Orlando asked me to sit down, but I can’t. I’m too stressed by his non-explanation. He knows how strange it is that I knew his mother’s cookie recipe without having heard of it or tried it before. He has answers, yet he sits at the counter in my kitchen, muttering non-explanations that don’t do me a lick of good.
“Spill it, Orlando,” Declan demands, though not unkindly. “Why is my sister freaked out over cookies, and why do you look like you might cry after eating one?”
Orlando keeps his eyes from me. “How much do you know about vampires mating?”
Declan and I look at each other. It’s not what either of us were expecting Orlando might say.
Declan’s face pulls. “Uh, not much. It’s not all that common, from what I remember. Occasionally a vampire couple mates. They have a more intense connection. Like they’re the only two people on the planet or something. I dunno. Romance movie stuff.”
“Sure, romance movie stuff, but there’s more to it than that. Do you know about the mating ritual?”
Declan’s eyes roll toward the ceiling. “Ah, jeez. I don’t need to hear about weird vampire sex.”
Orlando’s upper lip curls. “This involves your sister, so I’d smarten up, if I were you. I can just as easily have this conversation with Colette alone. There’s no need for you to be here.”
Declan crosses his arms over his chest. “Go on. Vampire mating ritual. Educate us. They don’t cover that in sex ed at our school.”
Orlando runs his hand through his hair, looking like he would rather not be talking about any of this. “It’s not well spelled out in our neighborhood, either. I don’t know of any who are mated in Mayfield anymore. There was a couple a few years ago, but they passed. The mechanics are more hearsay, bordering on mythology.” Orlando pinches the bridge of his nose. This is far more words than he is used to speaking in one sitting. I can tell it’s taxing on him.
I move to his side, rounding the counter so I can place my palm on his shoulder. My big sweetie pie always looks like he is carrying a heavier load than most, yet he never asks for a thing in return.
I rub a soothing circle on his back. “Tell me.”
Orlando keeps his gaze fixed on the table, his cheeks turning pink. “Mating is… Two vampires fall in love, and…”
This is the most awkward version of the birds and the bees I’ve ever heard, and I had to listen to the sheriff fumble through it when I was ten. I want to remove my hand from Orlando’s back, but that somehow seems like it might make things even more uncomfortable.
Orlando clears his throat. “Sometimes they share a connection that’s more intense than nature has room for. I don’t know much about the transformation, but the moment it happens, the man’s body and the woman’s body go through this sort of… I don’t know, like they’re dying, but not really. It’s more like the start of a rebirth. Then the guy gives her his blood. His blood is the thing that seals it. They become tied on a whole new level. Almost a psychic connection.”
I have no idea why we’re talking about this, or what it has to do with Orlando’s mother’s cookies. Still, I listen. If Orlando wants to start being more vulnerable and talking about his life, that’s a good thing. I can be patient even though he makes absolutely no sense.
Orlando angles his body toward me. “When you were in the bedroom with Rome, he mentioned… he said you stopped breathing. So did he.”
I freeze. “Yeah, but only for half a minute or so. Not sure what happened, but I’m okay now. There was like, a booming sound. Something snapped inside of me, and I couldn’t breathe for a bit.”
My brother watches us both as if we are a fascinating show about wild animals. “You stopped breathing? Isn’t that the kind of thing your doctor should know about?”
“It wasn’t a long enough occurrence to be a legitimate problem.”
Declan motions to himself. “Fine. Isn’t that the kind of thing your brother, who is a medic, should know about?”
I shoot Declan a look of sheer exasperation. “I’m fine. Orlando, I’m really okay. I didn’t know you were worried about that still. It was weeks ago.”
Orlando still won’t look up at me. “You were freezing. Rome told me you stopped breathing. That you said you loved him while you two were… and then you stopped breathing. He was worried you two might have…” He shakes his head. “But it’s impossible.”
Declan’s nose scrunches. “Rome was worried that my sister stopped breathing because they were… what? He thought they were in the middle of a vampire mating ritual? That’s ridiculous. She’s not a vampire.”
Orlando rolls his eyes at Declan. “I know that. He knows that. But it got a little too real. Dating someone is hard for Rome, but it worked with you, Coco. But it’s on the furthest edge of what he’s capable of committing to—a secret relationship with separate homes and all that.”
My mouth tightens. “He asked me if he could have a drawer, then he freaks out because he thought some weird vampire ritual was happening that might make us closer?” I shake my head at myself. “Boy, do I know how to pick them.”
Orlando rests his hand on the counter. “He freaked out because the weird vampire ritual actually did start to happen. It’s not anything as temporary as dating, or even as wedding vows. It’s a soul connection, a psychic link. You’re tethered together in ways normal people like us can’t even imagine. But the thing is, it has to be two ways. You both started the vampire mating ritual, and he needed to finish it by giving you his blood to drink.”
I gape at him. “I did no such thing! I didn’t mate with him. It’s called making out, which is nothing as scandalous as you’re making it sound. I wouldn’t even know how to do something like that.”
Orlando grinds his fists into his forehead. “I’m explaining it wrong. It’s like some part of your being or soul or whatever wants to link itself to his. Then his soul or being or whatever has to link itself to yours. It’s bigger than sex. Bigger than love, even.”
