Sam woke to the sound of her parents arguing. To an outsider, their arguments tended to sound rather one-sided. Dave would rail against whatever incident had bothered him—usually something to do with Sam—and Miranda would try to calm him down.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Dave,” Miranda said, breaking away from their normal script.
Sam held her breath, afraid they would realize she was awake and listening. They weren’t shouting, but then again they didn’t need to shout to be heard throughout the tiny apartment.
“Did you put her off?” demanded Dave.
“I did what I could. I told her that I didn’t think it ever existed. She seemed to accept that.”
“I hope so. Damn that girl,” grumbled the father, his voice fading as he moved toward the exit.
Sam wasn’t positive that they had been talking about her, but her father’s tone was the same one he used any time she came up. Was her mother referencing their discussion about the mommy tunnel?
Sam was ready to blast Becky to the human’s hell if this whole situation got her in more trouble with her father.
Gingerly, Sam climbed out of her bed. To her astonishment, her hand didn’t hurt. She looked down at the pale flesh, surprised to find the skin completely healed. There wasn’t even any scaring on the once-burned palm. As she thought back to her last twenty-four hours, she remembered the extreme amount of power she had drained from Heywood. Similar to werewolves, vampires healed quickly.
And Sam, juiced on Heywood’s power, had done the same.
Despite the power of the vampire, she felt drained, almost as though she was hung-over. Sam had never been drunk—alcohol wasn’t technically allowed within the Res—but she assumed it felt something like this. Though Heywood’s power had initially healed her wounds, he had then drunk from her to regain his own strength. In the end, Sam couldn’t decide whether the exchange had been worth it. Her hand had hurt worse than anything she had felt—until this headache.
Sam stumbled her way into some clothing—a pair of blue jeans that had seen better days, her usual boots, and a too-big plaid flannel shirt over a white t-shirt. She had seen magazines from the human world that showed women striving for the same look. Sam didn’t work to look like this. Her jeans naturally had holes in them from too many washes and her shirt was too big because that was what had been donated to the Reservation bins last Christmas.
Sam didn’t even bother looking in her little mirror to see what her hair was doing. Chances were she was going to die today. There didn’t seem much use for cosmetics.
“Sam, when did you come in last night?” asked her mother as she exited her bedroom.
“Late. Sorry, Mom,” Sam mumbled.
They had never suffered a traditional mother-daughter relationship. Her father wanted Sam out of the house too much to have things like set curfews or daily chores. If Sam had ever been honest with herself, she would have gladly traded a few time-outs for a father who could stand her presence.
Sam pushed those thoughts out of her mind before they could show on her face.
“No worries,” said her mother as she put a bowl of cereal on the table for Sam; her voice shook, as though she was still nervous after the fight.
As much as Sam wanted to ask about what she had heard, she refused to put her mother in a difficult position. Assuming the fight had been about Sam and her questions, she would do everything she could to keep her mother from a similar argument, even if that meant her own questions remained unanswered. Whatever the story behind her existence, it wasn’t worth angering her father over, or at least that’s what she repeated to herself.
Sam ate slowly, her body still aching from the mayhem of the night before. Though she didn’t have to work today, she had to arrange things to keep her family from suspecting her planned activities, and, more importantly, so that her family and friends wouldn’t suffer if she were caught by the FMB.
Finally, Sam finished her breakfast and washed out her bowl.
“I was thinking of staying at Amber’s tonight,” she said, almost forming her statement into a request.
Her mother smiled at her, though the expression never reached her eyes. “I think that’s a good idea.”
Sam had been staying at Amber’s house on a regular basis ever since she could remember. As a child, her mother would arrange the dates whenever her father was in a particularly foul mood. Now, Sam arranged her own play dates.
She went back into her room, grabbed a few handfuls of clothing and stuffed them into her bag before slinging it over her shoulder. Sam emerged from her room and kissed her mother on the cheek one last time. She had no idea what sort of punishment she would incur if the FMB caught her attacking a mage, but she had a pretty good idea what would happen if she accidentally killed one.
