Chapter 14

They made the front page of the Daily News.

"That weasel of a reporter swears he didn't give it to his editor, but I don't know who else could have," Sana said in a disgruntled tone. She had called Jennie and Lisa first thing in the morning and requested they meet her in the main restaurant for breakfast. Jennie had immediately suspected the worst. And she'd been right.

She stared miserably at the newspaper photo. There was Lisa, half-standing and looking all beautiful in her froufrou costume, and there was she, looking like some cheap wench crawling out from under the table to grab her by the crotch. She sighed miserably and read the headline again. "Medieval Moments?" it screamed in big letters.

YG Publishing Editor Jennie Kim grabs all the gusto she can from vampire romance author Pranpriya, as Lady Sana, CEO and founder of the Romantic Times Magazine, looks on at the Renaissance Ball last night.

Jennie groaned and started to slam the paper down, but paused to reread the byline. She looked more carefully at the picture.

"When I get my hands on that man, I'm going to" Lady Sana began.

"I think he's telling the truth," Jennie interrupted wearily. "It seems to me that newspaper man's flash went off just as I came out from under the table. You were still under there. But you're in this picture."

Lady Sana took the paper and peered at it, a frown forming on her face. "I think you're right. But who else could have taken it? Cameras weren't allowed. We had hired a photographer to take photos of people. The only guests with cameras were reporters and" Her voice trailed off, her eyes narrowing. "Why, that" She cut herself off, clearly displeased. "If you'll excuse me, I have something to take care of."

She stood, then paused and forced a smile. "Don't worry about this. It's all a tempest in a teapot. It'll pass quickly if you don't give interviews about it."

Jennie and Lisa nodded, then watched Lady Sana leave the restaurant no doubt to skin a certain photographer.

Jennie sighed. Lisa did too. They avoided looking at each other. They had been avoiding looking at each other ever since last night. Wendy had helped untangle Jennie's sleeve from her codpiece, after which she had promptly excused herself. Jennie had then settled at the table where Wendy and the other writers had tried to cheer her, while Taehyung had tried valiantly not to laugh. Jimin had come by twice to talk to the writers and toss glares her way. Jisoo had come by at least three times to reassure her that everything would be fine. Taehyung had again tried not to laugh.

When Lisa hadn't returned after half an hour, Jennie had excused herself and gone back to their suite. Lisa had just been coming out of her room. Her gaze had touched hers, then shifted quickly away as she asked if the ball was over. Jennie had told her it wasn't, but she had a headache and wanted to lie down. She'd made a sympathetic comment, told her that she'd just come upstairs for a drink from which she gathered that she'd had some blood then had said perhaps she'd just relax in the suite, too.

Jennie had merely shrugged. She felt depressed and miserable, a gigantic failure at life and wondered how everything had gone so wrong.

And that had been before her folly was plastered all over the newspaper.

She sighed again.

"I guess we should head to the hospitality suite," Lisa finally suggested.

Jennie grimaced. She'd had to drag her to the blasted thing that first day; now she was all eager to go. And she wasn't. The last thing in the world Jennie wanted was to go anywhere she might have to face Jimin. If the publisher hadn't been pleased with her last night, today, after seeing the headlines, she would be livid. If she still had her job by noon, she'd be a lucky woman.

But, she told herself, there was no sense in dragging it out. She might as well go learn the awful truth.

It wasn't as bad as she'd feared. In some ways, it was worse. Jennie still had a job. In fact, Jimin was terribly pleased with the publicity. Lisa had made the front page, after all. As had YG Publishing. The man kept congratulating her as if her public humiliation was some sort of grand promotional scheme. Jennie would have liked to choke him. By the end of the day, she decided that if he patted her in that congratulatory manner one more time, she was going to.

It was more than a relief to Jennie when they closed up the hospitality suite and everyone was freed to prepare for the night's Rock 'n' Roll party.

