John closed the door and leaned forward, his forehead pressed against the dark wood. Anger radiated from him like a searing heat, a rage held closely in check. I knew that anger was directed at me. At last, he stalked off toward the kitchen, leaving me alone.

Ian was on the run. Again. While he alone was responsible for his actions, I'd inadvertently put John in danger by seeking the help of another vampire. When Josiah Butler discovered that John had been harboring a criminal, there would be consequences to pay. Still, I had half a mind to walk out the front door and never look back. My hand gripped the doorknob so tightly with indecision that my knuckles gleamed bone-white under the thin, almost translucent skin of my hand. And yet I couldn't leave John alone to clean up the mess I'd had a part in creating, no matter what I thought Ian deserved. The little leech was right; I still cared about him.

Resolved, I squared my shoulders and went after John. I found him standing with his back pressed against the counter, head bowed, with a glass of blood-red liquid in his hand. I didn't have to ask what the glass contained. He didn't look up as I entered the room, but he didn't turn away. Pulling out a chair with a scrape of legs that seemed much too loud for the solemnity of the moment, I sat down and folded my hands in my lap.

"I want you to turn me," I said when it became evident John wasn't going to speak first.

He raised the glass to his mouth and drained the contents before turning to rinse it in the sink with seemingly deliberate care. "Why?" he said, a hard edge to his voice.

I wasn't prepared for him to ask questions, and I floundered for a response. "Because I was wrong, John. Because I don't want to die. And if I have to become a. . . what you are to survive, I'll do it."

John shook his head and issued a small grunt that I couldn't decipher. "You can't even say the word. Are you sure you don't want me to change you just to ease your guilty conscience?"

I refused to let him bait me into an argument. "I do feel guilty," I said. "I understand now what you and Ian mean to each other. I feel guilty for coming between you and jeopardizing your relationship, and I feel guilty for the trouble I've brought on you which," I pointed out, "I never meant to do."

I stood and approached John from behind. Slowly, I reached out my hand to touch his back. When he didn't protest, I wrapped my arms around his waist, lowering my head so that my cheek lay flush against the sharp slope of his shoulder. "You were right when you said I need you, John."

He covered my hands with his and exhaled. Then he turned to hold me against his chest, his fingers tangling in my hair. After a moment, he pulled back and touched my chin with the tip of his index finger, raising my face to his. I closed my eyes in anticipation of his kiss, my body yearning for what we once had.

"How can I trust you anymore?"

My eyes flew open at his words. I tried to take a step back, but he held me firmly in place, his arms locked around me in a mocking embrace. "You have the audacity to speak to me about trust?" I said, struggling against him. "You were the one who didn't tell me about Ian, remember?"

"I didn't know there was a warrant out for his arrest," John said. "I thought he would leave after a few days and you and I could go on with our lives. I was going to tell you about me, in time and on my own terms."

He released me abruptly and I lost my balance, taking an involuntary step back. "But you," he said, with a look of true despair on his face. "You knowingly sought out another vampire with the intention of betraying Ian to the authorities. You hurt me, Blake. On purpose."

My palms were ice-cold and slick with sweat. "I never meant to hurt you, John."

"But you meant to hurt Ian."

"I was angry! Can't you understand?"

John took a step toward me, hands clenched into fists. "Yes, I can understand because the same thing was done to me. Every vampire that exists today was once a human whose life was stolen from him." He turned away, his shoulders heaving as his breath came in audible exhalations. I stood still, too stunned to speak.

"You're right," I said after several moments of silence had passed between us. His shoulders relaxed by a small degree and I found the courage to go on. "When you explain it like that . . . you're right." With caution, I approached and laid a hand upon his back once more, relieved to feel some of the tension dissolve under my fingertips.

"You need to realize you're not the only one who's suffered a tragedy," he said. "We all have. But unlike you, we never had the choice to die or be reborn as something else. Maybe in the beginning I would have chosen differently, but I'm okay with how things turned out. And I'm telling you now, Blake, your life doesn't have to be over."

Standing on my toes, I kissed the base of his neck, raising an involuntary infantry of goosebumps. "I see that now, and I don't want my life to be over. I know it won't be the same, but at least I can go on living. John . . . I want you to change me."

He turned to me then, a sudden bloodlust in his eyes. "Are you sure?"

I swallowed my reservations and blurted out my answer before I lost my nerve. "Yes."

John had me in his arms faster than my mind could process what was happening. He carried me into the living room and lowered me to the couch before kneeling on the floor next to me. I cried out at the sight of his extended fangs, shrinking against the cushion in automatic reflex as I thrust out my hand for protection.

"I didn't mean right this second!"

John blinked several times, the features of his face twisting with the agony of denied pleasure as he struggled to overcome his predatory instincts. The crazed look that had lit his eyes began to slowly disappear, and I sat up slowly, breathing a sigh of relief when his fangs shrank back to their normal size. He bent forward and dropped his head into my lap.

