“So the guy, the one who saved you, what happened to him?”
Not Nathan. Carrie was bad enough, but not Nathan as well. I can’t talk about him. I’m afraid if I speak an actual real word about him, make Nathan real in my conversation, in my mind, then the floodgates will open and I’ll never be able to close them again. And I won’t be able to stop myself from running straight back to the farm, to him.
I bite down on my bottom lip and try to give an easy shrug. “He’s living his life, I guess.”
“You running from him too?”
His words slam into my chest with the force of a bulldozer. I stand abruptly. My movement so jerky and quick I slosh my coffee everywhere, all over my hand and clothes. “Shit,” I mutter.
The hot liquid is burning my hand and has seeped straight through my T-shirt and jeans burning the skin on my stomach and legs, but the pain doesn’t stop me moving.
Unfocused and flustered, I slam the cup down on the nearest surface I can find; the floor, and make for the door to grab my rucksack, so I can get the hell out of here.
“Are you okay?” Zeff asks, obviously concerned. I hear him put his cup down and get to his feet.
“I’m fine. I just need to get going – I just remembered I’ve – got this thing I need to do.” I bend down to grab my rucksack.
“I was asking too many questions?” Zeff’s soft voice comes from behind me.
My back stiffens. I straighten up, swinging the rucksack over my shoulder, I turn around to face him. “I just …” My mouth has gone dry, tacky. I look at the floor and lift my shoulders. “I guess there are just some things I don’t want to talk about.”
I look up through my eyelashes to see his reaction. Looking down, he nods, slightly. It does something strange to me. And I feel almost guilty for reacting the way I just did.
“I get that,” he says. “Sorry I was being intrusive.”
Shifting from foot to foot, I nervously pick at my bag strap as I lift my shoulders, “Sorry I spilt coffee everywhere.”
I gesture behind him at the massive coffee stain on the cushion seat of his swing chair.
He looks over his shoulder at it, then back to me. “I think there’s more coffee on you than my cushions.” He releases a smile... that slightly crooked smile of his, again. And that one single smile somehow manages to break all of my nervous resolve.
Glancing down at my mess, I wipe my hand down my damp top. “I really should get going, though.” I walk toward the steps.
He follows me. “I’ll drive you home.”
Home. I don’t have a home. “No it’s fine, I can walk.”
“I’ll drive you,” he says in a no-argument voice. “Let me just go grab my car keys.”
I pause on the steps and wait there until he remerges, shoes on his feet, car keys in his hand. I follow him over to his car and climb in the passenger seat, dropping my bag into the foot well.
“So,” he says, his voice back to that easy way of his, “I was thinking … while you’re waiting for the passport to arrive, before you up sticks and leave, why don’t I give you some lessons in fighting … or self-defence at the very least,” he adds when he sees my expression.
“I don’t need lessons in fighting.” I fold my arms across my chest. “I know how to take care of myself.”
“Oh yeah, sure, I got that from the other night,” he says with a wry chuckle.
He’s taking the piss. I hate that.
He turns the engine on and the radio bursts to life. As if on cue, a Killers song is playing. I have a vivid flash back of being in Nathan’s car with him driving beside me. Then I get a sudden, unexpected whiff of his scent, blindsiding me. It makes me ache all over.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I try to ignore the song and the memories it’s provoking.
I say, a little too defensively, “I am strong. I could kick your arse.”
I can’t believe I just said that. I sound so childish.
But I feel like I need to make him understand that I’m not defenceless. I’m not the same person I was six months ago. But really why should it matter what he thinks? He didn’t know me back then, and he doesn’t know me now. Not really. And honestly, why do I even care what he thinks, his opinion is irrelevant. He’s irrelevant.
He laughs.
“You are strong, and I’ve no doubt you could ‘kick my arse’,” he mimics my Yorkshire accent to perfection. It grates on my aching skin. “But the things that are coming after you are a hell of a lot stronger than you are, and are way older. You’ve got the equipment Bunny, but if you don’t know how to use it then you’re just going into a fight blind.”
“I’m not planning on getting into any more fights.”
He gives me a look. “You might not be planning on it, but it sounds to me like they definitely are.”
God, this song is driving me crazy. I’m starting to feel uncomfortable in my own skin. My eyes keep flicking to the stereo. I want to punch it to silent. Clenching and unclenching my fists, I will this feeling to go away.
“Okay, fine. And what – you know how to fight?” I grit my teeth together, trying to get past my inner demons.
He grins, “As it just so happens, I do.”
And then I don’t know why but I can’t contain my emotions any longer, and a raw empty pain suddenly bursts out of me.
“Why are you doing this?!” I reach over and angrily twist the dial on the stereo, turning the song off, leaving us in a less than blissful silence. “Why are you always trying to help me?! From the second I met you it’s all you do – help, help, help!! It’s driving me crazy!”
And at this exact moment, I’m not actually sure if I’m yelling at Zeff, or Nathan.
Zeff looks from me, to the stereo, and back to me again. There’s intricate darkness in his eyes and I can’t get a clear read on him. But by the way he keeps clenching and unclenching his jaw; I going to take it he’s a tad annoyed.
