My Ice Prince - стр. 33
I looked at her nose: indeed, the earring was gone, but there was a small but rather repulsive hole. I felt uncomfortable, so I looked away.
– Mary, I wanted to say… Don't swear… My bike was stolen» I said in an apologetic tone.
Mary giggled, which surprised me: our bicycle was stolen and she was laughing!
– It's not a big deal! I've had it stolen six times, and that's because it doesn't have a lock on it! – she said cheerfully. – Don't be upset! Tomorrow we'll go to the police and report it.
– I've already reported it» I said, feeling proud of what I'd done.
– All the more reason to report it. Oxford is a city of bicycles, and they go missing a lot, but they're always found. You left them a phone number, didn't you?
– Yes, and the address too… And I wondered why the policeman was smiling like that! – I laughed: when I gave him my address, he looked at me with a smile. He must have taken this particular bicycle theft report more than once.
–Do you mind if I borrow the bathroom for a couple of hours? – Mary asked, pulling a large fluffy towel out of the cupboard.
– No, of course not. I'm going to go to bed. – I got to my feet. – Just give me your phone number, just in case.
– Okay, write it down.
Mary dictated her number to me and I wrote it down on my smartphone.
Mary started going through the nightstand.
– Where the hell is that gel? Did I forget it in Scotland? Misha, can I borrow yours?
I was a bit taken aback, but I brought her my shower gel.
«I must make sure I drink blood tonight when Mary's asleep, it's the third day». – I thought as I locked myself in my bedroom.
Suddenly Mary's voice came from outside the door:
– «Misha, open up! I'll switch on the fireplace for you, or you'll freeze at night: it's terribly cold outside!
I opened the door, Mary came in, switched on the fireplace, wished me good night and left. A minute later I heard the sound of water in the bathtub. So as not to hear Mary taking a water bath, I put my headphones in my ears, opened my laptop, turned on some music, and logged onto social media to chat with some of my own. Only Maria was online, and I was happy to lie to her: that I lived alone, that I didn't talk to anyone, that I was considered a bitch and an arrogant girl, and that people were tedious and I had no desire to communicate with them. I lied, because I couldn't tell her the truth lest she rush over and take me back under her parents' wing.
At four o'clock in the morning, I switched off the music and the laptop, listened and heard Mary's steady breathing: she was asleep. So I went to the kitchen, silently, without switching on the light, took one of the juice pouches out of the fridge, poured the blood into a glass and began to drink it slowly, savouring it, feeling the pleasure spilling over my body, filling my mind with a light fog. I drank all two litres of blood, crumpled the empty bag into a small ball, threw it in the bin, washed the glass thoroughly, went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth and, feeling a frantic rush of energy and a pleasant feeling of satiety in my body, filled the bathtub with water and lay in it for several hours.
At six o'clock in the morning I went for a run, got dressed, even put on a warm jumper so as not to look strange, and went in to Mary's room, for she had said she would run with me.