He dropped to his knees beside my body, arms spread as if he didn’t know what to do first. Sadly—though not too sadly, because everything I felt seemed to come through a filter—I realized he wanted to save me.

I wanted to tell him not to bother. It was too much work, and I was just too tired.

The shadows shimmered and pulsed, but they didn’t swarm Nathan the way they had the cat. I didn’t blame them. There was no life in him, no color. Just pale shades of sadness, and we already had those.

Nathan lifted my head in his hands and kissed my dead lips. A tear splashed against my cold skin. It couldn’t have been mine.

The tenderness there made me feel something. Regret?

My new companions beckoned, and I reached out to them. Not with my hands. I had no hands. Neither did they. But they surrounded me, and their embrace was warm and comforting.

Nathan raised his wrist to his mouth and bit down. Dark blood dripped into my slack mouth.

The ghost people wavered and dimmed.

No!

I tried to fight, but piece by piece I came alive again. First I heard sounds more clearly. Then I felt a little pain, and the sensation of hot, sticky blood pooling in the back of my mouth. I swallowed, and the pain grew, until all I felt was agony and hunger.

I closed my lips over his wrist. When I drew more blood into my mouth, a tremor went through him.

“You’re going to be okay,” he rasped.

He held my broken body in his arms.

“I saw them,” I whispered. I drifted away again, but this time there were no lost souls to welcome me.

I was stranded in the darkness.

Twenty-One

Born Again (Not That Way)

I had no concept of time over the course of my recovery. It moved from darkness to light, and not at regular intervals. Sometimes I opened my eyes, but my vision was as soft and unfocused as a newborn’s.

Occasionally, pictures splintered my mind. Some were unrecognizable, but a few were my own memories from a skewed perspective, as if I were watching myself in a movie. In the most frequently occurring flash, I saw my own lifeless body in the alley. It was like a scene in a horror film, and it repeated over and over.

The longer I slept, the worse my hunger grew. When it finally outweighed my fatigue, I woke, cranky and hurting.

Though my memory was fuzzy, I knew I was in Nathan’s bed. His scent was all around me, and my body reacted with surprising ferocity. It demanded I find him.

At first I was afraid to move. I remembered my throat had been cut. With no idea how long I’d been asleep, I didn’t know how much I’d healed. When I touched my neck, I felt only smooth, new skin.

“You’re awake.”

I knew Nathan had entered the room before he spoke. I sensed him. He looked haggard, as if he hadn’t slept in days.