“Wow. Okay,” he mutters.
And then I just feel horrible. And a little hollow. And also completely irrational and stupid for my outburst. I’m just a nasty cow. I never realised how much so until just recently.
I turn to him and the expression on his face actually pains me. “I’m really sorry.”
I don’t say that often. It’s hurt me to just do it then, but he doesn’t deserve what I said. “I didn’t mean that – you’re not driving me crazy. I’m driving me crazy. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” I sigh. “Look, I’ve just gone through some really huge changes recently, and I’m kind of trying to learn how to do things alone. I’m learning how to be alone for the first time in my life, and you being all nice and kind to me, and constantly helping, is … well, hindering that.”
And it’s also incredibly sweet if I bothered to look at it that way, which I now am of course.
Ugh, I’m a horrible person.
“Not that I don’t appreciate your kindness, because I do. I really do, I’m just … ”
“Look, from where I’m sitting, you’re already doing everything alone,” he picks up, obviously sensing I’m running out of words. His eyes drift to mine. “I’m just offering you a little extra help, that’s all.”
I look away. “I’m not doing well.” I shake my head, wringing my hands in my lap.
“You’re not giving yourself enough credit, Bunny. You’re surviving, and that’s what counts.”
I slide my focus over to his.
“Accepting help from people doesn’t make you weak, it makes you strong,” he adds in a low voice.
“That’s kind of insightful for a Thursday night.” I give a weak smile.
“That’s me – insightful and full of wisdom.” Nodding, he taps his forehead with his finger, his eyes smiling at me. “And I’m also pretty awesome too … and dashingly handsome of course.” He grins.
“Of course,” I murmur, giving a nod of my head. I have to bite my lip to stop from laughing, it's creeping up my dry, aching throat. He really is
quite funny in a sarcastic, confident, kind of way. Not that I’d tell him that. His ego’s over inflated enough as it is. “I knew you were full of something,” I murmur. “I just didn’t realise it was wisdom.”
“Oh yeah,” he says in a brighter voice. “I’ve got tons of it. I’m full to the brim with wisdom.” His lips tip upward again. A smile starts to edge the corners of my own. “Mostly it’s utter crap,” he adds. “But every now and then something good does show up.”
“You’re an idiot,” I laugh.
And then suddenly I feel like I can’t stop laughing; don’t want to stop laughing. I’m laughing so hard tears have formed in my eyes. I clutch a hand to my stomach. I can’t remember the last time I laughed properly, or wanted to. It feels pretty good.
“Hey, you’re laughing!” Zeff grins, chuckling. “I knew I could get it out of you, and look, it didn’t even take me long either. Told you I was awesome.”
“I don’t know about awesome, but you are a little crazy,” I say, still laughing, wiping my eyes dry.
“Oh, that I am.” He winks. “And you Bunny, well you’re a rubbish fighter. You fight like a girl. A five year old girl to precise, and that’s me being generous. It was embarrassing to watch the other night. That’s why I had to intervene and save you – just to put him and me out of our misery. It was painful to watch your arms and legs flailing about like a toddler having a tantrum.”
He grins but bites down on his full lower lip, trying to hide it.
I push my tongue between my teeth and up into my top lip, “Embarrassing, huh?”
“Oh yeah, completely.” He gives a serious nod, as he puts his seatbelt on.
I reach back and retrieve my own seatbelt, pulling it across me I pop it into the holder with a loud click. “And what? You’re going to teach me how to fight like a man instead?”
“Oh no, Bunny.” He winks, rolling the car forward. “Tomorrow, I’m going to teach you how to fight like a Vârcolac.”
Chapter 8: Training Day
I pop back to my apartment after I finish work to change out of my work clothes and into something a little more appropriate for today.
Because today is the first day of ‘teaching Bunny how to fight’, as Zeff puts it.
Shit. He’s even got me calling myself Bunny now. I give myself a mental slap
Taking my work clothes off, I put on my black sweatpants and black ribbed vest, tie my hair in a ponytail, slip my feet into trainers, lace them up, put mthey rucksack on my back, and set off for Zeff’s lodge.
Zeff did offer to come and pick me up, but I said no. Mainly, because I don’t want him to keep putting himself out for me, he’s doing enough already and I still feel guilty for last night’s little outburst, and also because today I feel like having a run.
I know, not like me at all. But I just feel all pumped up and wired for some reason, and I thought it would be a good way to burn it off and loosen up for whatever Zeff has in store for me.
Surprising myself I’ve discovered I am actually looking forward to doing this training with Zeff. I’m looking forward to learning how to protect and defend myself properly, you know, instead of kiddy fighting.
I’m really quite intrigued to know what we’ll be doing today. The only thing I am a little worried about is the shock treatment.
Obviously I’m going to have to touch Zeff. I can’t learn how to fight without making some form of physical contact with him. And I’m guessing there will be quite a lot of physical contact. I’m hoping after the initial, I’ll get used to it, and it won’t be an issue for me.
