Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Stark came over and dipped his ear over Jimmie’s chest. “I’m afraid he won’t last that long.” Stark raised his wrist to his mouth and bit down. Two small pools of blood formed on his skin.
“What are you doing?”
“Saving him.” Stark made it sound like no big deal. Just making a sandwich here, woman. Want pickles? Mayo? Some guac?
“You can’t give him your blood!”
“Do you want him to live or not, Masie?” Stark asked blandly.
Yes, but not as a vampire. “Will giving him your blood turn him?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. It all depends on how close he gets to death, and that will depend on you. Do you wish to keep talking?”
“No. Fine. Do it.” I looked away, not wanting the image of this moment to haunt me forever. I didn’t really understand how one became a vampire, but I had to assume it involved giving a person vampire sauce.
I turned my head just in time to watch Stark’s wrist wounds close. This was insanity.
I covered my mouth, trying not to imagine how awful it would be to see my uncle turned into a strange, bloodthirsty monster. “How long will it take until we know?”
“Again, it depends. If his heart stops before my blood enters the organ, then he will die right away. If his heart is in the midst of a normal, healthy rhythm, he will heal.”
“And if not those two things?” I asked.
“If his heartbeat is erratic, only moments from stopping, he will become like me.”
I winced.
“Do not make that face, Masie Kicklighter. There are worse things in this world than becoming a vampire.”
I clenched my eyes shut. How had this happened? Why Jimmie?
After a few moments, I opened my eyes and stared at Jimmie. “He’s still breathin’.” That was good. It meant Jimmie still had a chance to heal.
I looked up at Stark, praying for a sprinkle of hope.
“Now we wait,” he said, hovering over us. “And do not forget, Masie. You made a promise, and I expect you to keep it no matter the outcome. In the meantime, you should tend to your customers. I will stay here with your uncle. If he rises a vampire, it will happen within the hour, and I will need to restrain him.”
Dear Lord. I dropped my hands. “What about the other…wanderers?”
“I killed two. The third one is down in that hole. But do not worry. I will keep my word and end him. Just as long as you do not double-cross me, Masie.” He bent over slowly. “I want my night with you. Tomorrow.”
That made one of us.
I nodded and got to my feet. “Be forewarned, I’ll be armed. I still don’t trust you.”
“Would not have it any other way.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I tried to tell myself I could embrace Uncle Jimmie as a vampire, that it was better than losing him forever, but as I served the guests and tried to keep a friendly smile on my face, my mind was playing through the reality of that outcome.
He would not be okay with it.
Jimmie was a hardworking man, dedicated to this community and to living life a certain way. Yes, mostly he lived to work instead of the other way around, but he prided himself on being an honorable, self-made person who gave more than he took.
He donated books and supplies to the school. He opened a teen center so the local kids would have a place to hang, do homework, and stay out of trouble. “Small towns are a breeding ground for boredom and mischief,” he’d say. He hired more help than he needed in summer, just so the older teens in town could make a little money and feel the pride of earning a paycheck. Yeah, he made them work their butts off—cleaning, painting, doing inventory, or sterilizing equipment—but I never saw any of those young people, including myself, stirring up trouble.
In short, Uncle Jimmie was a weighty thread that flowed through the fabric of Leiper’s Fork, and becoming someone—or something—other than who he was would not sit well with the man. He would be lost. Angry and bitter, too.
Which was why I felt so guilty. I didn’t care if he woke up healed or a vampire. Any outcome aside from death was fine by me.
I just…need him. It wasn’t only because of my lack of preparedness to run his businesses. Uncle Jimmie was the closest thing to a father I’d had these past ten years. I looked up to him.
“Hey, I can close up, if you want,” Joe said, catching me as I shuffled by with a case of our Screaming Rooster, Double Hot Whiskey to restock the bar. It was the kind that knocked your socks off. Even came with a picture of Big Barney shooting fire from his beak.
“Why?” I asked Joe.
“You look like you’re coming down with something—red and sweaty. Or maybe all the stress? You’ve been workin’ yourself to the bone lately.”