Sam grabbed her leather jacket off the peg on the wall before slipping through the door. Children were already at play in the bare courtyard. A small group was laughing as they stacked discarded bricks to make a little fort in one corner. Sam recognized the partial bricks as those falling from a nearby deserted building.
Sam stopped to watch them as morbid thoughts crept into her mind. She couldn’t fathom why anyone would try to escape just to create a child and return. The children of the mystics were trapped animals, barely surviving on the giftings from the government and those few organizations that collected donations for the Reservations. This life wasn’t worth passing on to another generation.
Eventually, the children took notice of her scrutiny. They stopped in their play, staring at her with wide, frightened eyes. Sam tried to smile at them as she turned and scurried out of the courtyard. They wouldn’t relax and go back to their game until she was long gone.
Suddenly Sam didn’t feel so bad working for the vampires. They, at least, didn’t care that she was a Void. In fact, they found her powers useful, rather than a blight on their good name. Despite her best efforts, Sam felt tears press against her eyes. She scurried past the two women who were already out working on their gardens, her head down to hide the liquid quickly making tracks down her cheeks.
Once on the ground, Sam hurried to the same abandoned building—once used as the school before the population increase—where the children had extracted the bricks. She crawled behind it and huddled on the ground, pulling her legs up against her chest and wrapping her arms around her knees.
It wasn’t often she gave into her more disturbing thoughts, but when she did Sam often hide behind the old school building. Based on the garbage littering the narrow sliver between the back wall and the chain-link fence used to keep the inhabitants away from the Res’ stone wall, other people had used this as a hideout too.
After a good cry—both for herself and her mother—Sam crawled back out of her hiding spot, only half aware of the wall guard watching her. The human guards were concerned with any inhabitant who got that close to the fence. Thankfully, they didn’t shoot on sight. Sam stood up, wiped her eyes, and waved at the guard before turning away. She felt more than saw the guard lower his gun and move on in his patrol.
Sam made her way to Amber’s apartment and knocked on the door. Amber opened it, quickly taking in Sam’s bag.
“Sleepover?” she asked unnecessarily.
Sam forced a smile to her lips. She didn’t want her friend actually knowing what was going on. From her position in the hallway, she could see Amber’s mother frantically getting her youngest child, Ben, ready for school.
“Yep,” Sam said, forcing herself to wait to explain until they were alone.
Amber turned and led Sam back to her room.
As children, sleepovers had been simple. They both easily fit in Amber’s twin-sized bed. As adults, it got a little more complication. The fae didn’t like to touch much, unlike the werewolves, and so Amber and Sam had come to the arrangement of sleeping head to foot.
Amber shut the door while Sam dropped her bag on the desk chair.
“Okay, what’s re
ally going on?” Amber asked in a whisper.
Sam hesitated a moment, listening to the angry cries of Ben, who evidently didn’t want to go to school today. The lad’s wails would drown out anything they whispered.
“I have to do something tonight. I need you to cover for me.”
“What?”
Sam began to chew on her lips as she thought through, one last time, the ramifications of telling Amber everything that had happened since Lee first contacted her. The fact was, despite her love for Carl, Amber would never willingly help the vampires. Sam, though, would kill for her two friends. They had saved her in more ways than she could count.
“Just something I have to do, that’s all.”
“Something that’s gonna get you in trouble.”
“Why do you say that?”
Amber sighed. “If you need an alibi, then you shouldn’t be doing it.”
Sam ground her teeth together. She hated the fact Amber was right.
“All the same,” she finally said. “I have to do it.”
“This has to do with Lee, doesn’t it?”
Sam froze. How had Amber figured it out? She had never spoken to Lee in front of Amber. In fact, the only person who had seen them together was her father, and he wouldn’t mention it to anyone for fear that it would start people talking about his family.
“Why do you say that?” Sam asked, hedging away from an actual reply to the question.
“You think Lee killed Becky.”
Sam struggled not to let out a gusty sigh of relief. In all her stress about the vampires, Sam had completely forgotten that Becky’s murderer would likely go free, or that she was about to work with him directly; the fact was that their anger toward Lee was the perfect cover.
