew, I hadn’t known enough of them in my life.





Chapter 16: River





After I moved into Joseph’s room, I was amazed that I managed to get a few hours of sleep. And I woke up feeling refreshed. Perhaps that was just one of the many quirks of this new body I found myself inhabiting, that I didn’t need much sleep. I guessed that vampires didn’t need much either. Joseph was up before me. I found him in the kitchen, sipping from a glass of blood.

He eyed me as I entered. “How are you feeling?”

No matter how well rested I was, it was impossible to feel anything but miserable knowing my sister was still trapped in the basement of this horrifying place.

“A bit better than last night,” I muttered.

I moved to the fridge, and opened it. There were still some sandwich ingredients left over. I placed some bread, cheese and tomatoes on a plate, poured myself a glass of water, and sat down opposite Joseph. Even as I began eating, I couldn’t take my eyes off the blood he was downing.

It was disconcerting to think that that blood could easily have been my sister’s or Hassan’s.

“I don’t understand how you can drink human blood,” I said, shuddering.

Joseph wiped his lower lip with a napkin. “It’s not a question of choice. At least not for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Some vampires can survive on animal blood alone, although it tastes disgusting compared to human blood. But I can’t stomach anything but human blood.”

“You have some real self-control issues.”

“Glad you finally noticed,” he muttered.

“But how do you live with yourself? I mean, you used to be human. How can you just drink that every day and not be crushed by guilt?”

His jaw twitched. “What makes you think that I don’t feel guilt?”

I didn’t reply. I guessed he was just doing what he had to do to survive. If I’d been in his position, I probably would have done the same.

I shifted in my seat, wanting to lead the conversation elsewhere. I could see I’d made him uncomfortable.