he said quietly. It wasn't a question.
"My mom doesn't know I 'know," Poppy said. How could she be talking coherently when all she wanted to do was scream? "I overheard the doctors telling her.... James, I've got it. And ... it's bad; it's a bad kind of cancer. They said it's already spread. They said I'm going to . . ." She couldn't get the last word out, even though it was shrieking through her mind.
"You're going to die," James said. He still seemed quiet and centered. Detached.
"I read up on it," James went on, walking over to the window and looking out. "I know how bad it is. The articles said there was a lot of pain. Serious pain „
"James," Poppy gasped.
"Sometimes they have to do surgery just to try to stop the pain. But whatever they do, it won't save you. They can fill you full of chemicals and irradiate you, and you'll still. die. Probably before the end of summer."
"James-"
"It will be your last summer-"
"James, for God's sake!" It was almost a scream.
Poppy was breathing in great shaking gulps, clinging to the blankets. "Why are you doing this to me?"
He turned and in one movement seized her wrist, his fingers closing over the plastic hospital bracelet. "I want you to understand that they can't help you," he said, ragged and intense. "Do you understand that?"
"Yes, I understand," Poppy said. She could hear the mounting hysteria in her own voice. "But is that what you came here to say? Do you want to kill me?"
His fingers tightened painfully. "No! I want to save you." Then he let out a breath and repeated it more quietly, but with no less intensity. "I want to save you, Poppy."
Poppy spent a few moments just getting air in and out of her lungs. It was hard to do it without dissolv ing into sobs. "Well, you can't," she said at last. "No body can."
"That's where you're wrong." Slowly he released her wrist and gripped the bed rail instead. "Poppy, there's something I've got to tell you. Something about me."
"James . . ." Poppy could breathe now, but she didn't know what to say. As far as she could tell, James had gone crazy. In a way, if everything else hadn't been so awful, she might have been flattered. James had lost his consummate cool-over her. He was upset enough about her situation to go com pletely nonlinear.
"You really do care," she said softly, with a laugh that was half a sob. She put a hand on his where it rested on the bed rail.
He laughed shortly in turn. His hand flipped over to grasp hers roughly; then he pulled away. "You have no idea," he said in a terse, strained voice.
Looking out the window, he added, "You think you know everything about me, but you don't. There's something very important that you don't know."
By now Poppy just felt numb. She couldn't under stand why James kept harping on himself, when she was the one about to die. But she tried to conjure up some sort of gentleness for him as she said, "You can tell me anything. You know that."
"But this is something you won't believe. Not to mention that it's breaking the laws."
"The law?"
"The laws. I go by different laws than you. Human laws don't mean much to us, but our own are sup posed to be unbreakable."
"James," Poppy said, with blank terror. He really was losing his mind.
"I don't know the right way to say it. I feel like somebody in a bad horror movie." He shrugged, and said without turning, "I know how this sounds, but ... Poppy, I'm a vampire."
Poppy sat still on the bed for a moment. Then she groped out wildly toward the bedside table. Her fin gers closed on a stack of little crescent-shaped plastic basins and she threw the whole stack at him.
"You bastard!" she screamed, and reached for something else to throw.
CHAPTER 5
J ames dodged as Poppy lobbed a paperback book at him. "Poppy”
"You jerk! You snake! How can you do this to me? You spoiled, selfish, immature-"
"Shhh! They're going to hear you-
"Let them! Here I am, and I've just found out that I'm going to die, and all you can think of
"My mom doesn't know I 'know," Poppy said. How could she be talking coherently when all she wanted to do was scream? "I overheard the doctors telling her.... James, I've got it. And ... it's bad; it's a bad kind of cancer. They said it's already spread. They said I'm going to . . ." She couldn't get the last word out, even though it was shrieking through her mind.
"You're going to die," James said. He still seemed quiet and centered. Detached.
"I read up on it," James went on, walking over to the window and looking out. "I know how bad it is. The articles said there was a lot of pain. Serious pain „
"James," Poppy gasped.
"Sometimes they have to do surgery just to try to stop the pain. But whatever they do, it won't save you. They can fill you full of chemicals and irradiate you, and you'll still. die. Probably before the end of summer."
"James-"
"It will be your last summer-"
"James, for God's sake!" It was almost a scream.
Poppy was breathing in great shaking gulps, clinging to the blankets. "Why are you doing this to me?"
He turned and in one movement seized her wrist, his fingers closing over the plastic hospital bracelet. "I want you to understand that they can't help you," he said, ragged and intense. "Do you understand that?"
"Yes, I understand," Poppy said. She could hear the mounting hysteria in her own voice. "But is that what you came here to say? Do you want to kill me?"
His fingers tightened painfully. "No! I want to save you." Then he let out a breath and repeated it more quietly, but with no less intensity. "I want to save you, Poppy."
Poppy spent a few moments just getting air in and out of her lungs. It was hard to do it without dissolv ing into sobs. "Well, you can't," she said at last. "No body can."
"That's where you're wrong." Slowly he released her wrist and gripped the bed rail instead. "Poppy, there's something I've got to tell you. Something about me."
"James . . ." Poppy could breathe now, but she didn't know what to say. As far as she could tell, James had gone crazy. In a way, if everything else hadn't been so awful, she might have been flattered. James had lost his consummate cool-over her. He was upset enough about her situation to go com pletely nonlinear.
"You really do care," she said softly, with a laugh that was half a sob. She put a hand on his where it rested on the bed rail.
He laughed shortly in turn. His hand flipped over to grasp hers roughly; then he pulled away. "You have no idea," he said in a terse, strained voice.
Looking out the window, he added, "You think you know everything about me, but you don't. There's something very important that you don't know."
By now Poppy just felt numb. She couldn't under stand why James kept harping on himself, when she was the one about to die. But she tried to conjure up some sort of gentleness for him as she said, "You can tell me anything. You know that."
"But this is something you won't believe. Not to mention that it's breaking the laws."
"The law?"
"The laws. I go by different laws than you. Human laws don't mean much to us, but our own are sup posed to be unbreakable."
"James," Poppy said, with blank terror. He really was losing his mind.
"I don't know the right way to say it. I feel like somebody in a bad horror movie." He shrugged, and said without turning, "I know how this sounds, but ... Poppy, I'm a vampire."
Poppy sat still on the bed for a moment. Then she groped out wildly toward the bedside table. Her fin gers closed on a stack of little crescent-shaped plastic basins and she threw the whole stack at him.
"You bastard!" she screamed, and reached for something else to throw.
CHAPTER 5
J ames dodged as Poppy lobbed a paperback book at him. "Poppy”
"You jerk! You snake! How can you do this to me? You spoiled, selfish, immature-"
"Shhh! They're going to hear you-
"Let them! Here I am, and I've just found out that I'm going to die, and all you can think of
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