Whatever false calmness Irina had, it didn’t last long. By the time James shut his bedroom door, she was crying again. “It’s going to be okay, it’s going to be okay,” he murmured, drying the tears with one hand and inspecting her wound though the hole in her shirt with the other. “Here, let’s sit on the bed, okay?” He guided Irina to his bed, where she sat obediently, one hand pressed against hard the wound. James sat next to her.
“So stupid,” she gasped after she had mostly stopped crying, “I was so –”
“It wasn’t your fault,” James cut in. Then he sighed and said, “Here, take your shirt off. We need to stop the bleeding before you pass out.”
Feeling extremely self-conscious, Irina did so, becoming quite ungraceful in the process. She felt a little better when she saw that the actual wound didn’t extend down to her breast and she’d be able to keep her bloody bra on. She dropped her shirt on the floor by her feet and brushed her hair to her right shoulder, away from the blood.
Things were kind of fuzzy, unreal, now. She wasn’t sure why – it was probably James’s doing, though, with a little help from the blood loss – but it didn’t really bother her much. Nothing really bothered her much, not even James licking at her shoulder, cleaning up the blood. The sedative in his saliva partially healed the skin – well, it stopped the bleeding at least – and took away some of the pain that Irina didn’t really feel anymore.
When he was done, most of the dizziness – it was definitely James’s fault – disappeared. Irina leaned back so she was lying on the bed, trying to make sense of her messy thoughts.
“I’m a mess,” she finally said. “I’m tired.” After a minute, she added, frowning, “And I think I need a shirt.”
James, who was now sitting on the floor somewhere by her feet, laughed once. “Wait here,” he said. “I’m going to go get a washcloth so you can clean up.”
Irina didn’t look as he pulled a sweatshirt on, then got up and left, closing the door quietly behind him. Instead, she dragged her lower half onto the bed and lay there, too overcome by a sudden dizziness to get under the comforter. After a minute, though, the dizziness passed and she took off her clothes. Then she waited another minute to get enough energy to wiggle under the covers.
Finally, she dozed off.
Only to be awoken a minute later by a strangely insistent James.
“What is it?” she asked, feeling cheated. She wanted to go back to sleep. She could wipe the stickiness away later...
“We need to make the Bride Pact now.”
“Oh.”
Suddenly, things mattered now – Cassandra, Amy, Celine, Marie, Allen, James. Herself.
“Allen’s caught up to Cassandra now. Frederick ran away. If we do it now, I can go help Allen and make sure your friends are safe.”
“Oh.”
Irina took a moment to think about her and James. She thought about the good things, locked the bad things in boxes and stored them far away, deep down enough that they wouldn’t come back for a very long time – or at least long enough to successfully make the Bride Pact. She was willing... or at least not against. No – definitely willing. She had to be.
“Okay,” she said, sitting up. She took the washcloth and wiped it against her neck and shoulder to get rid of the last traces of his saliva while James sat on the bed, his face very close to hers. “What do we do?” she asked, finally looking up and meeting his eyes.
“Just repeat after me.”
If both parties were willing, the Bride Pact would form successfully. If they didn’t care for each other, though, the Pact would create false feelings of devotion in the vampire so he or she wouldn’t abuse the human. The human was unchanged because of course they wouldn’t purposely let the vampire starve, would they? Of course any possible abuse would be to the human, not by them.
James knew this. He knew that after he made the Pact, he would feel a tug to protect Irina and make her happy until he actually fell in love with her. He thought that it just meant he would be more watchful and more helpful, sometimes to an unnecessary extent. He thought he could deal with it. He thought he could imagine what it would be like.
But nothing could have prepared him for what he was currently experiencing.
It was ripping him in half – his completely and totally irrational need to stay by Irina’s side, even when she was unconscious and in absolutely no danger whatsoever, and his need to find Allen and find out why he was home already. What had happened to Cassandra? Had Frederick came back? Were Irina’s friends safe?
But he couldn’t go downstairs and talk to Allen. Irina hadn’t woken up yet. He needed to talk to her, make sure she was okay before he went and did anything. Without her approval to leave, he was stuck by her side. But the Bride Pact prevented him from hating her.
Allen was in the living room, sitting on the couch and talking to Marie now. With his new and improved hearing, James could hear their conversation clearly as he could hear the girl across from the room breathing peacefully.
“What happened?” Marie asked. James imagined her chewing on her bottom lip with worry.
“Frederick came back,” Allen said. His voice wasn’t low enough to disguise the guilt and anger. “He couldn’t stay away from Cassandra it seems, even though she’s such a lying bitch, so in the end they both got away. I followed them to Amy’s house. She was in the woods – you know those ones by Sandalwood Street? – probably waiting for her girlfriend...” His voice trailed off.
“And?” Marie couldn’t help asking the question – she didn’t want to know, but she had to.
“I made sure a neighbor found the body when he let his dog out. He called the cops.”
Marie started to cry, quietly at first, then louder and louder.
