Аманда Хокинг - Flutter

The Minneapolis airport was a bustle of human activity. The cold October air felt good on my skin as we walked from the parking lot to the airport, but everything was already filled with the warm, tantalizing scent of blood. My heart sped up a little, and Jack took my hand, squeezing it tightly to reassure me. Once inside, the feeling only got worse, and I tried to think of sad things, like dead bunnies, to keep my appetite under wraps.

Ezra went to the desk to pick up our tickets while Jack stood with me, waiting in the crowd.

We were going to have to separate soon, since baggage claims and everything was beyond where Jack would be allowed to go. He was unusually still, but he was doing that for my benefit. I could feel everything he felt, so he was trying to be calm and soothing so I wouldn’t get agitated or hungry. He wanted me to be safe and have a safe flight.

“I’m going to have to go soon,” I said, looking up at him sadly.

“I know.” He squeezed my hand again and used all his might to keep his own anxiety and trepidation from effecting me.

I was acutely aware of all the crowds around us pausing to stare. Before, when I had been out with Jack in public, it had driven me insane the way everyone was always fawning all over him.

Now, I suddenly had the same power, and I wasn’t exactly used to it or comfortable with it. It was incredibly odd having a private moment in front of an audience.

Jack touched my face gently, his hand warming my cheek, and I leaned into it. Above everything around me, I smelled him so perfectly, and I knew there was nothing in the world I wanted more than him.

Leaving, even for a short time, would be more painful than I had originally thought, but I knew it was the only thing I could do. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do everything I could to help Peter, and Jack knew that, and he knew that I would hate him if he stopped me and something happened. So despite all his reservations, he was going to let me go without protest.

Gently, he pressed his lips against mine, and I could feel his luscious heart beat through my skin. He was careful to keep it soft and very PG, because it would be horrendous if I were to get out of control in a crowded airport. Still, there was nothing sweeter in the world than his kisses, and I couldn’t help but want more.

“The planes going to board soon,” Ezra interrupted us, not unkindly. “We need to get through baggage claims and security.”

Reluctantly, I pulled myself from Jack. His eyes were completely locked on mine, and my heart started screaming. Apparently, it had just finally dawned on me what I was about to do. Separating myself from Jack to sleep was uncomfortable. Being miles and miles away for I don’t even know how long… that sounded unbearable.

“I’ll take good care of her,” Ezra promised when Jack seemed unwilling to let me go.

Ezra took my hand in his, partially to help coax me away from Jack and partially so he could keep tabs on me. This was not the most ideal place for a new vampire’s first big outing, and everyone knew that. Jack eventually let go of my hand, and as Ezra carefully guided me through the crowds past the first set of metal detectors, my eyes never left Jack’s. He just stood in the middle of the airport, staring after me, like some tragic music video, and I wondered what exactly I had gotten myself into.

The transformation itself had been so incredibly brutal that the English language isn’t fit to describe it. My body died and ate itself. My organs shifted around, feeling as if my intestines had been replaced with living, moving snakes that squirmed inside of me. I spent hours upon hours vomiting. I was in a constant state of fevered delirium. My body ached on a cellular level. Even touching my hair would cause excruciating pain.

It wasn’t until I finally drank blood for the first time, cold from a bag, and I felt it sliding down my throat that everything began to take a turn for the better. The pain subsided and was replaced by pleasure. All my senses were heightened, and I couldn’t believe how glorious everything really was. There were more colors and tastes and textures in the spectrum than I ever imagined.

Not to mention the way I felt about Jack. I could feel him when he entered the room, and not like before. My heart always seemed to know exactly how far away he was from me, and it didn’t feel right unless he was with me. The way plants strained for the sun, I strained for him. Whether he was in the room or not, my body would automatically tilt itself towards him, like I was compass and he was due north. It was almost magnetic, my love for him. That kind of indiscernible pull that said I had to be with him.

On top of all that, I had changed. My skin was smoother, my hair silkier, my eyes brighter, and I had lost weight on every part of my body except my breasts. While I hadn’t exactly been fat before, there was a new elegance to how I looked that hadn’t been there before. The change wasn’t as drastic as it had been with Milo, more like I had simply gone through some kind of make over, but I definitely looked better. And I had shot up from 5’3” to a whopping 5’5” feet tall.

Once I was fully conscious, fed, and the pain had gone away, I wanted to fill in the missing gap. The last thing I remembered before surrendering into the transformation was that I had just drank Jack’s blood, and he was basically about to commit suicide in a battle with Peter, over me. Then I passed out, and I heard the sound of all hell breaking loose. But here we were, in Jack’s room, with him by my side, and we both seemed alright.

“What happened?” I demanded, forcing myself to sit up in his bed. At the time, I still felt considerably weakened.

“When?” Jack played dumb, which wasn’t that endearing when I was frazzled and confused.

He was sitting at the end of his bed, looking at me with an overwhelming sense of relief.

Up until this point, I had bleary memories of half-consciousness, and they mostly involved me writhing in pain or screaming. Among them was Jack pulling back my hair while I threw up what appeared to be viscera, and resting cool wash clothes on my head whenever I was awake enough to complain of the burning heat. The only almost fond memory I had through it all was him by my side, singing softly in attempt to comfort me as he stroked my hair.

Obviously, after watching all of that, there had to be times where he was afraid that I wasn’t going to make it. Even if he knew that I would survive it all, watching someone he cared about suffer that much had to be exhausting. Thankfully, when Milo had turned, I had been spared most of it, but what little I had witnessed had been draining.

“How are we both alive?” I asked, and he laughed lightly, completely distracting me from the topic at hand.

His laughter, which had always had such a power over me, rippled through me. Hearing it, hearing anything, I imagine is the way I deaf person feels the first time they hear. It was almost too miraculous to really comprehend the actual sound, to understand what was being said. Everything about him was distracting, and I had to fight with my senses to keep my mind on track.

“You look totally in awe right now,” Jack smirked at me.

“I am but… don’t change the subject.” I blinked to try and focus myself, and it seemed to work a little. “How are we alive? Is Peter…”

My curiosity over whether or not Peter was dead would be perfectly justified, but Jack’s lips tightened into a thin line at the mention of him. Maybe it wasn’t the sound of his name quite as much as my underlying concern, but he quickly pushed his feelings away and decided that I deserved an explanation.

“No. He’s alive.” He let his words hang in the air, and I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t.