Evan: Book Two of the Destine Series

by Laurie D'Ghent

  Steeling herself, sounding completely decided, she said, “San Diego.”

  Evan laughed again, looking askance at her. “What? Why in the world do you want to go there?”

  “I wanna go to Sea World,” she said, sounding slightly defensive.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Why not? I think I deserve a vacation.” She crossed her arms across her chest.

  “You want to take a vampire to Sea World? Have you forgotten the whole 'Kellin is one of a kind' thing? Animals tend to be unhappy when we're around.”

  “Well, then, we can go to the beach. After all, you'll keep the sharks away. No Jaws moments with your own undead caretaker along.”

  Evan laughed, an honest, pure sound that caused her to flinch at its unexpectedness. He laughed so hard, he had to pull the car to the side of the road. Integrity blamed her relief at escaping another near-death experience, but she couldn't help laughing along. She laughed until she was sick.

  His mirth tapering slowly off, the occasionally chuckle still bursting forth, Evan put the car back into gear and pulled onto the road once more. “San Diego,” he announced, “here we come.”

  Є

  Evan never offered to stop at a hotel as they drove, but Integrity felt guilty for being grouchy about it when he was so good to stop every few hours to get her something to eat or let her stretch her legs. She was still astounded at the wad of cash Evan had brought out of the bank in the nearest town. She'd never seen so much money in her life. It wouldn't even fit in one or two of the bank's envelopes—it came out in a paper lunch sack, for crying out loud. She didn't know what kind of comment to make about that, so she said nothing at all.

  Evan had, predictably, chosen some jazzy little two seater at Westmarch, one with an annoyingly loud motor, so Integrity couldn't even stretch out in the back seat to go to sleep but was forced to crunch up in a ball and rest her head on the passenger side window. Needless to say, she didn't sleep well, although Evan was unusually accommodating--turning off the music, offering her his suit jacket as a blanket. It was all discombobulating.

  They drove through an arid, ugly area devoid of human habitation for most of a day, passing the occasional gas station or ranch, then abruptly entered the land of palm trees and lush greenery. Integrity lost all desire for sleep, her eyes raking over their surroundings hungrily. She began pointing things out in her excitement, forgetting that Evan would be unlikely to care about any of it.

  The ride went on and on, the day drifting into night, the temperature steadily rising. Integrity was grateful for the air conditioning, and that Evan had been considerate enough to turn it on, but she wished she could see more than the slew of lights that marked habitation. The hum of the freeway under the tires lulled her into a doze.

  “Integrity.”

  She pulled herself out of her stupor, bleary eyed and slow witted. “What?” she mumbled, her mouth dry. Had she been drooling?

  “I'll be right back. I'm just going in to get a room. Don't unlock the door.”

  Irritated, but too tired to do much about it, she saluted him sloppily. “Yes, sir. I won't take candy from strangers, either.”

  Evan frowned, but made no response, locking his door behind him as he climbed out. When he shut it, the car rocked slightly, making Integrity dizzy. She rubbed at her eyes, then looked around.

  Tasteful, muted lighting shown off the palm trees, low bushes, and flowers. The car was parked under what looked to be a marble portcullis, complete with Grecian columns and urns, the pavement large squares of natural, polished stone. The lobby itself was encased in glass, allowing a clear view of the large front desk and opulent furnishings. Integrity could see Evan talking with the desk clerk, accepting an envelope with a plastic key card and a sheet of paper, then turning back to the car. She hurried to look away, not wanting to be caught staring, even though the dark tint of the windows provided more privacy than was needed.

  Evan waited for her to unlock his door, handed her the piece of paper, which she could see was a map of the hotel grounds, but kept the key card to himself, then put the car into gear and slowly pulled out. He twisted past an exceptionally long, two story building and a taller, separate building, then pulled into a parking space deep within the confines of the resort. Integrity had never seen such a large hotel, but reminded herself that she'd never lived in such a densely populated area, either. She climbed out of the car and followed Evan up a flight of stairs to the second story.

