Crimson Born - Amy Patrick Page 0,13

it than just biting a person.

And who even knew what the turning process would be like? I couldn’t remember anything about my own.

On the other hand, side-effects were hardly a concern at this point. Josiah was certainly going to die if I didn’t at least try it.

Behind me the glass door slid open with a swish.

Oh no. My time was up. I’d missed my chance.

“One more minute,” the nurse said.

Keeping my face turned away from her, I nodded my understanding, and she left the room again.

I stroked Josiah’s hand, examining his still face.

“What should I do?” I whispered. “I wish I knew whether you’d want this or not.”

At that moment, his finger twitched, making me jump. Maybe it was just an involuntary movement, but I took it as a sign.

Keeping my back turned to the window, I lifted Josiah’s hand to my lips, opened my mouth, and closed my teeth on his skin.

At first, I thought I hadn’t bitten hard enough, but then the taste of blood filled my mouth.

It was different from those times long ago when I’d lost a tooth or brushed too hard and caused gum bleeding. Josiah’s blood tasted... amazing. Better than Mamm’s blueberry cobbler with fresh cream, better than hot, buttered kettle corn.

I wasn’t sure it was necessary for the transformation process to begin, but I drew more of the blood into my mouth.

As it moved past my taste buds to my throat and then my stomach, my head started to swim. My hands, which held Josiah’s hand, shook—not with weakness but with energy.

In fact, my entire body felt energized in a way I’d never before experienced, each limb coming alive and making me feel like I could punch through one of these walls if I wanted to, like I could run the ten miles to my family’s farm without breaking a sweat.

I never wanted to stop feeling this way, and I never wanted to stop drinking. Nothing I had ever done or could ever do would be able to match the pleasure of this moment.

Somewhere in the back of my brain was the dim realization that if I didn’t stop, all of Josiah’s blood would be gone, and that couldn’t be a good thing.

But the larger part of my mind was sparking and whirling with other thoughts and sensations.

The door behind me slid open again, and the nurse stepped into the room. Don’t ask me how I knew she’d walked in because her shoes made no noise, but I knew she was there. I pulled Josiah’s bleeding hand close to my body, hunching over it to hide the evidence.

One of the millions of thoughts racing through my brain was that now that she’d caught me, I might have to kill her too.

That caused a whole new level of exhilaration while at the same time horrified me that I could even think such a thing.

But the woman didn’t scream or demand I stop or even accuse me of anything. She placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and spoke in a tone filled with compassion.

“It’s time. I’m so sorry.”

Oh. She thought the tremors of my body and my hunched posture meant I was crying.

I nodded rapidly then swiped my tongue over Josiah’s hand once more before placing it on the bed and tucking the sheets up over it.

He still hadn’t moved, hadn’t made a sound or given any indication he’d felt what I was doing.

It didn’t work. I’m not strong enough. Either that or I’d taken too much blood and killed him.

Without lifting my head to look at the nurse, I whispered, “Thank you,” then stood and rushed from the room before my thoughts about her and the sound of her strong, steady heartbeat got the better of me.

Hurrying down the hall toward the elevator, I spotted the Yoders coming toward me.

Oh no. As I’d grown up next door to them and had known them all my life, they were like second parents to me. But I couldn’t face them right now.

And I definitely didn’t want to be there when they walked into their son’s room and found him dead.

“Abigail?” Mrs. Yoder said. “What are you doing here, dear? Did you come to see our Josiah?”

Her gray-faced expression of grief matched that of her husband. They both looked like they’d aged twenty years since I’d seen them a few days ago.

I ducked my head and rushed past them. “I’m so sorry.”

And then I opened the door to the emergency stairwell and ran down the five