Her gaze went to Lisa. The woman had come out of her shell with a vengeance. Every time she'd looked her way today, she'd been talking to a fan or another writer. Jennie couldn't be sure, but she suspected she'd done more talking since arriving at this conference than she had in the past several decades. She'd become more loquacious with each passing day, and today had been no exception.

Of course, there wasn't a single solitary conference attendee who hadn't seen the headlines. The news of the situation had also made the rounds, and while most people were terribly sympathetic with both her and Lisa, there were a few who still snickered. They offered their "You poor dears" or their "How embarrassing it must be for yous," while they chuckled nonetheless. Of course, Lisa wasn't suffering those little snickers. Everyone seemed to feel great sympathy for her, saving all their amusement for her.

Which was usually the way of it, Jennie thought wearily as she walked toward the table with Lisa and the other writers; she suffered the scorn and humiliation, while Lisa walked away with the glory or sympathy. Unfortunately, try as she might, Jennie couldn't be angry at Lisa for the way other people acted. She had apologized repeatedly while Jennie and Wendy had worked to untangle her sleeve from her codpiece, and she knew she really felt bad about the whole thing. But it hadn't been her fault. It had just been one of life's unfortunate incidents.

Lisa glanced at her as she approached, and Jennie managed to pull a smile from the depths of herself.

"Time to go?" she asked.

"Yes." She smiled at her, then the table in general. "Time to get ready for the Rock 'n' Roll party."

Lisa stood and took her hand,her gaze moving over her face with a tinge of what she thought might be concern. "You look weary."

"It was a long day," Jennie agreed with a small shrug. They left the hospitality suite. They didn't speak again until they reached their own. Taehyung hadn't returned yet, and the suite was empty and silent.

"What does one wear to a rock and roll party?" Lisa asked as she closed the door behind them.

"Well, I gather it's an oldies type party. Fifties. Jeans and T-shirts will do. I brought a leather jacket and boots for you to wear," Jennie explained. She had said she would take care of everything, and she had to the best of her abilities.

"A leather jacket?" Lisa asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Yes. You know, the Fonzie look."

"The who?"

She frowned at her bewildered expression, then recalled she didn't watch television. she'd missed loads, she realized with amazement. "He's a cool fifties character from a series. Leather jacket, jeans, leather boots and greased back hair. Very cool."

"Ah. Yes, I recall a couple characters like that from those days." Lisa nodded. "But how did you know what boot size to get?"

Jennie flushed and shrugged, then turned toward her door. She was slipping through it when she admitted, "I called your mother and asked."

She didn't wait for her response, simply closed the door on her startled expression. Then she went to pull out the bagged clothing from the costumers. She set the bag holding the leather jacket and boots on the bed, then held the see-through bag with her own costume up for inspection. This was certainly going to be an adventure. The costume didn't look at all appealing. She'd bet anything that those crinolines were going to itch like crazy.

Actually, she'd been wrong, Jennie admitted sometime later as she surveyed herself in the mirror. She wore saddle shoes, bobby socks, the pink poodle skirt and a cream sweater set. She'd pulled her hair back into a ponytail and gone light on the makeup, and she looked about sixteen. She shook her head at her reflection, then decided she was ready and walked out to collect the bag with Lisa's costume.

Taehyung and Lisa were both watching television when Jennie joined them in the living room.

Taehyung turned and grinned. "Isn't my hair great? Lisa helped me with it. I didn't bring a leather jacket, but she said if I stuck a pack of cigarettes under my T-shirt sleeve I'd look just as cool."

Jennie looked at Lisa. Great. God, she looked hot. Even with enough grease in her hair to fry donuts.

"Is that for me?" Lisa stood and walked over,her gaze sliding across her in a slow caress.

"Yes." Jennie handed her the bagged clothing, aware her face was flushing. She not only looked sixteen, she felt sixteen at the moment.

"You look lovely," she said in a whisper-soft voice. "Sweet and cute. The picture of youth."

Sweet and cute. Jennie chewed over those words as Lisa unwrapped her boots and jacket, then donned them. Puppies were cute. And who wanted to look like "the picture of youth"?