"I have questions," I said, resting my hand on his head. "There are things I need to know before I go through with this."

"Then ask," he said, voice muffled. "I'm not sure I'll be able to stop myself next time."

I took a deep breath. "For starters, why me?"

He lifted his head. "What do you mean, why you?"

"Of all the girls in the world, why did you pick me?"

John raised himself next to me on the couch where he sat bent forward, hands hanging between his knees. "I wanted you," he said simply.

"But we hardly knew each other, John. What we have—what we had—was nothing more than infatuation. You said you love me, but how can that be true?"

When he didn't answer, I tried a different approach. "Why were you at the party that day, the one by the lake? It was supposed to be for the cheerleaders and football players, and yet you were there. With Jill."

"I was there because I had to be."

"Because you had to be?" I shook my head. "That doesn't make sense."

John slumped against the couch and rubbed his face with his hands as though to scrub away the past. "I was there because of my job."

"What does The Marauder's Cove have to do with anything?"

A faint smile showed on his lips, but he didn't directly answer my question. "Do you happen to know what your blood type is?"

As a matter of fact, I did. I'd spent the past two months having the insides of my arms skewered like shish kebabs so doctors could find out what was wrong with me. "O negative," I answered, without hesitation.

"Do you know what is so special about humans with O negative blood type?"

"Yeah. It's considered the universal donor."

He nodded. "While you can only receive blood from other people with the same blood type, you can give blood to anyone. Care to guess what blood type vampires need to survive?"

I stared at him, thinking at first he was joking, but quickly coming to the realization that he wasn't. "I'm not sure I like where this is going," I said. Craving space and air, I moved to the fireplace where I gripped the mantle for support.

"For vampires to survive, we need type O negative blood," he said. "You can't tell a person's blood type just by looking at them, so we have to actively seek them out."

"And that's what you were doing," I said, understanding dawning on me at last. "You were hunting me."

John winced. "That's not the word I would use. I've known your blood type for years, but I couldn't actively recruit you because of your age. I had to wait until you turned seventeen."

"Which was in July," I said. "Which is precisely when you became interested in me."

John hung his head, looking vaguely ashamed. "People have this misconception that vampires are nothing but bloodthirsty predators with indiscriminate appetites. Worse, they think we go around killing without regard for the value of human life. To them, we are the things that go bump in the night, the stuff their nightmares are made of."

"Aren't you?" I asked. "I mean, you do prey on people for their blood."

He shook his head. "Not like you think we do. True, some vampires will feed on anyone no matter their blood type, but it's like a junkie getting high."

"What do you mean?"

"If I were to feed on Olivia, for instance, I would receive a certain amount of pleasure from drinking her blood, but only for a while. It wouldn't sustain me. Vampires who engage in that sort of lifestyle are unstable and pose a threat to everyone, not to mention they tend to leave evidence behind."

"Evidence . . . in the form of human bodies?" I guessed.

John nodded. "That's why all Donors must be O negative, and it's the Seeker's job to find them."

"The Seeker?" I said, trying out this unfamiliar term. "Maybe you should tell me who the local Seeker is so I can avoid him in the future."

I'd meant it as a joke, but the look on John's face gave me pause. "Please don't tell me this Seeker is masquerading as my high school gym coach."

The Adam's apple in John's throat bobbed as he swallowed. "I believe you already know him. His name is Andrew Larsen."

My stomach plummeted to the floor, and black dots danced in front of my eyes. I hurriedly returned to the couch and sat down, putting my head between my knees as I took a series of deep, cleansing breaths. "The guy who works with my mom . . . is a vampire?" It was too ludicrous to believe, and yet was it any more bizarre than John being one?

"Andrew is a vampire with a specialized talent," he said. "I guess you can say he's got a nose for different blood types." He laughed but gave up immediately when I didn't join in. He cleared his throat. "He's also my employer."

"Your employer? But I thought you worked at The Marauder's Cove." My voice broke off as something suddenly occurred to me. "Oh, God. The Marauder's Cove. Is that, like, some vampire hangout?"

"Something like that," John said. He gave me a meaningful look. "Clearing tables isn't my only job."

"This is all so very confusing."

John put his hands behind his neck and looked up at the ceiling as though for answers. "It's because I'm not explaining this right."

"Then try harder," I said, an edge to my voice.

"I work for Andrew Larsen, who is a Seeker. When he discovers a healthy human with O negative blood, it is my job, as a Compeller, to persuade him or her into becoming a Donor."

"So you're a professional motivator," I said as I stared at him. "A master manipulator. Everything makes a lot more sense now," I muttered under my breath.

"Blake—"

"So let me get this straight. Andrew Larsen, who until a few minutes ago I thought was just a creepy pervert that works for my mom, thought I would make a tasty snack and sent you to woo me into joining the ranks of other Donors?"

John opened his mouth but then closed it, instead replying with a helpless shrug.

