Bloody Stubborn by Judy Colella (bill gates best books .TXT) 📕

state, I knew better than to let anyone in. The mailman had a package for me, which I told him through the mail slot in the door to leave on the doorstep. And then there was my cat. She was the first casualty; not in the way you might think, though.

When I got home that horrible first morning, she was near the door as I entered – her usual hi-where’s-my-food-and-how-are-you spot – and immediately inflated herself into a massive ball of spiky black and white fur. Hissing madly, she backed away, then leaped out the nearest open window. She didn’t come back, either. My house is a ranch, meaning it has only one floor. That was lucky for the cat, really. What was luckier was her departure – I might have eventually stuck a straw in her.

On the fourth day, which found me whimpering at the kitchen table, unable to eat regular food and doubled over with hunger for hemoglobin, I went back over all the options I believed were open to me in my condition. None of them were attractive – drain a squirrel, drink what little blood I still had my own veins, or go out and Bela-Lugosi some poor human. No, no, and no.

“You stupid, stubborn fool!” I grated at me. “You didn’t ask for this, but it happened! You just gonna starve to death now?” All right, I thought, none of the logical options work for you – how about the illogical ones? What can you do that isn’t usual yet better?

I sat back and closed my eyes. I needed blood. Where was there any blood I could drink? Human veins, animals, the hospital blood bank…I jumped to my feet, eyes wide. That was it! I’d go to the hospital, tell them I had some kind of condition, and let them supply me. It sure beat trying to steal it! Ha!

Now try explaining this to a seething crowd of vampires who are all about staying undetected by the public. When I’d left the hospital the next day, Ryland was waiting for me. He looked curious, but nothing more – at first. Seems he believed I’d swiped some blood from the coolers or something, so I dispelled that misconception instantly.

“I asked them for blood,” I’d told him, calm with the surety that I’d done the right thing.

“You asked them for blood.”

“I did.”

“And they simply handed it over, did they?”

“Not at first. I had to tell them my problem – not that I’m a vampire, but that I got sick and seemed to have died, but really didn’t.”

His eyes had begun to glitter in an alarming way. “You told them that. I see. And what did they do?”

“Gave me a thorough examination.” I’d laughed, remembering the looks on the doctors’ faces when they realized that while my brain activity was normal, maybe even a little more than normal, I was flatlining according to the heart monitor. “I didn’t tell them some jackass bit me on the neck, if that’s what’s worrying you. I mean, I knew they would refuse to believe in vampires, so I let them draw their own medical conclusions.”

“Which were?”

“That I needed fresh human blood to survive, and that I had to digest it like food, not have it injected or anything.”

Ryland had gnawed on the side of his inner cheek for a few seconds, after which everything became a blur. Apparently, he’d grabbed me by the hand and run off at vampire-speed with me in tow. When he stopped, we were outside a huge deserted house (well, it looked deserted at first) in a part of town I didn’t recognize. “I’ll try to protect you,” he had snarled, “but don’t count on it doing any good.”

This didn’t bode well. But hey, I was already dead, wasn’t I? Had he left me alone after drinking from me, I’d also be graveyard dead and probably should be in any event. So who cared if – “Wait. Protect me? From whom?”

“The others. Let’s go.” He hadn’t let go yet. “Stay close.”

“Yeah, like you’re giving me a choice here.” I had glared pointedly at my hand clasped inextricably in his.

“Never mind that.” He’d started up the front walk, dragging me with him.

We’d gone up the steps to the front door which he opened with a skeleton key (naturally). The immediate interior was a large foyer decorated appropriately in black, white and red. I noted this in passing, wondering vaguely why these whackos had such small imaginations and a total lack of decorating sense, but the greater part of my thinking was about what was upsetting Ryland so much. I mean, it’s not like I’d let out some deep secret about modern vampires. Hell, I didn’t know any, except the annoying prick who’d turned me, and even he was still a big mystery to me.

He pulled me to a set of double doors on one side of the foyer where he stopped, hissed at me to stay quiet, and executed some odd secret-signal knock on its surface. Right as I was asking myself where Spanky and Alfalfa were, the door opened.

What stood there could never have been mistaken for one of the Little Rascals. A woman, whose age was even more indeterminate than Rylands, stood back and frowned down at us. That’s correct. Down. She was well over six feet tall, had pure white hair that fell straight almost to her waist, alabaster, fragile-looking skin and eyes that glittered like highly-polished marcasite. She was dressed in a close-fitting dress that went to the floor, and was thin in a really, really, really creepy way. Her face would have been beautiful were it not more skull than human. I nearly wet myself.

“Cardana,” said Ryland, bowing. “I bring our newest child, who has become somewhat difficult.”