"A perfect fit."

Jennie glanced at Lisa where she stretched, testing the fit in the shoulders of her jacket. Her gaze didn't settle on her shoulders, though, but on her breasts. Cute and youthful. She sighed.

"Looks great." Taehyung got to his feet and joined them at the center of the room. "Let's get going. I have to stop and pick up a pack of cigarettes to stick under my sleeve."

Jennie managed to tear her gaze from Lisa's chest. She nodded, then turned to lead the way out.

The Rock 'n' Roll party was in full swing when they arrived. Jennie took one look at the dancers mostly women and winced. Some of them were very good. Some obviously didn't have a clue what they were doing. Jennie very much feared she would fall into the latter category.

"I suppose you know the dances?" she asked Lisa. At her pained expression, she grinned one of her rare grins and nodded.

"Very well, actually." Then she added, "I'll teach you." To Jennie, who was of the considered opinion that she had two left feet, that sounded very much like a threat. But Lisa was a very good teacher and, being one of so few, she was much in demand. She took everything with a good grace that nearly sent Jennie into coma from the shock. She watched her dance with twenty or so women at a time. She lined them up in rows, patiently teaching them steps amidst much giggling, then twirled the women about in the air with the strength and stamina of a bull. The women thought she was marvelous. Jennie did, too. She couldn't believe this was the same surly woman who'd once slammed a door in her face. This woman smiled. This woman had the patience of Job. Lisa was every woman's dream. She even let her teach her how to dance.

The party was great fun, but Jennie had suffered a stressful day and she found herself growing tired early. Lisa apparently noticed the yawns she was trying to hide. "You have to leave," she said, coming over and collecting her. she then lectured her all the way back to their suite mostly about not eating enough. She had apparently noticed she'd been too busy talking to her writers to eat more than a few bites from the buffet.

"I don't like it. You have to take better care of yourself," she insisted firmly. "You expend far too much time and energy on behalf of your writers, myself included," she complained.

Jennie tried to defend herself, pointing out that this was only one week a year.

Lis wasn't fool enough to fall for it. "Wendy mentioned many other conventions that are held throughout the year," she said. "And I hear you frequently work nights and even weekends, editing and reading books from your 'slush pile.' "

Jennie made a mental note to block Wendy from her Windows instant messenger after hours, if the author was going to go and tattle on her. She always kept her instant messenger signed on while she was in the office, in case one of her writers had a question. Wendy often berated her for working so much, but the last thing Jennie needed was Lisa knowing she had absolutely no social life.

Of course, she had apparently lost interest in pursuing the passion they had briefly shared. She hadn't tried anything since that first night and the morning after. That had been Tuesday and Wednesday. It was now Friday night, and other than holding her hand in a calming manner, Lisa hadn't done anything to initiate another such occurrence.

Of course, neither had she, Jennie admitted to herself. She eyed her consideringly. Perhaps

"You're going to bed the moment we get back in the room. And I don't want to see you again until at least seven a.m. That means ten hours of sleep. You need it," Lisa said firmly, interrupting her thoughts as they stepped out of the elevator.

Jennie sighed inwardly. There was no "perhaps" about it; the woman wasn't interested in bedding her any longer, and she had just made sure she wouldn't get the idea herself. Had those first two passionate encounters been caused purely by her need for blood? Perhaps she had deliberately seduced her only in an effort to "have a nibble." Perhaps she hadn't noticed her lack of true interest the first two times because she had been so overwhelmed, hadn't been aware of the fact that she might deliberately excite her only to bite her. She had certainly been aware of it the third time and noticed it then, but only until her practiced, deliberate assault on her senses had overwhelmed her. Perhaps she wasn't at all interested in her as anything but dinner.

Why had she thought otherwise? And when had it started to mean so much?

Jennie sighed unhappily as they entered their suite. It was rather disheartening to be nothing but a snack.

"Sleep well." Lisa gave her a gentle push toward her bedroom door, and Jennie went without comment. She managed to murmur good night before slipping inside, but that was just for pride's sake. Her shoulders slumped, her heart sore as she began to undress.

