by K. E. Radke
Arizona keeps walking, not waiting for Jenissa to catch up, but we hear the amused noise she makes at my comment.
“Any chance you can bring that hunter to me? After you’re done with the girl?” Jenissa limps off in Arizona’s direction, not looking back. She already knows the answer to that question.
“Don’t use the hunter as an excuse to see me again. That’s beneath you,” I tease.
She stops and straightens her spine. Elegance flows from her, and she makes blood look like a fashion statement. Keeping her back to me, she says arrogantly, “If I thought you’d have a chance at killing them, I’d stay to help you. Your days are numbered just like mine. The only difference is you’re not on his hit list yet. But when you are, you’ll take my number one spot.”
“Then you should thank me for saving your life,” my voice has a sharper edge than I like, but I can’t deny she might be right.
“No. You should thank me for giving you a way to run without looking like a coward,” she says delicately with a smile in her tone.
“I will miss this,” I say lowly with a sigh.
“Not too much, I hope. I don’t want to see you for at least five years.” She limps after Arizona, taking her time. There aren’t any dark corners for the Boogeyman to ambush her.
I can feel the sunrise creeping up on me. Exchanging the Mercedes for the Porsche, I drive to A Cuppa Joe in Old Spanish Town. It’s closed and on a small lot with five other businesses. They all face each other, two on each side with the parking lot between them. The only place open is the twenty-four-hour laundry mat right across from the coffee shop.
One person is inside, but she’s sleeping on a bench, and there’s a shopping cart next to her, overflowing with her belongings. Washers and dryers line the walls, only broken up by two doors on the back wall. Four sets are back to back in the middle of the room with benches placed in the aisles for people to sit and wait for their clothes.
Two vending machines take up space to my right. They’re both convenient for the customers. One sells snacks and the other, laundry detergent.
The woman’s blond, tangled locks are caked with dirt and her natural scent is covered by a pungent aroma from not washing regularly. She sits up the moment I step inside, ready to flee like a wounded dog. Society has not been kind to her.
We stare at each other because she knows I’m not here to do laundry.
She probably comes here often for refuge because there’s surprise in her expression. The blanket over her is quickly folded. She stuffs it in the cart and peers around the bundle of objects stored in there so she can see where she’s going.
I stand in front of the exit, motionless. Fangs slip over my bottom lip.
I haven’t fed yet.
And I only have one option at the moment.
***
Across the street, I stare at Amelia from the twenty-four-hour laundry mat. She’s shifted positions at least ten times and checks her phone every couple of minutes. A server brings her coffee in a huge mug that can quench the thirst of three people.
There was a surge of people in the laundry mat this morning. All of them ignored me and went about their business. No one said a word when I was still around after they finished their loads of laundry. The last person left twenty minutes ago.
I’m as far back as I can get from the front windows. Sunlight is pouring through them and I can feel the sizzling heat as if I were standing under the blue sky.
Amelia doesn’t sit idly for long. Her laptop is out within ten minutes to keep her company while she waits. She works on it for an hour, completely engrossed with the screen until she checks the time and finally puts it away.
With nothing to keep her there, she slowly leaves. Outside the coffee shop, she lingers for a moment and then walks defeated to her car. Let her leave and be done with this stupid plan you concocted.
The problem is, I don’t care about the plan anymore. I don’t know what I care about. Or why I’m here, in a stupid laundry mat watching a stupid girl get into her car.
And even as I try to convince myself she’s a stupid girl, my hand slips into my pocket around the phone, and I press on her name.
For once I don’t care if she answers because I’ve already convinced myself she won’t. I’m prepared for it to go to voicemail and turn my back on her. This will give me the motivation to leave Miami. Maybe I’ll go to Europe and surprise Jenissa.
“You’re late,” she answers testily. All my previous plans are forgotten. I spin around to stare at her leaning against her car.
There’s a moment of silence because I had prepared for a recording.
“Hello?” Amelia frets over the line.
“What game are you playing?” I accuse in a dangerous tone. It’s her fault I’m here. Stuck in this hellhole. Even though deep down, I know she isn’t to blame. And she doesn’t know I saw her with Rowan. All of this could be a setup.
“Game? I’m not playing any games. You’re the one who stood me up,” she fires back. There’s genuine shock on her face at my tone.
“I never agreed to your little meeting,” I point out.
“So you saw the text messages and rudely never answered me.”
I want to lash out and accuse her of doing the same thing. “If you think I’m so rude, then why did you bother to ask me to coffee.”
She exhales shakily. “You saved my life. And then you disappeared.” She’s whispering like someone else is listening to our conversation. “Did you see what I saw? That thing would have killed me.” Her voice is fragile. Not broken, but grasping for an explanation.
I bristle defensively. “That thing has a name.”
The silence tells me I made a drastic mistake. I shared information she doesn’t know. They never told her. This isn’t a trap. She actually wants to see me.
Curiosity takes over. “What do you want?”
“To talk. I’m still here if you have time,” she answers right away on the verge of sounding desperate.
“I know you’re still here.” My tone is indifferent.
