He sat up. “Stop singing.”
“We can stop?”
Grudgingly, he said, “Yes.”
“Thank you.”
He mumbled something under his breath about crazy women and then we were speeding down the road in silence. I think we were close to the city because I could see the lights on the horizon.
“Is my singing really that—”
“Yes.”
Didn’t have to tell me twice. I had discovered a new weapon. If anyone attacked me, I could stave the person off with badly sung limericks. Would that be my superhero power? I’d prefer mind control, but natural talent would have to prevail.
It only took a few minutes before we pulled up in front of my house. Gabriel parked the car on the far side of the street and started to get out.
“What are you doing?”
He turned around behind the wheel, leaving the door wide open. “I’m going in for you.” He held up his hand. “I don’t want to hear another tune.”
“I can do it myself. Thanks, though.”
“You’re not going. Stay in the car.”
There was that aggressive demeanor again. I didn’t think it was warranted for a few personal effects. He was starting to agitate me.
“Well then, I’ll tell you what I want. My shirts are in the top left dresser drawer. The handle’s loose, so don’t break it off with your freaky vamp strength. Take the top two T-shirts. Grab a sweater from the laundry basket. They’re clean. Grab some jeans from my closet floor. Oh, actually, they might be in the bottom dresser drawer. Look in the closet first. I’m a little pickier with my underwear. Look in the small dresser by my bed. Don’t take the thongs or granny panties... You’re not listening.”
“You will take what I bring out.”
“I might end up with the granny panties. They’ll pop out of the waist of my jeans. Do you want me to meet with the Members with my underwear rolled up over the waist of my pants? Really, because if that’s where you want to take it, I’ll go there.”
And there was that look he gave so well. I could have sang again, but I kind of feared he’d toss me out of the car and run me down for cruel and unusual punishment. I didn’t sing. But I did point out a fact. “I could have been in and back by now. Don’t turn this into something difficult. It’s not a Navy Seals mission.”
He sighed “Let me go in first.”
“Deal.”
Finally, we agreed on something! He turned the car off and we walked up to the front door. I was glad I had my keys. He walked in first, making me wait in the doorway so he could still keep a firm eye on me. The lights were left off. Only the streetlight shined through the door, illuminating a path through the darkness.
Once Gabriel cleared the kitchen and living room, I was allowed to come in, but the door had to stay open. He checked every room before I could even walk down the hallway.
I’d only been gone a few days, but it felt weird standing in my own living room. The natural smell, my smell, was more alien than home. The magazines spread across the coffee table that I’d been flipping through seemed so right before. Now they were messy and abandoned. The coat that always hung on the corner of the skinny sitting chair had turned into an odd choice for a coat rack. The overall eclectic decor was mutinous. They had never really matched, but they used to click. Nothing clicked as I stared through the street lamp’s wide, grubby rays spreading over what was supposed to be my space, my haven from everything.
I was a stranger in my own home.
That was the moment my life really felt invaded. Not much has the power to take every aspect of what’s yours and turn it against you. Everything has the power to change something, but very few things have the force to get into your head and change the way you perceive everything. It was like having a stranger in my head, using my eyes to see. I didn’t feel like me. I wasn’t Ell or Myranda, and this wasn’t my neighborhood or my house because a ghost couldn’t claim anything. I felt exactly like a ghost that had fled the cold dirt, only to run to the light and find...nothing.
When Gabriel was appeased, he came back to the living room and I went to pack. He stood in the front doorway to keep a look out for anything suspicious. I’d decided to be as quick as I could, though the importance of having my own clothes had suddenly become meaningless. But we were there, so I wasn’t going to leave without what I threw a tantrum to get.
I grabbed my small black travel bag, ran into the bathroom, and dumped all of my personal stuff into it first, like my toothbrush, toothpaste, and hairbrush. Then I swiftly hopped back into the bedroom and poured my wrinkled clothes in the bag. My bras and underwear went in last.
