“Haven’t seen him!” I shouted as Dawn delivered another set of orders. I prayed she hadn’t heard their question.
“Who, Ian?”
Damn it, she heard.
The two nodded their heads in unison, looking like bobble heads—only a lot scarier. I tried to get Dawn’s attention by spilling water across the bar, but it didn’t work. It just got me wet—and more pissed.
“Here’s a towel,” she said, tossing one at me. Then she turned to the gruesome twosome. “He’s on the upstairs level. Why?” she asked, completely unaware of their infatuation.
“Oh, just wondering,” they said, their voices in unison.
Truly weird.
Their smiles grew darker as they stood to leave, and something about their facial expressions got the better of me.
“Hey, ladies! Why don’t you stay here? Let the other girls have a shot at him.” I tried to be persuasive, without much luck.
“Why would—” started Gerti.
“—we do that?” finished Gabby.
Something inside me snapped. “Because you two look at him like he’s a piece of meat!” I snapped.
All of a sudden there was no music, no people—only the twins and me. Their eyes almost popped out of their sockets as they both stood up, looking like an eerie set of reflections.
“Excuse us?” they said, slipping freakishly into speaking in twin pleural.
In that split second everything came back at me: noise, people—everything at once. The twins were in my face before I knew it. The world was suddenly loud and overwhelming, pressing down around me. Their eyes were completely black, and I swear I could smell decay coming off of them like the heavy scent of a bad perfume.
I stood my ground, not giving them an inch as I raised my hands, fully intending to push them back. But before I could follow through I was flying sideways with Geoffrey’s arms locked around me. Pepper was talking to the twins, trying to put out the fire I’d started.
“Why’d you do that?” I snarled as he restrained me—which only intensified my anger.
Megan, you must be careful of who and what you say. They don’t know you understand what they are, he said through the link, which was alive with my own adrenaline.
His words pissed me off even more. I could take care of myself and didn’t need him jumping in. I felt my defenses go up. I hadn’t done anything wrong.
“I didn’t do or say anything to them that I wouldn’t say or do to anyone else that acted the way they do, all the time!” I snapped back.
Megan, you’re overreacting.
“You stay out of this and get out of my head!” I glared back, the music so loud now my ears rang. There were too many people, too much all at once. Everyone was staring, their eyes boring into me. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move fast enough out of the club.
“Megan, stop!” he called out.
Despite the noise I heard both Pepper and Ash. “Let her go, Geoffrey, she needs space.”
I hit the side door running. The dark alley surrounded me but I didn’t care. The sidewalk was busy, even as late as it was. I shoved my way through the crowds crossing the streets, getting jostled left and right. People barked at me as I began to run away, to get as far from the club as possible.
In my rush I hadn’t grabbed my jacket or pack, but I didn’t care. I didn’t feel the cold night air, I didn’t feel my feet freezing, sloshing through the dirty snow. All I had was my apron and what few tips I’d made. No ID, no bus pass, no house key. I didn’t want to think about it.
I turned corner after corner. All the faces passing me shouted without words, their looks enough to say volumes: “Crazy girl!” or “Weirdo!” I stopped looking at them. I kept my head down, stumbling along.
“Excuse me,” I’d say to the unknown person; “Sorry,” I’d offer to the guy I almost knocked down.
HONK! Some driver laid on the horn, and only then did I realize I’d stepped off the corner into oncoming traffic. “Watch where you’re going, idiot!” the driver screamed from his open window. People at the crosswalk gave me a wide berth, not wanting to stand too close to the crazy lady.
It was then I realized where I was. I didn’t know my feet had carried me all the way downhill to Westlake Center. Right above me the huge Macy’s Christmas star shone brightly. Across the way, a Christmas tree sparkled and twinkled in the hustle and bustle. The horse-drawn carriages clopped their way down their route. I could smell the huge pine tree and hot cocoa and coffee from the nearby Starbucks.
I made my way across the plaza, staying at the outside edge of the crowd. Wet snow had begun falling, the flakes swirling around the lamp posts. I headed down the street, walking from memory, knowing exactly where I’d come out.
The market was closed up for the night, and the back stairs were deserted, echoing my footsteps. All that remained of my anger and frustration was the lingering embarrassment over how I’d acted, how I must have looked to everyone there, to Dawn, to Ashleigh, but most of all… to him.
How could I have been so stupid? A voice inside replied, It wasn’t me. If he hadn’t butted in—but I was lying to myself. He was right. I had overreacted, and there was nothing I could do now about that. I grabbed the frozen metal railing, trying not to trip going down the slick, icy stairs. There were no cars, no buses, and no people; just the falling snow and my feet shuffling through the slush.
All I felt was cold. Farther and farther down I went, down the waterfront. The waters of the Puget Sound were black and silent. How was I going to get home? I’d used up my anger and the adrenaline that came with it, my legs felt like lead weights. My pants were soaked through, dragging me down even further. I realized I was alone, utterly alone. The darkness was no longer comforting, it was frightening.
I could hear snowplows on the viaduct above, but not much more. I hadn’t felt him through the link since I ran out, nor had I tried to reach him. I was so embarrassed about the way I’d acted. I should have listened to him. I suddenly realized just how close I’d come to being a midnight appetizer for the twins.