She scans the parking lot. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
All this time I’ve been building a false scenario in my head. Her working with them. If she told them someone saved her, they’d immediately know it wasn’t something human. But she didn’t tell them. And now she wants answers.
Answers the hunters don’t want to give her. So she’s come to me. The only other person who was there.
Hunters aren’t inclined to share details about the supernatural world. The ones that do are put in mental institutions or worse, they lose all credibility with friends and family. Forced to live a life in solitude.
Information is a powerful tool. And I can’t help the wily tone in my question. “How much do you want to know?”
No hesitation when she blurts out in a hushed voice, “Everything.”
We’re both silent for a full minute before I finally say, “I’m in the laundry mat. Across from you.”
Covering her eyes with her hand, she squints at me. “Let’s go to the coffee shop, you can keep an eye on your clothes from there.”
“I cannot leave the laundry mat,” I say defensively.
“Is it okay if I come inside? I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable while you’re folding your tighty-whities.”
There’s a smile in my voice. “Is that what you’re thinking about? My underwear?”
The blush is prominent. “You don’t sound too happy to hear from me.”
“Forgive me. I’ve had a long night of saving lives.”
She hangs up when she enters the building.
On top of a washing machine, I’m leaning against the far wall at an angle because it hurts to put pressure on my back. I patiently wait for her to join me. Sunlight glares behind her like a protective barrier against me.
She peers up with a smirk on her face. “Cozy?”
“I make do.”
“Were you in here the entire time? Wat
ching me wait for you across the parking lot?” she asks suspiciously.
I decide to tell her the truth. “Yes.”
Her arms cross over her chest. “Why?” The word is a mix of curiosity and irritation.
“I think the question is, do you really want to know why?”
“You don’t know me very well, but I’m a logical person. I’m not gullible, and almost everything can easily be explained.” She pauses. “Last night can’t be explained. Not in my head. And even if you don’t have all the answers. It’d be nice to have someone to talk to about it,” she admits.
“And if the answers aren’t what you expect?”
Our eyes lock. “I think I’ve already crossed that bridge and there’s no turning back.” She puts down her backpack and gestures toward the dryer beside me.
“It’s all yours.”
Her nerves are getting the best of her, and she asks a question completely off topic. “How often do you do your laundry here?”
“Never. Today was a special occasion.”
“You mean, so you could spy on me? And watch how I pathetically waited for you to show up even though you never answered my texts?”
“Precisely.”
Nudging my shoulder playfully with a grin on her face, she loudly says, “Ass hole!”
“Why did you wait so long?” I want her to admit she wanted to see me. That it wasn’t just to get answers no one else will give her. That if I call her again when she is with the hunter, she’ll pick up next time.
And because I want it to be true, the allure curls around her. I try to stifle the power. Something I rarely do. But I don’t want it to interfere with the truth.
She shrugs her shoulders. “I did some homework. I never thought you’d show up. But I thought maybe, so I came anyway. Now I can buy you that coffee I promised.” She hops off the dryer and her fingers brush against mine. “I promise the chairs over there are more comfortable.”
After she puts her backpack on, her fingers fold around mine. It startles me and I gaze at her hand. It’s warm. Her pulse quickens, and goosebumps appear along her arm, but her hand stays entwined with mine.
We make eye contact and she tugs me forward with a teasing smile and pink-tinged cheeks. Mesmerized, I’m off the washing machine, and she leads me to the door. The contrast of her dark skin against mine. She is beautiful.
Born sun-kissed.
So beloved by the sun, it blessed her with its rays before it could shine upon her.
Fascination lures me forward. The hollow of her neck is so enticing, but I can’t fathom sinking my teeth into her.
Sunlight wraps around my fingers in a vise, and a piercing howl erupts out of me. My pale skin smokes and blisters, and I rip my hand from hers. I’m against the machines on the back wall in a blink of an eye. Coddling my burned hand, I seethe through clenched teeth. “Who sent you?”
My mind is reeling over what I truly know about her. Signs of her being more than human. Did I miss them? The power to trick a vampire does not come easily to a mortal. Nothing dark lurks inside of her. I would have felt it.
Further into the sunlight, she keeps her distance, still facing me with a knowing expression. “Vampire.” It’s not a question, but her voice trembles on the word.
It’s not hard to put together after everything’s she witnessed.
“What are you?” I hiss vehemently, narrowing my eyes. “A creature of light?” Fear envelops me. The one creature that can bewitch me into the sunlight and I’m chasing after her.
“Vampire.” Tilting her head with curiosity, she steps toward me but hesitates to step out of the sunlight.
“We are done here,” I hiss maliciously. “Leave. Now.”
“So in the alley…” she trails off and pins her gaze on me for the answer.
My hand is throbbing, a pain I haven’t felt in decades, and all I can think about is being set-up. Is she a hunter? Recruited last night? If she wants me dead, now is a good time to strike. But she stands motionless.
Frustrated with her mind games, I encourage darkly, “The sun will eventually set. By all means, stay until it does.” Fangs protrude from my gums.
