I meet June at Prospect Park after sunset. Find her on a bench near the boathouse with a stack of printed articles and a notebook filled with cramped handwriting.
She stands when she sees me approaching. Doesn't move closer. Keeps the bench between us like a barrier.
Her voice comes out steady despite the fear in her eyes.
"I've been reading. Researching. Is it... are you in pain?"
I stop five feet away. Hands in my pockets.
"No."
Her grip tightens on her notebook.
"Do you have to kill people?"
"No. Dorian brings willing donors. People who want it."
Her eyebrows pull together.
"Does it hurt them?"
I shake my head.
"The opposite."
"The opposite." She repeats it flat. Testing the words. "So you're saying people pay to be bitten?"
"Some do. Others just like the feeling."
"The feeling of being drained."
"The feeling of the bite. It releases endorphins. Makes them high."
June's jaw works. She looks down at her notebook.
"What about сrosses? Holy water?"
"No."
"Stakes?"
I nod. "Through the heart. Or decapitation."
"Can you die?"
"Yes."
The word lands heavy. June's hand goes to her throat. Touches the place where Sabine bit her.
"You fought her."
"Yes."
"She could have killed you."
"She didn't."
"But she could have." June's voice rises. "You're telling me you challenged a vampire to a fight you might not win because she pushed me into traffic?"
"Yes."
"That's insane."
"I love you."
Long silence. A dog barks somewhere across the lake. June stares at her hands.
When she speaks again, her voice cracks.
"I'm trying to understand."
I take a careful step forward.
"You don't have to. You can walk away. I won't blame you."
June looks up. Tears running down her face.
"You're my best friend. I'm not losing you to this."
Something in my chest loosens. I sit on the bench. Leave space between us.
June wipes her face with her sleeve. Laughs wetly.
"Do you remember the night we met? That party junior year where some senior tried to spike my drink and you dumped it on his head?"
I smile.
"I remember the suspension was worth it."
"I knew then. Knew you'd always show up when it mattered." She wipes her eyes again. "You drove to Vermont at two AM because I had a nightmare. Do you remember that?"
"Of course."
"And I hid you in my basement for a week when your parents kicked you out."
"I remember."
June's face crumples. She covers it with both hands. Her shoulders shake.
I want to reach for her. Want to close the distance. But I stay still. Let her decide.
"I'm scared of you," she says into her hands. "I'm terrified. When you showed me your fangs, when you moved that fast, I wanted to run."
"Then run."
"But I can't." She drops her hands. Looks at me with red-rimmed eyes. "Because it's still you. Under all of it." She wipes her nose with her sleeve. "Yes, I'm scared. But I'm not leaving."
We trade memories like currency. Small moments that added up to a foundation neither of us realized we were building. The time June broke up with her first girlfriend and I stayed up all night with her. The time I failed my finals and she helped me study for retakes. A thousand small moments strung together like lights.
"I need time," June's voice is quiet.
I nod.
"Take all the time you need."
She looks at me.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"Do you regret it? Becoming this?"
The question hangs between us. Honest. Raw.
"No."
"Not even a little?"
"Not even a little."
June processes this. Nods slowly.
"What about your parents? Do they know?"
"They know I'm gone. They don't know what I am."
"Are you going to tell them?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because they'd try to fix me. Try to save me from myself." I lean back against the bench. "They'd call priests. Exorcists. They'd make it about them."
"That sounds like them."
"They haven't stopped calling. Haven't stopped leaving messages."
"Have you listened to them?"
"No."
June picks at her thumbnail. "Do you miss them?"
"No."
"Liar."
I turn to look at her. She's watching me with that expression that says she knows me better than I know myself.
"Maybe a little," I admit. "Not them. The idea of them. What they could have been if they'd been different people."
"That's grief."
"I know."
"It's okay to feel it."
"I don't want to feel it."
"Too bad." June's voice softens. "You don't get to turn that off. Not even as a vampire."
Silence settles. A jogger passes, headphones in, oblivious. The lake reflects park lights in broken pieces.
"What about Dorian?" June asks. "Do you love him?"
The question catches me off guard. "Yes."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Because you love him or because he's the only one who understands what you are now?"
"Both."
"That's honest."
"You asked."
"Does he love you back?"
"He says he does."
"Do you believe him?"
I think about the way he holds me. The way he teaches me to fight. The way he looked at me when I won against Sabine.
"Yes."
"Good." June stands. Brushes off her jeans. "Because if he hurts you, vampire or not, I'll find a way to kill him."
"June—"
"I mean it. Best friend privilege. I get to threaten your boyfriend."
I laugh. Actual laughter that feels like it's been trapped in my chest for weeks.
"Noted."
"Okay." She stands. "Okay."
She hesitates. Then pulls me into a quick tight hug before stepping back.
"Text me sometimes. So I know you're alive." She pauses. "Well. Whatever counts as alive now."
"I will."
I watch her walk away. Shoulders straight. Heading toward the lit path.
I take the long way home. Walk through neighborhoods I haven't seen in weeks. Past my old apartment building. The coffee shop where I used to study. The bodega that knew my order.
My old life feels like something that happened to someone else.
By the time I reach Dorian's building it's past midnight. He's awake. Standing by the window with a drink he hasn't touched.
He turns when I enter. Reads the answer on my face before I speak.
"She didn't run."
Dorian crosses the room. Pulls me against him.
His voice is quiet against my hair.
"No. She didn't."