“Typical. You don’t want t’kiss her, but you wouldn’t mind f—”
“If I’d have known this would have been your reaction, I’d have woken you up sooner.” The blade at my neck dug a little deeper. A hiss escaped me, a hint of something burning slithering up my nostrils. “I’m kidding. I’m kidding, grumpy. Sheesh.”
Her gaze darted around the room. “What time is it?”
“After nine.” I pointed at my smoking skin. “Do you think we could maybe have this conversation without you trying t’slice my throat?”
She snapped her hand away as if she hadn’t even realized she was holding a blade there. Her focus remained on my throat; a small line formed at the bridge of her nose. I felt the skin across my larynx tightening.
“Healing,” Teen Elle reminded me as her amused gaze flitted between me and her older self. “Well, this isn’t awkward in the slightest.”
“Erm, you hungry?”
“Hungry?”
“Yes. When did you last eat?”
She met my gaze, concern crinkling the corners. “What have you been up to?”
“Watching TV. Catching up on world events.” I propped myself up on my elbows. “Listen, why don’t you go get a shower and I will make some breakfast.”
She stared at me as if I’d just grown another head. “You’re going t’make me breakfast?”
“It’s the least I can do.” I pushed up a little further, until I was resting on my hands, The new position meaning I was practically on level with her … in every way. “Although, if you’d just prefer to stay like this …?”
Her gaze finally left my face, falling lower to where her thighs cradled my hips. Her eyes widened, and if it weren’t for the speed with which she scrambled off of me, I could have sworn I saw her cheeks growing red.
“Real smooth, Than.”
“Okay.” I tried to cough away my amusement as I pushed myself up and off the bed. “Breakfast it is.”
“Is that my bag?” She pointed the knife still in her grasp at the purple duffle on the vanity table.
“Yeah, I got it from the car before the sun came up.” I pulled the duvet straight, using the opportunity to glance at my jeans, relieved that the hoodie I had borrowed was covering my unexpected reaction. “I thought you’d want t’change.”
She stared at me, following my movements as I fluffed the pillows. “What?”
“Nothing.”
Bed straightened and Slayer awake, I made my way to the door, pausing on the threshold. “Just for the record … do you always sleep with a blade?”
She glanced down at the dagger in her hand and nodded. “Always.”
“Bet you’re glad she didn’t wake up and find you looking at her, otherwise, it wouldn’t have been your throat under that knife, but your little tent pole.”
“It’s not little.” I scowled at the grinning teen who casually made her way round the bed and passed a very confused-looking Elle whose attention flitted between me and the empty room. “I will see you downstairs.”
I briskly made my way down to the kitchen. After my shower, I had made sure that all the blinds were closed. Luckily, today was a typical gloomy English day, but I still wasn’t a hundred percent sure how the whole being in daylight worked. Luckily, the black hoodie I had dug out of the Werewolf’s sports bag was two sizes too big for me. Meaning it was a great extra layer of protection.
“A Vampire making breakfast.” Teen Elle sat on one of the stools at the breakfast counter. “Isn’t this what single women fantasize about, superhuman men doing super normal everyday tasks?”
I opened the overhead cupboards until I found a pan, bowl, and mug. “How am I supposed t’know what women fantasize about?”
“Hey, I’m only saying what you’re thinking.”
“Well, what am I supposed t’be thinking about?” I placed them on the counter and made my way over to the fridge. “This entire situation seems ridiculous.”
“Oh, it is.” Pushing against the counter, she spun on the stool; once, twice. “How about you think about how much you wanted t’kiss Elle just then?”
“No.” The reply rushed from my lips, earning a giggled reply. “I mean, no because I didn’t want t’kiss her.”
“You can’t lie t’me, lover boy. I’m in your head.”
“Oh, god, don’t ever call me that again.” It was gross enough, but coming from the mouth of a teenager … yuk.
“Fine. I’m not going to push. Yet.” She spun around on the stool again. “Maybe start thinking about what you’re planning on doing next?”
And wasn’t that a good question. “The plan is t’find Heather who will hopefully make some sense of my situation.”
“And if that doesn’t work?”
I didn’t reply because I had honestly not thought that far ahead. Instead, I opened the fridge and collected the pack of eggs from inside, happy to see they were still in date. The options for breakfast were straightforward as there wasn’t much food in there, just the odd essentials that were close to going off date. Not to mention Heather’s odd little mixture, which I had already helped myself to. Despite the clear scent of blood contained in the glass bottles, the bitter tang of cranberries sure helped dull the iron taste. Even though I thought my thirst was quenched since I’d had no urge to drink since escaping my prison, I’d still found myself downing three litres of this odd little vocktail.
“What t’hell is a vocktail?”
I closed the fridge door. “A mocktail for Vampires?”
