Page 45 of Tainted Souls
“This is friendship,” Haden corrects from my desk by the window, playing a video game. His silhouette is outlined against the bright city lights, accompanied by a backdrop of skyscrapers. “We thought you might need company.”
Evan continues his showcase, gesturing to the living space they have commandeered. “We even got you bliskey, the bread and butter of your diet, and those weird plasma berries you like.”
I plop a handful of berries into my mouth before loading the blodas into the fridge. I leave out one can, pour it over ice, and take a few swigs. “I could use some alone time, to be honest.”
Evan sits up to make room for me on the couch. “You disappeared for two days, ignored our texts, and think we’re going to leave you all alone and depressed after that?”
“Yes.” I sink into the couch beside him. “It’s this thing called respecting my boundaries.”
“Never heard of that.” Evan swaps the bloda in my hand for a glass of amber liquid. “Drink. You look like you came straight from hell.”
“Thanks.” I down the contents of the glass in one swallow. “Just what every girl wants to hear.” The alcohol burns pleasantly, drowning out the guilt coursing through me for destroying Max’s life.
I place my glass on the table, fish my phone out of my pocket, and turn it on, squinting at the bright display in my dimly lit apartment. Multiple notifications come in all at once. “And for the record, my phone was off. I wasn’t ignoring you.”
Evan shrugs, gesturing that it’s fine. “Wanna talk about it?”
“About what?” I ask, feigning ignorance, my stomach making hungry noises. “And give me my bloda back.” I forcefully take it from his hand.
“Marcus knows a nurse at the medical center,” Haden says, his eyes locked on the screen in front of him. “She said Max got turned. What the hell happened?”
My jaw clenches. They weren’t supposed to find out this fast. Not before I’d have time to process it myself. But news travels fast in Penn City, especially when it involves vampires.
I lean my head back and stare at the ceiling. “After I went to talk with him outside—yes, it was him knocking—we got attacked. Somewhere in the midst of it all, he was bitten. I don’t know why. His sire offered to trade her blood in return for me. General Lee gathered a team, we traveled to Blackham, the trade went well, until the Ravens showed up again out of nowhere and killed everyone except me. There’s not much more to it than what the public already knows. I’ve been at the hospital with Max all day.”
They both stare at me, unblinking, visibly processing the condensed version of the story.
“Wow,” Evan blurts out.
“How is he?” asks Haden, concern etched onto his face as his head pokes out around the corner.
“Physically? Fine. Mentally?” I shake my head. “He’s struggling, to say the least. And his friends just showed up to remind him what a mistake it was getting involved with me in the first place.”
“The vampire-hating trio,” Evan snorts. “What do those pretentious assholes know?”
“Apparently enough to predict that dating me would end with Max becoming a vampire,” I say bitterly, the sound of their voices still fresh in my head.
“That’s bullshit,” says Evan. “What happened to Max could have happened to anyone in this city. It wasn’t your fault.”
“That’s what I’m saying.” Haden joins us on the couch. “Thirty-six others were turned too, after all. Completely random.”
A part of me agrees with them, yet doubt gnaws at me. “What if he blames me? What if he can’t forgive me for what happened?”
“Then he’s not the man you thought he was,” Evan says simply.
The room falls silent as his words sink in. I don’t argue back. Beating myself up over something I know I don’t have full control over is tiring enough. I’ve spent five years building a life with Max, crafting a version of myself that fits neatly into his world. Now that world has shattered, and I’m not sure either of us knows how to navigate the pieces.
Evan thrusts another drink into my hand. “You’re thinking too much.”
I take a sip of what’s yet another bliskey, then pass it on to Haden. “I’m going to clean myself up.”
“Make it quick,” says Evan as he kicks my butt with his foot. “We’re going to watch movies. Bad ones. The kind that are so terrible they’re good.”
Haden groans. “I voted for something with actual plot, but was overruled.”
I find myself smiling. There’s something comforting about the simplicity of all this. No VR headsets, no neural interfaces, no immersive simulation pods that Max and his friends are always dragging me to. Just actual movies on a screen, like old times.
“What will it be?” Evan asks, ticking off on his fingers. “Zombies, pirates, or cowboys?”
