Sixth.
I woke a short time later with my head pounding. My heart was struggling to pump the miniscule amount of blood left in my veins. It took me almost ten minutes to sit up, my vision was cloudy, my breathing fast and shallow. I gathered as much strength as I could and I twisted around trying to get to my feet. After a few feeble attempts I had only managed to get to my knees. I rocked back onto the balls of my feet three times and slowly straightened, I was up, but almost as quickly I started to collapse. At least this time I had gotten the top half of my body into the truck.
I looked up and saw my backpack was within reach so I slid my arm along the carpeted floor and pulled out a bottle of blood, but I knew that I couldn't drink it like this. I slid my palms under my shoulders and pushed myself up, lifted my legs in one at a time and then rolled onto my back. I was exhausted from the effort, but I pushed myself into a sitting position and slowly drank. My energy started to come back as I finished the bottle. I reached out to the trunk door and pulled it shut, laid back still trembling with fear which was sapping away my remaining energy and after a few minutes I slowly drifted off to sleep.
It was midday before I woke again, I was still shaky but I was able to move around and walk. I Finished off another bottle of blood and then headed to The Grille. I needed a drink to calm my jittery nerves. Thankfully there was no one at the bar. I ordered a double shot of whiskey, downed it and then ordered another. The previous night played over and over in my head, I thought that if I tried really hard to remember that I might see the signs that someone was planning to attack me, maybe a shadow or a piece of fabric. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't remember anything except that one rustle of leaves. The hand over my mouth had been large and rough, I felt stubble rubbing on the back of my neck when I was bitten. So I could narrow it down to a male, great, so helpful. I put my head down in my hands reconsidering my decision to come here in the first place. When I felt a hand on my shoulder I almost jumped out of my skin.
I spun around and came face to face with Damon and Alaric. My first reaction was to run, the human 'fight or flight' response, I guess that it carried over for me. Damon's eyes narrowed as he looked at me.
"You don't look very good," he told me as he took the stool next to me.
"Thanks," I said weakly as I finished off my drink. As the adrenaline rush from their sudden appearance wore off and the alcohol took hold I felt more relaxed. Alaric ordered a round for us and then looked over at me. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked me looking very concerned.
"Yes, I'm fine," I assured them. I took my shot and started to gather my things. I needed to move my truck because someone knew where I was and might come back again. I saw Damon looking at me out of the corner of my eye. I turned to say goodbye and felt my heart flutter just a bit as my arm brushed against his. This was bad; I couldn't have these kinds of feelings for him.
I walked out just before I felt the flush of my cheeks and I hoped that they hadn't noticed. I was relieved to know that it wasn't Damon who had bitten me last night because he didn't seemed shocked to see me alive at all. Now the problem was that I didn't know who it could have possibly been…