Twice Bitten Read Free

you promise to stay here all night. You must make sure you do. If he decides he can’t abide by this, then he leaves alone. Am I clear?” 
    His face flushed as he said this. It was as if whatever blood he carried in his veins suddenly rushed to his cheeks, sending also a surge of anger that further ignited his eyes. I could scarcely concentrate enough to formulate an answer, shaking my head to avert the spell of his words infecting my thoughts.
    “I-I don’t know if I can promise that,” I told him, feeling defiance rise against a hostile takeover of my will. “It’s my birthday, and we’ve been planning tonight’s dinner date since last week.  Peter’s gone to a great deal of trouble—“
    “We are out of time!” he interrupted me, glancing at the door again. “So, you leave me no choice.”
    In the instant that followed, he suddenly disappeared. At least, it seemed like he did. I felt something warm on the left side of my neck. The warmth soon became painful, two pinpricks that felt as if little knives were digging into my jugular vein. Then I heard the window’s latch unclick and click shut again in rapid succession.
    Surprised, I gasped and reached up to where my neck throbbed, like a little girl who just got stung by a wasp or venomous spider. Wetness grazed my fingers. When I brought my shaking hand before my eyes, there was blood.  It dripped down my fingers.
    Just then, Peter’s familiar knock rapped upon my door.
    “I’m coming!” I called to him, trying to sound as unalarmed as possible. 
    Garvan was nowhere to be found. The slight sway in the curtains wasn’t enough to prevent me from checking under the bed and in my closet. I began to feel weak and woozy. Feeling a wave of sudden nausea, I worried our dinner date was really going to suck!
    “I’ll be there in a minute…. I’m just getting my shoes on!” I said, more plaintive after Peter’s second knock, the loudness revealing his irritation. But I had to look. I needed to see what caused the pain and my blood to drip down my neck.
    I stumbled over to the mirror Tyreen and I share. Two small streams trickled down the left side of my neck, threatening to spill onto my dress. Luckily, the black wool would keep it from being immediately noticeable—even to Peter’s keen eyes. But what happened when I wiped a Kleenex over the twin wounds astonished me even more. 
    There were no punctures in the skin. No seepage, just fiery redness. The redness was brightest above a pair of birthmarks. ‘Little pink teardrops’ is what my Grandmother often called them. Like the tears tattooed beneath the eyes of the gang leaders in Richmond’s low-rent district, though not as dark in color. Now they were inflamed, tender to the touch.
    But still no blood.
    I looked back at the deep crimson streaks in the tissue I held, trying to make sense of what just happened. Meanwhile, Peter’s urgent knocks grew faint….distant. Then, the world around me went black.
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 3
     
     
    I ’m not sure how long I was out. When I gradually came to, I heard Peter’s voice…getting gradually louder.
    “Txema…Txema? Shit, I think she’s waking up.”  
    His image was hazy, but I could tell he was looking at Tyreen and her boyfriend, Johnny, as he said this. He sounded shaken, and the concern in his voice touched me…pulling me out of a dark cold place I’d fallen into. I’m not sure that I landed anywhere, just that I was immersed in a sea of thick blackness. At one point, I felt constricted and unable to move. Held fast in close confines, it felt as if a coffin that was too small for my build.
    I remembered then the whispered voices that were talking back and forth. It was too difficult to understand the words, although the accent and cadence sounded French…and maybe a little Spanish. There were several of these voices, and most of them were male. As they spoke, the constriction lifted. Drifting on my back, softness now caressed me, as