Turning Point

by K M Smith

  “No, thank you,” he replied.

  Sarah nodded, and brought everything over to the table on a wooden tray.

  “Here we go,” she said, passing him a mug and spoon. “This should keep us going while we chat.”

  “Thank you, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a cup of tea.”

  “I find a warm beverage makes most any news a bit more bearable,” Sarah said as she reached for her own mug and spoon.

  “Mmm,” her guest nodded in agreement.

  “You know, I just realized I don’t even know your name!” Sarah smiled good-naturedly, then said, “I feel like it’s supposed to be odd that you’re here, but it doesn’t really feel that way. Isn’t that funny?” Her voice rose an octave with the question, and she let a small sigh escape. “I just know you must have something important to tell me if you’re wandering around in the cold at this hour.” She placed the spoon on the table next to the tea cup and continued to adjust it with small moves until it was in the precisely correct location.

  “Thank you for inviting me in, and for the tea, Sarah,” he said, reaching for the tea pot. His voice, like silk, caressed her ears. She relished the feeling and leaned in to listen more. “My name is Adam. You’ve actually met me before, but you wouldn’t remember me.” He poured tea into both of their mugs, then paused.

  Sarah stopped fiddling with the spoon. Fingers snapped in her mind and the contented haze that had surrounded and propelled her dissipated. How did she get to the kitchen? Why is there a stranger at the table in the middle of the night? She froze, suddenly afraid. She said the only thing she could think of. “Uhm, what did you say your name was?”

  Leaning forward and smiling, the man clasped his hands in front of him. “Adam. What are you thinking about, Sarah?”

  The man’s eyes held her in place. She shook her head. As the haze cleared, she remembered Alice had told her about someone named Adam. “You’re Adam?” she said, her voice cracking with the question. “You’re Alice’s… Adam?”

  He nodded. “Yes. Did she tell you anything about me?”

  Sarah’s world wobbled. What appeared to be a man, an ordinary human man, sat across from her. Warning bells sounded inside her mind, but she didn’t move to make him leave. In truth, a stranger, a supposed supernatural killer, was drinking tea in her kitchen and all she could think to do was offer him another cup.

  In an attempt to shake away the head fog, she stood and backed away. Stumbling, she leaned on the table to support herself. Part of her brain screamed for her to run, to call the police, anything as long as she fled to safety. But some other part washed her in comfort, urging her to stay close. Gripping the edge of the table, Sarah squeezed her eyes shut. Pieces of memories—were they memories?—bubbled up in her mind, but none of them made sense. Her hands shook as electricity coursed through her body. Needing something to focus on, she searched the room, looking anywhere but at Adam, and settled on watching the clock. The repetitive tick-ticking helped calm her and soon the buzzing drained away.

  Not ready to speak yet, she kept her eyes on the clock, watching the red, needle-like second hand make its way from the five, all the way around and back again. All the while, the man at her table never moved.

  Trying to appear normal, she returned her seat and addressed Adam. “Yes, Alice told me about you. I, ah, I told her she was being ridiculous.” Sarah paused, conflict clouding her eyes. The man sitting here with her appeared normal, yet his skin looked like marble and a weird energy radiated off him. She felt different because of him. Her gut told her she was right to be concerned regardless of what her eyes saw. “I told her there were no such things as….” her voice trailed off before she could finish the sentence.

  Warmth spread through her body when she looked at the man, at Adam. An airy blanket of security and calmness wrapped around her the moment she met his eyes. “This isn’t… this doesn’t make any sense.” Sarah’s voice suddenly became hoarse.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

  Sarah nodded but didn’t speak. She should be running out the door. Instead, she sat trapped in her kitchen, held by his whims.

  “Okay, Sarah,” he said. The room suddenly went from warm and fuzzy to downright cozy, and Sarah relaxed–inside and out. Blinking slowly, she looked up at Adam, ready to listen.