My feet hit the pavement outside my apartment building and I set off running at a normal pace. I can’t run at the speed I’m capable of in public, I have to wait until I’m under cover. Here I have to blend in and be just like any other normal person out for an early evening run.
Taking the left at the end of my street, heading out of town, I set a steady pace. The good thing about being Vârcolac Alex, is the uphill and five miles to Zeff’s lodge will bear little to no effect on me.
It’s so funny, pre-Vârcolac me would never in a million years consider running five miles. I couldn’t even run five feet. But now I have all this superhuman strength and energy, I’m finding I really like it. It’s blowing the cobwebs off and clearing out my mind.
I wish I’d gone running for pleasure long before today. It’s just not something I’ve ever thought of doing. Of course I’ve run before, but mostly it’s been when I’ve being running for my life, and when you’re running for your life it doesn’t really have the same effect.
I come upon the trees where I was attacked by that vampire a few nights ago. A shudder runs through me. Shaking it off because I want to use the shelter of the trees so I can run faster, I ignore my own fears and slip just inside the woods.
Keeping near to the edge, but not close enough so I can be seen,, I pick up pace, and soon I’m flying through the woods, my feet skimming the soft earth. The trees and bushes whizzing by, my ponytail whipping in the wind. It’s absolutely exhilarating and kind of mind blowing being able to run at this speed.
The exhilaration doesn’t last long though, and I’m very quickly at the point where I have to exit the woods, so I can take the turning off the main road which will take me up to Zeff’s lodge.
Slowing to a jog, I exit the woods, cross the road, and set off up the narrow steep road that leads to the lodge.
It’s an open road. If I look back I can see the town in all its glory. The woods I hunted in yesterday sit further out, at the back of the lodge, spreading down the right side. The woods here are probably as big as the one Jack owns, if not bigger.
Actually, thinking about it, it is kind of odd that Zeff chose to live here, in complete seclusion with a forest on his backdoor step. Being a hunter, isn’t he just attracting the chance of the wrong type of creature showing up to visit him? My kind, and surely werewolves, and whatever else hides in the shadows, will use the cover of woodland to change, or do whatever it is they do. If I were him I would choose to live in a heavily populated area.
Isn’t living secluded a clear danger for him if it’s known he’s a hunter? Or maybe that’s the point; it lures them here so he can kill them with minimal fuss. I wonder if that’s what that vampire was in town for – Zeff.
It does kind of seem funny, now I think about it, all these months of nothing, then I happen upon a vampire the very day I met him – a hunter, in the very town where he lives.
When I reach the end of the road, I turn into the driveway, slowing my pace to a walk.
Climbing the porch steps I knock on the front door.
No answer.
I can’t feel him here, but he can’t have gone out because his car’s still here, and he was expecting me.
Cupping my hands around my eyes I peer through the window. He’s not in the living room.
Feeling a little concerned after what I’ve just been thinking about, I step back from the window and reach my hearing out to see if I can pick up the sound of him or anyone else here.
I’m praying for a no, on the latter.
Hearing movement coming from around the back of the lodge, I inhale deeply.
It’s Zeff.
He’s alone, which eases my worry. But really, why can’t I get a read on his whereabouts? It’s starting to bug the crap out of me.
Jogging down the porch steps I make my way around to the back of the lodge.
And there he is, with his back to me. Top-half naked, wearing loose fitting grey sweatpants on his bottom half, and he’s doing some sort of martial arts exercise.
I watch as the muscles in his back and arms tense and flex with each movement he makes. Movements which are so graceful it’s like he’s moving suspended, gravity defying.
There’s a gleam of sweat covering his caramel skin.
He looks almost iridescent with the sun licking down on him. Even covered in sweat he still looks like he’s just stepped off the pages of a magazine. My
heart thrums a little harder in my chest.
Turning, he catches my staring and immediately stops what he’s doing. A smile lilts his face. And I’m pretty sure mine has just gone bright read. Holding my hand up in a half wave, I start to walk toward to him.
“Hey,” he says. Bending down he picks a towel off the floor and pats his face dry.
“Hey yourself,” I smile. “What was that you were just doing?”
“Tai Chi,” he says. “Well, a form of it, anyway.”
“Ah, cool. It looks good – the exercise I mean – not you.”
Zeff raises his eyebrow.
Oh God, here I go.
“Not that you don’t look good, because of course you do – I meant that the Tai Chi looked good when you were doing it...” Stop talking Alex, now. Please.
Well, I suppose it’s good to know something’s never change; my mouth still has the capability to run away with itself. I just wish there was some way I could teach myself to censor the thoughts spewing from my mouth.
Zeff lets outs a laugh. “Thanks. I think. And I’m glad you think it looks good because you’re going to be doing it in a few minutes.”
“Oh, no. No. Seriously, I can’t do that. I have no coordination. Zero. Not an iota.” My voice comes out shrill.
Bloody hell, what on earth is wrong with me today?
He gives me an amused look. “You’ll be fine. It’ll help you loosen up for the fighting, and a lot of fighting and self-defence moves I’m going to teach you come from Tai.”
His tone is beginning to sound like he’s not going to take no for an answer.
Original Sin Page 7
