Maybe that was what happened when you faced the very worst thing in the world. She'd lost her family and her old life and maybe even her childhood, but she'd found herself. And that would have to do.
She pulled the white dress over her head and changed into a T-shirt and sweatpants. Then she walked out to James, head high.
He was in the bedroom, lying on a full-sized bed made up with light brown sheets. He was still wearing his dirty clothes, and he had one arm crooked over his eyes. When Poppy came in, he stirred.
"I'll go sleep on the couch," he said.
"No, you won't," Poppy said firmly. She flopped on the bed beside him. "You're dead tired. And I know I'm safe with you."
James grinned without moving his arm. "Because I'm dead tired?"
"Because I've always been safe with you." She knew that. Even when she'd been a human and her blood must have tempted him, she'd been safe.
She looked at him as he lay there, brown hair ruffled, body lax, Adidas unlaced and caked with soil. She found his elbows endearing.
"I forgot to mention something before," she said. "I only realized I forgot when I was . . . going to sleep. I forgot to mention that I love you."
James sat up. "You only forgot to say it with words."
Poppy felt a smile tugging at her lips. That was the amazing thing, the only purely good thing about what had happened to her. She and James had come together. Their relationship had changed-but it still had everything she'd valued in their old relationship. The understanding, the camaraderie. Now on top of that was the new excitement of discovering each other as more than best friends.
And she'd found the part of him that she had never been able to reach before. She knew his secrets, knew him inside out.
Humans could never know each other that way. They could never really get into another person's head. All the talking in the world couldn't even prove that you and the other person both saw the same color red.
And if she and James never mer ged like two drops of water again, she would always be able to touch his mind.
A little shy, she leaned against him, resting on his shoulder. In all the times they'd been dose, they'd never kissed or been romantic. For now, just sitting here like this was enough, just feeling James breathe and hearing his heart and absorbing his warmth. And his arm around her shoulders was almost too much, almost too intense to bear, but at the same time it was safe and peaceful.
It was like a song, one of those sweet, wrenching songs that makes the hair on your arms stand up. That makes you want to throw yourself on the floor and just bawl. Or fall backward and surrender to the music utterly. One of those songs.
James cupped her hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed the palm.
I told you. You don't love somebody because of their looks or their clothes or their car. You love them because they sing a song that nobody but you can understand.
Poppy's heart swelled until it hurt.
Aloud she said, "We always understood the same song, even when we were little."
"In the Night World there's this idea called the soulmate principle. It says that every person has one soulmate out there, just one. And that person is perfect for you and is your destiny.
The problem being that almost nobody ever finds their soulmate, just because of, distance. So most people go through their whole lives feeling not complete."
"I think it's the truth. I always knew you were perfect for me."
"Not always. "
"Oh, yes. Since I was five. I knew."
"I'd have known you were perfect for me-except that everything I'd been taught said it was hopeless." He cleared his throat and added, "That is why I went out With Michaela and those other girls, you know. I didn't care about them. I could get dose to them without breaking the law."
"I know," Poppy said. "I mean-I think I always knew it was something like that, underneath." She added, "James? What am I now?" Some things she could tell instinctively; she could feel them in her blood. But she wanted to know more, and she knew James understood why. This was her life now. She had to learn the rules.
"Well." He settled against the headboard, head tilted back as she rested under his chin. "You're pretty much like me. Except for not being able to age or have families, made vampires are basically like the lamia." He shifted. "Let's see. You already know about being able to see and hear better than humans. And you're a whiz at reading minds."
"Not everybody's mind."
"No vampire can read everybody's mind. Lots of times all I get is a sort of general feeling for what people are thinking. The only certain way to make a connection is to-" James opened his mouth and clicked his teeth. Poppy giggled as the sound traveled through her skull.
"And how often do I have to-?" She clicked her own teeth.
"Feed." She felt James getting serious. "About once a day on average. Otherwise you'll go into the bloodlust. You can eat human food if you want, but there's no nutrition in it. Blood is everything for us."
"And the more blood, the more power."
"Basically, yes."
"Tell me about power. Can we-well, what can we do?"
"We have more control over our bodies than humans. We can heal from almost any kind of injuryexcept from wood. Wood can hurt us, even kill us." He snorted. "So there's one thing the movies have right-a wooden stake through the heart will, in fact, kill a vampire. So will burning."
"Can we change into animals?"
"I've never met any vampire that powerful. But theoretically it's possible for us, and shapeshifters and werewolves do it all the time."