“We know about your illness, Libby,” Jane added. “Even if we hadn’t run a background check on you, you’ve been on my mama’s church prayer list for months. Plus, I’ve been reading your unusually loud thoughts for the last couple of minutes, and your story checks out, along with your not awesome but not megalomaniacal intentions.”
I turned to Dick. “She read my mind?”
He shrugged. “It’s a thing. Try not to picture people naked around her.”
Jane ignored us both. “Look, it’s not that I don’t sympathize. I do. But there’s a reason we don’t do bite-for-hire transactions. Money takes the deliberation out of the equation. It’s the equivalent of undead prostitution, which is a creepy thing even to say, much less do.” She looked to her companion, who had stayed silent during this diatribe. “A little help here?”
Dick shrugged and actually patted me on top of the head. “I can’t fuss at her. Look at her. She’s all brand-new and scared, like a little vampire kitten with big, sad cartoon eyes. Don’t you just want to hug her?”
“That’s sweet, but please don’t hug me,” I told him, shaking my head.
“Don’t hug her.” Jane sighed. “Dick, we’re supposed to be chastising her or giving her stern guidance or something. Stern guidance does not involve hugs.”
Dick mumbled something about “feeling sorry for Jamie.”
“So what was your plan?” Jane asked. “You get bitten, and a couple of days later, you let your son walk into your house to be alone all day, waiting for you to wake up? No preparation, just pray you can keep your thirst under control?”
“I had a plan,” I insisted. “Danny’s on a camping trip with his grandparents until Sunday, an end-of-the-summer thing before he starts school. I told my in-laws I needed time to recover after a treatment, which they were more than willing to believe. And since they told me they would have him home by four, that means I have until at least eight-thirty before they drop him off, because they’re always late bringing him back. I figured I would have some time to get over the bloodthirst before he comes home. I have a babysitter all lined up to stay with Danny during the day while I’m asleep. I’ve already set up a contract with Beeline to deliver blood to my house starting this week. I took a calculated risk.”
Jane harrumphed as if she was not all that impressed with my plans and/or backup plans. “If this was the result of your calculations, you suck at math.”
“OK, so it was a crappy plan, but I was frantic. I’m sorry. And don’t be too hard on my sire, whoever he may be,” I added reluctantly. “He lived up to his end of the deal, at least. And he didn’t hurt me. He shouldn’t suffer because he helped me. Besides, I’m not really sure how to contact him.”
“Oh, trust me, I’ve spoken to your sire. And he’s not going to contact you, period. If his judgment is this piss-poor, he doesn’t have the right to guide you through your transition.”
“I really hadn’t planned on contacting him anyway.”
“You say that because you don’t really understand the sire-childe relationship,” Dick told me, sounding more severe than he had during this whole disaster of a conversation. “You’re going to need guidance. And if your sire was anywhere around, you would instinctually look to him.”
“Even if he is an enormous asshat,” Jane added.
This made me smile, for some perverse reason. But given the irritated expression on Dick’s otherwise winsome face, I decided to ignore that and resolve the issues I could handle at the moment.
“So what happens now? Are you going to turn me in to CPS?” I asked. “Report me for potentially exposing my son to inappropriate displays of vampirism?”
“And set back vampire parents’ rights ten years because you took the half-assed route to being undead?” Jane said. “No, thanks. The courts are just now getting to the point where they give vampire parents fair consideration in custody cases. If you screw this up—if your story gets out about how you paid some random vamp to turn you so you could keep your son and you end up hurting him, or if you screw up and your in-laws, who as I understand it are already preparing for Danny to live with them full-time, end up taking custody of him anyway—it will be a public-relations nightmare I don’t even want to think about.”
If I’d been capable of blushing, my cheeks would have flushed with guilt. I hadn’t thought of the effects my actions would have on other vampire parents. I would be the first to admit that I’d had tunnel vision, only concerned about myself, my son. I forgot how quickly the media hopped on sensational stories about vampires behaving badly, anything to recapture the initial panic of the Great Coming Out. The idea that my actions might result in some other mother losing her children made my stomach twist with guilt.