Slowly I made my way to the piers; the snow was swirling around the pilings, small drifts already forming along the edges. I thought about the last time I was here—in fact, at this very bench. If I looked up I could still picture Geoffrey on top of the piling, sitting so casually. Then I remembered the quick burst of speed he used to scale the stairs, and then the market rooftop. That had been our second date, when I’d asked him what was so good about being what he was.
We had been heading toward the waterfront; I could see the memory clearly, playing out in front of my eyes. The night had been overcast, with no stars to pierce the heavens. He parked and cut the engine. We looked out on Puget Sound. The stillness of the night was familiar. Lights danced across the water like beacons in the darkness.
“Can I ask you a question?” I had said, taking his hand as we walked along the darkened wharf.
“You can ask me anything,” he had said with a grin. “What are you curious about?”
“What’s it like being a vampire? What are your favorite parts?” Even in memory, it seemed that my voice was naively sweet. We had reached a railing between two buildings, where the shadows danced from the streetlight. The cold air blew off the Sound, my hair lifted in different directions. He turned his back to the water and leapt up to the railing in one easy movement. Balancing on the balls of his feet, he squatted down and looked out into the night as I watched safely from the ground.
“To answer your first question, what’s it like being a vampire? It’s not like Hollywood portrays us—all that darkness, romance, and magic that you see in the
movies.” His voice had been heavy and he was very still, like a statue perched above me, as he thought about it. “It is long—very long; never-ending. You see time going by, the changes in other people and their lives—yet we remain the sam
e. Time has no real effect or meaning for us.”
“Okay, mister dark-and-gloomy—find a good thing, some bright side,” I had said, trying to coax a smile.
He stepped down gracefully as his face softened, becoming less sculpture and more human. “A good thing? Hmm… Well, there’s always the speed.” His cocky grin widened, but then I blinked and missed it. I turned to see him perched casually atop the farthest piling on the pier. The next moment he swept me up and rolled me onto his back as he flew up the stairs into the darkened market. With one quick, powerful burst he leapt up onto the roof, and my heart was racing, pounding against my chest in sheer exhilaration.
The memory warmed my heart, but the rest of me was frozen. My teeth were beginning to chatter as I made my way across the train tracks. Tremors rolled through me from head to toe. One foot in front of the other, I chanted to myself. I’d gotten myself in this mess, I’d get myself out.
Stair after stair I climbed, trying to keep moving forward. I knew once I got to the market I’d find a phone. The stairs were slick, like slabs of ice. I grabbed the handrail and used both arms, aching from the cold, to pull myself up. I was almost to the top when the ice and snow got to me.
I could see the top landing and tried to make my feet move faster. The metal stairs were unforgiving on my wrist and knees as I crashed down. The pain radiated up my elbow, burning. At least the heat reminded me to keep going, though the reason why I needed to keep moving eluded me. My brain was foggy. Just a quick stop, I thought, to sit and try to catch my breath. I found a doorway out of the breeze with a faint light seeping out from under the door. Who was here at this hour?
I slid down, as close to the door as I could get, just for a moment, I was so tired… but something told me to keep moving. I used the doorknob for leverage and got up. The cold air was funneling through the market and down the stairwell, whipping my hair about my face, stinging the exposed skin on my arms. Finally, I reached the last step. I could see the traffic lights and empty intersections up ahead.
The snow was falling heavily now, and as I moved away from the shelter of the market walls, the temperature plummeted, making the frozen market seem much warmer. I trudged up to the first intersection, then the next. Not a soul in sight. No cars, no police, no snowplows. Ashleigh would be worried sick by now; I’d run off before when I was younger.
The memory took me back to yet another time, as I continued to push against the falling snow. It had been one of those nights when I tried to stand up to the step-jerk. I must have been around thirteen or so, just hormonal enough to push his buttons. He’d pushed mom one too many times, yelled once too often. I had snapped, and pushed back. I remembered the shocked look on his face and then the realization of what I had just done. There wasn’t a niche big enough to hide in that night. Mom kept hollering for me to get out while she tried to block his way. In the end she didn’t need to try very hard. As drunk as he’d been, his own feet did the trick. He fell head-first off the porch, knocking himself out cold.
But I wasn’t home to see it happen. My anger had boiled over, much like tonight, and I needed freedom; to run away from anyone or anything. I’d found the hollowed-out tunnel that night, remembering where it was, and the forest surrounded me in silence and darkness. Never once did I feel scared or frightened. Looking back now, I knew why. Somehow, I knew he was out there, somewhere nearby. I remembered clearly feeling his presence…
The sound of crunching snow underneath tires brought me back to my present predicament. I had stopped underneath the huge Macy’s Christmas star. I waited out of habit for the light to change to “Walk,” even though there was no traffic except one old VW bus. The colors were faded, yet the dark army green and yellow peace symbols were easy to see. The engine sounded like it was running on its last leg. It had stopped in the middle of the intersection, and the driver was clearly trying to roll down a manual window. He quickly gave up and got out.
“Megan?” The familiar voice carried over the stuttering engine. It was Chase.
