by Martha Woods
He’s a… what? A vampire? She reminded herself. She glanced back to where his shadow could be, barely believing it. It could be a trick of light, mirrors placed somewhere within the studio. Or, he could be telling the truth. She didn’t particularly want to stay to find out.
“While I demand that you stay here, I promises that I will treat you as a guest until you decide to cross me. Consider yourself warned, if you do in fact work for the Calder.”
She considered it. She normally camped just outside the city. She had an old hatchback that carried the teardrop trailer she’d purchased a few years ago. But she hadn’t had a proper shower in weeks, and she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d slept in a real bed.
“Why do you want me to stay?” she asked.
“You fascinate me,” he said, and took a step closer to her. His eyes devoured her. His thoughts did too. She felt drawn to him in a strangely kinetic way. And he felt it too, even if he thought that she was the enemy. His thoughts tickled her skin each time he lost track of his accusations.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, Dracula,” she said, jabbing her pointer finger into his chest to push him back. “I need a place to stay, and you kidnapped me. So, I’m going to stay the night. I’m going to start by taking a bath.” She pointed to the claw foot tub. “And you are either going to order or cook dinner. Then…we can get to know each other a little better.”
He grinned, and she thought her chest might crack from the pressure of her heart’s increasing rhythm. Damn him for being so beautiful.
* * *
She lingered in the bath longer than she intended, but the salts she’d found sitting on the edge of the tub created a tingling on her skin that felt glorious, and being so immersed in hot water tempted the soul to drown. But when her stomach growled loudly, she finally relented and stepped out of the tub. She dressed again, leaving the pashmina draped over the screen, and stepped out barefoot in her jeans and tank top.
She had a moment to peer at the door longingly again. What had happened to her booth? Had her trailer been towed yet? He appeared by her side immediately and offered her a glass of red wine.
“Thank you,” she said, and made her way to the table. He’d cooked for her while she bathed. He’d barely made a noise in the kitchen as he did so, but she smelled the bacon and her stomach rumbled in response. She sat down in front of a beautiful display of eggs benedict, asparagus, and fresh fruit.
“Do you eat human food?” she asked, picking up a fork.
“I do not,” he replied, watching her intently as she took her first bite. She refrained from moaning in pleasure. The thick cut bacon was sweet and peppery all at once. She did not want to offer him the satisfaction. “It has no taste for me.”
“And yet you cook?” she said, taking another large bite. She hadn’t eaten all day.
“I do. I like finding ways to occupy my time.” He moved to sit down next to her.
She nodded and took a sip of her wine.
“You still have not told me your name,” he reminded her.
She chewed on her lip. It might have been the wine. Or it could have been the long soak in the bath salts that addled her brain, but she found herself speaking. “Tessa Burch.”
She could have sworn she saw him mouth her name, his lips parting for a split second.
“Where, may I ask, are you from?” he asked. Even sitting next to her, his body was aimed toward her as if he could not pull away. His knee touched the outside of her thigh and sent a different tingling sensation over her skin.
“California originally,” she said. “But I left when I was sixteen. Been traveling ever since.”
“Sixteen? That is young these days. How old are you now?”
“Twenty-five,” she said, observing his reaction in her peripheral vision. But he did not react, he just continued to stare at her intently.
“When did your powers manifest?” he asked. She noticed how still his hands were, resting in his lap. He did not fidget. He was like a statue, a very chiseled, beautiful statue.
“As a girl. I didn’t know what was happening,” she explained, weighing how much she wanted to share. “I told my parents and they had me committed.”
He frowned sympathetically. She hated sympathy. It had been written across her parents faces every time they visited her. It had been in the eyes of the nurses that escorted her to therapy.
“How old are you?” she countered, shifting the focus away from her. She was done talking about herself.
“Almost two hundred,” he said. Tessa wasn’t prepared for the thoughts that came spilling from his mind. Images of a world she didn’t recognize assaulted her. Women wore long dresses, horse drawn carts fought for space on the road amongst the bulky cars.
She gave a low whistle. What the hell was that?
“And what happened after you were committed?” he asked, returning the focus to her.
She shifted uncomfortably. “My parents were in a car accident somewhere out of state. I became a ward of the state. I knew that I was fucked if I didn’t get my shit together so I pretended to get better. They released me into the foster system. I ran away at sixteen,” she said, her words matter of fact so that he couldn’t hear the bitter loneliness that filled her. “And that wraps up my tragic little story.”
He caught her hand. Without adrenaline coursing through her, she noticed that his hands felt as if they were formed from marble, very cold marble. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it softly, not on the top of her hand but on her palm. She felt the slightest prick of pain, but it vanished before she could think more of it.
“I’m very sorry,” he said.
Pity she could not handle, but seduction was familiar territory. He let go of her hand. She cleared her throat, attempting to regain control of her rapid heart. He smiled, smug as ever.
“Are you finished?” he asked.
She nodded and finished the last of her wine. “It was delicious, thank you,” she said, and attempted to take her plate to the kitchen. He put a hand out to stop her.
“It’s fine,” he said. “Leave it. Would you like more wine?”
