Thea (Book 2): A Vampire Story by Jenkins Steven

Author:Jenkins, Steven [Jenkins, Steven]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Vampires
Published: 2017-06-26T04:00:00+00:00

13

A vampire with a fridge and a microwave seems strange, yet so essential.

According to Kate, human blood should be around ninety-eight degrees Fahrenheit, any lower or higher and it loses its potency. Sucking on a stone-cold, dead man’s veins barely has any effect. I suppose it’ll take the edge off, like a bite of an apple to a human, but it’s a far cry from offering any real nourishment.

Kate puts five of the blood bags into the mini-fridge, stuffs another four into the tiny freezer compartment, and places the last one on the kitchen worktop.

Gazing at the transparent bag of red-gold, I think about tearing it open and swallowing the whole lot. Kate’s probably thinking the exact same thing. She makes a small incision in the bag and pours a little into a mug, about halfway up. She does the same with another mug, and then puts both into the microwave for a few seconds. When it bings, she opens the door, takes out one of the mugs, sniffs the blood, tastes a little, and then puts it back in for a few seconds more. It bings again, so she tastes it, nods, and then smiles. “It’s ready,” she says, and finishes the mug with one mouthful.

She hands me the other one and I do the same. I close my eyes as the blood oozes down my throat, warming my body as it fills my stomach, taking away that wretched pain.

I open my eyes and stare at the open blood bag. I want some more.

I reach for it, but Kate quickly moves it away, putting a plastic clip over the tear to seal it. “Control yourself, Thea,” she says as she puts it into the fridge with the other bags, “or there won’t be any left.”

“We can get some more,” I say. “In a few months. They’ll never know.”

Kate shakes her head. “No—we can’t. This blood is for us to mix with animal blood. Remember? This cup is just to get you through the day.”

Eyes still glued to the fridge, I reluctantly nod my head. “Okay.” It’s not okay—far from it—but I know she’s right. I’ve got to keep my head; don’t let the addiction rule me. I’m not an alcoholic. I can—

Suddenly an image forms in my head of Mum, glugging down a glass of red wine on the couch, bitching to me about missing the school bus. A returning memory should fill me with happiness—with hope—but all this one does is depress me.

Kate walks out of the kitchen, towards the couch. “We’ll go hunting tomorrow evening.” She sits down and puts on the TV. “But right now, I’m tired, and all I want to do is veg-out and watch a movie.”

I look at the fridge again, almost licking my lips, imagining devouring another mugful of blood, but then join her on the couch. “A movie sounds good,” I say. “I need the distraction.”

“Good girl. The last thing I want to do is put a padlock on that fridge.”

Ha! Joke’s on her—there’s no place to put one.

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