Page 16 of Abiding Blood

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and relief washed over me. It was Karl. He hadn’t left yet, thank God. I called out again. The door rattled, and Karl banged loudly as he tried to break it open.

I can only imagine what Karl saw when the door finally gave way, and he flicked on the lights. How must I have looked, lying there, covered in enough blood for three people, weak and pleading for help?

Karl froze for a moment, staring at me with his mouth agape. I was propped up on one elbow, looking through a mask of gore. Karl quickly regained his senses and rushed to my side. Ignoring the mess, he rolled me onto my back.

“Sir, where are you hurt?” Karl asked, his voice frantic as he gently ran his hands over me, searching for a wound or trying to assess how to administer first aid.

“I’m not hurt,” I breathed. “I need to get to my room. Take me to my rooms.” My voice was so soft that I could only hope he could hear me.

Karl pulled out his cell phone and attempted to operate it with blood-smeared fingers.

“No,” I said as loudly as I could. “Don’t call anyone. They can’t help me. I need to get out of here. Now.” I looked up at the pinkening sky and groaned. My exposed skin, despite being coated in drying blood, was beginning to burn, adding to my agony and panic.

Unable to hold it back any longer, a sob escaped my throat. “Please.” Things were about to get so much worse.

Bless him, Karl nodded. His face hardened as he grabbed me under the arms and began to pull. I was of no help. Keeping my eyes open was enough of a struggle, and I eventually gave up.

Karl dragged me from the room and into the hall, slipping on the slick mess several times and pausing to readjust his grip. I could feel when we were finally clear of the dim light filtering through the glass. I sighed in relief, but I knew I wasn’t out of the woods yet.

What the hell was happening to me? What on Earth could make a vampire so sick? Was this how I was going to die? Those were my last thoughts before I slipped into unconsciousness and thought no more.

8

JULIAN

The two men left together, and I did my best to quell the ache in my chest. The disappointment made no sense. So a beautiful man had looked in my direction? Was I so starved for affection that I was pining for a stranger I’d never even spoken to?

“Julian, are you okay?” Em asked, placing a hand on mine where it rested on the table.

“Oh, yeah,” I said, pulling myself out of my head. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you look like a kicked puppy. No offense,” she said, wincing.

“None taken,” I said, letting out a sigh. “I’m losing it, Em. I need a break.” I rubbed my hand over my face, trying to clear my thoughts.

Someone across the bar let out a hacking cough, and Emily raised her sculpted eyebrows. “You might get your wish,” she joked. “I heard the New York office is working from home now.”

“That’s just what I need,” I said with sarcasm, “to be locked alone in the house where Mark and I lived for three years.”

“Well, you could crash at my place if you wanted,” she offered. “We could at least be a ‘pod’ or whatever they call it this time around.”

“Thanks for the offer,” I said. “Hopefully it won’t get that bad. I’m not looking forward to hoarding toilet paper and baking more sourdough bread.”

“Oh, Lord. I think I gained ten pounds from the bread alone,” she said with a grin, but then her expression grew serious. “But please do reach out if we all end up on lockdown again. You shouldn’t be all by yourself.”

“You sound as bad as my parents,” I said. “It’s not going to get that bad. In a week we’ll forget all about this flu and the news will be fanning some other crisis.”

“I don’t know, Julian,” Emily said, catching her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment before continuing. “I think this one is going to be bad. It’s already gotten bad in Europe, and there are some disturbing reports out of parts of Asia too.”

“The Pacific Northwest isn’t any of those places,” I argued. “You’ll see. Even if we have to go on lockdown for a short while, we’ll be fine, maybe a little fatter, but just fine.”

“I hope you’re right,” she said, softening her words with another smile.

We switched to a more neutral topic and finished our drinks. When my beer glass was empty, I waved the waitress over, and we settled our bill. I thanked Emily for getting me out of the house, and we exchanged a quick hug before promising to see each other at the office the next day.

The Uber ride home was quick. The driver was wearing a mask; another reminder that things weren’t quite normal. As the door shut behind me and I stared up at my house, all the windows dark, I suddenly dreaded going inside. What if Emily was right? I wasn’t sure I could stand being shut in there all by myself for days on end.

At least my fears about another pandemic distracted me from my earlier disappointment at the bar. But as I went through my evening routine and settled in bed, visions of the man’s face came back to me.