I couldn’t believe Gabriel had been so squeamish around women’s underwear. At an attempt to break my sullen mood, I razzed him from my room. “Hey Gabriel, sure you don’t want to frisk my underwear for bombs or tracking devices? I’d hate to hear an ‘I told you so!’”
He didn’t respond. Was he being stubborn? Was he even there? Had he walked back to the car?
“Gabriel?”
Okay, his paranoia had rubbed off on me. Along with the feeling that I was in a different universe, my hands broke into a light, nervous sweat. My heart sped up and I didn’t know if it was smart to yell again or jump out a window and stealthily roll into one of the bushes like a commando. On the other hand, if evil sons of bitches had gotten him, they were probably outside and would see me belly-flop into the thorny shrubs. Hell, they probably already heard me if anyone actually was out there.
Screw it. I had to check it out.
It was nerve-wracking to inch down the short but very dark hallway. A turtle passing would have looked like warp speed. No one could blame me for my stunted descent, though. Human nature is to be inquisitive, but learned behavior is to be cautious.
My body slowly, stubbornly hugged the wall as I slid around the corner to face the open door. Unplastered my arms from my sides, I focused on Gabriel’s form just outside the doorway. He turned to meet my frozen expression of horrible expectations. The street lamp shone at his back, so the front of his body was completely shadowed. Everything kind of took on a hazy bluish glow. It never made sense that a light is white or yellow, but nighttime morphs it into a completely different color.
Gabriel stepped inside to escape the direct blue halo and addressed me very seriously. “Are you ready? Where’s your bag?” He paused long enough to step forward a few more feet. Almost tenderly, he asked, “Are you okay?”
I hadn’t expected to feel such fear. It was hard walking down the hallway not knowing what to expect, but the fear had been so gripping that my body was tense, voice strained. “I was making sure you were still here.” My seriousness made Gabriel, in comparison, seem lazy.
“I was listening.”
“But you didn’t answer me.”
“I wasn’t listening to you. I was listening out there.” He nodded toward the yard.
“Did you hear something?”
“Maybe. I think it was the neighbors. Just in case, hurry up.”
No movement. I stood there, body rigid, staring at him, waiting for my muscles to uncoil from around my bones. He took a step closer and really looked at me. Had I ever been this frozen with fear? No, not fear. It was relief. My brain simply hadn’t passed on the good news to my body yet. Gabriel was there. He hadn’t disappeared or fled. There was nothing scary waiting to grab me.
But knowing most of my apprehension had been the thought that Gabriel could be hurt and that I cared enough to risk danger was a scary realization in its self. It wasn’t driven by lust or love though, whatever it was. He was a part of my team. He was my partner. And I was freaking him out.
“I’m sorry I didn’t answer you.” He leaned closer. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
I whispered, “It’s okay.”
“Retrieve your bag so we can go home.”
“Okay.” I turned and my feet followed.
Home? Where was home? I knew he meant the farmhouse. I g
uess he was right, at least for the moment.
The hallway was less threatening walking the other way. I took a few deep breaths, clenching and unclenching my hands to relax them.
Where was my forgotten necklace? I raced through my mental files. It was too important to leave in my humble jewelry box. Check. It was too small for large storage. Check. It would be painful to look at often in any of my usual hiding places. Check.
I dropped to the floor and ran my hand under the dresser until it came out gripping the same white, padded envelope my mother held years ago. After spilling the pendant into my palm, I closed my eyes and felt the weight of it. Putting it on again—the familiar snap of the clasp, the cool silver kissing my skin—brought back a piece of my parents I needed badly.
Now I was ready to leave.
The bag was still on the bed. It was promptly zipped and tossed over my right shoulder. For some reason, my left was achier than the right from the backyard brawl with Gabriel. Sleeping curled up in the car hadn’t helped, either.
I was looking forward to stretching out on the old foldout couch. It wasn’t much, but I couldn’t accuse it of being uncomfortable. If we got to the farmhouse soon enough, I could pass out and Gabriel would still have time to eat before the sun came up.