  The room he opened was cast in shadow, but as he flipped on lights, Integrity's breath was taken away. She'd never seen anything like this, not even at Westmarch. An interior designer had made the place beautiful and functional. Integrity locked the deadbolt and slid the bar lock into place, then slowly walked into the room, taking in the kitchen, sitting area, balcony, dining area, bathroom, and bedroom. “Wow,” she couldn't help but say.

  “It meets with your approval?” Evan asked, dropping the key card on a coffee table in front of the plasma screen TV.

  “Yeah, I think it'll do,” she laughed, awestruck. “I should run away with strange men more often.”

  Evan frowned, and walked out to the balcony. Integrity hesitated a moment, then followed. She leaned her arms on the railing and looked over the view of the bay in front of her, city lights sparkling on the water. “I didn't mean you're strange,” she said, lightly. “Well, you are, but not terribly,” she amended.

  Evan smiled, though it looked forced. “I try,” he responded, still gazing out over the water. “We'll go shopping in the morning. I imagine you're quite tired.”

  Just the mention of sleep made Integrity yawn. She laughed, self-conscious. “Yeah, I guess I am.” Running her tongue over her teeth, she grimaced. “First on the list—toothpaste.” She pushed herself away from the balustrade and turned to go back in the room. She paused, one hand resting on the sliding glass door. “Hey, Evan?”

  He turned and looked at her, leaning back against the railing.

  “Thanks,” she said, then turned and headed back into the rooms. Evan remained on the balcony, pensive.

  Є

  Integrity slept late the next morning, but she still felt tired when she got up. That's normal. No one can ride for that long in a car and not end up with jet lag.

  As she walked into the living room, Evan entered from the balcony. She wondered if he'd stayed out there all night. Without any salutation, Evan scooped a black folder off of the table and held it out to her as he crossed the room. “Why don't you decide what you want for breakfast. I had a few things brought up from the gift shop; they're in the bathroom.”

  Integrity took the menu, tucking her hair behind one ear, uncomfortable. He wasn't exactly being rude, but she still felt like she was an inmate to his prison warden. She scanned the list quickly, then picked the first thing that seemed doable. While Evan called in the order, she went to bathroom, curious to know what a vampire would buy from a gift shop.

  On the granite counter top, neatly laid out in a row, Integrity found a toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, a comb, and a brush. She had to give him a little credit—granted, there were a few more things she would have chosen, but this was certainly better than nothing; plus, it meant he'd actually listened to her last night when she'd said she wanted a toothbrush. Guess I have to give him props—but only a little, she thought, grudgingly. After all, he's still treating me like a pain-in-the-butt kid sister that tags along everywhere he goes.

  Room service was surprisingly quick, and Integrity was glad when Evan went back to the balcony while she ate—she still wasn't used to eating in front of people who never ate. It was a sure way to make you feel like a disgusting slob. There was no way to eat quietly.

  He must have been watching her off and on, though, because he came in almost immediately after she set down her silverware. The food sat heavy in her stomach—the menu had not had any prices in it, but from the way the food was plated and the quality of the service, she suspected she'd never paid
so much for eggs before. Evan glanced at the watch on his wrist, pulled his suit jacket off the back of a chair, and slipped it on, as he said, “Are you ready to go get some clothes? I have an appointment at noon.”

  She thought about making a smart remark about his “question” when she obviously didn't have a choice, but she decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. She put her shoes back on and followed him out to the car, the heat and humidity hitting her as soon as she left the air-conditioned room. The sun was so bright that she was forced to squint. Shielding her eyes, she asked, “Aren't you going to burst in to flame or something?”

  Evan snorted. “Hardly.”

  “Can I at least get a little sparkle?” she teased.

  Evan glanced over his shoulder at her, watching her progress to the passenger side of the car. “I'm afraid I'm not nearly so terrifying,” he said, gravely.

  She laughed as she slid into the low seat, fastening her seat belt. “So, where are we going?” she asked as he backed the car out of their parking space.

