by Beth Alvarez
So much for allies.
* * *
Thaddeus did not return to his office.
Josh kicked himself all afternoon. He’d been too pushy and aggressive much too soon. The Keeper was right; who was he to make demands? A nobody 23-year-old new vampire, who couldn’t even figure out how he was supposed to shave without a reflection.
He kept working, not knowing what to do, until the sun set and the rest of the office workers started packing up and heading for home. Some of them gave him curious glances as they passed Thaddeus’s private office where he’d hidden all day, sorting and re-labeling files. He caught the word ’intern’ in their quiet conversations more than once and he didn’t know whether to laugh or be offended.
Vampire interns. Who would have thought?
Shaking his head, Josh retrieved his suit jacket and headed out into the dusk, figuring he’d wait for the old man by the car.
Except the black sedan wasn’t in the parking lot.
His assigned mentor had left him.
Biting back complaints and reminding himself he only had himself to blame, Josh stuffed his hands in his pockets and started the hour-plus trek back to the big Victorian house.
Running late, he texted to Charlotte a quarter of the way into the trip. Will text when I’m on my way.
Not that he knew how he was supposed to get there without a car. As far as it was back to Thaddeus’s house, at least he could make it on foot. Charlotte’s parents lived on the other side of the city, and he had precious few hours before the sun rose. He’d just have to hope he could steal the keys when Thaddeus wasn’t looking.
If only he’d been turned into something with super powers. Being a vampire didn’t seem to offer many benefits, actually; with all the books and movies, he’d expected something more. But all he seemed to have was immortality, according to Thaddeus. No enhanced strength. No super speed. No ability to leap to rooftops. In fact, the climb onto Charlotte’s roof had been even harder than he remembered, though Josh chalked that up to the fact he’d made the climb in a suit.
When he finally reached the place he was supposed to call home, the black sedan was in the driveway and the light in the front office was on.
Josh gulped back bitterness, hiking up the steps and checking the door. It was unlocked and creaked open with a gentle nudge. So he hadn’t behaved badly enough to warrant being locked out. At least there was that.
He stopped inside the hallway, eyeing the office door a few paces away. Whether or not the place was a funeral home, it was quiet enough to host the dead. Although in some ways, Josh supposed it did.
Opting for cold silence, he shut the front door and trudged up the stairs.
Though the Keepers and their nameless organization had provided him with clothing, they hadn’t seen fit to give him anything other than formal business attire. The closet was hung with a week’s supply of white dress shirts and undershirts to match, black slacks, black silk neck ties, and black suit jackets. The only variation was a pair of suspenders, belts in two different styles hung on the back of the door, and suit jackets providing the choice of single- or double-breasted.
“First thing on the shopping list is some jeans,” Josh grumbled, smoothing a hand through his hair. He took a clean white shirt before shutting the closet door. There was a mirror on the other side, and like he did every time he saw it, he jumped. Either the place had come pre-furnished, or that was some sort of cruel joke. As soon as he had a minute to spare, that mirror would go.
He stripped his jacket and tie, changing into the freshly-pressed white shirt and tossing the old one onto his bed. He would have preferred something casual, but if he had to wear something formal, he didn’t want it to come with a full day’s worth of archive dust and questionably rust-colored dirt. Changing into something fresh at least showed he was putting in effort.
Bounding back down the stairs, Josh slipped into the kitchen for a drink—just water, as he’d found it was as refreshing as when he’d been alive—and paused just inside the door.
On the kitchen table, a tidy stack of hundred dollar bills waited beside a small black card and a note weighted down by the sedan’s keys.
Creeping forward, he leaned over the table to read the note without touching anything.
Mr. Rook,
One month’s cash advance, which shall be docked from your next paycheck.
The car is needed back by 5:30.
If you are stopped or disrupted by officials, call the number on the card.
-T.
Josh picked up the card first. He’d expected it to belong to Thaddeus, but it bore a name he didn’t recognize and a number he hoped he’d never have to call. He slipped it into his pocket, then took the money in one hand and the keys in the other.
He didn’t have a wallet yet, but most of the cash wouldn’t be necessary until tomorrow. He made a second trip to his room to leave the majority of it on the bedside table, tucking just a few bills into his pocket with the card. Then he crept back downstairs, jingling the car keys in his hand.
He almost walked past the office door, stopping and backing up a step before he’d gone too far. He knocked.
No answer came.
“Thaddeus?” Josh called through the door, listening close but unable to discern any sign the old man was listening. Checking his phone for the time, he decided not to dally.
He cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he offered in a more subdued voice, then hurried out to the car.
Traffic was light and it wasn’t long before Josh pulled up in front of Charlotte’s house. She stood by the window of her upstairs bedroom and motioned frantically when he stepped out of the car, jerking her window open and leaning out. “Wait there.”
Josh frowned, casting a glance toward the front door. He’d planned on knocking. In retrospect, he realized how bad of an idea that was. She still lived with her parents.
A minute later, she tip-toed out from behind the house, evidently having slipped out the back door. She pressed a finger to her lips, darting across the lawn on the balls of her feet so her heels wouldn’t sink in the grass.