Lisa watched the door close behind Jennie and frowned to herself. The woman worked too hard, ate too little, and was killing herself to keep everyone happy including herself. She needed rest. She needed to eat more. And, above all, she needed to relax. She could think of many ways to help her do that. Unfortunately, most involved both of them naked, and she wasn't at all sure she would welcome that now that she knew the truth about her. It had been her experience that most women were repulsed by her being a vampire. Jennie certainly wasn't the first woman who had learned her secret over the years, and she had found, more often than not, they became afraid of her upon learning the truth. To keep herself and her family safe, she had often had to exert herself to veil their memories, or persuade them the revelation was just a dream.

Jennie hadn't appeared frightened, though. She'd seemed to look at her vampirism as just a problem. Lisa was a vampire, but she was also one of her most successful writers, and she needed blood. She had had to find her some. She had even been willing to indulge in intimacies in the women's washroom to accommodate her. Other than that, however, she had shown no sign of interest.

She recalled, her first night here and the first morning, when they had found themselves in passionate circumstances. But that had been before Jennie knew she was a vampire. She might very well find her repulsive now.

Suddenly aware of tension in her neck and shoulders, Lisa removed her leather jacket and tossed it over a chair. She rotated first one shoulder then the other, then her head as well, trying to ease the muscles there. It was Jennie's doing. she wished she knew what she was thinking and where she stood on the matter. She wanted her to want her. She wanted her. She grimaced. It was a foolish want. Jennie was a modern woman with career aspirations and a life and home in Seoul. She had left life in sleepy province to pursue a job in the publishing industry. She would hardly give that up to move to Jeju to carry out an affair and Lisa didn't know her well enough to be sure she wanted a life with her. For the average human, a bad marriage was only a forty- or fifty-year sentence; it could be much much longer for her.

Her gaze slid to the small bar in the corner, and she considered a Scotch before bed. She decided against it. She wasn't much of a drinker and didn't want to start relying on it. Alcohol had done serious damage toher father, Jiyong, even killing her in the end.

Shrugging, she decided she might as well go to sleep.

The first thing that struck her when she entered her room was the sweet smell of blood heavy in the air. Then she realized that the bedside lamp was on, and she stiffened. she had turned the light out before leaving for the ball. It was now on. Her body began to pump adrenaline even as her gaze swept the room.

The partially open fridge door, and the slashed bags of blood lying before it, explained the scent in the air. Other than that, nothing seemed disturbed. There didn't appear to be anyone around. Of course, the scent of blood was so thick,her usual ability to sense anyone nearby was hampered.

She took a step toward her looted blood supply, in-tending to see if anything was salvageable. But even as she did, she heard the whisper of the bedroom door swinging closed behind her. She whirled just in time to feel the stake slamming into her chest.

Jennie had removed her clothes and was debating whether to shower or simply go to bed when she heard a crash. She paused, her head tilting as she listened. When something slammed hard into the wall separating her room from Lisa's, she snatched for her robe, dragged it on, and tied the sash as she ran into the living room.

The door to Lisa's room was closed. Jennie didn't bother to knock, but thrust it open and rushed inside. She nearly crashed into two people locked in combat. At first, all she saw were the two of them grappling with each other; then she noticed the stake, its tip buried in Lisa's chest and blood seeping out. She shrieked in horror, though she didn't know it. She heard the yell as a distant sound.

At last, breaking out of her shock-induced paralysis, she glanced wildly around. The only weapon she could see were the bedside lamps. She ran to grab one, cursing when the damned thing didn't move. It was fastened to the bedside table. Her gaze shot back to Lisa and her assailant. There was more blood, and it seemed to her the stake had gone deeper. Lisa appeared to be weakening. Yet there wasn't a single damned thing around to use as a weapon. Desperate, she grabbed a pillow and ran over, batting at the stranger, then slamming the pillow into his head and shoulders. Her attack had little effect on the man. He didn't even glance around.

