Standing near the open doorway stood Masters. I blinked. And then I blinked again. That was supposed to be a nightmare. I wasn’t supposed to still be… where was I?
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Wake up, wake up.”
A chuckle tumbled out of him. “Not the first time I’ve been compared to a nightmare.”
I glared at him. “What’s happening? Who are you? Who were those jerks who attacked me in the forest? And where’s…?” I didn’t care where Maxell was. He’d left me in the midst of horror, and it would do me good to remember that. “Where am I? I want to go home.”
He nodded slowly, appraising me. “I understand you want to go home, but I ask you stay the night. My wife is making you dinner. She’s quite excited. We’ll answer your questions. Eat well, sleep well, and tomorrow you can resume your life. If you wish, of course. I can take you home right now if that’s what you please.”
I glared harder at him. “I hear a but. I can go home… but?”
“No but.” He remained where he stood. His expression was hard to read. He didn’t look like he was lying.
But alarm bells were still ringing in my head. I rubbed it. I was in a home with a man I didn’t know. I’d been attacked, sucked blood, and now I could smell oregano in the air. My stomach lurched in starvation. “What time is it?” I asked.
“It’s close to three.”
I gaped at him. “In the afternoon? How did I get here? What is going on?”
He deftly moved from his spot, heading for another doorway opposite the one he’d entered through. “Come nourish yourself.”
Nourish myself? What was I? A monk? I hesitantly followed him, aware that nothing felt real nor right and that he hadn’t answered any of my questions. I entered into a lavish kitchen. It was large and open, with all-white fixtures and cabinets, and in the middle stirring a pot of red sauce was a woman so devastatingly beautiful I could only stare.
Masters chuckled. “You’ve stunned the human, dear.”
She turned around completely, flashing me a brilliant smile. “Hello. My name is Reowna. What is yours?”
My lips moved, my brain was terrified mush. She was scaring the crap out of me at the same time she entranced me. “Emmie.” Her hair was long, wavy, and the color of sun-ripened strawberries. Her skin was porcelain and a touch less pale than her husband’s, but pale nonetheless, and her eyes were brilliant glowing lavender. Her face was perfectly created. Full lips, a straight nose—her figure was the same. Cover model came to mind. And yet, on the edge of all her beauty screamed terror.
“Hello, Emmie. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Please don’t be afraid. I know you’re afraid. I was once afraid. I suppose we all were. Most of us anyway,” she added, her expression souring before reverting back to friendly. “We will not hurt you. Those that have will be handled and they have chosen to leave and will not hurt you again. I made lasagna. Will you have some?”
I blinked.
Masters pulled out a seat at the bar.
Having no idea what else to do, I slid onto the stool.
I watched in silence as Reowna took a steaming glass casserole dish of lasagna out of the oven. She didn’t use potholders; her flesh didn’t seem to burn at all, and yet steam drifted from the dish. She served up a massive portion and then delicately sprinkled parmesan cheese shavings atop the steaming mound.
I picked up my fork and sliced through it, bringing a bite to my lips. The moment the hot food melted on my taste buds, I moaned, shoveling the scalding meal into my mouth morsel after morsel.
Reowna beamed. “Is it good?”
I nodded, mumbling “very good,” with my mouth full.
“I haven’t cooked for anyone in so long, I’m glad to know I still have the ability. Would you like seconds?”
I wasn’t even done with my first, but she seemed so excited and something deep inside—instincts maybe—told me I’d hurt her feelings if I said no. “Please?”
She plopped down an even larger piece onto my plate. I wasn’t sure where I’d put it, but thankfully it was so delicious I was willing to try to get it all down. Plus, I hadn’t eaten homecooked food like this in a long time. It felt warm and comforting, two things I didn’t know I could still feel, two things I didn’t know I still wanted until they were offered to me on a seemingly innocuous plate.
