I needed to scream, but I couldn't push sounds out of my throat. I drew in short, empty breaths as panic pulsed through my veins. I wanted to slam my fists into the walls and shatter them. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision.

I needed oxygen.

"He looks like he's going to explode," Jen said to Clara before turning back to me. "Aaron, hey, calm down. It's going to be okay. It's not a death sentence."

"Oh right, right." I let out a hysterical laugh. "I forgot, you all live forever, don't you?"

"That's false," Jen said. "Whether or not it prolongs lifespan is debated, but vampirism certainly doesn't make you immortal."

"What about mirrors?" I pushed my hands back through my hair and paced. "Am I going to stop being able to see myself in those?" My eyes shot back to Clara and Jen. "Will I have to sleep in a coffin? How about garlic? Will I die if I get too close to an Italian restaurant? Can I turn into a bat?"

"Stop being ridiculous and calm the fuck down!" Jen snapped. Her hands twitched, and she balled them into tight fists as she clenched her jaw. She probably wanted to slap me in the face.

I probably needed it.

"Hey, maybe some fresh air would help," Clara suggested.

I exhaled a few times and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Fine, fine." I nodded. "Fresh air."

Clara led me out to the balcony and closed the door gently behind us. I leaned over the railing and stared out at the city below. Icy rain pelted down from the pitch-black sky, slamming against the roof overhang. It rushed off the corners in streams and plummeted four stories to the sidewalk below where it formed tiny rivers in the cobblestones.

I was so angry, I felt acid rising up my throat. I breathed in a few heavy, frozen breaths in an attempt to keep myself from throwing up. I'd been so stupid. How had I thought there was a way to reverse this? I'd just been lying to myself the whole time, trying to convince myself that I hadn't ruined my entire life.

"I'm sorry," Clara finally broke the silence. She stood next to me, looking down over the edge of the ornate, black railing.

"It's not your fault." I ground my teeth together, and my gums pulsed with a dull but oddly soothing pain. "I'm sorry for freaking out."

"It's understandable. It's a lot to take in." She paused for a second, and I listened to the drum of the rain. "I know Jen is a bit abrasive, but she's right, you know. This isn't the end of your life. It makes things different, and it's a lot to adapt to, but you can still lead a pretty normal life."

I bit my lower lip and nodded. Other than the rain and the occasional distant wail of a siren, the night was silent. At nearly four in the morning, the streets were empty. In the dark cover of night, Edinburgh slept.

A chilling wind howled across the balcony. Clara squinted against the cold and pushed her long hair back behind her ears.

"How long have you been one?" I asked.

"Fifteen years. I was about your age when I turned."

I nodded. My eyes stung as hot tears burned behind them, and I turned and looked away so Clara wouldn't see.

I never should have been so stupid. What was I thinking having a one-night stand with a stranger? I hadn't been thinking, that was it. I'd been too drunk for thinking.

If only Henry and Chris hadn't insisted on going out that night. I should have just said no. They weren't even my friends, just coworkers. If they hadn't dragged me to that club, everything would be different now.

No, it wasn't their fault. They certainly knew I hadn't made any friends since moving out of the city. They'd just been being nice, and I'd made my own decisions. I was drunk and an idiot, and I'd destroyed my life because of it.

Suddenly, a hand touched my shoulder, and I flinched at the unexpected contact. Startled, I turned to look at Clara.

"Hey," she said. Her eyebrows were turned down, and her features softened with concern. "You're going to be okay, you know?"

She put her hand on my arm, and then she pulled me into a tight hug.

I closed my eyes as she held me, blocking out the world for a minute and imagining everything melting away. Something about the physical contact was soothing—maybe the notion of not being alone. Even though she was practically a stranger, it helped.

I thought about the paintings that hung in her living room. Paintings of pain, loneliness and loss.

"Did you paint them?" I asked after she released me.

"What?"

"The paintings on your walls." I didn't know what else to say about them. "They are beautiful."

She smiled faintly. "I did, and thank you."

We stood silently together on the balcony. The only sound was our cold breath in the air, and the pounding of rain. My mind cooled as the rage and fear died down to embers.

"Come on, let's go inside," Clara finally said. "It's freezing out here."

She led me back into her apartment. I took the warmth of the room into my lungs as I closed the door behind us.

Jen was leaning against the counter in the kitchen. Her arms were crossed over her chest, but her expression had softened. "Feeling better?" she asked.

I nodded.

"You probably need some rest," Clara said. "You haven't slept since your flight, have you?"

"No." It had been over twenty-four hours since the last time I had slept. Maybe that had something to do with my hysterics.

"The sun's going to start coming up in an hour or two. Why don't you stay in the spare bedroom here?"