The woman – or whatever the hell she was – leaned down a fraction to stare into my eyes, her own narrowing. “Difficult?” The word was a whisper, a harsh one, that slid past my eardrums like sandpaper. “How are you being difficult, little wormling?”

Awesome. From “sweet lady” to “wormling.” Yeah, she and I were going to get along famously… “I’m not sure,” I answered, my own voice sounding like that of a petulant two-year-old, further horrifying me. What the hell?!

“Let us talk.” She turned away and we entered the room. I was surprised to realize that Ryland was as hesitant to follow as I was, and perversely, this gave me strength.

Ever watch a horror movie where the main character is walking along a hallway or something, and as he or she is going, it lights up enough to see what’s a few feet ahead, growing dark again as soon as that particular spot is left behind? That’s what this was like. I knew we were in a large room – could sense the space around me – but all I could see was the carpet in front of my feet, and peripheral glances of furniture and such that would become momentarily illuminated as I passed. The rest remained in deep shadow, and those terrifying shadows closed tightly behind us a we walked. A moment or two later, we could see Cardana again (what kind of name was that?), who had stopped and was facing us once more.

As soon as we halted a few feet in front of her, the shadows blew back into the walls, exposing the room’s occupants and contents. Others who looked more like Ryland were standing about, a few sitting, the furnishings sumptuous but very old. One or two, maybe more (I didn’t try very hard to seek them out), were of the same type and form as Carnata. None of either type was smiling.

“Dear Ryland has brought a New Turning to us. He claims this child, this wormling, is somehow being difficult. I would have him explain this to us all.” She hadn’t looked directly at anyone in particular, her disattached stare making her seem blind.

Ryland, still holding my hand, stood a bit straighter, the prisoner facing the judge for his sentencing. “She will not feed. Instead, she has gone to a hospital and revealed her state.”

A rustling as some vampires moved closer, hisses, glares, and I knew this was not information they wanted to hear.

“Being human,” Ryland continued, “they would not conclude the obvious, and this- ” He released me, shoving me in front of himself with clear contempt. “This stubborn creature did not tell them how she came to be as she is, but did request treatment. They studied her, they tested her, and in the end, they agreed to feed her.”

And this is bad, how? I wanted to ask.

“They will begin looking for others like her,” said one vampire who approached me from the left. He wrinkled his nose and poked me in the arm.

“Hey!”

“Why did you do this?” asked another, fury in his expression.

“I was hungry?”

“You could have fed the way you are supposed to feed, stupid creature!”

Okay. That did it. “There’s no ‘supposed to’ unless I had chosen to be this way, you moron! I was given no choice, so now I’m choosing how to surive, and if you don’t like it, you can go screw yourself!” As soon as I said that, I recognized that it might not have been a very smart move.

Muttering. The sound of angrily muttering vampires is totally surreal. The sound grew, a crescendo of weirdness that was also frightening in the extreme. Were they going to tear me apart? Crap. They began as one to move toward me, enclosing me in a circle of death. Looked like I was going to die again, this time permanently, so I stood my ground, determined to remain defiant – and stubborn – to the end.

Humans can’t hear dog-whistles. Vampires can. The piercing, painful noise stopped everyone cold, and I covered my ears to block it out, tears in my tightly-closed eyes. Then it stopped and I faced the direction from which it had come – Cardana. I expected to see her holding one of the damnable things near her mouth, but saw something unexpected and shiver-inducing instead.

Her arms were straight at her sides, her head raised, her mouth still open. The sound – what I’d assumed was a dog whistle – had come from her own throat.

She lowered her head, closed her mouth, and scowled at us. “Fools!” She came a step closer to me and put a bony hand on my head. “Ryland failed to keep her close, forcing her to find her own way. She was too recently alive to know better, and should have been instructed.” She put out her other hand, and with the nail of its index finger, slashed Ryland’s throat. “Drink, darlings,” she said, nodding at the crowd. “This is his punishment. Perhaps he will be more careful next time.”

In an instant, the other vampires had carried Ryland to the floor where they knelt over and on him, taking turns drinking from his open neck. Gross, gross, gross….maybe I could have just a sip?...Ack! What was I thinking?

“Your name, wormling.” Carnada was whispering right into my ear this time.

“Eleana.”

She smiled, revealing an entire mouthful of sharp teeth, not only the assumed two. “You are clever. You give me hunger.” She took me by the shoulders and leaned down. “I like you, beautiful wormling, and must taste you.” Before I could protest or try to pull away, her mouth was on the side of my throat, all those needle-sharp teeth piercing my skin, and in a sudden wave of delirium, my knees buckled and I felt myself swaying into her embrace…..