Letting loose a howl of rage as her gaze shifted to Lisa's pale face, Jennie caught the pillow at each end and swung it over the attacker's head and slammed it into his face. Pulling it tight, she proceeded to try to climb the fellow's back. Much to her relief, he released Lisa and stumbled backward, trying to grab wildly at her. She managed to avoid his flailing hands, and held on to the pillow with all her might. He couldn't possibly breathe like this, and she was praying he would pass out before he managed to get her.

She released an "oomph," but managed to stay on his back as she staggered back into the wall next to the closet. Jennie held on, knowing both she and Lisa were lost if she didn't.

Jennie glanced desperately at Lisa. She was on her knees by the bed, her hands weakly gripping the stake in her chest. She recalled her saying that a stake would kill her if left in too long, and she knew she had to get to her fast. Her thoughts were scattered as the man she was riding slammed backward again, this time propelling them into the closet. Jennie grunted as her head slammed into the clothing rod.

The pain was like an explosion inside her head, blinding her with searing white flashes behind her eyes. She wanted to grab his head and hold it in her hands until the agony passed, but she couldn't let go of the pillow and so hung there blind and in agony, clinging to consciousness by a thread.

When the pain finally began to wane, Jennie wasn't sure how much time had passed. It took a moment before she realized her view had changed. She was lower to the ground. She turned her attention to the man she clung to, and she saw that he had sunk to his knees, taking her with him. She let her feet drop to the floor, her gaze returning to Lisa. Alarm again coursed through her. She was slumped forward, her head down. Realizing that she couldn't wait any longer for her assailant to pass out from lack of oxygen, she released one end of the pillow to search around the floor of the closet.

She tried to keep the pillow in place over the man's face with her one hand, but she was aware she was failing. She heard him taking great gasps of air, and she knew it wouldn't take long for him to recoup enough to become a serious threat again. That thought had barely managed to panic her when Jennie's searching hand bumped something. She snatched it up, recognizing it for a shoe, and without a thought slammed it down on her attacker's head. she didn't immediately fall forward under the blow, and she realized she was holding the shoe by the heel. She gave up on holding the pillow in place, turned the shoe around and this time slammed the heel down on the back of her enemy's skull with all the strength she could muster.

Much to her satisfaction, the blow worked the man fell soundlessly forward on his face. Leaving him where he lay, Jennie struggled to her feet and stumbled over to Lisa.

The first thing she did was grab her by the shoulders and urge her up. she fell onto her back without a sound. Her head slammed against the floor, hard, and her knees bent, her lower legs caught under her. Jennie peered at her unhappily. She was gray. She had never seen her this color. But there wasn't much blood lost that she could tell. The stake still protruded from her chest, allowing only a bit of seepage. But she recalled her saying the heart couldn't pump with a stake there, and she knew that if she didn't remove it, she would die.

The stake was made of the light wood usually found at do-it-yourself places, and it looked like a dowel or something. Lisa's attacker had bought and sharpened a dowel to a point so that he could stake Lisa. Now she would have to unstake her or she would die.

She didn't waste time thinking about what she was doing; she knew that every second counted. Reaching out, she grabbed the dowel firmly and pulled it free which wasn't as easy as she'd expected. She hadn't really thought about it, but if she had, Jennie supposed she would have expected it to pull free like a knife from butter. Lisa's body wasn't butter. There was some resistance to the removal, and she had to exert some strength. The sloppy squelching sound as she removed it made what little food she'd managed to down at supper threaten to make an encore appearance.

Jennie swallowed determinedly. Tossing the stake aside, she quickly covered the wound in Lisa's chest as blood began to pour out in great gushes. She applied pressure in an effort to keep her from bleeding to death, praying all the while that her blood would repair the damage. As she sat there, she wondered if she was really helping to save her or killing her.