She accepted a second glass and without asking permission, made her way to the couch. She could throw the glass and run to the door. But he’d been faster last time.
“How does one become a vampire?” she asked, tucking herself into the corner of the sectional. He sat on the opposite end of the couch, but his body still pointed toward her like he was a compass and she was due north.
He cocked his head in amusement. Beneath the surface, his thoughts bled pain and regret. His feelings were becoming more distinct to her, his mind unravelling for her more and more with each passing moment. Normally that would take months. And she did not plan on knowing this man, this vampire, for months, a fact she strangely regretted. This would be one hell of a night, and then she would be gone. That was what she did. That was who she was. It was too hard to know everything. Too painful.
“I met a woman. I was easily seduced. She kept me in her bed as a human for several months. She grew attached to me, like a pet. There were others. When she grew tired of them, she killed them. Knowing this would be my own fate, I fashioned a rudimentary stake with plans to kill her in her sleep. She grew tired of me more quickly than I anticipated and bit me after a hunt that proved unsatisfactory. I killed her before she could kill me, but it was too late,” he said. His face grew darker for a moment, but then he shook his head and added, “It is a rather painful transformation.”
She could feel in his thoughts, despite his detached presentation of the story, that he had loved this woman.
“Have you turned others?” she asked.
His green eyes flashed tumultuously. “My sister.”
“Veronica?” Tessa guessed.
He gave a curt nod.
“Who is after her?” she asked, sipping at her wine. She was almost finished with her second glass. She felt contentedly warm, and the desire for the creature before grew as
her inhibitions lowered.
His perfect lips pressed together. She’d reached her twenty questions limit. She put her wine glass down and stood up. He watched her warily. She produced a sly smile and snaked her way towards him until she stood above him.
“I won’t tell anyone your secrets if you won’t tell anyone mine,” she said, sincerity sneaking into her words.
She caught glimpses of images, his lips upon hers, his hands ripping away her clothing. Her face warmed and not just from the wine. Her nipples hardened when she caught an image of his mouth upon them, sucking gently. She could no longer tell if what she felt was by her own choice. There was a sudden urge in her to run her fingers through his earth-toned hair.
She stood abruptly, wine sloshing from her glass.
The images stopped hailing her and Kristian had the decency to look ashamed. Well, as ashamed as a vampire could look. Tessa needed to put space between them. He had kidnapped her, for Christs sake. The wetness that she felt, the weakness in her knees, was absurd. Most of all, she hated how readily her body had reacted for him. She moved around the couch.
“I... apologize,” Kristian said, suddenly stiff. “I forget what kind of company I am in. Please, take the bed for tonight.”
* * *
Tessa woke in the night. No thoughts hummed in the air. Kristian was asleep or gone. She gently pushed back the blankets and lowered her feet to the ground. This was her moment if ever there were one. She could be free of him once and for all.
Once she slipped her boots onto her feet, she crept toward the door. The lock would not budge beneath her hands, no matter how she pressed. Frustrated, she ground her teeth and moved on to a nearby window. Pushing back the heavy curtain, Tessa could see the shingle covered roof outside. They were still somewhere in the city, she decided as she looked out at a familiar skyline.
She reached over her head, turning the lock. It clicked into place, echoing softly in the studio. She cringed, waiting for Kristian to wake. When no angry vampire came storming in her direction, she turned back to the window. With some effort, it slid up and she was greeted by a breeze.
Freedom was only a step away.
She hoisted herself out the window with minimal effort. Peering over the edge of the roof, she found that it was only a story’s drop to the ground. Bile rose in the back of her throat. She could jump, right? Tessa glanced back through the window and a tinge of regret sparked through her.
She shook her head.
What am I thinking? She cringed. She wouldn’t be a part of whatever messed up plot he was stuck in. No. Thank. You.
She jumped. She’d done it before, sneaking out of her foster parent’s home. It wasn’t like riding a bicycle. Tessa landed hard on her feet and tumbled forward into an awkward roll. Pain jolted up her spine. Her ankle throbbed. She tried to put her weight on it, but it barked in protest.
* * *
Tessa made her way through the city streets, hobbling on her swollen ankle. It had been worth it, she thought. The pain was a low price to pay for freedom. She stopped at the nearest glowing gas station and begged to use their phone. The man behind the counter couldn’t comprehend why she didn’t have her own cell phone. Tessa cursed the day they did away with payphones.
Still, after much bickering, the man gave in, dialed the number for a cab service, and handed her the phone. The cabbie spoke with a voice that said she’d probably had a cigarette hanging between her lips at that moment. She did not disappoint when she arrived outside the gas station, the cigarette bobbing as she called out Tessa’s name.
It was a quiet ride over, but Tessa was grateful for the bills that Kristian had laid on her table before he kidnapped her. Oh, her table. She thought of the wrecked booth that had been left behind. It didn’t mean as much as her car, as her trailer. Even as she regretted leaving it, she knew that she could find another in a thrift store somewhere else.
Tessa paid the woman with one of Kristian’s crisp bills before the car turned around and left her alone in the dark. Tessa resisted the urge to reach down for the knife in her boot. Her nerves must still be on edge from earlier. It had been a long, confusing day.
