Under a Blood Moon

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Under a Blood Moon Page 19

by Zoë Fox


  She rolled her eyes again. “Stop twisting my words.”

  “Your words did not require twisting to be offensive.”

  “You know what I meant!”

  “No, I’m afraid I do not. ‘Bloodthirsty freak’ seems to imply that relying on still living beings for sustenance is, somehow, dare I say ‘freakish’.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Fine. Whatever. Be pissed at me. Act childish. I don’t even care!” She was so angry she was shaking.

  “You, madam, are the only one in the room acting juvenile, I assure you.”

  “I don’t need this right now. I really don’t. Just forget it” She yelled on her way toward the front door. “Forget I even came over. No, you know what; forget we ever met.” She slammed the door behind her as hard as she could.

  Once her feet hit the front porch she started running. She didn’t think about where she was headed. All she cared about was moving, getting away, as fast as she could, from everything. Nothing was going right.

  She barely paused when she reached the graveyard fence. Silently, she grabbed the metal bars and vaulted over. She landed in a crouched position on the ground before resuming her previous speed, running toward her father’s grave.

  The headstone in sight, she slowed to a jog. Her breath came out in shallow bursts, creating fog on the early November wind.

  Quite suddenly she realized she hadn’t been there since Lucas had removed his things from the mausoleum. Staring at her father’s name in the marble, she felt ashamed. What if he thought she’d forgotten about him?

  She squeezed her eyes, fighting back tears. None of this would be happening if he were still alive. Kirk wouldn’t be in their lives. But then again, neither would Toad. It seemed like to gain anything in life you had to lose something else. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair.

  She couldn’t fight the tears any longer. Curling up in front of the headstone, she cried, wrapping her arms around herself for comfort, only to realize they provided none.

  Chapter Forty

  The Vampire was furious. He could feel the heat under his skin, the rage, all of it begging to be released on her. He paced the room, pausing every now and then to take solace in the faces of his trophies. Their blank eyes staring from the mantel kept him from doing something he might regret, something that would draw attention to himself.

  He knew that was the most important thing, not drawing attention to what he was really doing. But how was that going to be possible if she kept testing his patience like this? There was only so much he could take, after all. Past a certain point, he would no longer be responsible for his actions.

  He sighed, stopping to run his fingers through the hair of his last victim. It was red, like hers. Absently, he wondered what she would look like in that moment, the instance before the flesh let go and her essence became his.

  Releasing the locks, he turned his back on them. He couldn’t cut her. Couldn’t drink her blood and entwine her around his soul. He just couldn’t. Not now at least.

  She’d already begun to draw attention to him. Were he to take her now, surely, someone would begin to suspect him. There was no way around it. He’d have to let her be.

  A shadow of a smile pulled at the edges of his mouth as an idea made its way through his angry brain. True, he couldn’t have her now, but he could teach her a lesson. Pay her back for the suspicions she’d given rise to.

  “What should I do?” He asked aloud as he paced. She was the most stubborn of them all, he thought, glancing up at his girls. She deserved some special attention, something to make the eventual possession mean even more. He wanted to deepen the bond he would have with her after the questions died down. The fury inside of him began to dissipate, metamorphosing into cold chills of excitement that tumbled down his spine.

  He hadn’t played with the rest of them, but maybe he should have. Maybe he should have drawn the experience out even longer with each one, if the pleasure he now experienced was any indicator.

  How could he send his message without giving himself away? Tell her what was coming without uttering a word? The smile grew, stretching across the bottom half of his face. He knew exactly what to do now. He didn’t know how she’d react.

  “Alex,” He spoke her name softly to the empty room, “I have something very special planned for you.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Alex put the menthol cigarette to her lips and inhaled deeply, as she leaned against the headstone. Her lungs, no longer accustomed to the occasional smoke, rejected it. She coughed, sending white clouds into the sky. Holding the thing away from her, she stared at it. How long has it been since she’d bothered lighting one? The night she’d crashed into the mausoleum, she realized.

  Sighing, she held the thing at her side. It had been four days since she’d slammed the door at Lucas’ place. Four days since she’d talked to him. After crying her eyes out, she’d wondered why he hadn’t come after her. For about a day, she contemplated going over there and trying to talk to him, but when night came, it hit her that she didn’t know what to say. And wasn’t he just as guilty as she was, she’d thought, and he’d yet to bother contacting her. She wasn’t about to knock on his door and confess to missing him, if he wasn’t going to at least do his part and be equally miserable.

  “What are you thinking?” Sean asked quietly. When she’d called him the day after she’d had her fight with Lucas, he’d been ecstatic. The idea of getting to spend time with his friend without something that craved his blood hanging over his shoulder sounded great. He hadn’t expected that she’d be so unhappy.

  “Nothing.” Alex lied, tossing the cigarette aside. She knew Sean wasn’t really interested in hearing her recount the argument again.

  “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” He was worried about her. Alex was his best friend, his only real friend, if he was honest with himself. He hated seeing her like this.

