Steady and matter-of-fact, he said, "It's different. It's not something I'd recommend if there was another choice, but ...
it's okay. You'll be sick while your body's changing, but afterward you'll never get any kind of disease again. You'll be strong and quick-and immortal."
"I'd live forever? But would I be able to stop aging?" She ha d vis ions of herself as an immortal crone.
He grimaced. "Poppy-you'd stop aging now. That's what happens to made vampires. Essentially, you're dying as a mortal. You'll look dead and be unconscious for a while. And then ... you'll wake up."
"I see." Sort of like Juliet in the tomb, Poppy thought. And then she thought, Oh, God ... Mom and Phil.
"There's another thing you should know," James was saying.
"A certain percentage of people don't make it."
"Don't make it?"
"Through the change. People over twenty almost never do.
They don't ever wake up. Their bodies can't adjust to the new form and they burn out. Teenagers usually live through it, but not always."
Oddly enough, this was comforting to Poppy. A qualified hope seemed more believable than an absolute one. To live, she would have to take a chance.
She looked at James. "How do you do it?"
"The traditional way," he said with the ghost of a smile. Then, gravely: "We exchange blood."
Oh, great, Poppy thought. And I was afraid of a simple shot.
Now I'm going to have my blood drawn by fangs. She swallowed and blinked, staring at nothing.
"It's your choice, Poppy. It's up to you."
There was a long pause, and then she said, "I want to live, Jamie."
He nodded. "It'll mean going away from here. Leaving your parents. They can't know."
"Yeah, I was just realizing that. Sort of like getting a new identity from the FBI, huh?"
"More than that. You'll be living in a new world, the Night World. And it's a lonely world, full of secrets. But you'll be walking around in it, instead of lying in the ground." He squeezed her hand. Then he said very quietly and seriously,
"Do you want to st art now?"
All Poppy could think of to do was shut her eyes and brace herself the way she did for an injection. "I'm ready," she said through stiff lips.
James laughed again-this time as if he couldn't help it. Then he folded the bed rail down and settled beside her. "I'm used to people being hypnotized when I do this. It's weird to have you awake."
"Yeah, well, if I scream you can hypnotize me," Poppy said, not opening her eyes.
Relax, she told herself firmly. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how awful it is, you can deal with it. You have to. Your l ife dep ends on it.
Her heart was thumping hard enough to shake her body.
"Right here," James said, touching her throat with cool fingers as if feeling for a pulse.
Just do it, Poppy thought. Get it over with.
She could feel warmth as James leaned c lose to her, taking her carefully by the shoulders. Every nerve ending in her s kin was aware of him. Then she felt cool breath on her throat, and quickly, before she could recoil, a double sting.
Those fangs, burying themselves in her flesh. Making two little wounds so he could drink her blood ...
Now it's really going to hurt, Poppy thought. She couldn't brace herself anymore. Her life was in the hands of a hunter.
She was a rabbit trapped in the coils of a snake, a mouse under the claws of a cat. She didn't feel like James's best friend, she felt like lunch....
Poppy, what are you doing? Don't fight it. It hurts when you resist.
James was speaking to her-but the warm mouth on her throat hadn't moved. The voice was in her head.
I'm not resisting, Poppy thought. I'm just ready for it to hurt, that's all.
There was a burning where his teeth pierced her. She waited for it to get worse-but it didn't. It changed.
Oh, Poppy thought.
The feeling of heat was actually pleasant. A sensation of rele ase, of giving.
And closeness. She and James were getting closer and loser, like two drops of water moving together until they merged.
She could sense James's mind. His thoughts-and his feelings.
His emotions flowed into her, through her.
Tenderness ... concern .. . caring. A cold black rage at the disease that was threatening her. Despair that there was no other way to help her. And longing-longing to share with her, to make her happy.
Yes, Poppy thought.
A wave of sweetness made her dizzy. She found herself groping f or James's hand, their fingers intertwining .
James, she thought with wonder and joy. Her communication to him a tentative caress.
Poppy. She could feel his own surprise and delight.
And all the time the dreamy pleasure was building. Making Poppy shiver with its intensity.
How could I have been so stupid? Poppy thought. To be afraid of this. It isn't terrible. It's.. . . right.
She had never been so close to anybody. It was as if they were one being, together, not predator and prey, but partners in a dance. Poppy-and-James.
She could touch his soul.
Strangely enough, he was afraid of that. She could sense it.
Poppy, don't-so many dark things-I don't want you to see ...
Dark, yes, Poppy thought. But not dark and terrible. Dark and lonely. Such utter loneliness. A feeling of not belonging in either of the two worlds h e knew. Not belonging anywhere.
Except ...
Suddenly Poppy was seeing an image of herself. In his mind she was fragile and graceful, an emeraldeyed spirit of the air.
A sylph-with a core of pure steel.
I'm not really like that, she thought. I'm not tall and beautiful like Jacklyn or Michaela....
The words she heard in answer didn't seem directed towar d her-she had the feeling they were something James was thinking to himself, or reme mbering from some long-forgotten book.