She sat like that for several minutes, just pressing down on her chest, until a moan from Lisa's attacker warned that she was coming around. She felt torn between staying to hold in Lisa's blood, or somehow incapacitating the man again. It seemed to her that if the man came around, she and Lisa would probably both be dead. Surely he would finish Lisa off, then kill her as a witness. On the other hand, she would risk Lisa's bleeding to death if she left her.

Her gaze slid back to Lisa's face and she hesitated, then cautiously removed her hands from her chest. Much to her relief, blood didn't come gushing out as before. Her body was repairing itself. She hoped so, or she was dead.

Banishing that thought, Jennie got to her feet and peered around the room for something to tie up their enemy. She spotted the black backpack with all the burglary paraphernalia, and relief soaked through her. She had handed it to Lisa to take the blood with her and never bothered to ask for it back. Hurrying to it, she found the rope, but tossed that aside and snatched up the duct tape and the knife instead. She wasn't very good with knots. Besides, she suspected the tape would be harder for the man to get free.

Another groan from her attacker made Jennie rush to his side. She pulled his hands behind him back and quickly began wrapping tape around his wrists, running the roll between his lower arms and hands for good measure. Once satisfied that he couldn't free himself, she moved to his feet and bound his ankles the same way. Then she rolled him onto his back so that she lay on his bound hands, and began to wrap tape over his mouth and around his head. It would be a bitch to get the tape off his hair, but she didn't care. He deserved that and more.

Jennie was just finishing when the attacker's eyes suddenly blinked open. He gave a start as he jerked, trying to break free. Hatred blazed from his eyes. She met his gaze for a moment, then finished with the tape, ignoring his useless struggles.

Had Lisa been a normal woman, she would have called the police. But Lisa wasn't a normal. How could she explain the situation? Jennie's gaze swept the room, falling on the partially open fridge door and the slashed bags of blood. She couldn't explain any of this to the police. No, she was on her own.

Pushing herself to her feet, Jennie moved almost reluctantly back to Lisa's side. Then she hesitated, unsure what to do. There still didn't appear to be a great deal of blood loss. On the other hand, she suspected it would probably take a lot of blood to repair the damage done to Lisa. She would need blood.

Her eyes went to her mouth. She didn't seem to be breathing, let alone in any shape to drink from her. On the other hand, she saw that the wound in her chest was not gushing. It wasn't bleeding at all. If anything, she was sure the hole was smaller and there was less blood present.

Jennie recalled that Lisa had said that something in her blood used blood to repair injuries. Was it using that blood even now? Could it repair her and keep her alive if she was still alive.

Jennie leaned forward and grabbed the ragged edges of Lisa's T-shirt where the stake had torn it. She rent it open, pulling one long strip of cloth free. Setting it on the floor next to her, she shifted her head over Lisa's chest for a closer look at her wound. Yes, there was definitely less blood. Surely, that was a sign she still lived?

Biting her lip, she glanced down at the knife in her hand. she couldn't feed off her. But could she feed her?

Acting before she could think about it and change her mind, Jennie slashed her wrist, then she held it over her wound, allowing her blood to drip freely into it. She stayed like that, stopping only when she started to feel a little lightheaded. Then she quickly grabbed the slip of T-shirt she had ripped free. Using that, she tightly bandaged her wrist. It was an awkward procedure, but she managed.

At last, Jennie sat back and cast a glance at the man who had attacked Lisa. He was where she had left him, still tightly trussed. If he had fought the binding, it was holding fast. Noting that with relief, she turned her attention back to Lisa. Her eyes were still closed, her face pale and still. she didn't open her eyes or smile at her as she had hoped. The wound wasn't closing miraculously. It wasn't anything like the movies. She wished it were.

Jennie resolved herself to a long vigil. She wasn't at all sure she would open those golden brown eyes again, but she wasn't going to give up either.

Weariness overtaking her, Jennie shifted to lie beside her and rested her aching head on her uninjured shoulder. She lay there in silence for a moment, listening, but no heartbeat met her ears. The stake had stopped her heart. She just wasn't sure if it had stopped it for good.

"Come back to me, Lisa," she whispered, closing her eyes to shut out the light. "Please."