I felt two sets of eyes on me and blinked aware from the food coma I was currently within to find that Masters and Reowna were seated on opposite sides of me, expressions expectant and patient.
“We’re aware you have questions,” Masters spoke up. “We will answer them, but we ask you a favor, Emmie.”
I took the glass of water I hadn’t noticed anyone putting down and took a long swallow. “What?”
“We have tried so incredibly hard to create a family. Which is what this is.” He waved a hand around his home. “A family. Most of our kind do not understand, nor can they understand, how important it is for us to have a family. We ask that you please consider our family when you are reflecting on your time with us.”
I found my eyes stuck on his. They were so sincere and afraid. It was a strange look to be upon his face when I got the startling sensation that I was locking eyes with a dangerous person. “I won’t tell anyone,” I promised. “There isn’t anyone to tell,” I mumbled.
Masters nodded imperceptibly at his wife, whom gently grasped my chin and turned my face to see hers. As she delved into my eyes, she smiled. She softly patted my cheek.
“This one tells nothing but the truth,” she said softly.
Masters let out a small sigh of relief.
Reowna rose fluidly and nodded at me. “I will let my husband do the talking. He’s far more… thorough… than me. Please eat. I’ll be back to take you to your bedroom when you’re ready.”
I stared dumbly after her as she disappeared around a corner before turning back to Masters.
“To answer your questions, you are still in Port Inlet. Three miles north of your home. Though this may sound drab, this was all a misunderstanding. Kline and Warde are the hardest to adjust to this lifestyle and do not take kindly to human interference. Not to say that’s what you were doing, but the moment Maxell showed himself to you, he inadvertently involved you in our lives. Which is dangerous, for both of us.”
I blinked at him.
“They traced Maxell’s scent to your home, and figured they’d lure you out and scare you enough that you’d never talk to Maxell again, thus protecting us. At least that’s what they’ve convinced themselves of. Unfortunately, they hurt you and brought their mess to my doorstep for me to clean up.”
Even in my nightmares, I was someone else’s mistake. “And now we’re having one of the strangest conversations of my life,” I finished for him so he wouldn’t have to. “Are you done now? I’d like to go home.”
His odd colored eyes widened fractionally in surprise. “You don’t have any more questions for me?”
I had a million questions. A million and one. I didn’t know how to ask them. How to take the jumbled thoughts I had and turn them into actual sensible matter.
He leaned back, crossing his ankle over his knee. “We’re vampires, Emmie. Before you have an episode, we do not feed on humans. I haven’t done so in almost one-hundred years, same for my wife. Which is why we’re so nervous about Maxell being around you. Around anyone. He needs years of practice to master self-control and he’s only had months.”
A weird sound bubbled up from my stomach and came out of my mouth. I realized I was laughing at the same second I realized Masters wasn’t. He wasn’t kidding. His expression was calm, confident. He was even a little patient.
“I’m sorry, what? Did you say vampire? As in The Vampire Diaries vampire? As in Twilight vampire? Interview with the Vampire kind of vampire? They’re not real.”
“Those are not real. Definitely not that second one. But the last one, that’s far more like the real thing.”
I rolled my eyes so hard, it hurt a littl
e when they focused. I shook my head at him. But he was so calm. Like he was used to defending his existence. Cold, hard shock moved through me. Fragments of the reality I’d suffered throughout the day came back to me. I’d had his blood. His… blood. It cured me. Because he was a…
Vampire.
Then that meant—
“Maxell’s a vampire, too?”
He nodded once.
And I didn’t know why, but I cried.
Deep sadness wormed through me so fast, I couldn’t have fought it off if I’d been able to. I clutched at my heart, willing the pain away.
“How? Why?” I begged to know.
“The how is complicated. The why is, too. It’s his story to tell now.” He folded his hands on his lap.
“Vampires?” I whispered, studying him, really studying. “Why are your eyes purple?”
He smiled kindly. “They become that color as long as we abstain from our typical diet.”
