by K. E. Radke
The best evidence I have is he never denied being a vampire. I researched supernatural creatures last night and put it on my list because the creature in the alley had a giant stick poking out of her chest.
If he is a vampire, and he wants to kill me, why didn’t he do it the day he found me passed out on the beach?
I wince at the memory. There are so many questions from that night I’ll never have answers to.
Does that prove he intended to meet me at the coffee shop? It explains why he waited until I left to call me. How would he explain his dilemma? It’s not like he can offer to meet me somewhere else—if sunlight is a danger to him.
The threat. He didn’t threaten me until I led him into the light.
Does he think…I tried to kill him?
I can’t deny that something fried his hand. It was perfectly fine when I grabbed it. His cold fingers wrapped in mine. And he followed…I didn’t force him to come with me. Why would he willingly walk into sunlight if it can kill him?
My head hurts from all the jumbled thoughts as I try to piece my mind back together. I want everything to go back to normal. I want my simple life back. The one where I go to school and work. A life where boys are too scared to talk to me, and I never noticed because there’s not enough time in the day.
Boys do make everything worse. I thought my parents made that up.
Maybe I should stop searching for answers.
If anything, I’m owed some kind of explanation about the creature in the alley. They didn’t kill or trap it. Rowan admitted it got away. And to be honest, weird things didn’t start happening until after I met him and his brother.
The more I think about it the angrier I get for being ignored and treated like a child. A secret everyone else knows except for me. And I was there! Instead of refusing to tell me what happened, Rowan pretended it never did.
And somehow, that’s worse.
He doesn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth.
But I never asked either.
That night I let him fill in the awkward silence with casual conversation. It’s possible he was being polite. Maybe he thought I didn’t want to talk about him fighting some pale creature to the death between two buildings.
The phone sits on the front seat like a beacon for the answers I need.
For the first time, my hands are steady as I scroll for his name. I can’t find him until I remember I didn’t put him under his name. In my phone, he’s under stranger things guy.
It rings a few times and goes straight to voicemail. Don’t panic. After the beep, I hang up before it can record my breathing. I thought I was ready to leave a voicemail, but I don’t want to say the wrong thing. Breathing would definitely be the wrong thing.
I probably should have texted him. No one calls people anymore. The mistake makes me fling the phone back in the front seat. Now he definitely won’t contact me again. I just gave him a sure sign of what I wanted to talk about.
He doesn’t want to stick around in the future anyway. Those exact words came out of his mouth. It’s better to have a clean break than a broken heart.
Between the caffeine and the adrenaline rush from Gabriel’s death threat, I can’t sit still. So, I repeat Rowan’s lies to myself, determined to believe them.
***
I don’t know why it never occurred to me to call before I came. On my days off, I avoid the Boulevard, but I only have one friend I talk to regularly and she basically lives here. Not that Maggie was available. She had enough tables to send me away so I wouldn’t ruin her lucky streak.
The unmistakable empty slurping sound comes from my cup. Nothing’s left. This much caffeine in one day can’t be good for me.
I’m scrolling through vampire lore when Rowan texts me.
Rowan: I saw you called but didnt leave a voicemail. Not an emergency, right?
Amelia: Physically no. Mentally yes.
Rowan: A mental emergency?
Amelia: This would be a lot easier to explain over the phone. If you remember how to use that part of the thing in your hand.
My phone lights up with a phone call and I immediately answer it.
“Amelia, was that sarcasm you texted me?” Rowan asks in a flirty tone. His voice is happy and full of warm gushiness that makes my heart flutter.
“I thought I’d show you how to use an old artifact back in the stone age. You know these things used to be connected to cords.” I feign shock and listen to him chuckle.
“Do you need my expert escorting skills? I am at your service.” He is so adorable.
“Actually, I want to talk about last night.” The words come out too fast like I’m trying to trick him into giving me information.
It’s very quiet on the line. So quiet, I’m not sure he’s still there. “Hello?”
“Yea, I-uh, I’m still here.” All the warmth in his voice is gone, and he sounds like he’s ready to get off the phone.
“Whatever it was you were fighting escaped,” I say quickly to convince him he needs to tell me everything. “And they had a giant wooden stick in their chest.” The last part is so low I’m not sure he hears me. “It seems like a good time to know what could possibly survive that kind of damage to its chest.”
He’s silent for so long, I almost ask if he’s still there.
“I wish I could have stopped you from seeing that,” he answers sadly.
“Trust me, there’s a whole new meaning to I can’t unsee that.”
“I promise you are safe. Even if you have to walk alone,” he guarantees.
“Even I know better than to make promises like that.”
“The General is keeping an eye on you. And he’s the best bodyguard you could have.”
“I know you mean well, but the General is creepy.”
“You won’t even know he’s there.”
“That’s not helping.”
“If you want me to tell him to stop, I will. But I want you to feel better about walking at night. Even when you’re alone.” There’s concern in his voice, but he’s making it very clear he can’t escort me to my car forever.
“Can it be killed? If I see another one?” I question.
