CHELSEY’S CONDITION WORRIED me. In fact, after she drank another package of blood, later in the evening, she was violently sick again. This time, I went to Mira’s bedroom door and knocked.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, her eyes bleary from sleep.
I explained what had happened, relieved that I had a former nurse living in the condo.
“That’s not normal?” she asked.
“No. I mean, I don’t think so. I’ve never heard of it happening, at least.”
“You poor dear. Look at how frightened you are. This girl must be very special.”
“You have no idea,” I said. At that moment, I couldn’t imagine living without Chelsey and to see her so ill, scared the hell out of me.
“Let me get my robe on,” she said, turning away.
When we made it back to my bedroom, Chelsey was lying in bed, looking exhausted and pal
