Chapter 12: Awakening in the Sun

I can't believe she just said that and left. I don't know whether I should be sad or angry right now, but I guess I can be both. Well… I suppose she was right. Maybe I was being a bit clingy, but can you really blame me? I'd just been thrust into a whole new world, like a newborn baby. And a newborn needs all the help it can get.

Whatever. I'm not going to stay here and drown in my feelings.

I stood up and made my way out of the diner. The young lady smiled at me as I passed, and I smiled back, feeling a flicker of warmth. I walked out of the lobby and onto the street, taking a deep breath.

"Fresh air," I muttered to myself.

The city around me wasn't as overwhelming as last night. I was gradually learning how to filter the countless voices, movements, and sensations all around me. Footsteps approached and receded; water boiled in a nearby apartment; chairs scraped across floors somewhere in the distance. Heartbeats. There were so many heartbeats, I could feel each one, yet I could choose which to notice. And the smells—the odours of life everywhere—I could detect everything, from garbage bins to freshly baked bread. I walked past a bakery and could pick out every ingredient in the cakes, even the ones I didn't know the names of: the tang of yeast, the sharpness of sugar, the buttery richness of pastry, the faint hint of vanilla, even the subtle trace of eggs. And now I could control it—I could choose which sound, which smell, which sensation to focus on.

I let out a big smile. I could really get used to this. For the first time, I felt on top of the world, almost invisible in the crowd, yet fully aware of everything around me.

Then I remembered Mark. I can't just ignore him for the rest of my life. He's been a good friend, especially when I needed him most. And to hell with what Juliet said—there's no way I could feed on him. Even if I don't communicate with anyone else, Mark has to be an exception. I need to get back to town—and fast—before Juliet finds out.

But I couldn't leave like this. I needed clean clothes and a shower. So I ended my walk and headed back to the hotel.

When I walked into the lobby, I saw Juliet staring in the direction of the diner. Wow. She actually cares. Part of me wanted to walk up to her, but I remembered her warning: I need to learn to be by myself. That's exactly what I intended to do. When I noticed she started heading out, I quickly slipped back a few blocks and hid in a corner, listening to her footsteps as they drew closer. I thought she was going to catch me—but then she stopped. I saw her get into a taxi heading north. Now I was in the clear.

I went back to the hotel room. Immediately, I realized I didn't have any clean clothes. Hell, I didn't even know whose clothes I was wearing right now. I decided to go through Juliet's wardrobe—she liked wearing unisex clothes, so it was the safest bet. I opened her wardrobe and didn't have to search for long: grey cargo shorts and a dark blue oversized shirt.

"Perfect," I muttered to myself.

I stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash over me. Within minutes, I was done, feeling cleaner and more composed. I stepped out into the world again, feeling ready to face whatever came next.

Outside, an elderly woman walked past me. I gently held her arm and said, "I'm sorry to disturb you, ma."

She turned toward me. "It's okay, my son. What do you need?"

"I'm new here, and I'm wondering where the nearest bank is," I said.

"Oh, it's just right ahead of you," she said, pointing. "Just keep walking straight for about three minutes, and you'll see a UBA Bank to your left."

"Thanks so much, ma. Have a nice day."

"You too, my dear," she replied and continued on her way.

I followed her directions and, sure enough, the bank appeared to my left after only a short walk. Everything was exactly as she had described.I walked in, and luckily for me, there was no queue. Today really was my lucky day. I wondered, do you just get this lucky when you're a vampire? I withdrew some cash from the ATM and stepped back onto the sidewalk, scanning for a cab. I waited a while, but none appeared.

Then, across the street, I saw a girl in an expensive outfit. Our eyes met, and she gave me a flirtatious smile. I smiled back and waved. Life was good.

Soon after, a cab approached. I stopped it and slid into the back seat.

"Kuje Park," I said.

"Six thousand naira," the driver replied.

"No problem," I said, not even flinching. Money wasn't an issue anymore, I told myself.

As we drove, the sun rose higher, and I felt my strength ebbing. The rush of adrenaline that had been surging through my veins earlier was gone. Fatigue crept in, and I started ducking from the sun's reflection, though it was impossible to avoid completely.

By the time we arrived at Kuje Park, I felt drained. I slowly stepped out and paid the driver, then wove my way through the crowd. The voices—the countless human thoughts and movements—were harder to ignore now, but I focused, blocking out what I could.

Since it was Sunday, I guessed Mark would still be sleeping. I wondered how he'd react when he saw me.

As I struggled through the crowd, my blood began to boil. My temperature spiked, and the heat pressed down on me like a physical weight. I made a quick detour to a local grocery store, hoping to cool down.

The instant I entered, the air-conditioning hit me like relief. I headed for the fridges and grabbed a cold bottle of water. At the counter, the attendant—one of Mark and my friends—greeted me. We exchanged a few words, but I wasn't really listening. All I could feel was the blood, the pull, the hunger.

Then I heard him mutter, "Ouch."

I looked at his hand. He had cut his finger. And I couldn't care about what had caused it—all I could see was the blood, slow and glistening as it dripped. My mouth watered. My instincts screamed. I barely held myself back. My knuckles whitened on the counter.

I had to get out.

Without paying for the water, I bolted from the store. "What about your water?" the attendant shouted after me, but I couldn't stop now. I was back in the sunlight. My senses blurred, my mind spinning. I couldn't navigate. I wished Juliet was here.

Squinting against the sun, I made my way back to the park, waving down another cab and leaping inside. I was panting uncontrollably.

"Oga, are you okay?" the driver asked.

"Yes. Just… take me to…" I tried to remember the hotel's name, but it escaped me.

"Take you where?" the driver snapped.

"Asokoro… Juliet… Juliet's hotel."

"Juliet's hotel? Oh, you mean Juliettes."

Right—that was it. "Yes. Juliettes hotel. And don't worry, I'll pay you any amount."

I didn't fully register what the driver said, but we were moving. I laid back in the seat, trying desperately to shield myself from the sun, and stayed there until we arrived.

"Oga, we are here," the driver said.

I rolled out of the cab onto the pavement. The driver jumped down to help me to my feet.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I couldn't answer. My focus was on survival. I dug into my wallet, paid him, and he left once he saw I could stand.

I staggered into the hotel lobby, letting the blast of air-conditioning wash over me. Strength returned gradually, and I raced to the elevator.

Once inside the room, my eyes fell on my coffin. Relief surged. I threw open the lid, crept inside, and closed it. Darkness enve

loped me, heavy and comforting.

For the first time in my life, I had never felt so scared.