She starred at me blankly.
“A mocktail is a non-alcoholic version of a cocktail.”
“I know. I just—” Her head fell into her hands. “You’re such a nerd.”
My focus lifted to the ceiling at the sound of running water … followed by the slide of a lock.
“She thinks you’re weird too, y’know?” The teen lifted her head. “Did you see the way she looked at you for straightening the bedsheets?”
“She’s always thought I was weird.” I wandered back to the stove and got to work on cracking the remaining three eggs into the pan. “And last time I checked, it was just good manners to tidy up when you make a mess in someone else’s home.”
“Aren’t you a gent? Here I was thinking you were doing it t’get some brownie points?”
Running out of the room after our awkward little encounter and my surprising reaction to being so close to her didn’t seem right. It would make me look like an idiot or a perv, or worse, like I was scared of her.
“Aren’t you?”
“No.” I snorted. However, she doesn’t trust me, and acting as human as possible seemed to be the only logical thing to do. “You saw her reaction to my healing throat?”
It was yet again another reminder that I wasn’t human. Meaning she shouldn’t trust me, or that I couldn’t be trusted. And although somewhere deep inside me I knew she wouldn’t hurt me … I wasn’t yet willing to see if I was right.
Grabbing a fork and spoon from the drawer, I slid a spoonful of butter into the pan and switched on the hob.
“Does she even like eggs?”
“She used to.” I filled the nearby kettle and switched it on before turning my attention back to the pan. “Besides, it’s not like there’s a lot of options. Something t’eat is better than nothing t’eat.”
“By the smell, I think she will opt for nothing at this rate.”
I didn’t think it was possible for me to gag at food, but she was right.
“They can’t be off. I checked the date.” I continued whisking the yellow liquid, watching as it slowly became solid.
“Maybe it’s your sensitive nose?”
I turned the hob off as soon as the eggs had taken their scrambled form. Moving to the kitchen window, I cracked it open, allowing the cool air to sweep in and waft away the putrid smell.
“Do you think it is?”
“I know as much as you do.” She continued spinning around on the bar stool. “If Elle thin
ks they smell funky, then it might just be the butter.”
Taking hold of the pan, I scooped the eggs into the bowl. “Well, the butter’s in date so there’s no reasonable explanation as t’why they would smell so bad.”
“Well, that really sells breakfast for me.”
I jumped as Elle appeared in the kitchen. Her hair was damp and scrapped back in a messy bun. Dressed in dark denim jeans, a black vest, and an unbuttoned green checked shirt, she stood in the open space, scanning the dining room and kitchen. Her fingers wrapped around the hilt of the blade resting in its holder at her hip. “Who are you talking to?”
“No one.” I laughed, putting the pan in the sink. “Just myself.”
“Yeah, because that doesn’t make you sound any less weird.”
I threw a pointed look at the teen and picked up the bowl of scrambled eggs and placed the fork inside. “Here. There isn’t much in.”
Her focus slipped to the bowl and then moved to the kettle.
“I’m good.” She skirted past me and collected the mug from the side and set to making herself a coffee.
“Told you they didn’t smell right.”
“You should try and eat something. It’s been ages.” I placed the bowl on the breakfast bar. “They’re fresh.”
She glanced over her shoulder at me.
“The eggs.” I nodded at the bowl. “They just don’t smell great to me.”
Her left eyebrow arched. “They smell fine.”
“Then it’s definitely me.” I looked at the teen triumphantly. “Must be another Vampire perk.”
Surely, Vampires couldn’t be that turned off by food. It was a strange idea, but then again, it wasn’t like I had an opportunity to figure it out as they’d had no food at the facility. Plus, I had been travelling late at night and through the early hours of the morning, no takeaways open. No homecooked meals tainting the air of the homes I had walked past. I guess time would tell if this was a one-off or definitely a Vampire thing.
Black coffee in hand, Elle turned and headed to the pantry door, which was situated next to the fridge. “Have you drunk?”
“Yup. Quite a bit of your cousin’s odd mixture.”
She stepped inside and flicked on the light. Placing her mug on one of the shelves, she knelt down and began to run her hands across the floor.
“What’s she doing?” Teen Elle asked, hopping off the stool.
“Erm, Elle?” I picked the bowl of scrambled eggs up and wandered over to the doorway, pausing when I heard a click.
Elle straightened, and part of the floorboards lifted. Leaning down, she pulled the wood to one side.
“Is that a secret door?” I found myself asking as she collected her drink and headed down into the darkness.
“Of course it is, eejit. We’re in the home of a Vampire hunter.” Teen Elle pushed past me and followed her real self.
I stared at the dark hole, hesitant to follow. Why would I want to go back underground in a dark dank space? Was it a trap? Had she lied about wanting to help me? Would Elle lock me up down there?