  “I need to know that you're following me, so I am going to tell you what I am, in my own words.” Sarah watched his hands. His fingers interlaced precisely. They were hard and still, statuelike. Intrigued by this, Sarah looked from his hands up his arm and focused on his mouth. “I’m a vam—”

  “Vampire,” Sarah said, finishing his sentence. “You’re a vampire, and Alice was right.”

  Sarah pushed herself back and away from the table, the feet of her chair screaking their way along the floor. Agitated, she paced. “My God,” she whispered. “She was right. She was telling the truth.”

  Adam never moved, not even to flinch. With her arms wrapped around her middle, Sarah wore a path in the wooden floor. More images surfaced in her mind, aligning and clarifying her own story. Parts that had never made sense, did now. This is a nightmare, she thought. Vampires are not real.

  “You were there,” she said, reliving her hazy memories of that night so long ago. “You were there, you called the ambulance.” Still pacing. “Why didn’t I die? What did you do?” Lowering herself back down at the table, she immediately sprang back to her feet. “You gave me blood?” Gripping her scalp, she thought, Alice was right.

  “You gave me blood so that I wouldn’t die.” The revelation crashed down on her. Her life story as she knew it was wrong. Had any choices she’d made been hers? What about Alice—how is she alive? Melting into her chair, she raised her hands in front of her face. They were shaking.

  “What else could I have done?” Adam said. But Sarah wasn’t listening.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Adam

  The sun would be up soon. If Adam wanted information from Sarah, he needed to act.

  He took her hand. She flinched, but she didn’t pull away. The feel of Sarah’s skin sent jolts of electricity through him. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He had been struggling with how to tell her about Alice. If he charmed her into relaxing and accepting everything he had to say, he wouldn’t be able to glean any information from her, and she wouldn’t be able to help him strategize. If he chose to tell her straight out, she may retreat further.

  Adam chose to maintain body contact while he broke the news. “Sarah,” he began. She remained still, looking straight ahead, but her hand moved almost imperceptibly when he said her name. “Sarah, I came here in the middle of the night because I believe Alice has been kidnapped.” Sarah grasped his hand and squeezed as she brought her eyes up to meet his. The gesture was fueled by nerves and fear, not compassion, as sad as that was for him.

  “What?” her voice cracked. She had to clear her throat before she could continue. “What do you mean kidnapped? By whom?”

  “Sarah, I think Drew—” Adam caught his mistake and winced. He was not prepared to discuss his relationship with Drew tonight. “Andrew. I think Andrew took Alice.”

  Silent and motionless, Sarah kept her hand in Adam’s while her eyes looked straight ahead, glazed over and unfocused. Adam squeezed her hand. He hoped he hadn’t sent her deeper into her thoughts, but Sarah returned his grip and blinked heavily.

  “Andrew,” she said. She removed her hand from Adam’s grasp and massaged her forehead. “How do you—” she cleared her throat again. “Ah, how do you know Andrew?” Her voice was shaky, and she ran a nervous hand down the back of her neck as she spoke. She stood and walked over to the counter.

  Adam remained seated but turned to watch her and soak up every movement. “Sarah—”

  “No,” she said. With her back to him, she placed her hands on the edge of her porcelain sink. “No. Adam.” She locked her elbows and dropped her head. “Dammit,” she said. “Dammi
t, Adam. You don’t know Andrew! You can’t. He’s dead. He didn’t leave me. He was killed!” She sobbed then, a loud sharp solitary sound that filled the kitchen. She stayed put, her head hanging down. Anger, confusion, and pain radiated from her.

  Adam rose to go to her. “Sarah, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I never would’ve—” he stopped himself midway through his confession and looked down.

  Sarah turned around to face him. Tears leaked out of her red and puffy eyes. She used the edge of her sleeve to wipe her nose and her cheeks. “Uhm,” dropping her arms to her sides, she stood up straighter. “You didn’t know? What didn’t you know?” She took a step forward and Adam stepped back, reeling from her pain. He refused to dip into her mind, but the waves of ire and distrust, worry and anguish, were so intense, he didn’t need to be a mind reader to know she hated him right then. She’d made life choices based on inaccurate information. Her life could’ve been so different. If only. Adam bowed his head, ashamed of the part he played in her decades-long ordeal.