Slowly, Sam let out a controlled sigh, only half faked. “Lee needs to be dealt with. If someone doesn’t do something about him, he’ll just kill again.”
Amber stared at her for a moment, her eyes narrowing. “I’m wrong. There’s something else.”
Sam’s jaw nearly hit the floor. How had Amber seen past her pretenses?
It didn’t take long for Sam to realize her emotions were giving her away, and her empathic friend was reading them like a recipe.
“What’s really going on? I don’t feel any hatred or anger in you. Just resignation. Like…like you think you’re going to die tonight.”
Sam swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. Her friend continued to stare at her, but she didn’t see any judgment or anger in the expression. Amber’s face was a mask of concern. Sam closed her eyes against her friend’s sympathy. If she continued to see Amber’s expression, she would break down in tears and tell her everything.
Before Sam could prepare herself, building her defenses against her friend’s expression, Amber grabbed her shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. Sam opened her eyes as her world wobbled. If anything, Amber’s expression had grown more concerned as tears began to fill her eyes.
“What is going on?” Amber asked, saying each word slowly as though Sam might be in shock.
Sam felt her bottom lip begin to quiver. She bit down on it, determined to fight against the growing emotions. Though Amber insisted she could only feel others emotions, Sam sometimes wondered if her friend could manipulate them too. Before she could get herself under control, Sam felt moisture begin to roll down her cheeks. As they reached her jawline, she knew the game was up.
“Lee approached me the same day you told me Becky was missing, asking me to do a favor for the vampires.”
“And you’re gonna do it?” Amber asked.
“He’s threatening to tell the feds about Carl and his tech.”
Amber’s moist eyes widened as her hands slid from Sam’s shoulders. She began to pace in the small room. Sam sat down on the bed to give her more space. Pacing was Amber’s go-to habit when she needed to think.
At last, Amber stopped and stared at Sam. “Do you think you can do this favor without getting caught?”
Sam stared up at her friend. She had assumed Amber would disagree with her plan outright. “I—uh—I’m not sure. It kinda depends on how well they’ve planned their part in it.”
“Don’t tell me,” Amber said as she held up her hand. “The less I know the better.”
“You mean you’re okay with me working with the vam… I mean, doing this?”
“For Carl? Yes. If he got caught… what would happen to his mother? I’ve always told him he was a fool for keeping the computers, but he never listens.”
“We can’t tell him about this. He would never let me… do something foolish for him. We cannot tell him,” Sam repeated for good measure.
Amber nodded. “We can’t tell him. I’ll pretend you’re here tonight.”
They paused as the door banged shut, signaling Amber’s mother’s departure with the screaming Ben; they were alone. They both let out a collective sigh, Amber settling on the mattress with her friend.
“When do you need to leave?”
“’Bout ten p.m.”
“Parents will be in bed by then. The trick will be sneaking out without them hearing.”
“I’ll go out the window,” Sam said, sounding sad even to her own ears.
Without realizing it, Sam had been hoping that Amber would talk her out of her plan, but now there was nothing but a long, boring day between her and tonight’s activities. In all her dreams about the future, Sam had never expected herself to willingly work with the vampires of the Res.
“Can you make it down?”
Sam nodded. Truth was she had climbed out of her second story apartment window many times before. Amber’s third story window couldn’t be that much harder. The enormous holes in the exterior walls of the old parking garage had been bricked up into smaller windows. Between that and the decay of a building left to its own devices in the windy state of Illinois Sam had ample handholds.
“Guess that solves that. What do we do now?”
“Wait,” sighed Sam. “If you want to go out today, don’t let me stop you.”
“We could go see Carl.”
Sam shook her head. “I know it shouldn’t matter, but I can’t see Carl right now.”
Amber grabbed Sam’s leg, squeezing her knee in sympathy. “It’s okay. I get it. I’ll stay in with you and we can gossip.”
Sam tried to smile but failed. In any other situation, the contrast between Amber’s words and her voice would have made Sam laugh. Amber had sounded positively heartbroken as she suggested they gossip. Sam pushed herself back onto the bed and settled down for a long day of waiting.
Slowly, they found other people to talk about. It was better than thinking of the night and what it would bring.
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