Walking down the hallway again was a hell of a lot less threatening than the first time. I had a plan. Granted, it was only a short-term plan. Hey, it was better than nothing. My entire body hurt, and I wanted to return to the universe that I knew.
I turned the corner and locked the door on the way out. I realized by the hum of the motor that Gabriel had already started the car. Couldn’t he have waited one minute while I locked up the house so we could quickly flee together? Muttering under my breath, I began walking to the car.
The streetlight wasn’t on a timer, but it was known for shorts. It sputtered out a few broken rays, a repetitious evening ritual, and untimely shorted out. A quick glance before the light died told me the car was lacking my chauffeur.
Chapter Twenty-One
It was time to panic. I was left alone with my little duffle bag waiting for my eyes to focus in the darkness. If only the bag was big enough to climb into. No, what I really wanted to do was run to the car, jump in, and lock the doors. However, what I wanted to do and what I did were two different things.
I made it to the mailbox before noticing the flattened flowerbed. The colorful flowers were mangled, smeared out of the little wooden bed rim. It wasn’t like that when we arrived. I’d been careless not to notice on my way to the car.
Carefully, I started down the walkway to my house. It was hard to suppress the impulse to run. My hands did crack the nonchalant look I was going for when I fumbled the keys out of my pocket and dropped them. They hit the pavement with a loud thud that seemed to echo through the entire city. That was all it took to set the track star inside of me free.
I bent over and grabbed the keys as my feet took off as fast as they could go. The key slid right into the lock and I got the door open in record speed. I slammed it shut and locked it back, along with the dead bolt and chain. With my back against the door, I let myself slide to the floor. Gabriel was gone and I was trapped in my house by something I hadn’t seen yet.
I sat frozen, waiting. For what, I didn’t know. Daylight. Life. Voices. Pleasure. Laughter. Crying. Pain. Death. Was this how people felt when they sat in that chair in front of me? Were these the scattered emotions that animated them in my presence? Was that my only mark on the world?
A small noise started at the living room window. It was a scraping sound like fingernails being run across something slick. It screeched. My breath stopped. It was coming closer. Slowly it traveled across the house siding, getting closer. As I fought to breathe past the terror, the noise made it to the door I was glued to. What was it?
The sound of something sharp promising danger.
A subtle vibration ran over my skin as it zigzagged back and forth on the door and stopped where my back rested, where my heart was. Then, nothing. I listened so hard I couldn’t move a centimeter. I tried to breathe only when it was necessary, and then in shallow breaths. Enough to keep from passing out but not enough to be heard. All of a sudden, a light tapping began, still aimed at my back. It grew louder as the tapping became harder and harder. I only moved when I expected it to break through the door and pierce my heart.
What was out there?
I hunched over, knees bent, leaving the bag in front of the door, and moved toward the hallway. Before I’d cleared the turn, a shadow in the kitchen caught my eye.
“Gabriel?”
Not Gabriel. It was too tall. Only a vampire could move so quietly, but it wasn’t the vamp I was hoping for. Had Gabriel set me up? After everything, I couldn’t believe he would do that. No. I had to believe in something, and I chose to believe that he cared too much to do that to me. I needed that thought to not feel so alone. The man in my kitchen was sent by someone else. I would have bet my life. In fact, I think I was.
I decided to try and make it to my bedroom, but the hall gave way to another silent, hulking shadow man. And to my horror, I remembered leaving the keys in the outside lock when I heard the doorknob turn. As I recalled the second and third security measure, the deadbolt and chain, the wood of the doorframe crackled. A second later, my high-tech security system was reduced to swinging haggardly in the breeze of the broken door. What was behind door number one? A third shadow man with a very sharp hunting knife: the origin of that horrid sound that would forever haunt my waking hours as well as my dreams.
I was successfully trapped.