“You mean… blood?”
“I mean human blood.”
There was something he wasn’t telling me. I didn’t know how to ask. He didn’t consume blood, then what did he consume?
His kind smile became indulgent, as if he’d read my mind. “That’s a different story for a different time.”
I rubbed my temples. “I can’t believe this.”
“It is shocking,” he agreed.
“No, I mean I physically, consciously, emotionally can’t believe this. I can’t leave this house and go back to school and life and wonder whether I’d lost my mind that one day when I met a freaking man with purple eyes and sucked his blood and—” I broke off, hyperventilating.
“Shh,” he soothed, remaining perfectly still. He knew better than to touch me right now. “I promise it’s okay. Your mind is strong. It’s resilient. It was made for this,” he added softly under his breath.
“How do you know?”
“My wife has unique abilities. She senses things about people.”
That was one more weird thing in an overtly weird day, and I chose to ignore it for now. “Why are you telling me all of this? Why not leave me in the forest with a broken arm? Why give me your blood and lasagna and the truth?”
“Do you not deserve the truth?” he asked, expression sincere.
I licked my lips and looked away. “That’s a trick question.”
“And maybe,” he continued, in a different tone. It was heavy, not in volume but weight, severity. “You’re place in our lives wasn’t an accident.” He stood up. “If you wish to leave, we can do so now. Otherwise, you’re more than welcome to stay.”
I wondered if his name was Masters not for any other reason than because he was a master at messing with my head. He dangled answers in front of me but gave me no real way to articulate them. He opened my brain and dumped in magic and presented me with two impossible options. Neither option I could choose.
“I appreciate dinner. It was really good. And I appreciate the, uh, blood, it was, uh, bloody, but I’d like to go home. If you don’t mind.”
He studied me for a second before he chuckled. “You’re welcome. I think. Thank you for being trustworthy. It’s a rare trait,” he said, eyes glancing away for a fraction before resettling on mine. “I’ll take you home now.”
Figuring I was supposed to follow him, I did. His house was an elaborate maze of glass, modernly decorated rooms, and secrets. But it was only secret to me. He exited a door, spitting us out in a garage. Inside, there were luxury cars. He picked a black one and opened my door for me.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, awkwardly taking a seat in the passenger side. The leather smelled brand new and the interior was sleek.
The garage opened and he backed out after getting inside the driver’s seat. Parts of me kept waiting for him to say Ha! Gotya! I am a serial killer, let me show you my dungeon. But he didn’t. I almost preferred that over him maintaining the impossibility that he was a vampire.
A vampire.
Vampire!
A blood-thirsty supernatural creature I’d read about a million times over, watched them on television. Maybe I didn’t believe him. Maybe that’s why I hadn’t yet accepted his words as truth. That was fine. I didn’t want to believe him.
I wanted to pretend like today had never happened.
The road leading away from their property was engulfed by trees on either side. The sun had set, and it was dark with night. I wasn’t sure if Masters wanted to talk; if he did, I wasn’t much help. My mind was putty. Overwhelmed and out of control.
He found my place easily. Taking a route I didn’t know existed. I hadn’t known there was a road past the trees, that though it was three miles on paper, the drive was somehow close to ten minutes.
I was abhorrently saddened to find that Granny Londa still wasn’t home. But Martian was. He sat on the porch, tail swinging slowly when Masters pulled up.
“He’s okay,” I gasped, sagging in relief.
“He’s okay,” Masters reiterated, like see, we’re not completely terrifying.
I wasn’t so sure.
I never thought I’d find this house home. Never knew I’d be so happy to see its peeling paint and worn exterior. I reached for the door handle, half-way out when he said my name. I looked back at him.
“Will you do me a favor?” he asked.
“What is it?”
“Maxell isn’t safe to be around. I have no doubt that one day he will be. He’s done remarkably well. But one second could change your life and his without him even meaning to. Temptation is everywhere for him. If he gives in, even once, things could end in tragedy. Heed that, please.”