I nodded. "Thank you."

As I headed towards the bathroom to freshen up, I took one last glance at the angel crying in Clara's living room. In the weeds beneath her knees, five words hid within the shadows:

God, grant me the serenity...

A chill passed over me as I stared at the haunting calligraphy. I hadn't noticed it before, but now, it was all I could focus on. I didn't know if I believed in God or not, but those words... they brought back nostalgia like too much whiskey brought up vomit.

Each summer when I was a child, my family had vacationed in a cabin near the beach. The prayer had been printed in full on a small needlework piece that hung from the wall in the bedroom where I slept. Each night, as I lay on the top bunk of the metal-framed bed, I'd stared at it until my mind finally turned off, and the night faded to black.

Now, the words burned into the painting on Clara's wall like smoke before the flame.

/ / /

After brushing my teeth—or the teeth I had left, at least—I lay awake. Thoughts ran through my head, preventing me from resting. My eyes played tricks on me in the dark room. Shadows crept across the walls. They crawled over the ceilings. My eyelids glowed red. The room swayed, and a heaviness pulled at my body.

I was dragged through a veil, and burning erupted in my brain. I blinked, and I stared into the sun.

"Aaron!" a girl's voice called.

Giggling. Bright blue eyes looked down at me where I lay. My skin burned with warmth and heat, and I closed my hands around fine grains of salty sand. I blinked, and the world swirled around me in a blurring wave of fever and fire.

"Will you look for shells with me?" the girl asked, her mouth unmoving as she stared down at me. The sound of crashing waves echoed around me.

"Aaron!" she shouted. Her feet splashed through salty water as she ran down the beach, calling to me, waiting for me to join her. I wanted to call her name back, but my lungs and body were frozen. I tried to push myself to stand, but nothing responded, and I slipped deeper and deeper into the sand.

"Aaron..." the girl's voice drifted until it was absorbed by the sounds of the roaring sea.

"Do you think he's asleep?" a voice cut through the fire that burned in my brain, and I blinked hot tears from my eyes in darkness.

"He must be," a second voice replied. "He looked sick as a fucking dog."

"So, what do you think?" the first voice came again. Clara's voice. I recognized the low, melodic tone, but now her voice had more of an urgency to it. The conversation was coming from the living room. I clenched the bedsheets in my hands, trying to pull myself awake, but my body responded in a heavy, lethargic slow motion. A dark, unseen force weighed me down, paralyzing me.

"Richard will want to know about him," the other voice replied—Jen's voice. "There hasn't been one like him in years."

They were talking about me. My heart pounded, growing louder and heavier with every pulse. I was certain they would hear it.

"I know." Clara paused, and I held my breath. "Richard isn't going to find out, though."

"He'll find out," Jen said. "He has his ways. I had to go to Laura to get the Red Drink, and I'm sure she'll be happy to tell him all about it."

"He'll know there's a new one, then," Clara said. "That's all. He won't know anything else."

"I suppose." There was a short pause. I was frozen. My eyes shifted around the dark room blindly. Shadows slunk through empty space, pulling at me with their gravity. Eyes flashed in darkness. They peered out at me from every corner.

"Do you actually think he'll have venom when they come in?" Jen's voice came again. Concern laced her normally confident and sarcastic tone.

"No idea," Clara replied. "For his sake, I hope not."

I tried to pull myself awake. What did they mean venom, and who was Richard?

Footsteps shuffled on the other side of the door. Heels against hard wood. "Did anyone see you talking to Aaron at the pub tonight?" Jen's voice asked.

"I don't think so," Clara replied. "A couple of people at the bar, I'm sure, but no one that would have known anything."

"That's good." Jen paused. "So, what are you going to do with him?"

"I can't just send him away like this. I'm not sure if the poor kid would make it much longer on his own. His cravings haven't even started yet. And if his teeth are any indication, they are going to be bad. I'll keep him here, at least until it's complete. Then, I guess send him home. Richard will never meet him."

My heart raced and sweat lined my forehead. What where they talking about? What would happen if whoever this Richard guy was found out about me?

"You better hope he doesn't," Jen continued. "You've dragged me into this too, Clara. If Richard finds out you're hiding him, we'll both get it."

"He's not going to find out."

There was a long pause. I held my breath.

"I've got to get going," Jen finally said. "I'll be back later. This makes me nervous, Clara. Really, really nervous."

"I know. I'm sorry."

Footsteps moved through the living room towards the spare bedroom. The click of heels slowed as they reached the door. My eyes stretched wide, and my heart hammered in my chest.

"Just in case," Jen's voice said. Then, with a heavy thunk, the lock on the door clicked shut.