He didn’t need a heartbeat to feel a swell of admiration when he saw her, her pretty auburn hair pulled up into a bun, save for a few curls that tumbled in front of her ears. She’d put on the knee-length blue dress he’d always liked, a gauzy thing that looked ruffled to him but she’d always sworn was ruched. Whatever that meant.
A grin split his features as he took her in, and he held out his hand.
Charlotte ducked her head, a faint blush coloring her cheeks in the moonlight as she took it. “I thought I’d never wear this again. I thought it would hurt too much.”
“You didn’t have to dress up. I mean, I’m glad you did. I don’t feel so over-dressed now, but you didn’t have to.” He opened the car door and settled her inside, one of the gentlemanly gestures his mother had hammered into him that Charlotte always said was romantic.
“So where are we going?” she asked when he climbed behind the wheel.
Josh cast her a sidewise smirk. “You’ll see.”
He had two nights. Two chances to put together perfect dates. Yet, despite what Charlotte said about the car door thing, he’d never had a romantic bone in his body. A hundred years might not be enough time to do what he had to.
SIX
* * *
CHARLOTTE COULDN’T REMEMBER more ups and downs in a single week, nor any so dramatic. As soon as she sat down in the glossy new luxury vehicle, she regretted having agreed to this.
She should have made him leave. No matter how her heart leaped at knowing Josh was alive—in a manner of speaking—and no matter how good it had felt to have him back in her arms, she couldn’t help the small seeds of resentment that sprouted thorny vines and tangled her insides.
Her clammy fingers stuck to the polyurethane exterior of her designer knockoff clutch. That death grip was all that kept her hands from shaking.
“You okay?” Josh r
eached across to lay a hand on her thigh, rubbing gently. It was simple, affectionate, reassuring, and only made things worse.
“I didn’t really want a vampire for a boyfriend.” The words escaped before she could stop them and heat crept into her cheeks. She turned away. “I was just kidding.”
He chuckled, patting her thigh. “I never thought you were serious. I was just trying to find a way to break the ice. I realize this is difficult.”
Difficult didn’t cover half of it.
They’d stayed up talking until the small hours of the morning, only stopping when he insisted he had to leave or he wouldn’t make it home before sunrise. He’d filled her in on everything that had happened after the accident that—as far as anyone else knew—had resulted in his death.
The rational side of her knew she wasn’t coping with this. She could deal with that later, when she had time to herself and nobody expected her to be strong. For now, she’d accepted it blindly and refused to think about it any further, knowing that trying to make heads or tails of the situation would probably lead to hysteria.
Hysteria wouldn’t help anything. It wouldn’t change that he was back from the dead, that he was a creature that shouldn’t exist, or that she was stupid enough to climb into a car with him without letting anyone know where she was going.
Charlotte closed her eyes, trying to shut out those thoughts. More than anything, she needed the logical part of her to shut up. There was nothing logical about anything that had just happened, and though her mind was rational, it wasn’t necessarily calm. It had been screaming since she’d seen him outside the coffee shop, and unless she forcibly stifled it, it wasn’t about to pipe down.
“So how have you been?” It was a feeble, awkward attempt to start conversation, but at least he tried.
Shrugging, Charlotte eyed his hand on her thigh. “I missed work. Went home early, the other day. That’s not like me.” It was the best explanation she could give.
From the way Josh withdrew his hand, replacing it on the steering wheel, it was adequate enough. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s been hard for all of us, Josh,” she murmured. “My parents don’t know what to do to help. I’ve kind of been avoiding them. Your mom’s done nothing but cook, like she always does when she’s upset. But nobody wants to eat. Your dad isn’t really talking to anyone. And Julian...”
Josh grimaced at mention of his younger brother.
“Yeah.” She turned back to the window. “It’s kinda like that.”
She couldn’t count the number of times she’d comforted Josh while he beat himself up over his younger brother’s struggles. He’d always blamed himself, claiming everything would have been better if he’d managed to be a better role model. Charlotte thought it ridiculous. Julian’s problems were Julian’s problems, and Josh had done everything in his power to keep his wayward brother on an even keel.
“How is he?” Josh asked after a moment, his voice choked.
“Well, he’s been drinking, but I guess we all saw that coming.”
Josh grunted in displeasure, his hands tightening on the wheel.
She sighed. “Your parents are doing everything they can, Josh. What can you do? You weren’t even supposed to come see me.” That knowledge stung more than anything else, but she couldn’t decide if it hurt because she saw the wisdom in loved ones being left in the dark, or because he’d loved her so much he broke the very first rule he was given.
She didn’t hold any illusions over how this would end. He’d made it clear enough. A few more nights to live his life, then his newfound unlife would tear them apart.
Once again, she regretted climbing into the car.
Josh cleared his throat, changing the subject. “Have you eaten?”
“No. Have you?” She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth.
He laughed, finding humor in the question she certainly didn’t. “I’m good,” he replied, flashing her a sidewise grin.
