CHAPTER 17

I've heard it before. From Eric, from Luke, on how vampires and humans can never be in a healthy relationship. I've even seen firsthand, fellow humans falling for the vampires that feed on them. But the vampires have a hard time seeing humans as anything other than a food source, and if not, just a species to be tolerated. I've never seen a vampire want to be with a human in any way other than that, or a one-night stand. Primal urges are all we're good for.

And that's fine. In fact, if Luke just wanted me for all his primal urges, I wouldn't complain. I know it would make our friendship hella complicated, but it's already kind of complicated if sad vampire clowns are telling me it's all doomed to begin with.

I just think him acting pissy and possessive, like a jealous lover, is probably the most I'm going to get out of him.

I sigh inwardly, then get started on making more drinks for the thirsty crowd.

/Amanda/

I woke up to someone crying.

I lie there for a moment, eyes blinking at the dark room, wondering if perhaps I'm still asleep and this is just a dream that's overstayed its welcome. Wouldn't be the first time that realities have bled together in this house.

Especially on Halloween, I think to myself, holding my breath slightly to hear better. Shit always gets weird on Halloween. Samhain. When the veils between the worlds are at their thinnest. So the vampires say, anyway.

I continue to hold my breath, ears straining for the errant sound, though I feel myself being pulled back into sleep. My thoughts drift back to the party, to Luke, to the way he looked at me, such fire in his gaze. Not just like I was something he wanted to taste, that I was something he wanted to have. Keep.

Possession.

It makes me wish I had gotten drunk, that I had worked up the courage to do something about it. I could have talked to him somewhere quiet, let out the feelings that do nothing more than churn and churn inside myself, until I'm just this chaotic mess of hormones and unrequited lust.

And that's the way things will stay. He's never going to make a move for one reason or another. Neither will you. Remember what the sad clown said.

I sigh and close my eyes, knowing I'm right.

Then I hear it again.

There.

A plaintive wail, something loud at first then fading, fading, as if it's disappearing down the hallway outside my room.

I try to sit up, but to my horror, I can't.

I can't move at all, I can't even breathe.

It's like there's something heavy sitting on my chest.

Sleep paralysis, I tell myself, trying not to panic. It's just sleep paralysis. Everyone gets it.

But even though I can't move, I can see.

And I see nothing but this shadowy darkness in front of me, like the room has grown dimmer, like my eyes are doing the opposite of adjusting.

"Come to me, my little one," a singsong voice whispers in my ear. "For I've come to take you home."

Fuck me!

I open my mouth to scream but no sound escapes. There's nothing but the beating of my heart and a singing voice in my ear. It belongs to a woman and I don't even think she's speaking English, and yet I can understand her anyway.

"Home is a world of blood and flesh," she continues to sing, "where I'll strip you to the bone."

Sleep paralysis and auditory hallucinations, I tell myself frantically. That's all this is. They go hand in hand. No one is singing this to you, it's coming from inside your own head.

"Then I'll come back and take the rest," the woman's voice goes on, as if to taunt me, "all of those you love so dear. It's in the new world the pain will end, with only bones to keep you near."

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.

Then, as soon as it came on, the pressure and darkness lifted.

What the fuck is happening?

I quickly sit up, gasping for breath, the sheets falling away, and suddenly it's like the room has dipped below freezing. Goosebumps crawl over my skin and there's a sharp prickle from the back of my skull, all the way down my spine. I breathe out and the air floats in front of me like an icy cloud.

The room comes back into focus, shapes of familiarity.

Except that the door is open wide, showcasing the hallway beyond, a hint of warm flickering light on the dark walls.

"What the fuck is going on?" I whisper to myself. I take a moment to try and take stock, then slowly swing my legs over the side of the bed, though part of me fears that a hand might shoot out from the dark and grab my ankle.

I push that thought away, reminding myself that everything so far has just been in my head. It's Halloween and I'm just spooked out and I live in a house that has its own personality, with vampires on every floor. It gets to you sometimes, that's all.

Still, as I slowly walk toward the door, my heart is thundering in my chest. I know the door wasn't open when I first woke up, I would have noticed, and more than that, there were no candles burning in the hall when I finally went to bed. Luke has a habit of lighting the rather macabre looking red and black candles that're all over the house, mainly because he can conjure up flames with the snap of his fingers (part of that witch magic he has bartered for), but no one lets them burn overnight. We always blow them out before bed.

Cautiously, I poke my head out of my bedroom and look down the hall.

I gasp.

Fuck.

There's a woman.

A woman standing on the red velvet carpet, dressed in a blue hospital gown. Her back is to me and I see a slice of old, pale skin, her dark graying hair falling down her spine.

I blink.

This can't be real. This is a hallucination too.

You're still asleep you idiot. Of course this isn't real.

That has to be it. There's no woman here and I'm not in the hallway. This is all a dream, as was the sleep paralysis, and the lullaby in my ears.

And yet, I find myself strangely compelled to walk to the woman and help her. Something inside me finds her familiar, tells me she needs me. That she's lost.

That I know her.

"Hello?" I say, taking a step forward, but my voice is a low, rough whisper.

The woman starts to walk down the hall, away from me. Slow steps in bare feet. I watch the faint footprints she leaves behind on the carpet. I swear they're tinged with red, with blood, but it's hard to tell when the carpet is the same color.

Then the woman turns the corner where there is no corner.

She just disappears into the wall.

Holy fuck.

I stare at nothing for a while, expecting her to reappear, like a cheap jump scare. Minutes tick past. The house is so quiet, for a moment I think I can hear it breathing.