"Did he think I'd just willingly sit back and let a bunch of vampires suck me dry?"

"It's not like that," John said. "People give blood all the time at blood banks. It's the same concept. I've got a refrigerator full of blood that I bought, all of it legally obtained. You even have to be seventeen to be a Donor, just like at a human blood bank."

"And Josiah . . . he's around to keep Donors safe and vampires in line?"

"Exactly."

"So humans go to The Marauder's Cove to willingly give their blood?" I remembered people—vampires—coming and going through that black curtain at the back of the bar.

"Sometimes vampires want it fresh from the source. It naturally tastes better."

"Of course it does," I said, placing a hand over my mouth.

"Other than the Donors, most of the patrons are not human. Sometimes humans do get in like you did, but they leave with no desire to ever return. That many vampires in one place make humans uncomfortable for reasons they can't explain. They just know it's not a place they ever want to return to."

"Aren't you worried Donors will tell the rest of the world about what goes on there? Aren't you afraid the secret of your existence will get out?"

John smiled, revealing a set of gleaming white, and perfectly human-looking teeth. "That's where I come in. Persuading humans to become Donors is what I do, but keeping them quiet is also part of the job. Take Jill, for instance."

"She was a Donor? Oh, right. That's why you were with her," I said, answering my own question before he could respond.

"Jill still is a Donor. Humans are especially susceptible to the power of suggestion, some more so than others. I condition Donors to believe that they are doing a good deed by donating blood every eight weeks."

I sat quietly for a moment, chewing my bottom lip. John didn't ask what I was thinking or rush me to talk. There was something I had to know, but I couldn't bear to look him in the eyes when I asked.

"If I was just a prospective Donor, was anything between us real?"

John's breath escaped in a rush as he seemed to realize the corner he'd back himself into. He sat beside me. "You have to understand I had a job to do, Blake. Even if—"

"I broke up with Zach because of you," I said. "I thought we had something!"

"We did have something. I mean, we do—"

"But all of it was a lie! You tricked me, John. How does that make what we had real?"

John's mouth opened and closed as he struggled to find something to say. I turned away again, unable to watch him flounder for excuses. "I wanted to be with you since the first time I saw you," he finally said. "You got under my skin, Blake. In all the years I've been dealing with humans, I've never fallen in love with one before. I love you, Blake. Don't you see that? I could just as easily compel you to feel the same way for me, but I won't. I refuse to."

"Why not?" I asked, out of some perverse sense of curiosity.

"I could have compelled you months ago to let me change you, but I want it to be your choice. I want what's between us to be real as much as you do. If we're going to share a life, and I hope we will, it can't be based on a lie."

He pulled me to his chest in a crushing embrace and I buried my face against his shoulder. My eyes stung with unshed tears and I gritted my teeth against the need to surrender.

"Will it hurt when you change me?"

"Only for a moment," he said, though I sensed the hesitation to be honest. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"Josiah said I don't have long. If that's true, I don't have any other choice."

He pushed me away so that we were looking each other directly in the eyes. "So then we do this?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Everything will be okay, Blake. You will finally be okay."

"And after that?"

"We'll figure out the rest. Together."

I nodded silently, and John's eyes flicked to the pillow. A ripple of fear surged through my body, making me shake and shiver at what I was about to do.

"It'll be okay," he whispered again as I lay down on the couch.

Brushing aside my hair, he gently stroked the line of my jaw with the tip of his index finger. He bent his mouth to my neck then, and I squeezed my eyes shut tight as his teeth pressed against my skin. I dug my nails into the cushion, bracing against imminent pain, and then screamed for all I was worth.

John's hand clamped down over my mouth, muffling the noise. "It won't do any good if the neighbors think I'm killing you," he said, a faint smile on his lips. I thought he was probably just as nervous as I was. "Besides," he added. "I haven't done anything yet."

"I'm sorry. I'm just really scared."

"I'll be gentle," he said, bending down again.

I pushed him away. "How gentle can you be when you're biting a chunk out of someone's neck?"

"You're right," he said, his brows pushing together. "Maybe I should do it quickly. What do you think?"

"You're asking me?"

A high blush crept into John's cheeks. "Well . . . I've never bitten anyone before."

I couldn't help my panicky laughter. "You're, like, a vampire virgin? Not that there's anything wrong with that," I added in a rush. "I'm a virgin, too." I put a hand to my face. "I should just shut up."

"Shh." He forcibly removed my hand from my face and kissed my forehead. "No, I've never done this before, but I—"

There came a sudden pounding at the door, and we both jerked in surprise.

"Wait here," John said, scrambling to his feet.

Not listening, I got up and followed, and my breath caught in my chest when I saw who was standing on the other side.

Josiah Butler allowed a hint of a smile, but something told me he wasn't here on a social visit. He pointed a finger at John, "I believe you have something I want."

*****

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, please vote, comment, and recommend Blood Type to others.