The crackle of a fire caught Tessa’s attention. She slowly stepped forward, listening for thoughts in the air. Everything was quiet. As she rounded a large SUV, she could see the dancing light casting shadows around the parking lot. Her stomach plummeted.
Fire licked up the sides of her teardrop trailer. It burst through the tiny windows and climbed toward the roof. A scream of anguish was caught in her throat. She slapped her hand over her mouth. Black circles covered dents in her car as if someone had thrown explosives at it. The windows were completely smashed, glass on the pavement glittering in the firelight. The seats of her car were charred, parts of them still burning.
Hands grabbed her arms. She jerked back into a hard wall. Panic flooded her and she struggled against the immovable grasp until familiar thoughts floated to her. Guilt and sorrow greeted her in Kristian’s voice.
“We should be leaving now,” he said, his hand sliding down her arm to tangle with her fingers.
Numb, Tessa followed him.
Her trailer, her freedom. It was gone. Someone had burnt set it ablaze and left it to burn down to nothing. Anger sparked somewhere inside her. It set fire to the numbness, chasing it into the shadows. Had it been a group of rowdy boys? Or had someone tracked her and destroyed her only means of travel?
* * *
When she woke, she did not open her eyes immediately. Her ear was pressed against his chest, but she realized she could not hear a heartbeat. It sent a shiver down her spine but not of fear. She knew that she lay on a powerful creature, and it made her feel safe after what happened.
When she was a girl, she’d felt a similar sense of power in herself. But the more her powers grew and the more she learned of the thoughts of those around her, the more that power had been warped into something ugly. She’d become jaded, distrustful, and bitter. People, as it turned out, were terrible beings. But she’d stumbled upon an entire world of other powerful entities. Kristian and his sister certainly couldn’t be the only ones. She now saw the potential for more than a cursed life, running away from the iniquities of people. She could seek answers she hadn’t even known to seek.
“You’re awake,” Kristian observed. He fiddled with her hair as he stared at the ceiling. The feeling was bliss.
“What time is it?” she asked. The sun dappled the foot of the bed, and she could hear the faintest sounds of the street below.
“Later than I would like,” he said. “But I wanted to see to it that you to get sleep.”
She didn’t move to get up. She felt strangely content in the arms of a vampire.
Tessa’s brows furrowed. “How did you find me last night?”
A thought mixed with guilt and a dash of righteousness greeted her. Kristian ran a hand through his rumpled hair and Tessa was surprised with how much it made her want to reach up to touch him.
“I may have...tasted a touch of your blood after dinner yesterday.”
“That prick I felt!” Tessa leaned away from Kristian’s body. She had shrugged it off. Nothing more than an angry nerve after the day she’d had.
“I wanted to create a bond in case you tried doing what you did last night. It helped me track you down and I’m grateful that I did considering what happened to your trailer. I’m afraid that was not the act of delinquents.”
Tessa’s indignation flared and died.
Suddenly, the front door of his apartment burst open as a woman entered, her expression intense and urgent. She had long, woody colored hair similar to Kristian, free save for two small braids that pulled the hair back from her long face. Defined cheekbones sat beneath the same emerald-colored eyes framed by long eyelashes and sculpted brows. She wore an immaculate white jacket, leather boots, and dark jeans that accentuated her long legs and slender form. She had a bag swung over her shoulder and her phone in hand.
�
�Kristian, they are coming,” she said. “We need to leave. Now.”
Kristian reluctantly moved out from under Tessa with gentle control, but once free of her, he packed so quickly her human eyes could not follow his progress, only the disappearing of clothes off the floor. They knew that this time was coming, but shut in the solitude of his apartment, they had been able to ignore it.
“When?” he asked, voice tight. Tessa could discern only panic in his thoughts, memories of her trailer the night before.
“Veronica, I presume?” Tessa pulled herself from the bed, stretching aching limbs.
Veronica’s eyes locked onto Tessa for a moment. She had the feeling of being an ant beneath a magnifying glass before Veronica pulled her glare away.
“We have less than a day,” she said. “Ally has been trailing them. She said they boarded a plane from Paris to Asheville. She believes their flight arrives tomorrow.”
Veronica’s eyes flickered to Tessa again, who now felt pulled in whatever direction Kristian might be going. Kristian had already moved on to packing a duffle bag. She made no comment.
“Have you—” he started, but she raised a hand to cut him off.
“I have booked two tickets for New York,” she said. “We can figure out where to go from there.”
Kristian finally paused. He looked at Tessa. Tessa looked back.
“There’s someone after you. They intend to kill you,” Tessa read as his thoughts unraveled for her. “Was that who trashed my trailer?”
“You told her?” Veronica seethed. “What if she was working for the witches? Do you care nothing for your safety? For mine?”
“I do not believe Tessa to be the enemy. Even so, we cannot risk losing such a tool. She can read minds,” Kristian said.
“Hello? I’m sitting right here,” Tessa snapped.
Veronica’s eyes went wide. “We have not seen those powers since…” She stopped herself and gave Kristian a meaningful look. Tessa felt the tiniest flicker of jealousy from Veronica’s thoughts before she said, “Then we must take her with us.”