Let me pack up a few things. I’ll be over in an hour.”

“I’ll come over, too,” Lucy agreed, “but I don’t know about spending the whole night there. I don’t want to leave Aaron alone for too long.” In truth, she didn’t want to leave him at all, but she knew it was unavoidable if she wanted to help him. Before heading out, she stopped by the bedroom to check on him one more time.

Aside from the icy coldness and unnatural pallor of his skin, he seemed alright. He was still breathing, and when Lucy touched his wrist, feeling for his pulse, it was strong. His eyes flickered back and forth underneath his eyelids, but he didn’t seem distressed. He looked like he was just enjoying a quick, peaceful nap. If only, Lucy thought, sitting down next to him. She took a moment to admire how handsome he looked lying there, dozing, and to consider how often she’d fantasized about having him here, in her bed, although never in a million years would she have anticipated such bizarre circumstances as these.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” she murmured to him. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you.” She brushed her hand through his hair and laid a gentle kiss on his cheek, noting how his beard hadn’t grown at all since he’d shaved. She peeled the bandage, which she’d been replacing daily, away from his neck, and checked his wounds. The puncture marks looked smaller and less angry than before, as if they were healing over. Was that good, she wondered? Maybe it meant he was getting better. She dabbed some Neosporin on the holes and covered them back up. Then she hopped in her car and drove over to Dara’s place feeling slightly less apprehensive than before.

She felt even more encouraged when she stepped across Dara’s threshold and saw how normal everything inside her apartment looked. If she hadn’t known any better, she might’ve guessed her friend only looked so wrung out as she greeted her because she’d stayed up too late watching television, and not because, like Lucy, she had a nascent vampire hibernating in her back bedroom.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Jessica said, coming up the stairs right after Lucy. “I guess Jason really has done alright for himself. This place is so swanky.” She dropped a pink and gray striped backpack on the carpet and glanced around. Her eyes grew round, and Lucy understood her awe. The luxury apartment Dara shared with her husband was spacious and elegant, with vaulted ceilings and plush carpeting. The decorations were spare, and the furnishings simple in design, but everything looked well-made and expensive. A huge barn wood picture frame loomed above the fireplace, displaying a professional wedding portrait in which Dara and her husband, Jason, held each other close and gazed lovingly at one another with radiant smiles.

“He’s always taken good care of me,” Dara said in her bashful voice. She’d forgone wearing any makeup today and had swept her cloud of Titian curls back into a ponytail. Despite her fatigue, she looked younger now than when she’d first come into the bookstore the other night, even more like the fresh-faced teenager Lucy remembered from their high school days. “Why don’t you guys come into the kitchen,” she said, gesturing. “I’ll get us some drinks.”

“Oh, great,” Jessica headed in that direction, “I could really go for a highball. Especially one made with the sort of classy booze I’m guessing you’ve got stashed around here.”

Dara’s eyebrows rose. “I was thinking more like green tea, or maybe some coffee.” Seeing Jessica’s disappointment, she flashed a small, exhausted smile and amended, “But honestly, a whiskey and soda sounds so much better. Lucy, what’s your poison?”

Lucy, no connoisseur of alcoholic drinks, just asked for the same thing.

While Dara poured the drinks for them, Jessica and Lucy wandered around her kitchen. Jessica’s curious gaze landed on a cluster of photos tacked to a bulletin board hanging beside the massive stainless-steel refrigerator. Tapping a shot of Dara and Jason, smiling and hugging against some gorgeous, tree-covered backdrop, she blurted, “Your husband’s really cute, Dara.”

Amusement crossed Dara’s wan face as she screwed the cap back on the Real Spirits Signature Whiskey bottle. “Um, thanks-?”

Lucy smiled. “Where did the two of you meet?”

“At work.” Dara poured club soda into each of the glasses. She smiled as she told them about Jason coming to her rescue again and again as an IT version of a heroic knight. Then clouds darkened her eyes again, and she added, “Jason was the first real friend I ever had, you know. The only person I’ve ever felt totally comfortable around?”

Lucy was surprised by the lonely note in her voice. “You were always so popular back in school,” she pointed out.

Dara pushed a cut glass tumbler across the island toward each of them. “People were attracted to my looks,” she said flatly. “So they hung around me a lot. Most of them didn’t care to look much beyond the surface, though. And the few guys I dated before Jason…well, let’s just say they didn’t understand what I wanted in a relationship. I had…quirks I felt I needed to hide.”

As Lucy picked up her drink, she caught Jessica rolling her eyes, but thankfully Dara didn’t seem to notice.

“You have no idea some of the stuff Jason and I have been through together,” Dara went on, still in that flat voice. “A few years ago, my purse got snatched in a parking garage. The mugger jumped me in the stairwell, punched me in the face, and knocked me down the steps. The fall broke my arm.” She drew a tremulous breath as she touched her elbow. “I was already an introvert with a few low-grade anxiety issues, but after that…well, let’s just say it’s taken a lot of counseling and quite a bit of time for me to get better. In some ways, I still haven’t.” Her gaze flicked to the photos on the

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