  “What would make you think that?” She didn’t look at him as she idly uprooted a handful of grass from beside her father’s grave.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that your eyes go from sad to looking like you want to rips someone’s head off and then back to sad again.” He pulled his knees up to his chest.

  “They do not,” she said with little conviction. He’d described her feelings pretty accurately. On one hand, she wanted to shove a pointed cylinder of wood through Lucas’ heart for telling Roderick what she thought, and, if she was honest, for not breaking their silence first. On the other, she knew she’d been angry about so many other things when she’d walked in the door that she was fairly certain he hadn’t stood a chance.

  “Yeah, sure, whatever you need to tell yourself to feel tough, Alex.” He continued to stare at her despite her silence. “You miss him, don’t you?”

  “No.” She tossed the clod of dirt aside and started pulling another from the earth.

  “That was really convincing.” He rolled his eyes. Sure, he’d wanted things to go back to the way they were before she’d met Lucas, but this wasn’t what he’d bargained for.

  “Okay, fine. I’ve thought about him a few times. Are you happy now? She glared at him.

  “No,” he said softly, “because you’re not. You’re miserable.”

  “I am not. I’m fine. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

  “Like what? I mean, other than Fang Face.”

  Alex searched her mind. “Well, like the homework for Mrs. McNeal’s class.” She said after a moment.

  Sean snorted. “Yeah, right. What are we even reading in Lit. class?”

  “Othello?” She didn’t even sound convincing to her own ears.

  “Othello was last six weeks. We moved on to the Canterbury Tales a while ago.” He struggled to stifle his laughter.

  “So, what’s your point?” She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to block the wind.

  “Alex, the last time you even worried about a class we were in, oh, I don’t know, the fifth gr
ade.”

  “Well, maybe I’m turning over a new leaf.”

  “Going to be a little hard to do, if you can’t even remember what story we were assigned.”

  She shrugged.

  “My point is, you’re not happy. You miss him.” He sighed. “Look, I’ll be the first to say, you dating a vampire is a little freaky to me, but you’re not going to be satisfied until you talk to him.”

  “Apparently, he doesn’t want to talk to me.”

  “Did he say that?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Then what gives you that idea?”

  “He’s not exactly falling over himself to apologize to me, now is he?”

  He paused to think. He knew how stubborn his friend could be. They’d only ever had one falling out. After which he figured they still wouldn’t be talking to each other if he hadn’t pulled his sleeping bag onto her front yard and refused to leave until she talked to him. He couldn’t see reserved Lucas pulling a stunt like that.

  “Well, what was the last thing you said to him before you left?” He asked after a moment had passed.

  “I don’t know. I think it was something along the lines of ‘forget you ever met me’.”

  Sean ran his hand down his face. “No wonder he hasn’t bothered to come and talk to you.”

  “Huh?”

  “For starters, that statement kind of screams ‘leave me alone’.”

  “I didn’t really mean it. He should know that.”

  “It’s not like he’s a mind reader…” Sean paused, realizing what he’d just said. “Scratch that. It was a stupid statement. Forget I said it.”

  “My point exactly.”

  ‘Oh, come on, Alex. Lucas is pretty literal. He might have actually thought you meant it.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Then he’s an idiot.”

  “He’s, like, ancient. Maybe people didn’t say things like that flippantly when he was alive.”

  “That’s not my fault.”

  Sean sighed again. “Nobody said it was your fault, but, maybe it’s not his either. Maybe it’s no one’s fault. For all you know he’s sitting at his place just as unhappy.”

  She seemed to perk up a bit at that idea. “Really? You think so?”

  “I don’t know, but maybe. He could think that you meant what you said. Go talk to him.”

  She leaned back against the tombstone. “No way. If he wants to talk, he can come to me.”

  He glanced up at the heavens in exasperation. It was official. He was never going to date. Relationships apparently turned perfectly sane people into raving nutcases. “How is that approach working for you so far?”

  She glared at him again. “I’ll get over it.”

  “You probably would, given enough time. But what if you don’t have to? Just walk the few blocks to his place, knock on the door, and see if he answers. If he does, ask him to come outside so you can talk.” He paused. “That way you’re still making him meet you halfway. If he doesn’t answer, then no one even has to know you went over there. Heck, use the excuse that you want to know if you still have a job. He is your boss, too, after all.”

  She thought about it for a second. “I don’t want to look like I’m needy.”

  He laughed. “Alex, I doubt you could look needy if you tried.”

  She smiled at him, the first he’d seen in the last few days. “Thanks.”

  “Now go talk to him.”

  “Okay, fine,” she said as she stood up and brushed the dirt off her pants. “But only so you’ll leave me alone about it.”

  He grinned at her. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly why you got up so fast.”

  She tossed the clump of grass she’d been holding at him. “Walk me halfway so I don’t lose the guts to do it?”

  He nodded. “Sure. But I’m leaving before you knock on his door. I really don’t want to wait around for the make out fest that’s going to follow.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Alex took a deep breath, trying to muster courage. She lifted her hand to knock on the door. Then put it back at her side unused. Then tried again, only to get the same results.