“What makes you think I’d still want to talk to him?”
He gave me the oddest look. It was kind, knowing, and faintly amused. He tapped his temple. “We’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?”
I studied him for half a second, determined I wasn’t mean enough to say what I was actually thinking out loud, and then slammed the door on his smiling face, cutting off his impending chuckle.
With a strength I didn’t know I still possessed, and a willpower I didn’t know I had, I marched up to my front door, found that it was still unlocked, and closed Martian and I inside.
I poured him a large bowl of food, refilled his water bowl, and then I locked the house up tight. I went upstairs and tore off my clothes, stuffing them down to the bottom of my hamper. I took a shower so hot, I hissed when the hot spray pelted my back. I crawled into my bed and burrowed under the covers, reaching desperately for rest.
For which I fell, deeply and completely to sleep.
CHAPTER FIVE
Unlike the last morning I tried to pretend everything was normal, I was perfectly aware that I was purposely avoiding the previous day.
I was content equating it to a bad dream. It had all the makings of a nightmare. Terrifying, strange, and too awful to be real.
I awoke, I compartmentalized, and that was the easy part because the world still looked the same. Same bedroom, same situation, same everything—which normally would have epically depressed me. It was funny how one little nightmare could make you appreciate the one you were already in.
I started a load of laundry, refusing to look at the clothes again after they were in the dryer. I fed Martian, who was looking at me strangely. If I didn’t know any better, he blamed me. What for—I was pretending—I didn’t know.
“Keep it to yourself,” I griped at him, chewing numbly on the end of a piece of stale toast. He slinked away, throwing a haughty look over his shoulder as if to say: “You can’t spend your entire life pretending yesterday didn’t happen.”
To which I replied: “I can, and I will.”
Before I left for school, I made a quick grocery list and then I raided the couch cushions for spare change and pilfered my pathetic savings. I had sixteen dollars and eighty-two cents by the time I locked up and was on my way to school. After which, I’d stop at the store and get some food. I missed Reowna’s lasagna already.
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The walk to school began as any other. Humdrum, slightly depressing, and overcast. I had every intention of not thinking of exactly what I didn’t want to think about. And I could have done so, if Maxell wasn’t following me.
I felt him the moment I stepped outside. The difference between him and the other two brutes who’d attacked me—just kidding; none of that was real—was how strongly his influence was over my intuition. How deeply I sensed him, where I had only feared the others. I couldn’t contemplate why it was that way. Why from the moment I’d seen his stupid picture, I couldn’t help feeling things. If for any other reason than it was sad.
Even more sad now that I knew the truth.
I paused walking, turning around quickly. He was behind me, dressed in his usual garb. All black. His hood was pulled over his head. There were a lot of shadows where his face was. What little daylight there was didn’t do a good job at showing his features. The only part of him I saw was his jawline. It was pressed hard; tendons in his jaw pulsed from his teeth being pressed together so roughly.
We stood at least twelve feet apart. My heartrate sped up.
“We need to talk,” his deep, smooth voice said.
Once again, I was taken aback by the sound of his voice. It was beautiful, far more beautiful than this situation deserved. The effortless evenness of his tone mixed with the deepness. Like everything he said mattered more than if anyone else said it.
“No, we don’t.” I tried to untangle my gaze from his. Even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I felt them. His eyes held mine even from a distance.
“Yes, we do,” he replied. “Please,” he added, softening the edge to his words.
I didn’t think I was susceptible to the word please. It was just a word. I liked to think I was nice enough to not need the guilt-inducing powers of the word to begin with. But it was the way he said it, and the sound of the word in his voice, and the way I could tell he meant it, that had me wondering if he could scramble my brain somehow. Because for some stupid reason, I found myself giving in.
Even on the brink of terror.
Court of Frost and Embers (The Pair Bond Chronicles Book 1) Page 7