Free Eternal: More Love Stories With Bite by Anthology Page B

lights were bright and they were all on. I slumped against my bedroom door, hyperventilating. My throat throbbed. When I put my hand up to touch the little puncture wounds, my fingers came away wet and red. I sucked on them while I stumbled to the bathroom. I had to pee like damn.

    "Tragic," I whispered around my fingers, and giggled. "I'm so tragic."

    It took a long time before I could stop crying. The divots in my neck stopped bleeding after a little bit, re-scabbed, and I stood in the shower for a long time, shaking and shuddering.

    I tossed the mashed-together chunks of soap in the garbage. Faint bubbles on its wet surface gleamed before they popped.

    Then I went to bed and I dreamed of Chel. Only she was on the riding mower, and she was cutting down banks of bubbles and leaving a river of blood behind her. And when I woke up the next morning, I was still thirsty.

    * * * *
    Consuela flipped the television on. "You eat," she told me, sternly, her eyebrows coming together. "Don't starve yourself, mija."

    I eyed the eggs and potatoes, the bacon, the toast. My stomach turned into a knot and the news came on. I picked up the glass of orange juice. Dad was already at work.

    "—the so-called Schoolgirl Murders," the television said.

    Consuela reached for the knob.

    "Don't!" The orange juice slid from my hand. The glass didn't break, but half of it slopped into my plate and she gave me a reproachful look. "Sorry. I'm sorry."

    She whisked the plate away and the television kept yapping.

    "Again, the chief of police has just issued a statement. Theodore Michael Briggs, a twenty-four-year old handyman in the Valley, has just been charged with the Schoolgirl Murders." The screen filled with a mug shot of a dark-haired man with a narrow face. He didn't look anything like Jack, really, but his hair was dark and curly and he was skinny.

    Consuela started mopping up the orange juice. I stared at the television screen.

    "The murders have held the entire city in a grip of fear," the blonde anchorwoman intoned as the picture shrank and retreated to the upper right-hand corner of the screen. "Police arrested Briggs in the company of a young girl from St. Mary's Academy, where two of the victims attended school. The girl's parents are calling it a narrow escape—"

    "Mija ?" Consuela said softly.

    "A source close to the investigation says Briggs was found with several items belonging to the victims, including four cell phones—"

    "Holy fuck," I whispered, and slid off my stool. Consuela called my name, sharply, but I was already at the back door and running for the shed.

    When I got there the door was open, and there was a dark stain on the cement floor. But no stake.

    And no body. The shed was hot, airless—and empty.

    * * * *
    The wind is up. It mouths at the edges of the house and the air-conditioning is working overtime. It's a fall heat wave, ninety degrees in the shade and no hope of a break for a while. And with the wind, well, everyone's crazy. The news was full of rapes, fires, other stuff.

    "At least they caught that bastard," Dad said before he kissed my cheek and went out for another partner dinner. Consuela fussed at me. I tried eating, ran upstairs and threw it all up afterward. I didn't even fucking care.

    I'm sitting on my bed, staring at the window. Sunlight is draining out of the sky. The wind moans, and moans. The two little wounds on my throat are pulsing-hot. The inside of my throat is on fire, and part of why I ran upstairs after dinner is because I could hear Consuela's heart working, each chamber throbbing open and clapping shut.

    I could smell the blood in her veins.

    It smells good. Even now, upstairs, with my door closed and the lights on, it smells so good.

    It's almost night. They expect the Santa Anas to blow themselves out soon. I have my hands knotted together into fists. I'm waiting. My entire body aches.

    I should have said no. Jesus Christ, I should have said no.

    I'm