“I could have died last night. All you had to do was stay away. But you didn’t,” she admits and takes another step forward. Uncertainty rests in her eyes. The toe of her shoe hits the edge of the circle of light pouring through the windows.
And then she steps out of the sunlight.
Chapter 15
Amelia
“Y
ou couldn’t meet me. But you came anyway.” My voice is barely above a whisper. It almost sounds like a question. “You saved my life.”
We’re suddenly nose to nose and I jerk backward from his incredible speed. The sun’s rays wrap around me in a protective embrace.
He growls menacingly, “A mistake I will not make twice.”
My heart stutters and I hold my breath to make sure every part of me is safe inside the circle of sunlight. The austere threat gives me goosebumps and I have to get out of there.
My eyes flee to his burnt hand. “I’m sorry.” The shaky words are barely out of my mouth as I step back and fling myself out the door. I’m trembling when I glance at him one last time to make sure he’s not following before I get inside my car and speed away.
Vampires are real. The thought churns in my head and I almost hit the SUV in front of me I’m so distracted. Driving erratically for the last ten minutes to hide from something that is not supposed to exist makes me pull into the next parking lot.
My hands shake the moment they come off the steering wheel and I wrap my fingers around it again. Too tense to relax, I try to convince myself I imagined everything.
Shutting my eyes doesn’t help.
There was a distinct smell. Scorched wood. The image of his fingers burning like a lit match is engrained in my mind.
Maybe his hand was already burned. Maybe he has a weird skin condition. But the fangs…
The fangs descended over his bottom lip so rapidly, I thought it was a trick of the light. Maybe it’s a disease that causes him to foam at the corners of his mouth.
But I know it’s not because I watched them retract and reappear. Not a trick.
A real vampire. Right here in Florida.
I don’t know what comes out of my mouth, but it’s between a nervous laugh and a whimper. Nothing makes sense.
He saved my life.
Twice.
And then he threatened me.
Technically, I also almost killed him.
But I didn’t know. If I’d known…
Questions spin around in my head without answers. Questions without answers never sit well with me. I’m a science fanatic. There’s always a logical answer.
Except this time, the logical answer is a creature that doesn’t exist. And the only way for it to be logical is if I saw it with my own two eyes. Proof of existence. Nothing about him screams vampire. He looks like a regular, extremely hot male. And every time I’m around him, he smells like my house when my mom is making homemade tamales.
Vampires don’t save people. Humans are their food source. It’s the piece of the puzzle that doesn’t fit. He did threaten me. But do I really believe he’d harm me?
My forehead softly hits the steering wheel. I pride myself on being smart. Smarter than most people. But my brain can’t rationalize everything I saw. There’s only one answer that makes sense.
He’s some type of illusionist.
How did he get to the laundry mat? He’d have to get there before the sunrise and wait for hours. It’s a skin condition. Vampires aren’t real.
I slam my hands against the steering wheel and curse in Spanish.
His fingers burned right before my eyes. Cold fingers. In ninety-degree heat.
Even if I can explain the fangs and burned hand, I’m still stuck. He bolted across the room the second the sun hit his flesh like the thing in the alley. Accelerated movements that my eyes didn’t catch.
One second, I’m pulling him toward the door, and the next, he’s gone. Rage flashed across his face when I finally figured out he was against the back wall and didn’t completely disappear. Nothing in the world can move that fast.
I can’t even begin to explain that.
Maybe he’s a superhero. A cranky superhero that threatened to kill me at sunset.
But that would make him a supervillain.
I rest my elbows on the steering wheel and throw my head in my hands because I can’t make sense of it all. Every clue screams supernatural. But the logical part of me—the part that’s always right is screaming don’t be a fool.
It has to be some elaborate prank. I nod at myself in the rear-view mirror for coming up with a rational solution and then shake my head. Don’t be stupid. Who cares enough about you to set this up?
The people at work? Who literally work all the time? I talk to three people at school and I’ve never spoken to them outside of the classroom. That leaves my family. A mother too busy with twins, and a father who is a workaholic so he can provide for his family.
The twins must be secret geniuses.
Stop! Think rationally.
Make it into a science experiment. The first step is to make an observation, which I have plenty of. My question—for the second step—is Gabriel a vampire?
The third step is to form a hypothesis. A testable hypothesis, so I can prove the theory. Maybe I should buy some garlic and throw it at him. Or holy water. That’s supposed to work. Can I buy holy water? My Catholic church would have it, but I’ve never seen them sell holy water.
Maybe I can scoop some up…if mom finds out I plan to steal from the church, she’ll sacrifice me to the devil.
Then I’d probably get some answers.
Leaning back in my seat, I drum my fingers along the steering wheel. If I’d known I was meeting a vampire and I wanted to prove the theory, there’s no doubt in my mind that I would have tried to get him out in the sunlight. He did that voluntarily and then called me a creature of light.
His skin blistered. It looked like charred flesh laying on a barbeque pit, roasting under the midday sun. And if indirect sunlight caused that much damage, what happens under direct sunlight?