“Everything can be killed,” he states nonchalantly.
“Was it a vampire?” I whisper.
“This is a really bad time. Can I call you back? I’m out of town right now, but I’ll let you know when I’m back,” he says rapidly in a nice way. If that’s not a dismissal to our nonexistent relationship, I don’t know what is.
The second we’re off the phone, he’s going to avoid me like the twins dodge clean up time. Fury shoots right out of my mouth. “At least give me a yes or no. Give me something so I know I’m not crazy.”
“You will be a great meteorologist one day. Focus on the future. And hopefully, when you look back at your past, this will be one hurdle you had to jump over to get to where you are,” his voice rumbles sincerely. “I have to go.”
He hangs up on me. One simple word might have solved all my problems. And he couldn’t give me an answer. One word. Maybe my brain will accept everything I witnessed if someone else in the world thinks vampires are real too.
My insides are twisted in knots and every time I inhale, they tightened. I am all alone. I feel like we broke up and he said it’s not you, it’s me. How did I get so twisted around a boy I’m not dating?
No one notices the sad girl sitting alone, clinging to her coffee mug like her life depends on it. All the pent-up anxiety makes my entire body shake. I put down the mug and splay my fingers against the cold table.
Who do I call now?
I find the will to get up and leave before I end up on the floor, demanding the staff to spray whipped cream in my mouth. The only thing I want to do is listen to love songs and burn pictures of us together. Not that the latter is possible.
At the exit, I have to fight my way through a crowd of people to leave. I’ve become the chump holding the door open for the next sixty people coming insi
de. None of them stop to take over. Half of them don’t even say thank you.
I rush over the threshold when there’s an opening and stare at my phone screen, looking for my life’s not fair playlist.
“Why so glum chum?” the girl sings to me with a smile. She has blond dreadlocks and smells like she climbed out of a garbage can. I have to keep my hands busy to stop myself from holding my nose.
“I’m a local.” I give her a quick lift of my mouth to be polite, so she doesn’t have to waste her sales pitch on me.
There’s a stack of papers in her hands and she gives me one. I take it to be affable, ready to throw it away as soon as she moves further down the sidewalk, but she sidles up next to me instead of hassling her next target.
“Aren’t you going to read it?” she inquires innocently.
I want to crumble it up and throw it at her face. It’s too hot for this game, and I bet it’s a stupid coupon.
A flyer for a party is the last thing I expect. “Are you with a sorority?”
Her russet eyes widen with pride when I ask her a question. “When I’m with my sisters, I feel like I can do anything. I thought you could use some sisters. Because you look so sad.”
There’s nothing worse than being mean to someone when all they want to do is help. “I don’t even have a right to be sad. But thank you for this.” I hold up the flyer, ready to end the conversation. At home, I can roll myself up in the sheets like a burrito and never come out.
The one person I came to talk to is working and I have to wait for my turn.
Dreadlocks doesn’t take the hint and continues to walk with me. “You don’t have to be alone,” she says gently.
There’s so much concern on her face, I come to a complete stop and stare at her. People give us dirty looks as they pass us because we’re in the middle of the sidewalk.
“I know what it’s like not to have anyone. My sisters are everything to me. You can be part of that too, if you want,” she continues sincerely.
“I’m not really in the mood for a party, but thanks.”
“You can drive your own car and leave whenever you want. There’s no pressure to stay. Everyone’s really welcoming, and the food is free.” She refuses to give up and plants her big wishful eyes on me. Does she make a commission for every person she recruits?
“No thank you,” I say with finality.
“Do you at least have someone to talk to?” she asks desperately. “Someone to help you with whatever you’re going through right now? I’d feel better if you said yes.”
A stranger I just met wants to give me all the attention in the world, and I’m shutting her down because of a boy that was never really mine.
“What do you know about vampires?” I jokingly ask in a bitter tone on the verge of releasing a humorless laugh.
Her eyes happily light up. “I hope they’re as dreamy in real life as they are in the books.”
Maybe I should go to this party. I can’t help the shocked expression on my face. “You believe they’re real?”
She shrugs. “Anything is possible.”
And just like that, I don’t feel crazy anymore. Hypothetically, anything I tell her would be true, if I stick to what I saw last night. People took videos of something running along the rooftops. She might have seen it too. I glance at the flyer again. The address isn’t in the best area, and it’s about a twenty-minute drive. “Where is your party?”
“The only place available was a building for a non-denominational church.” She wrinkles her nose at the word church. “Last minute planning.”
“Not at your sorority house?” I predicted a long drive toward the university.
“Oh no, it’ll be way too big to host at a house.”
“When does it start?”
She beams at me and says in an eager voice, “You can go now! They’d love to have you.”
“By myself?” I say uneasily.
She claps her hands excitedly. “We can go together! Let me find one of my sisters so I can give them my flyers.” She gazes up and down the Boulevard. “I’ll introduce you to everyone! You’ll fit right in. Wait until you meet Leonard. He’s the only reason everyone comes to our parties.”