The man in the hallway addressed me. He spoke with a deep, inhuman roll of the throat. “Did you think you would get away from us a second time, Cypher? There are no humans with us tonight.” His chuckle recalled all that I’d feared as a child.
People sometimes thought I brought death. The Mass always brought death. Humans scared their children into submission with tales of bogymen. Vampires scared their own kind with the Mass. Only, their threats were all too real.
I faced the man, limp and sorrowful. “Did the Members send you?”
There was a long pause before he responded, but I already knew the answer. “Not this time.”
“My sister sent you.”
It was odd. His eyes were piercingly blue, so familiar, but not on that face. I felt a sense of deja vu but knew it was totally amiss. Something about him was wrong.
“The Members have judged you.”
“I thought they were gonna wait until tomorrow to decide.”
“The decision was unanimous. A messenger is waiting at your bodyguard’s home. Unfortunately for you, we knew where to find you.”
I thought I would yell and fight when death faced me, but I wasn’t doing either one. My voice was low and methodical, but not a whisper. Just sharing sad truths with strangers. “They voted against Ellenore.” He shook his head. “I don’t suppose you’re here to give me a trophy or a soul?”
“No.”
“She always was a poor loser.”
When they began to close in, there was some yelling and fighting in me after all. I ran for the man in the hall and jumped on him. The other two pulled me off, but not before I swung and randomly hit them a few times. The one who’d been by the door pulled me back and lifted the knife. I stopped moving when the cold blade pushed against my neck. His eyes glowed blue, too.
The one I attacked stood up. I could see his smile in the pale indigo halo of the street lamp that miraculously come back on the one time I didn’t want to see what was in front of me. I swear they must have had a hidden switch for it somewhere. In the light, they just looked like a bunch of oversized thugs. Well, thugs with tattoos. And fangs. Couldn’t forget the fangs.
Mr. Hallway, Mr. Kitchen, and Mr. Door were watching me. So far, Mr. Hallway was the only one who’d ventured to speak. And overwhelmingly, I’d begun to feel trapped in a bad game of Clue. Before I could explore that thought further, Mr.
Hallway stepped closer. He was at least six and a half feet, with a statuesque build and dark hair so short it left his scalp exposed. There was a tattoo on his neck, but it looked more like a brandish. The ink was a light tan, only two or three shades darker than his bleached skin. The tattoo looked to be two thick semi-circles interlocked. There was something in the middle where they met, but I couldn’t tell what. Possibly writing of some sort. I looked at Mr. Kitchen, who was the leanest of them all. He had the same tattoo in a shade of brown, two shades darker than his skin, but it was on his forearm. It was safe to bet the third vamp had a matching tattoo.
The large vamp spoke. “We were hoping you would fight.”
“Why? Gonna give me a cool tattoo like yours?”
“This is the mark of the Mass. You would not be worthy to wear such an honor.”
I motioned toward the tattoos. “If those are the riches, I’m honored to be poor.”
Without so much as a memo, he backhanded my right cheek. His hand was so large he hit the whole right side of my face. The jolt made the blade of the knife graze my neck a little too close for comfort.
“Take her to the car.”
Say what you wanted, but the quiet monster was no slacker. Clamping down on my arm, he yanked me out the door. On our way to the car I took a second to scan for Gabriel. It was as if my lawn had sprouted ninjas. My eyes bugged out when I saw men fighting to my left and right, rolling on the ground, tossing one another like beach balls.
The Mass were unmistakable, wearing complete black like the secret service. But there were others, vampires I didn’t recognize. A swift count reached eleven. The brawlers would never fit in with the lawn gnomes everyone else had. I was going to have to do something drastic, like put up colored lights at Christmas instead of white, to get the neighborhood committee off my back for this.
Still being tugged through the anarchy, I caught a glimpse of a dark mound on the fringe of the fighting. After a second it moved, pulling a nearby member of the Mass to the ground. As they rolled, I realized the mound was Gabriel.
Souled Out Page 13