Her eyes locked onto his fangs. “You sure about that?”
“I’m fine. Promise. Had my breakfast out of a bottle Thaddeus keeps in the fridge. He says I won’t need to eat more than once a week or so.” The corner of his mouth twitched and she knew he didn’t believe it, which wasn’t exactly comforting.
Charlotte bit her lip, looking out the passenger window as the city lights went by.
His cheer faded. “He also said that Keepers don’t feed directly from people. Our food supply comes from donors. Nobody gets hurt.”
“And what about the vampires you’re supposed to take care of? What do they eat?”
“I don’t know,” he replied honestly. “I just want you to know I’m not going to be like them. I’m not dangerous, Charlie. I’m still me. A... well, maybe not a good person, but a moderately okay kind of person.”
She snorted a laugh in spite of herself.
Josh spun the wheel, squeezing the sedan into a tight parking space. “Ta-da. We’re here.” He slipped out of the car before she could respond, circling around to open her door for her and offer his hand.
Accepting the help up, Charlotte leaned sideways to look past him, a flutter of delight stirring in her chest at sight of her favorite restaurant. “But you hate sushi!”
“Doesn’t matter what I like,” he chuckled, settling her hand on the crook of his elbow and hitting the remote to lock the car. “Tonight’s about you, and I want to do anything in my power to make sure I get to see you smile again.”
Despite the way that warmed her heart, she didn’t feel much like smiling. She forced one anyway, knowing it didn’t reach her eyes, letting him lead her to the restaurant without another word.
“You can get anything you want,” Josh said as they settled at a table.
Charlotte managed to murmur her appreciation, but there was an ache growing in her middle that she feared would make it hard to eat.
Was this going to be their last meal together? Technically, she supposed they’d already shared that, laughing and snacking on fries out of the same container the night before he’d died. This time, he just ordered a glass of water and sat, watching her eat and making small talk about the house he was staying in and what his office building looked like.
She ate as much as she could with her failing appetite, replying when she could find words, staying away from the painful subjects that hovered in her thoughts.
If she showed up at his doorstep, would she be turned away? How was she supposed to go on living, knowing the other half of her heart was right there in the same city yet so far out of reach?
“I hope you’re saving room for dessert,” Josh teased, propping his elbow on the table and resting his cheek against his fist.
Charlotte ducked her eyes, staring at the California roll she’d spent the last minute pushing back and forth on her plate. “I’m sorry, I just-”
“I’m serious,” he interrupted, leaning closer. “We’re going for dessert next. Maybe you’ll like it better. Are you finished?”
She nodded, folding her napkin and tucking it underneath the edge of her plate.
Flagging down their server, he fished money out of his pocket while waiting for the check.
Charlotte raised a brow. “What’s with the cash?” Few people carried it anymore—she couldn’t recall ever seeing Josh use cash. Especially not such large bills.
“Red tape,” he grumbled, tucking a bill into the slim black folder with the check. “Still waiting for my new debit card.”
“What happened to your old one?”
Josh hesitated. “I guess my parents have it. They can keep it. There wasn’t a lot of money in that account, anyway.”
And it would be too difficult to cover his tracks if he tried to retrieve it now, she assumed.
“Come on. Let’s go get some dessert.” He stood and held out his hand, inviting her to rise.
She gave the sushi on her plate one last look before abandoning her seat. Doubt bubbled inside her as she laced her fingers with h
is, letting him draw her out from behind the table. “Aren’t you going to wait for your change?”
“Nah. The organization pays most expenses. Our pay is for incidentals and if we elect to live outside organization-sponsored residences.” He pulled her hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before leading her back out to the car.
Her footsteps faltered. She could stop him now and ask him to let her go home. She could lock her doors and close her curtains, refuse to answer his texts and calls and wait for him to disappear. There was only one day left to struggle through. Then he’d be gone, his absence tearing her apart once more.
As if sensing her thoughts, Josh stopped beside the passenger side of the car, pulling her into his arms instead of getting the door.
“I’m not letting you go,” he murmured against her temple, nuzzling her hair. “Just trust me, all right? I’m gonna figure this out.”
Reflexively wrapping her arms around him, Charlotte buried her face in his chest. The thousand tangled thoughts in her head stilled, his words a balm to her hurting soul. “I can’t lose you again,” she whispered.
He squeezed her shoulders. “You won’t.”
Nodding, she stepped back so he could open the door, climbing into the passenger seat when he motioned her in. She slid a finger between her heel and shoe, wiggling her toes and silently regretting her choice to wear heels.
The car stopped unexpectedly outside a Mexican popsicle shop. Charlotte sat up, blinking out the window. “Hey!”
Josh grinned. “First date. Remember?”
She laughed aloud. “I’d never forget. It’s so late, I thought they’d be closed by now.”
“Normally, they would be. Come on.” He offered his arm again to help her out of the car, wrapping his arm around her waist to lead her to the door. “Do you remember what flavor you got?”
“No, but I remember you didn’t realize yours had strawberries in it.” She nudged his ribs with a giggle. “Your face was all broken out for days.”