  “This is stupid,” she muttered to herself, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket. Standing there, she debated turning around. She could tell Sean that Lucas hadn’t been home. She didn’t have to admit that she’d been a coward.

  And she wasn’t a coward, as far as she was concerned, at least not usually. The whole walk over she’d focused on psyching her mind up for this. She’d reminded herself that Lucas was, if nothing else, at least rational. She told herself he’d give her a chance to speak. But there was an echo inside her head that kept asking but what if he doesn’t?

  She steadied her shaking hand and forced herself to knock on the door. She had to know. A few seconds passed before she could hear the sound of footsteps on the hardwood floor. It seemed to take forever for him to open the door.

  The room behind him was completely dark. Lucas blinked against the harshness of the fluorescent porch light.

  “Alex,” he said softly, running her hand through his hair in an attempt to tidy his appearance.

  She’d never seen him like this before. The black button up shirt he wore was wrinkled, as if he’d been wearing it for several days. Judging from the black stain on the thigh of his jeans, he’d dropped his inkpot on himself and hadn’t bothered to change.

  “What happened to you?” She asked. For a moment, she completely forgot why she’d come in the first place.

  “I, that is, I was not expecting visitors tonight.”

  “You look like you got in a fight with a printing press and lost.”

  He almost smiled, but stopped himself. He was all too aware of the fact that she might only be stopping by to pick up the money he owed her for the work she’d done prior to their argument.

  “I apologize for my appearance. I have been attending to other matters,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.

  “Oh,” she paused. “If this is a bad time, I can come back later.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply—”

  “No, really, it’s fine.” She interrupted. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

  “Alex,” he put a hand on her shoulder to stop her from leaving. “Would you like to come in?”

  She nodded.

  “So…” She started, but trailed off after she’d taken a seat on the small black upholstered chair she’d picked out to match his couch. The living room was filled with the sounds of the television. On the screen a professor explained something to do with Grecian artifacts. “When did you start watching TV?’

  He stretched his arm over the side of the sofa where he sat and retrieved the remote from the coffee table. Pressing mute, he briefly considered telling her that he’d done little else in the last few days. Not because it was particularly interesting, but because he’d lacked the motivation for much else. He’d given up on working after spilling the second inkpot. “Seeing as how I have lost my assistant, I believed it best to find another avenue from which to acclimate myself to cultural changes that have taken place,” he tossed the remote back on the table as he spoke.

  She didn’t respond.

  “Was there something you wished to speak with me about?” He asked. The clock in the kitchen ticked the seconds away as they passed.

  She sighed. “I wanted to apologize. The other night I was a jerk. I know it’s not an excuse, but I was already angry at Kirk and I guess I took it out on you.”

  “I had assumed as much,” he said softly.

  “However, that doesn’t do away with the fact that I still think it was completely stupid of you to tell Roderick about our conversation.”

  The corner of Lucas’ mouth lifted. He should have known that she wouldn’t allow things to be that simple. “I tried to explain, but I am fairly certain you were not in a mood to listen.”

  She resisted the urge to snap at him that there wasn’t an excuse to tell a possible psycho-killer that
you suspected they’re guilty of chopping people’s heads off. “Fine. Let’s hear it.”

  Lucas leaned forward. “Although I myself did not believe him capable of such actions, I took your concerns seriously and thought to address the matter. I have known Roderick for many years. It is no great feat for me to determine when he is lying.”

  “People change Lucas. You haven’t been around him, until recently, in over a hundred years.”

  “People change, yes, but immortality causes an individual’s life to slow. The kind of transformation it would take for Roderick to become what you’ve described wouldn’t take place in a mere century.” He insisted.

  “We can agree to disagree on this one.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “But that doesn’t change the fact that he threatened my life.”

  Lucas sighed. “He was toying with you, Alex. I am quite sure of it.”

  “How can you be so certain?”

  “Because,” he smiled, “the first time, when I instructed him how to take blood, he proceeded to vomit.”

  Alex stifled a giggle. “Are you serious?”

  He nodded. He’d miss that sound. “Roderick said, if I remember correctly, that the whole ordeal was ‘too violent’ for his taste.”

  “You weren’t, like, showing him how to kill someone were you?” She asked, a small crease appearing between her eyebrows.

  “Of course not. I don’t believe in such. But he was disgusted to be doing anything of the sort to a human being. Why do you think he keeps a ready supply of blood in his home?”

  She shrugged. “Then why did he threaten me?”

  “As I have said before, he enjoys your reaction. Were you to act unfazed, he would tire of it all.” He paused for a moment. “He was horrified when he thought it was I who suspected him guilty of these crimes. It was only after I assured him that I did not that he guessed it must be you who felt this way.”

  She took a deep breath. “I don’t know. He makes my skin crawl.”

  “If you’d like, I can inform him that he is not to stop by here unannounced.” Over the last few days he’d realized he would have been willing to do a lot more for her comfort.

 

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