  Sarah moved very close to him. She wrapped her arms around her body in a self-preserving way—the similarity in mannerisms between mother and daughter was not lost on him. She looked up, searching his face. He brought his eyes to meet hers. If I charmed her, she’d never remember, she’d never have to re-live any of this. His heartbeat quickened, apace with hers. Only then did he catch her scent. He’d been so focused on his mission that he nearly missed this glorious moment.

  He wished he could revel in it—she smelled of honey and musk—he wished he could take her in his arms, protect her, and whisper soothing and loving words to her. He wished she would reach out to him with the same urgency that he had for her and press her whole body to his. He wished he could make her world whole, and kiss her gently on the neck, behind her ear, his nose nuzzling in the curve where her hair meets her skin, with Sarah laughing at how charming he was. Most of all, he wished he could tell her what she meant to him, what she has meant to him since that first time he saw her in Cascarelli’s so many years before. But Sarah’s next words brought him promptly back to the present.

  “You took him from me,” she said. It was a statement made without anger, but heavy with realization. She turned her head away and walked back toward the table.

  Adam felt the weight of her words. He knew that everything was riding on what he did and said next. He couldn’t change the past, but he hoped he could make it right now. With vampiric speed, he grabbed her and swept her up into his arms.

  Gasping and wriggling, she struggled to break free. “Put me—” Sarah demanded, but Adam cut her off.

  “Hold on tight,” he said. “Trust me.” He whisked her out her front door and seconds later they arrived at his tree outside the humanities building. The cold ground held firm under Sarah’s slippered feet as Adam released her. A puff of crystalline snow sparkled in the streetlights from their sudden appearance. Teetering, she grabbed his arm to regain her balance. Adam’s arm warmed at her touch, but any hope that she was happy to be near him was quickly extinguished when she jerked her hand away.

  “Oh my God!” Eyes wide and panting, Sarah stammered as she looked around. “H-How did we get here?” Her knuckles blanched as she gripped her robe tightly and pulled it close to her chest. She shivered. “What’s going on? Why are we here?”

  “You’re cold,” Adam said. He removed his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. “I apologize. I didn’t think.” He straightened his jacket on her and allowed his hands to linger on her shoulders. He gave Sarah a reassuring squeeze and a smile. She tensed at his touch but didn’t move to stop him.

  “We’re here,” Adam gestured around him and took a step backward, his green eyes sparkling in the light, “because this is my favorite spot. At least, it has been for the last twenty-two years.” Adam ran his hand through his hair; his cheeks flushed, and he looked away from Sarah.

  Sarah looked around, her face screwed up in confusion. “I don’t understand,” she said.

  “Sarah, it’s you.” He smiled and threw his arms out wide. Once he started speaking, there was no turning back. “You're the reason I’ve been coming to this spot every night for the past two decades. You're the reason I was there the night of your accident, and you're the reason I’m here now.” Sarah stared at him, mouth agape, disbelief in her eyes. “Sarah, there are so many things I need to explain,” he began, his mouth grim, vaguely gesturing at the air around him, “but now isn’t the best time.” He looked off in the distance at the hazy blue sky signaling the impending dawn.

  Sarah nodded a tight, sharp nod and breathed in a jagged breath, her arms still protectively wrapped around her midsection. She stared at him, her eyes wide and clear, and exhaled a long slow breath. Adam watched her face take on several expressions, and he could hardly stand to see where she would end up. Sarah chuckled and slowly turned around on the spot. She stopped when she faced Adam. With her hand over her mouth she stood there, shaking her head, the whites of her eyes reflecting the brilliance of the snow as it swirled under the street lights outside her office. Adam felt her disbelief and realized that she was laughing.

  Adam’s eyes crinkled, and he smiled. He searched Sarah’s face, trying to read her thoughts without dipping into her mind. “You have questions,” he said.

  She nodded. “I have questions.”

  “Ask away,” he said. “But quickly. I’ll have to go soon.”

