Apocalypse?
Just the thought sent a chill down Damon's spine. He would be lying if he said he wasn't excited for sothing like that to happen, but at the sa ti, he was also terrified. He had no control. No knowledge. No guidebook for what ca next.
And right now, not even Bloodreign was talking.
"Are you there? Bloodreign? Little red?" He tried calling for her again, but there was no response. It looked like not everything from the ga was transferred to real life. Maybe it was a gradual process? Maybe it would happen tomorrow? He had no idea.
All he was sure of at the mont was that he had beco a vampire and he needed to drink blood in order not to go crazy. "Ya, I need to get more of that." He took out his phone and started searching for chicken blood online or, for that matter, pig's blood or cow's blood, but Instacart didn't exactly have that option.
He sighed in frustration and threw the phone on the table. It looked like he had to make a personal trip to the butcher's shop and if that did not work maybe even to the damned hospital. But he couldn't do any of that without making sure this woman didn't wake up and start screaming bloody murder.
Damon turned to look at her again. She hadn't moved. Her breathing was even, her pulse—he could hear it now—was calm and steady. He rubbed his temples. If she woke up and rembered anything—anything—his whole life would spiral faster than he could say 'I am sorry'.
If that happened...
Damon shook his head. There was no point in thinking about that now. He grabbed a spare blanket and tossed it over her. "You sleep. Forget everything. Dream about puppies or ice cream or whatever rich girls dream about."
He'd go to the butcher in a few hours, once the shops opened. Hopefully, they wouldn't question a pale, shaky man buying two liters of animal blood like it was normal. If that didn't work... well, he didn't want to think about what ca after that.
He glanced down at his hands—still shaking, still hungry—and then back at her.
"One step at a ti, Damon," he whispered to himself.
He picked up his phone again and started going through various news channels and browsing the web to see if anyone else had changed or any new breaking news had popped out or if sothing like a wyrm had shown up in the real world.
But the newsfeed was refreshingly ordinary. Traffic jams. Stock market dips. Rape and murder and of course powerful politicians acting like toddlers.
There was this one Reddit post where soone posted blurry footage of what looked like a street raccoon... and claid it was a werewolf. Damon looked at it for a mont and then closed it. That thing was definitely just a raccoon.
He sighed and leaned back against the wall. Nothing. No signs. No waves of chaos. Just... life. Business as usual.
"Guess I'm the only monster in town," he muttered bitterly.
But that couldn't be right, could it? If he had changed—really changed—then who was to say others hadn't? Maybe they just hadn't figured it out yet. Or maybe they were hiding it better. The idea was both comforting and horrifying. Because if the world hadn't caught on yet...
His eyes drifted back to the still form in his bed before he again browsed through the internet. Between the fatigue and the stress and the mind-numbing scrolling, he eventually ended up dozing off just a little, and that little quickly turned into a deep sleep, his body awkwardly sprawled on the chair.
Damon didn't rember closing his eyes, but the next ti he blinked, he was staring at a stunningly beautiful face. "You are awake." The beauty next door was standing in front of him, fully conscious and awake.
Fuck! His heart stopped, but before his brain could go into crazy town, she mumbled in an awkward, low voice. "Thanks."
Damon blinked, once... twice... trying to shake off the remnants of sleep and the panic clawing up his throat. Thanks? Did she just thank him?
The woman rubbed her temples like she had the world's worst hangover and took a wobbly step back from the bed. Her gaze flicked around the room, disoriented, lingering on the blanket, the water bottle, the aspirin. She didn't look scared. She didn't look furious. If anything, she looked... confused and slightly embarrassed.
"I think I... passed out or sothing?" she said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Sorry. I don't really rember what happened after I got off the elevator. I was at a work thing and had too much to drink. Then... lights out."
Damon stared, his mind racing. She didn't rember? She didn't rember.
A dozen questions tried to escape his lips, but he swallowed them all. Instead, he nodded carefully. "You showed up outside my door," he said, choosing his words like landmines. "You were wobbling and kind of... collapsed. I couldn't just leave you in the hallway."
She blinked slowly, processing that, then gave a small, grateful nod. "Right. That makes sense. Thank you, again. Seriously. That could've been bad."
"Yeah," Damon murmured. "Could've been."
They both stared at each other in silence, with no idea what the other person was thinking. "I'll, uh... let you rest," she finally said, turning toward the door. "Thanks again... neighbor."
Damon watched her leave and sighed in relief inwardly. At least this one problem was solved. Now, if only his blood bank problem would go away just as easily.
He barely finished that thought when the woman who was about to open and close the door and leave the apartnt, all of a sudden, stopped abruptly.
"Blood... I need to give you blood." She spoke slowly, her eyes vaguely clouded, like she was half-sleepwalking, half-hypnotized.
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