In the center of his face, I saw that his normally hypnotic eyes had been affected as well. Gone was that rich almost-black color, washed away by a milky pale green that nearly matched the whites of his eyes. Something in them looked completely wild, feral even, and they started a shudder in me that rippled throughout my entire body. Though I was afraid, I continued to watch Bo, unable to tear my eyes away from the window.
Bo moved, arching his back and letting his head fall back on his shoulders. He let out an agonizing howl that had the tendons in his neck straining beneath his bizarre skin. With a moan that bordered on a cry, he raised his right hand to his mouth. Bearing four elongated teeth, two on the top and two on the bottom, Bo sank his teeth into what looked like a bag of blood he’d been holding.
I watched in nauseous horror as he made sucking, chewing motions and devoured the contents of the bag, blood dripping off his chin and falling onto the towel. He closed his eyes. Pleasure was written all over his face, belied only by the trace frown that pinched his brows together, as if he was resented the euphoria, wanted to resist it.
My breath was coming in shallow pants and I felt a fearful sweat break out on my forehead. My heartbeat throbbed in my ears and pounded behind my eyes. I wanted to look away, but it was like watching a train wreck—I couldn’t not watch. I was frozen, rooted to the spot where I peeped through the curtains.
Just when I thought for sure I was going to throw up, Bo quieted and his eyes snapped open. He turned his head a few degrees and looked right at me. I’m certain the surprise in his eyes mirrored the shock in my own, right before sheer panic set in.
Frozen no more, I turned and bolted up the steps. Behind me, I heard the sounds of the basement door opening and Bo bounding up the stairs behind me, but I didn’t look back. I ran for all I was worth.
It seemed like it took me ten minutes to get to my car, though it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. My mad dash wasn’t fast enough, though. When I opened the car door, Bo was standing in front of the hood, chest heaving, staring at me.
“Ridley, let me explain.”
His voice was gravelly, like his throat was dry. I thought of the previous night and I shivered.
“Stay away from me,” I shouted, slamming the door shut and starting the car.
When I flipped on my headlights, it only further illuminated the slick fluid covering Bo’s body. With trembling hands, I jammed the shifter into reverse and sped backward down his driveway and out into the street.
On the way home, my mind raced incoherently. By the time I arrived at my house, instead of being less freaked out, I’d worked myself up into a bigger tizzy. I was convinced that Bo was some kind of evil, blood-sucking mass murderer that was on a killing spree and would now be coming after me.
The strange thing is that, all the while I was concocting terrible back stories for Bo, my heart yearned for him, my body ached for him. I didn’t understand how my emotions and my body could be so disastrously disconnected from my head, from logic and rational thought.
Shouting a quick “I’m back” to Mom and Dad, I bypassed the living room and went straight to the bathroom. The mirror showed me that I’d cried on the way home. I hadn’t been aware of any tears falling, but my swollen eyes and red face promised me they had.
I splashed cold water over my eyes and cheeks, wishing it was cold enough to numb the growing devastation I felt.
When I walked into my bedroom and shut the door behind me, the first thing I noticed was that it smelled of Bo. I was instantaneously filled with trepidation. I reached back for the knob, starting to twist it and run. My body was wired and readied for escape when a voice broke the stillness. Despite my inner turmoil, it flowed over my frazzled nerves like raw silk.
“Ridley, please let me explain.”
Even in the darkness, I could plainly see him standing outside my open bedroom window, looking nothing like the person, the thing, I’d seen only minutes prior. Though he made no move toward me, I was still afraid of him. The screen was in place, but I knew it would provide very little protection if he decided to come in after me.
“If you don’t leave this very second, I swear I’ll go screaming out that door and call the police,” I said warningly. The slight waver of my voice gave me away, however, a blatant indication that my bravado was superficial at best.
“Just give me—”
“I mean it, Bo,” I declared, my voice rising as I pushed the words through my tight lips.
“Don’t you—”
“I’m going,” I said, turning to open the door.
“Wait, Ridley.”
“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”
His next words caused my hand to still on the knob and my heart to constrict painfully inside my chest.
“I’m dying, Ridley.”
CHAPTER SIX
“What?”
I could eek out no more than a whisper. My throat and my lungs failed me. I thought, I prayed, that my ears had failed me, too. Deceived me. Although at the moment I was terrified and confused by what I’d seen, it hadn’t seemed to affect the way I felt about Bo deep down. Apparently, my heart hadn’t gotten the memo.
“I’m dying,” he repeated softly, sadly.
A crushing tide of devastation swept in to wash away the fear and disappointment I’d been feeling. Its violent current nearly erased all traces of the creature I’d seen only moments before, leaving only traces of a strange sickness that threatened the life of someone I didn’t want to live without.
Slowly, I turned to face him. On the one hand, I was hesitant to believe him, especially after having seen him drinking blood.
“You could be lying,” I pointed out.
“But I’m not.”
“But I wouldn’t know.”
“Yes, you would.”
On the other hand, I wanted desperately for it to be true, if for no other reason than that it meant he wasn’t a monster. It just wouldn’t be right, wouldn’t be normal, to fall in love with a monster.
But if he wasn’t a monster, then that meant he was dying. As the room slanted this way and that, tilting all around me, I realized that it would be far better to fall in love with a monster than to lose Bo altogether.