  Sarah nodded again. “Why haven’t you tried to bite me?”

  Adam’s smile faltered. “Sarah…”

  She put her hand up. “Okay. I understand. I think. I—I don’t know if I should run away or stay here and hear you out.” She shuffled her shoulders to bring his coat closer around her body and looked at him. She reached out to stroke his cheek. Adam closed his eyes and stood motionless, reveling in her touch, but his euphoria was cut short when she pulled her hand back.

  “You’re so cold,” she said, her voice inquisitive. “How are you so cold?”

  Eyes still closed, Adam waited for her to touch him again or not. A moment later, and with the lightest touch, he felt her fingers on his skin. Adam opened his eyes and forced himself to keep a calm demeanor.

  “Why aren’t I so cold? It’s freezing out here.” She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. Her tension was easing.

  “I gave you my coat.” He shrugged. “And, I—I can make people feel things. Sometimes.”

  Sarah nodded and cupped his cheek with one hand while her other hand held her robe closed. He searched her face, looking for any sign of how she felt, what she was thinking. Sarah gently rubbed her thumb along his chin. His jaw was free of stubble, and her thumb glided smoothly along its curve. She smiled a small smile, but it was big enough to be seen in her eyes. Adam returned her smile and reached up to hold her wrist.

  “You’re so cold.” Her voice was filled with awe, and she didn’t flinch at his touch. His heart pounded in his chest. This whole night felt like a crazy dream. But it would have to end, for now. The sky was beginning to lose its midnight blue, signaling the rising of the sun.

  Reluctantly breaking his gaze with her, he flashed a small smile. “Sarah, it’s late. I—”

  “Take me home,” she said. A smile twitched on her lips. “We can talk more there.”

  In a blink, Adam took her home.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Sarah

  Disoriented and exhausted, Sarah faced Adam from her perch on the stairs, her mind reeling from information overload. It had been such a strange evening: vampires, old wounds reopening, kidnapping, dead husbands not being dead, moving from place to place faster than she could conceive, vampires. Sarah had always considered herself open-minded, but vampires? Even in the presence of a man who claimed to be one, and except for the lack of a demonstrative fang display, had proven to be one, she still couldn’t wrap her mind around the existence of these mythical creatures. If vampires were real, what other legends might exist? Should she line her house with silver durin
g a full moon to ward off werewolves? Would that work? What about zombies? They must be real. She shuttered at the thought. Adam, man or vampire, had told her he thought her daughter had been kidnapped by her husband, whom she had presumed to be dead. He seemed earnest, but maybe he was throwing some sort of vampire juju on her to make her think that. Deep down, and as crazy as it all sounded, the stories he told her made sense. And why would he lie about this? Why come to her, talk to her, comfort her, then kill her? Not even the vilest creatures would spend so much time playing with their victims before committing the inevitable crime—except for maybe cats, and they had their reasons. No, for now, she had to believe him. She would do whatever he needed her to do to get her daughter back home safely.

  “Why would Andrew take Alice?” Sarah asked, her body coiled up tightly as she searched Adam’s face for answers. Motionless at the bottom of the stairs, he returned Sarah’s gaze but gave no clues to his thoughts. A mannequin’s expressions would’ve been more readable. Finally, he spoke. “He’s never met her, maybe it is just simple curiosity.”

  “Hmmph,” Sarah uttered. “Do you do things out of simple curiosity?” She could think of a few reasons Andrew might have taken her daughter and curiosity didn’t factor into any of them.

  “Sarah, I—” Adam began to answer her question but hesitated. He looked down, avoiding her gaze.

  She cut him off before he had the chance to lie. “Can you find them?” she asked and stood up to walk him to the door. She would deal with whatever he was hiding later, if any of this actually happened, that is. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was dreaming and would wake up in an hour feeling silly.

  Adam stopped at the door and looked at her. Sarah held his gaze, not worrying about the consequences of eye contact. He blinked, and a brief flash of worry appeared before his confident smile and bright eyes returned. “I want to find them,” he said at last.