My brain was going dark, as if I was slipping away into some corner deep inside my head, where it didn't hurt so much. I could feel the grass under my back getting slick and hot, while I got colder.
Ben was screaming for help, for someone to call 911. I managed to lift my arms enough to feel that my ribs were definitely going in the wrong direction. Tina Messinger, our dorm director, suddenly appeared over me, her frizzy brown hair forming a cloud around her head. Through the haze of pain and blood pounding in my ears, I heard her squeaky voice say, "This is bad. I can see her ribs poking out through her shirt. This is really bad."
That was exactly what I needed to hear.
I opened my mouth to point out how unhelpful this was, but blood was bubbling up between my lips, making it hard to push air through to make sounds.
Please, help me. Please.
I didn't want to die. I was too young. I hadn't seen anything of the world. I'd barely left Kentucky. I'd barely lived.
"You're going to be OK," Ben told me, sternly, as if he could command me to get up and shake it off. He cupped my chin in his hand and moved my head gently so I was forced to meet his eyes. "Meagan, just keep breathing. Stay awake."
I was trying. Couldn't he see how hard I was trying? The tiny flow of oxygen I was drawing in through my nose seemed like a championship effort.
"Meagan," Tina said, wiping at my mouth and smearing her hands with bright red. "I'm not a doctor, but you have a lot of injuries, and they are pretty bad. The chances of you surviving this . . . I don't know if the ambulance will get to you in time. You signed your consent form before you moved in, but I have to ask you again: do you want to be turned?"
I nodded my head, or at least I thought I did. I couldn't really feel much anymore.
Anything to make the pain go away. Anything to avoid dying. Please.
"Can I get a vampire volunteer?" Tina yelled. "I need a vampire to act as an emergency sire! Get over here, and present your Council card!"
My eyes fluttered shut, and I heard Ben cry for me to stay awake, to keep my eyes open. Everything felt heavy and cold, dragging me down into the darkness. Someone lifted my arms and slashed at my wrists, pain that barely registered against the agony in my chest. I was cold and tired, and I hurt so much. It seemed so much easier to just go to sleep, to let go and drift off, even as something cool and coppery dripped into my mouth.
///
The last thing I remembered was Ben yelling, "Meagan!"
The memory faded, and here was Ben again, standing in my hospital room, bleeding, and my fangs were out. Because I was a vampire. This was bad. This was so very bad.
"How are you already awake?" Ben asked, pushing to his feet and stumbling toward me as I backed away.
Thump-a-thump-a-thump.
"I don't know," I said, shaking my head, clamping my lips around my teeth. "But I think you need to get away from me. Ben, you're bleeding."
"What?" He glanced down at his hand. "Oh."
I slapped my hands over my fangs, but he didn't move away like I expected. In fact, he stepped closer, edging me back until the backs of my legs bumped against the bed. That burning thirst crackled through my throat, making the act of swallowing painful.
Thump-a-thump-a-thump.
"But you're OK?" he asked, the corners of his mouth lifting into a hopeful smile.
"I'm OK, but I think you're in danger," I told him, even as my nose followed that delicious scent and urged me forward. My lips parted, and I could feel my mouth water at the scent of him. I was lucky I wasn't drooling down my chin.
"You smell nice," he said, leaning in a bit closer to sniff delicately. "I think it's your breath. It smells like vanilla and a little mint, maybe?"
I licked my lips. With all of his focus on my mouth, it was almost involuntary.
"You're so beautiful. I mean, you were gorgeous before, but now? You should see yourself." He reached his uninjured hand up to my cheek and stroked his thumb down the curve of my face. He leaned close, inhaling deeply through parted lips. My hands slipped around his waist as he pulled my face gently forward.
His lips were warm, so warm, and they tasted like every good thing, strawberries and chocolate and, oddly enough, the steaks my mom used to make on my birthday. I groaned, pulling him close-maybe a little too hard, because he gasped. I slipped my tongue along his open mouth, and he seemed to forget the discomfort quickly enough. He sank against me, and we fell against the wall with a chorused "ooof."