“Izz it now?” He presses those sickly pale hands together and wiggles his long fingers like a hungry witch about to bake a plump child.
“Yes. I have missed our poetry-slam Fridays together.” I stare at the floor in submission, just as he made me do for him not so long ago.
“Liar. Why are you really here? I want to hear you say it,” he says.
I look up to meet his sadistic, delighted gaze. He knows he has me right where he wants me.
It takes every ounce of womanly strength I possess to gather up my pride, roll it into a sticky ball, and swallow it down. “I’m here because Michael is injured, and I don’t know what to do. He’s only got minutes to live.”
Nice narrows his eyes, and I can’t tell if he’s insulted that I’d dare ask for help or if he’s preparing to scheme.
“Look,” I say, “I know you’re unhappy about the way things ended between us, but you got your revenge. You turned me, and now my life will never be the same. We’re even.” I don’t actually believe that. Nice used my daughter as leverage so I’d be his companion. “But now, I’m here of my own free will. So tell me what you want.”
“Vant?” One corner of his mouth twists up.
“Yes, want. Just tell me how to save Michael.”
“Miriam, no!” Lula whispers.
Nice shoots her a displeased look.
“I mean,” Lula adds with a sweet tone, “that you and I are together now, Nicee-poo. So just help the stupid librarian and send her on her way.”
Nice’s wolfish smile tells me he has other thoughts. “So, Miriam, choo weel come back to me and stay this time? Forever?”
My stomach knots and raises a Jolly Roger flag. Death awaits you! Go no further! But I have to do this. Like Michael said, this is bigger than him or me—me being the part of this equation that isn’t going to change thousands of lives, for people who were never meant to live as a vampire.
“If you save Michael, then yes,” I raise my chin and look Nice in the eyes, “I will be yours forever.” All that matters is Michael survives and finishes making the cure.
“And how do I know choo veel not go back on your word, eeeh?” Nice asks.
God, I really wish he’d put some clothes on. It would make giving myself up to Satan so much easier. Lula isn’t helping either, since she’s shaking her head behind Nice’s back, telling me not to do this.
“You know I’ll keep my word because,” I swallow down my dying dreams of a good life, a life filled with love, family, and books, “because I give you my word as a librarian. And you know how seriously we take words.”
His eyes flicker with doubt.
“Please?” I revert to begging. “Please do something to help him. He hasn’t got much time.”
“Very well.” Nice flicks his boney wrist in the air. “We have a deal. But if you go back on it, I will burn down your library.”
It’s already destroyed. “Sure. Okay.”
He adds, “And I will hunt you down, disembowel you, and take Stella to raise as my own.”
Crap. Not good. My heart aches just thinking about her living with him, but I have to do this. “I understand.”
“Zen we have a deal!” He pops over to their mini-fridge in the corner, next to the fake palm. He produces two bags of blood and goes over to Michael on the bed. He bites into the first bag, sucks up a bunch of blood into his cheeks, and then presses his mouth to Michael’s and blows.
“Wait. That’s it?” All I had to do was feed him like a baby bird?
I watch Nice repeat the action until both bags have been pushed down Michael’s throat. Instantly, I see color returning to Michael’s cheeks.
“Will he be okay now?” I ask.
Nice tosses the empty bags into the wastepaper basket by the nightstand. “He veel need more blood. Maybe another six or eight feedings throughout the night. By morning, he will be completely healed.”
I glance over at Lula, who, if she feels anything for my incredibly stupid move, is hiding it well. If only I’d known or thought of trying to force-feed him.
Nice looks at Lula and stands. “Now, I must dress. We mustn’t be late to zee the show. Lula, please go out and bring back an extra-large snack for our friend Michael here.”
“But I still haven’t done my makeup,” she whines.
“You will not be attending the show. Miriam will.”
Must the nightmare start so soon?
“Sure. Okay. I’ll take care of it.” Lula points to the closet. “Miriam, borrow whatever you like.”
I nod with gratitude and manage to produce a sad little smile. “Thanks.”
“And now, I must prepare!” Nice zips off to the bathroom. I immediately hear the whirring sound of a hairdryer.
Lula’s face fills with pity—brows knitted, lips turned down. “Why the hell didn’t you call me? I could have told you what to do.”
“We had to chuck our phones.” I sigh. “Someone’s been tracking us—a human. They blew up my library while Michael and I were in it. We barely escaped. Then they followed us here and shot Michael with a bow.”
Lula arches a blonde brow. “Human. And you don’t know who that could possibly be?” Her tone is all condescension.
“No. I don’t have any enemies.”
“The person’s a Keeper, Miriam.”
That doesn’t add up. She must be mistaken. “I thought they were all dead.” Clive killed them off before the Uprising. He killed my parents, too. He wanted to exterminate anyone who could possibly resist a global vampire takeover. The irony is that Clive created the Keepers. And then he just threw them out like trash when he changed his mind about protecting humankind.
“Apparently Clive missed one,” says Lula.
“I don’t think so,” I say. And even if the person was a Keeper, there are tons of other, more powerful vampires higher up on their kill list. I mean, I get why they’d go after Michael, but not