“Yeah?”
“What are you doing out here?” He reached inside the van and handed me a jacket.
“Long story,” I sighed as I slid my arms through the warm sleeves. Chase put his arm around my shoulders and led me over to the passenger side. He opened the door and helped me inside. The interior smelled of clove cigarettes and burnt coffee; text books, binders, and papers were scattered throughout. I watched him scurry around the front of the van and climb into the driver’s seat again.
“Are you all right?” he asked. The engine sputtered as he shifted gears.
“Yeah, just cold.” I leaned against the window. He pushed the heat lever to max as he slowly navigated up through the hills.
“What happened to you?”
“I went for a walk.” What else could I say? Oh, I got pissed at two vampires at work, and then my boyfriend, who’s a vampire too, got in the middle. Yeah, that would be a good conversation starter.
“A walk?”He sounded skeptical, so I kept staring out the window and said nothing. Still, the silence between us was easy, though not as awkward as I thought it would’ve been.
“Okay, a walk. Word of advice—next time, grab a jacket.” He smiled and handed me what was left of his coffee. Even though it was lukewarm, the coffee felt boiling hot going down my throat.
The gears protested as he crossed street after street, taking a zigzag pattern to get up the slippery hill. A Celtic cross and Star of David charm dangled off a leather strap hanging from his rearview mirror. Interesting combo. Chase had never seemed religious.
“What brings you out on such a lovely night?” My teeth chattered a bit. I wrapped my knees up, trying to keep warm.
“Me and the guys had a study group, and we spaced on the time. We came out to this mess,” he said, gesturing at the slushy white mounds growing on the streets. I glanced at the textbooks. Early Celtic Studies and The Study of Myth vs. Factual Evidence were two I could make out. A few others seemed to be much older, as they had heavy leather bindings.
I stretched my legs out; and my toes and fingers finally felt sensations. “What exactly are you studying, Chase?”
“Ah.” My question seemed to fluster him. “European History and Art History.” His face flushed red as we passed a de-icer truck.
“Oh,” was all I could manage. Art history had always interested me. But college was out of the question. Mom had never saved for it, and now… well, I was lucky to be able to pay the bills I had. I reached for one of the heavier books as it slid across the back seat. “What’s this?” I ran my fingers over the Celtic symbols that were raised on the leather cover.
“Uh, that’s just a research book,” he said, grabbing the book from my hands and flinging it back into a box on the rear seat.
That’s odd. It was like he didn’t want me to see it. “Sorry,” I stuttered.
“Oh, don’t be. It’s just old and boring.”
And yet, he had seemed anxious to get it out of my hands. “Where did you guys meet at?” I asked as we passed the last traffic light at the top of our hill.
“Down near the market. One of the guys has a loft behind one of the stores.”
I thought about the light I’d seen behind the locked doors and wondered. “Is his loft near the back stairwell?”
“Yeah, how’d ya know?” He sounded nervous.
“Just a lucky a guess. I went up the stairs from the piers and saw a light on,” I said, turning to look at his face.
His eyes were wide with surprise, then he quickly recovered. “What were you doing all the way down there, at this hour? In the snow?
“I took a walk… remember?” I shrugged.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” he asked through tight lips. His changed tone was obvious. I knew that Geoffrey didn’t like him much, but Chase’s question seemed to suggest another side of him—one that Geoffrey ha
d mentioned, yet I’d never picked up on.
I looked at my watch. It was three-thirty in the morning “At the moment, he’s probably locking up the club with Ashleigh.”
“You shouldn’t be out alone,” he stuttered. “You know, on a night like this.” He pointed to the thinning flakes of snow.
His words seemed to have a double meaning, but my brain was too exhausted to make sense of them. I was only slightly thawed out as he pulled into the back alley of the apartment building. As we stepped off the elevator, I handed him his jacket and reached into my jeans for my keys. Keys. “Oh crap!”
“What?” he asked.
“I left my keys at the club!” I wailed. Not to mention my cell phone, backpack, jacket, and apparently, my brain. I could almost hear my bed calling my name, I was so close. “Now what?”
“Oh. Just use mine,” he offered, pulling out his key ring.
“Yours? How are your keys going to work in my door?” I leaned against the wall, my legs feeling like dead weight.
He selected a key and put in the lock. Click. The door swung open.
“You’ve got a key… to my door?”
“Yeah. You gave me one in case you ever got locked out, remember?” His eyes locked onto mine for a split second, and I could’ve sworn they flashed green. He blinked, and it was gone.
That’s it, I’ve officially lost it. “I did?”
He nodded, shrugging his shoulders.
“Uh, okay. If you say so. But I don’t remember that.” I flipped on the light as he closed the door behind us. I flopped on the couch, too tired to take the last few steps to my room to crash. From the kitchen I heard cupboards and drawers opening, the refrigerator closing, the microwave humming, and then the buzzer going off. I opened my eyes to see him bringing me what smelled like a mug of hot chocolate.
I just looked at him, confusion clearly on my face. “How’d you know
where… ?” I trailed off.
“Your kitchen is set up the same as mine,” he said. His smile was genuinely sweet.
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