  “Some place the concierge suggested,” he said, pausing before he turned left into the heavy traffic.

  Jutting a thumb over her shoulder, she asked, “That place has a concierge? I didn't know those things were even real.”

  Evan looked askance at her. “Ben must have chosen very...classy...lodgings,” he replied, sounding completely unconcerned.

  “Not quite. We mainly stayed in the car, and it wasn't nearly as nice as this one.” She ran one hand over the leather seat she sat on. “Though, I must point out, no poor little cow had to die for that car.”

  “You mean like some poor little chicken's life was snuffed out for your eggs?”

  She stuck her tongue out at him, then began taking in her surroundings. She caught occasional glimpses of water, the bay seeming to weave in and out of buildings wherever it was convenient. The buildings, especially those abutting the street they were on, were all several stories high and packed very closely together, if not actually connected. People were everywhere, walking, sitting, even singing. Integrity looked for an open guitar case to collect change, but they passed the man too quickly for her to see whether or not he was trying to raise funds.

  At 11:59, Evan pulled into a parking space directly in front of a store with a swirly, fancy name written over the door. The store was rather skinny, though Integrity assumed that it continued into the upper floors. “This is it?” she asked, unbuckling and opening her door. She looked at the facade, noticing distinguished dummies modeling clothes in the two windows. She felt apprehension creep up her spine when she saw how fancy the clothes were. Surely he doesn't want me to keep dressing like we're at Westmarch? The whole princess schtick doesn't exactly blend in.

  A melodic tinkling sounded as Evan opened the door, and Integrity glanced up to see a tasteful wind chime, placed just within the door's swinging pathway. It even sounded expensive, like her mom's wind chime was made of old soup cans. She wiped her hands on her skirt.

  “Ah, Mr. Sorensen, I presume?” Integrity turned toward the melodious voice to see a woman of indeterminate years with a sleek up do gliding toward them. “Right on time, I see,” she continued, glancing at a dainty watch.

  “This is my sister, Selena,” Evan replied, gesturing toward Integrity. “I fear she did not prepare for this trip and is in need of a new wardrobe.”

  The woman's eyes lit noticeably as she offered her hand to Integrity. “How lovely to meet you,” she purred.

  Integrity shook her hand, which was completely limp and slightly cool to the touch. She turned to ask Evan if the woman were a vampire, too, but decided she didn't want to end up in a padded cell when there were so many miles of beach outside. “Nice to meet you, too,” she replied, not really paying attention to what she was saying. She withdrew her hand, fighting the urge to wipe it on her skirt again.

  The woman turned and headed deeper into the store. “Right this way, please,” she said over her shoulder as she disappeared behind a partition. Hesitant, Integrity followed, Evan bringing up the rear.

  They entered a room that appeared spacious, though Integrity knew that wasn't possible based on the dimensions of the building. The woman waved toward two low, heavily padded chairs. Evan sank into the nearest, and Integrity moved to the remaining chair, but the woman made a high-pitched tutting noise. “No, no, no,” she chided playfully. “You are the woman of the hour. Please, come stand here.”

  Integrity moved nearer the woman, glancing at Evan. Another woman was murmuring something to him, acting very much like the servants at Westmarch, but he was waving her off.

  Integrity turned back to the first woman, only to discover that she was surrounded by three men. All very similar, and all holding pink tape measures. “Up, up, up!” the woman said brightly, waving for Integrity to raise her arms. The men flew into action, measuring everything imaginable without ever actually touching her. Integrity tried to glance at Evan again, but couldn't turn enough to see. After a moment, the woman clapped her hands and the men withdrew immediately. She smiled at Integrity. “Now, my pet, you can sit next to your charming brother.” Integrity walked back to her seat in a daze—had that woman really just hit on Evan? Ew. She has to be, like, 35.

  Only now did Integrity notice that there were no clothes visible, anywhere. The room looked more like a posh hotel lobby than a clothing store, and she grew even more confused. Tasteful music floated in the background.

  “Now what?” she whispered to Evan, wondering if there were hidden cameras watching them.