Chapter 16
Gage
T he Bronco rumbles down the two-lane road, warping through the countryside while I drown in Rowan’s emotional pool of feelings for Amelia. It’s the last place I want to be. But I’m stuck with him until we get to the Ochoa’s house in Moore Haven, Florida. All of his misery curls around me like a hungry snake. I grip the steering wheel and press on the gas pedal.
It’s my fault.
Maybe I deserve to be stuck in an enclosed space with him. He didn’t want to call her. But his heart hammered against his chest at the sight of her name. I finally convinced him to text her by playing the emergency card.
Not that he can help her, we’re too far. But I can send the General.
We made a pact to keep people oblivious to the supernatural world. Living in a psych hospital made the decision for us. Seeing the aftereffects of people accepting the truth about the myths and legends and hell firsthand can shred a person’s mind.
“She’s already asking. Maybe you can break the rules for this one,” I suggest after ten minutes of complete silence. Shifting my eyes from the country road to him and back.
“I think I’ve taken enough advice from you today,” Rowan mutters dejectedly, rubbing his hand over the stubble on his face.
He doesn’t say another word because he knows I eavesdropped on their conversation. It was hard not to. I’m prone to listen in on conversations with my demon abilities.
“It’d be nice to have a meteorologist around. What do they do exactly?” He doesn’t reply, so I try again. “She’s smart. How many people figure it out on their own?”
Amelia sounds sane. Her humor is still intact. A good sign if she did see Rowan stab a vampire in the chest and watched the bloodsucker walk away.
He glowers at me. “And if she would have died?”
Rowan is stuck in a twisted make-believe scenario where Amelia ends up with a gravestone marker on top of her. And he’s clutching to the guilt like it’s oxygen.
Regret is ripping holes through the little happiness inside of him, and I clench my jaw. It’s my fault. I deserve to suffocate in his sorrow for encouraging the idea of a relationship. And I’ll do it again. He’s earned a life with someone other than a demon for a brother to keep him company.
One of these days I’ll get it right. Pheromones don’t lie.
I can sense the attraction between two people by a casual glance. A curse bestowed by my demon father.
“Does that mean she won’t be going to the next Con with you?” I ask, changing the subject with a sigh. “And another one bites the dust.”
A tiny smile creeps over his face at my distasteful tone. “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”
“Princess Leia, here I come,” I say with less enthusiasm.
“If you’re coming, you need to learn their names.”
“I know their names.”
“Does Princess Leia still have red hair?”
The corner of my mouth tips up seductively and my eyebrows rise a bit at the image I’ve summoned of Poison Ivy. “Yes, she does.”
The first time he mentioned going to a Con, I truly loathed the idea. But I did it for him. And honestly, I thought, it can’t be all bad. It’ll be a blast from the past. A nostalgic way to revisit the best parts of my childhood.
He shoves his phone at me. “This is Princess Leia.”
I know who Princess Leia is. My baby brother is a stickler for details. “Not my Princess Leia.” I scoff.
“There aren’t two Princess Leias. There is only one.”
“For you maybe,” I say under my breath.
He lightly punches me in the side. “Only one Princess Leia.”
Dramatically swerving the Bronco into the next lane like he caught me off guard, I pretend to be flustere
d. “Whoa, no punching the driver.” And I punch him back.
“In two miles take the next right,” the GPS announces.
Glowing like a lantern against the dusk, a little yellow farmhouse appears between the tall trees in the vast green pastures. There’s a gate with Ochoa spelled out at the top, and it opens automatically. Fences cut across the property to keep the cattle safe when they aren’t locked in the bright blue barn behind the house.
Miguel and Valentina Ochoa are an old family friend. The bond between my mother and them connects on a deeper level than family blood ties. They’re both retired hunters who wanted a family—a life without constantly putting their lives at risk with a little one at home. I never thought it’d be possible. But they make it work.
And I have to believe they’re happy. For Rowan’s sake.
Their oldest daughter, Selena, is Rowan’s age, and her brother is two years younger than him. I can’t remember how old their youngest is because they moved to the farm before he was born. Being the oldest should have put me on babysitting duty—except I’m half incubus.
Convincing hunters not to kill my pregnant mother was hard, but Valentina protected her, stood by her side with every decision she made. Valentina was tasked with killing me if I was born with horns and a tail.
A tidbit I picked up eavesdropping.
No one expected a normal birth.
Some old memories I’m fond of become sketchy when I look back on them as an adult. Countless tense moments, passive threats, and conversations I didn’t understand as a child have a new and completely different context now.
After I was born, my mom lied through her teeth about retaliation from my father if they laid so much as a finger on me. The threat kept most of them in check.
My old man didn’t know I existed.
The Ochoa’s family life is an alternate universe for me. A childhood untouched by the nightmarish creatures lurking in the dark. Although, technically, sometimes I hid in the shadows of their house when my mom visited.
To this day, their kids believe monsters and demons are dark fairytales for naughty children. Miguel and Valentina have no intention to tell them the truth. They made a vow never to hunt again because they didn’t want to risk the life of their unborn child nineteen years ago.