I push open the door to the bathroom and sit her down on the closed toilet seat before going to run the bath for her. She’s in desperate need of a wash. Suddenly, she reminds me of how I’d been after Matthew died, and I’d been too consumed with grief to care for my own personal hygiene. Nicky had helped me so much back then, perhaps helping Amanda now is penance for that in some way.
I pour lots of bubbles into the bath and make sure that the water isn’t too hot. I grab some clean towels from the airing cupboard and hurry back in to help Amanda out of her dirty clothes. She’s fully awake now, but she’s not saying anything, just mindlessly allowing me to manoeuvre her into the bath. Her brown eyes take me in, and they seem so wide and innocent in this moment. I feel like I’m taking care of a child.
Once I have her situated in the water, I make sure that she’s holding onto the grips on either side of the tub so that she doesn’t slip under and drown, because she seems to be struggling to stay awake. As quick as I can, I go to find some clean clothes of mine for her to change into. I grab a t-shirt and sweatpants, before going back in to her. She hasn’t drowned, thank God. But when I look at her, I see that tears are streaming down her face.
“I don’t understand why I’m acting like this Tegan,” she whispers, her eyes staring at the bubbles that are concealing her nudity.
“It’s okay, I’m going to help you get better,” I tell her, as though I’m making a vow. I’m determined to fix her, no matter what it takes.
She opens her mouth to speak again, and her voice is so small and weak. “Sometimes I think I’m living in a nightmare, and the only person who can take away the horror is Lucas. I need him. It feels like I’m drowning and can never get enough air to breathe.”
“You don’t need him,” I’m sitting on the edge of the bath tub, I rinse a hand towel, pour some shower gel onto it and then hand it to her so that she can wash herself. She takes it from me and absently runs it over her arms and legs. “You’re just not seeing things clearly right now.”
All of a sudden, her eyes cut to me. “I do need him! He’s the only one who can take away the pain,” her hand instinctively travels to her neck, and she presses her fingers harshly into the skin there, where there’s an old bite mark from Lucas.
I pull her hand away, because it looks like she’s hurting herself. “Stop that,” I whisper.
She looks up into my eyes, and it seems that her moment of lucidity is gone, and she drifts off into a comatose state yet again.
Is this what happens to all of the vampires’ blood donors? Or is Lucas just particularly careless with the humans he feeds from? Perhaps if he alternated between a few different donors then they wouldn’t become addicted the way Amanda is addicted. I imagine that’s what Ethan does. At least I hope it is. I can’t bear the thought of him doing this to the humans he feeds from.
I pour some fresh water over Amanda to wash away the suds from the shower gel. Then I help her out before wrapping her in a clean, dry towel. Once I have her dry, I dress her in the t-shirt and sweat pants and put her into the bed in the guest room that I’ve been sleeping in. She falls asleep almost immediately, looking strangely peaceful as her head sags against the soft pillow.
I close the door gently so as not to wake her up, and go to take a shower. Once I’m out I get into some bed clothes and go downstairs to find something to eat. Nobody’s come home yet, and it’s making me strangely suspicious. Even Noreen isn’t around. I grab my phone and hit Finn’s number. It rings out but nobody answers. I try another two times, but still nothing. On the third call I finally get an answer.
“What is it Tegan?!” Finn’s voice is loud and stressed, and it takes me slightly by surprise. He’s never answered the phone to me in this wa
y before, something very bad must have happened.
“What’s going on? Where is everyone?” I ask in a quiet whisper.
Finn breathes heavily down the line. “I’ll be home in twenty minutes. We really fucked up Tegan. Pamphrock wanted to go ahead and lead the rescue mission tonight. I told him it was too soon, but he wouldn’t listen. The vamps caught them and completely overwhelmed them, and now Pamphrock, alongside thirty of our best men have been captured by Whitfield. So, excuse me if I’m rude as fuck right now.” With this he hangs up, and my mouth gapes open in horror. That’s what Ethan’s phone call had been about. My head rings with the words due punishment. This is ten times worse than anything I could have imagined.
Chapter Fifteen
Pirate Jenny
I’m still in shock as I go about making myself some tea and toast and then I sit in the kitchen to eat it and wait for Finn to get back. Various panicked thoughts run through my mind. If Whitfield’s captured Pamphrock, then he truly has succeeded in his takeover. What will he do to him now? What will he do to Rebecca?
I have never even met the girl, but all of this work I have been doing to rescue her has sort of made me feel oddly attached to her. Like my conscience has taken on the responsibility of worrying about her, without me even realising it.
I take a sip of my warm, sugary tea, and it slides comfortingly down my throat. I stare vacantly into my cup, looking for answers. I’m so consumed with my own thoughts that I don’t immediately notice the dripping noise. It sounds like someone’s left the tap running slightly. Water goes drip, drip, drip, slapping onto the bottom of the sink.
But it’s too close to be the sink, it sounds like it’s dripping onto the floor a few feet away from me. Just as my eyes begin their journey about the room to determine where the dripping is coming from, they land on a pale, incorporeal form standing directly in front of me. I sputter tea out of my mouth in fright, and it sprays all over the table.
The figure stares at me impassively. It’s the witch Whitfield killed outside the club. Zara’s sister, the one with the eye patch that makes her look like a pirate. The one whose throat got slit. The evidence is still there. That’s what’s making the dripping noise. The blood is dripping onto the wooden floor of Finn’s kitchen, creating a pool at her almost invisible feet.
I have never believed in ghosts. I never believed in a lot of things until Ethan and the vampires came into my sad little life. But there is a ghost before me now, and even though she is bleeding horrifically, I’m not scared. Somehow, I know she can’t harm me. The blood is the only part of her that seems real. But it can’t be. Ghosts aren’t flesh and bone, and therefore there’s no blood in them. This must be some kind of an illusion.
I bite on my lip, and her mouth opens. She seems to be trying to say something, but she’s having difficulty getting the words out.
She places her hand to the centre of her chest, and an odd, disjointed voice says, “Jennifer,” as though she’s trying to tell me her name.
“Jennifer?” I ask. “Your name’s Jennifer?”
She nods, there is still no expression on her face, but I can see the relief in the set of her shoulders that she managed to communicate with me effectively.
“Why are you here Jennifer?” I continue carefully. There is surely some important reason for her to have appeared before me. Or am I just hallucinating from all the stress?