Anger the likes of which I try never to feel at full volume flares up inside of me. “Well, isn’t that fantastic? I put myself out there, and he ran. Awesome. I don’t know why we have to talk about it, or how you know more about my body and my breakup than I do. Oh, probably because he told you what happened before he ran out on me. Must be nice. I got to be afraid that I couldn’t breathe, smack in the middle of my boyfriend running out on me with no explanation. Screw him! And screw you, Orlando, for keeping this from me for weeks now. You realize I had nothing to do with any of this. I’m not a vampire! Whatever you’re thinking my being or my soul did, it didn’t. I’m human. I should think that logic would be obvious to you both.”
Orlando lowers his head like a scolded pup.
“And I thought I told you both not to talk about him or say his name in front of me. This is exactly the kind of conversation I don’t want to have.” I stomp towards the front door. “I need some air. When I come back, I don’t want to talk about this from now until the end of eternity.”
Orlando stands, surprising me by following after me. “You were freezing,” he explains, once again not making a lick of sense. “You were icy to the touch no matter how many layers you had on, or how hot I cranked the thermostat. You lost your sense of taste. You weren’t sleeping.”
“That last one is typical of every breakup ever. And the first one is typical of most smaller women when winter is on the way. What’s your point?”
“Your soul needs its mate. You started the ritual. Your body is off because Rome didn’t complete it.”
My upper lip curls. “My body is amazing, and none of your business, thank you very much.” I grab my coat and punch my arms into the sleeves. “My soul and my body don’t need any man for anything ever!”
“Your hat,” Orlando reminds me, reaching to the top shelf of the closet to grab down a knitted cap. Trouble is still brewing behind his eyes as more of his confession bubbles out. “I didn’t mean to mess with the mating ritual. You were freezing. Your teeth were chattering. You wandered through the halls at night like a zombie, and I knew Rome wasn’t coming back.”
“Do not say his name in my house! Do you think I want to talk about this with you?!” I shout, fisting the knob and throwing the door open. I march out into the cold, regretting this choice in the first few steps. It’s bitter out, and I’ve been having a hard time holding onto heat.
Which proves nothing, other than that it is winter. Obviously.
Orlando shuffles out onto the walkway a step behind me, unwilling to let me stomp off in a rage. “I was trying to help, so I went out on a limb to test a theory. Maybe you didn’t need Rome’s blood to settle your body. Maybe it was just any vampire’s blood. Or a vampire’s blood that was genetically similar to Ro...” He flinches at saying the name I have forbidden. “Maybe you needed blood that was similar to Mister Valentino’s.”
My steps slow as his words hit me like a ton of bricks.
Declan trots behind us, unwilling to let this story end partway through. “What did you do, Orlando?”
His eyes close as he stops walking. He waits for me to turn toward him before he speaks. “There’s a reason my tea calms you down and helps you sleep. Your body was trying to mate with… with Mister Valentino. It was in crisis when he left the ritual undone. I thought…” Orlando rubs the nape of his neck. “I thought it would bind you two together so you could get some sleep.”
“Do you think I want to be bound to a selfish baby who runs out on me when I’m choking to death?!” I can’t stop screeching my ire. “You had no right to tie me to him. He didn’t want that, and neither do I!” I stop myself and shake my head, willing sense to come back into my brain. “None of this is possible, Orlando. I’m not a vampire! I kill vampires, remember?”
Declan’s nose scrunches. “This is beyond insane, Orlando. You’re the sensible one.”
Orlando hugs himself around the middle. “My cousin will come back. He panicked, is all. I don’t want you to be dead from hypothermia before he comes to his senses. But it didn’t work. Or it didn’t work how I thought it would. I’ve been putting a few drops of my blood into your tea, Coco. I hoped if you drank my blood, it would tether you to him, but that’s not what happened.”
I am shivering, but I’m not sure that’s what has set my lower lip quivering. “What, then? What happened?”
Orlando’s voice quiets. “You had the urge to bake oatmeal raisin cookies with caramel popcorn in them. My mother’s recipe. You said yourself that you didn’t know how to make caramel corn. You just guessed and it turned out.”
I rest my fist on my hip. “I cannot follow your ADD today, Orlando. What are you trying to say?”
I can see very little from the front porch light’s glow, but the shadows under Orlando’s eyes are clear as day. “Today is the anniversary of my mother’s death.”
All fight leaves me in a gust, pushing me toward him. “What? Oh, honey. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” My hand rests on his arm, putting aside my irritation with him because that is not as important as his grief.
Declan swears, though it doesn’t sound like regret; it’s more like Declan stumbled into a revelation that thus far, has eluded me. “You don’t think…”
“What?” I look from Declan to Orlando, but neither of them seems to want to fill in the blanks for me.
Orlando covers my hand on his arm with his palm, holding me fast to him. “My blood didn’t mate you with Rome.” He swallows hard and stares into my eyes with meaningful regret and worry. “I’m fairly certain that my blood finished the mating ritual, but it didn’t bond you with my cousin. It bonded you to me.”