I reach up and touch my neck. The bite has scabbed over and even feels diseased and nasty. “Maverick bit me,” I say. “And then he injected the virus into my bloodstream. He says I’m going to die in a couple of days. Just like all the donors.”
Even in the darkness I can see Jareth’s horror-struck face. “Raynie!” he cries and his voice breaks with emotion. He pulls me into a hug, squeezing me with almost as much strength as Francis. But this hug is one of desperation. “Oh, my darling, no!” he murmurs. “I can’t lose you.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t exactly want to be lost either,” I say wryly.
Jareth pulls away from the hug, his beautiful blue eyes hardened and angry. “Stop making self-protective jokes,” he says. “This is serious. We have to do something.”
“What?” I ask. “There’s no antidote. Face it. In two to three days, I’ll be pushing up daisies.” I know I’m being a bitch, but for some reason I’m unable to let go.
Jareth sighs and pulls me down onto the sand. We sit there a moment, not speaking. “You can be so cold and hard,” he says at last. “Always putting up a brave front so others don’t see your fear. Your vulnerability.”
“Maybe I don’t want others to see my fear and vulnerability. I mean, it’s my fear and vulnerability, right? If I want to keep it inside, then that’s my business.” I kick at the sand with my foot. “Besides, it’s not exactly like you’re Mr. Open Up and Share yourself.”
“You’re right,” Jareth says, staring out into the sea. “You and I are a lot alike in many ways. We both have pain in our pasts, which has caused us to put trust in ourselves and not others. But let me tell you, Rayne, from someone who’s done it for hundreds of years: It’s not a great way to live. And it never gets less lonely.” He sighs deeply, lying back into the sand and staring up at the stars. “I never told you why I don’t want a blood mate.”
I turn to look at him, surprised. This, I was not expecting. Is he ready to spill his deep dark secret at last?
“No,” I say slowly. “You never have.”
Jareth goes silent. At first I’m almost positive he’s not going to speak—that he changed his mind already. But then he opens his mouth.
“Most vampires are turned individually,” he says. “But for me, my whole family was vampire.”
“Really?” I ask. “That’s so cool.”
“Yes,” he agrees. “You see, my parents and my brother and sister and I were living as peasants in England back during the Black Plague. Terrible time. All our neighbors were dying. The graves were full. You can’t imagine the stench of bodies just rotting in the streets, the sulfur from the burnings. We prayed to God that he would rescue us. That he would spare our lives. Well, God sent a dark messenger that day.
“The vamp Runez had come to feed on the sick. Vampires couldn’t catch the plague and so it became a good place to feed, without hurting anyone. We didn’t have donors back in that day,” Jareth explained. “Runez came across my family, huddled in our little hut. Exhausted, hungry, and scared. But not sick. He knew we would soon catch it and suffer terrible deaths. I was eighteen. My little sister was ten and my little brother only four. The vampire felt bad for us and offered us a choice. Immortal life or certain death.” Jareth smiled. “Of course, you can guess what we chose.”
“So he turned all of you? Isn’t that against the rules?” From what I’d read, vamps can only turn one person during their lifetime. Keeps them from having blood shortages like the Red Cross.
“Things were much less organized back then. Vampires roamed the earth, alone and hungry. There were no covens or political parties. We didn’t incorporate ’til the early eighteenth century.”
“Oh, okay,” I say. Interesting. I wonder what (or who) made them all band together. “So then what happened?”
“At first things were great. The five of us escaped the plague and traveled from village to village, taking money from the dead. It sounds terrible, I know. But it was just lying there. Of no use to anyone. Except us. We ended up with enough gold to buy a small castle in southeastern Britain. We bought titles and everyone assumed we were some kind of eccentric royalty. It was then that I trained to be a sculptor. I spent my days carving intricate stone statues to sell to castle courtyards and churches. And since I had eternity to perfect my art, I became quite good. My work can be seen all over Europe, even today.
“In any case, everything had turned out better than our wildest dreams. And best of all, we had each other. A family for eternity. At night we’d gather in the great hall and play games and laugh and laugh.” He pauses for a moment, releasing a small sigh. “Sometimes I think I can still hear my sister’s giggle, reverberating through a hall.”
I smile, thinking of my own family. My silly, hippie-dippy mom, my determined, hard-working sister. If I’d become a vampire I’d totally have wanted to make it a family affair like Jareth did. That way I’d get to keep the people I love around forever.
But Jareth’s story, I’m beginning to think, doesn’t have such a happy ending.
“Go on,” I urge. “What happened next?”
“We lived together for centuries, moving around every few years, as not to arouse the suspicions of the locals. After all, we never grew old. I could, at least, pass for a man, having been turned at eighteen, but my sister and brother were forever children. People began to wonder. And then we’d move.” He smiled sadly. “Moving could be tough, but we always had each other. That’s all that mattered.”