  “Now, we wait,” he said calmly. “Would you like something to drink? I could call the docent back.” Integrity shook her head nervously. “I tend to forget that you...do those things,” he said, sounding almost apologetic behind the gruffness.

  “What things?” she asked, thoroughly confused.

  “You know, drink, eat, that stuff.”

  Integrity laughed, too loud. “You forget I'm a weak little human? Gee, thanks.”

  Before the conversation could go any further, Integrity heard the approach of several people and turned to the raised platform directly in front of them. Their hostess reentered, followed by three women in flowing, formal gowns. Integrity swallowed hard.

  The woman that had flirted with Evan crossed the room to stand beside Integrity and began lauding the benefits of each gown. Integrity quit listening after a moment, having a hard time assimilating the whole situation. When the woman fell silent, Integrity looked at her, then to Evan in desperation. “She'll take the one in the middle,” he said. The women walked silently off the platform and another group trouped out, this time wearing suits. Integrity paled.

  It quickly became apparent that Integrity was not going to make many decisions, so the docent moved to Evan's side and they picked out a wardrobe together. Integrity wanted to protest, but she didn't have the courage. You've already embarrassed yourself enough; just make Evan return the crap later.

  Є

  Back at the hotel, Integrity began unpacking the boxes Evan had carried up from the car. While the clothes were beautiful, none of them seemed very practical. Even the pajamas were over the top. When she realized one small box even contained under garments, she slammed the lid back in place. “That's it,” she muttered, stomping out of the room.

  As per usual, Evan was standing on the balcony, looking over the bay. Integrity cleared her throat loudly. He turned, waited for her to speak. “Those clothes have got to go back,” she said, doing her best to sound firm. She found she had a hard time holding her head still under his scrutiny.

  “Why?” he asked, sounding more bemused than offended.

  Integrity shrugged defensively. “They're ridiculous. I'm not going to dress like I'm going to a board meeting, or prom, when I'm just going to be stuck in this hotel room all the time, anyway.”

  Evan leaned back against the railing, crossing one ankle over the other. “Oh, so you've decided to become a hermit? I wish you would have told me this morning;
then I could have gotten you potato sacks for dresses and I wouldn't have bought nearly as many shoes.”

  “There's shoes, too?” Integrity asked, her curiosity peaked. “No,” she interrupted herself, shaking her head, “that's not the point. I don't want to be a hermit. I thought I had to be. I mean, I always am, aren't I?”

  “I'm not saying we should tattoo 'DESTINE' across your forehead and paint a huge bullseye on your back, but I don't see any need to stay here all the time.” He gestured vaguely at the room before him.

  “Really?” Integrity tamped down her rising hopes, embarrassed at how excited she had sounded. “Well, I guess that's cool,” she said, trying to brush it off. “At least I won't have to be so bored.” Recalling her initial complaint, she said, “But the clothes have still gotta go.”

  Evan stretched his arms over his head. She looked away. After a moment, he said, “Fine, I'll make you a deal. You keep the clothes I got, and we can go get what you want.”

  “Why keep clothes I don't want? You could return them and feed a small country with the money.”

  Evan shrugged. “You never know when you might feel like dressing up.” Integrity noticed a sudden shift in his expression, though she couldn't have said what had changed. Sounding more withdrawn, unconnected, Evan said, “Go and change and I'll take you wherever you want to go.” When her eyes lit up, he held up a restraining hand. “To get clothes,” he amended.

  “Fine,” Integrity grumbled, scuffing her feet on the floor as she headed back to her room. “But you need clothes, too, you know,” she called over her shoulder, quickly shutting the door behind her. If he gets to pick clothes for me, she mused, then, it's only fair, I should get to pick clothes for him. She smiled sinisterly. This could be fun.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “Please tell me you're joking.”

  Integrity grinned at the disgust in Evan's voice. “Nope. This is what I keyed into the GPS, and this is where we're shopping.”

  He watched a mother drag a rather whiny (and grimy) child past his car. “How lovely.”