Page 38 of The Unraveling

My sobs steal so much of my breath that my lungs seize, and I sputter and gasp like my final words might become reality. They refuse to fill no matter my gasping, doom squeezing my heart like it’s going to pop, until Dr. Smith rushes a bleeding gash in his wrist to my lips. The cool blood floods my mouth and after a gulp, I manage a tendril of breath through my nostrils.

“Humans can still be treated,” he assures me as I drink. “You and Victor have already done the hardest part by simply waking up. You’re staying lucid longer—a good sign. Unpredictability can work in our favor.”

My breath steadies when he pulls his wrist away despite how my chest shudders, and I curl against Victor.

Tears streak my cheeks as Dr. Smith’s soft touch comes beneath my chin. “But if you’re human, we must try treating you like one. You need energy. You need food.”

Chapter 14

I scowl at the open ready-made salad that Dr. Smith sets in front of me at the dining room table. Victor loudly gulps back a second glass of water beside me.

“You should try it,” Daisy insists from the end of the table. “It’ll probably be easier to keep down than the heavy sandwich.”

I cross my arms and scrunch my nose. “I’d rather gnaw on the rose petals in the garden. Maybe my breath will smell better after I inevitably puke them up.”

Dr. Smith leans on the back of my chair, the wood creaking beneath his weight. His stare is stubborn and piercing against me. “Well, they are technically edible, and you need to eat something. If you really want to eat them, I’m sure Daisy will run outside.”

I tighten my arms across my chest and push out a cough, hand flying over my mouth. A few droplets spray into my palm. I don’t look at them, instead tucking my hand beneath the table and wiping it on my skirt.

“I don’t want to eat rose petals,” I grit out. “I don’t want to eat anything. I’m a . . .” Tears well in my eyes and I blink them back. “A vampire.”

Victor draws in a noisy breath and sets the glass down with a thud. “Water’s not quelling my thirst.”

“Try eating,” Dr. Smith suggests as he nudges the plastic bowl closer to me while digging through the green leaves with the fork like he’s trying to convince me it’s appetizing.

“I suppose.” Victor’s hand slides across the table, fingers hooking around the edge of the cake pan. “Can we share this, Daisy?”

She sniffles and wipes her eyes. “You and Isla can have it all.”

He reels the cake in, then scoops a chocolate bite and lifts it with a shaky hand toward me as crumbs fall. “Here, love. Try something sweet if you won’t try the salad.”

I crane my head back like the cake’s rotten and clear my throat before weakly saying, “You’re sweet. I have you.”

A feeble smile twitches across his lips. “I love you, Isla. Yet if we’re human, we need to eat. We won’t recover if we don’t eat.”

Tears blur my sight, and though I don’t protest as I lower my jaw, I don’t lean forward to take the bite myself despite closing my lips around the fork when it enters my mouth. My stomach lurches as the cake slides onto my tongue, sweetness coming with the memory of my birthdays—all knotted in a way that I can’t distinguish a single one.

Did I like cake when I was human? I know there’s an answer, but it doesn’t come now.

If I ever did, it’s hard to tell despite how it melts so soft and sugary on my tongue. It’s sweet, but it may as well be grave soil down my throat.

I try to stifle my gag with every inch it slides down. It practically bounces off the bottom of my stomach, and I make it only as far as the kitchen sink to vomit, thanks to Dr. Smith’s help.

“I’ll just drink vampire blood,” I cry, voice squeaky. “I don’t want human food. I’ll drink from Victor’s fledglings. We’ll stock the fridge.”

“You can’t survive only on vampire blood,” Dr. Smith murmurs, cold palm pressed into my lower back. “All it’ll do is take the edge off starving to death.”

I squeeze my eyes closed and lean into the counter.

“She had a sandwich earlier and vomited it up as well,” Victor says.

“We’ll find you something you can keep down,” Dr. Smith promises, but I just shake my head.

“I’m a vampire,” I insist, like saying it will make it true again.

As he takes a crystal glass from the cupboard, he says, “Vampires don’t get nauseous from food and puke it back up—the venom just melts it away. Puking is a human thing.”

I lean away from him as he fills the glass of water and lifts it toward my lips. “Get it away⁠—”