Beeping met my ears, followed by a clunk and a whine as something heavy was made to move. A rhythmic clap and pale light illuminated the secret doorway.
“There’s only one way t’find out.” The teen popped her head through the hole. “Well, don’t just stand there like a ninny.”
Reluctantly, I headed down. The stepladders led to a small type of hallway. An open door lay to my right, and as I stepped through into the light, I suddenly felt as though I were in a spy film.
“Is this what I think it is?”
Elle stood by a desk near the far wall, her attention fixed to a large frame hanging there. “What do you think it is?”
“Is this Heather’s training room?” I stepped farther into the room, wandering around the gym equipment that took up the middle of the space. “Like the one you said you have at home?”
“Aye, but ours is bigger.” Elle turned to evaluate the room. “And not as depressing.”
“This is awesome.” Teen Elle stood next to the red punch bag, ducking and weaving, throwing punches that never connected with the heavy sack.
The room was grey and dull, but it was basically a home gym. “I guess it’s a good use of space.”
Real Elle snorted. “Only you would find this normal.”
“Well, its normal for you, isn’t it?” I asked, stopping beside her.
She moved around me and took a seat at the desk. “Yeah, I guess.”
My focus stayed on the large frame she had been staring at. The parchment inside was old, worn. It was huge. The lines of what looked to be the shape of an oak tree were fading, along with many scribbled names. As my eyes travelled lower toward the trunk, the names were a little easier to read. Danielle’s name rested beneath her parents, parallel to her cousin Alexis’, Heather’s name scribbled neatly below.
“Holy shit, is this-is this your family tree?” I looked over at her. “It’s gigantic.”
“Tell me about it,” she mumbled, switching the computer on.
“Have you met any of your relatives?” There were a few names situated a little higher than Elle’s and Alexis’, but it almost looked as if the last three generations hadn’t had children.
“Not really. I can recall my parents talking to the odd one on the phone.” She cradled her mug between her hands and took a mouthful of coffee. “Most of our family stopped this bullshit years ago.”
“What do you mean?” I walked over to the desk.
“Some refused to have children. A few were disowned from refusing to follow this lifestyle. And y’know, a lot were killed.”
“Did you ever consider walkin’ away?”
She stared into space for a long time, before finally replying.
“Once I saw what they had done to Alexis …” She put her mug on the table. “It would have been easy to say, ‘this isn’t worth it.’ Watching loved ones get killed or go crazy, or paralyzed like my Da.” She crossed her arms and rested them on the table. “It would be easy t’be scared, but the truth is seeing what they did t’my Da, t’my cousins … It made me angry. No way was I going t’let Leeches get away with hurting the ones I loved.”
She lifted her gaze to mine, suddenly seeming defeated. “I’m-I’m sorry this happened t’you.” The words were quiet as they left her lips.
“Did she just apologize?”
“Elle, I—?”
Her attention moved to the computer. “But this is what they do. They attack and turn people and ruin their lives and the lives of their families. I will admit that since Heather and Sofia left, since most of the Leeches followed them, well, there hasn’t been much to slay the last few years. These last few months, well, the decision was pretty much made for me, until Sofia died. Until Heather never checked in. So, it was either I come and help my cousin with this insane legacy that has been placed on both of us, or I hang up my sword.”
Her gaze moved across the room.
“Being here has reminded me of what has been taken from my family. Something that was so easy to ignore hiding away in my parents’ house in peaceful little Wicklow.” Her eyes found me once more, determination now burning there. “So, the short answer is no. Even though I have had my doubts, I have never truly thought about running away from this life. It’s not really ever been an option.”
The light of the computer screen highlighted her face. I could see the glisten of unshed tears resting in her tired eyes.
All the years I had laughed at her—this was no joke. In their own way, her family saved people’s lives. She saved people’s lives. If she had been there the night Freddie and I were attacked … I’d still be human, and Freddie would be alive. Our families wouldn’t be worried about us. We would have been able to see them again.
If Elle or Heather or someone like them had been there, my life wouldn’t have turned into a horror film.
“You also wouldn’t have reconnected with Elle.”
I gla
nced over my shoulder at the teen who was still having a ball playing with all the gym equipment. I could feel the protest on the edge of my tongue, but who was I kidding? She was right. If Freddie and I had gone on our merry way, the chances of me seeing Elle again would’ve been very low.
“You weren’t even a hundred percent sure about dropping in on her when you both ventured across to the Emerald Isle.”
I wasn’t sure if she would have wanted to see me. If she would have agreed to. If she had, it would have no doubt been awkward—well, minus the sword in my face kind of awkward. Part of me felt it was easier to not let her know that I was home.
The teen stopped her fake-lifting of weights and pinned me with a stern look. “And that’s just shite, Than. Its cowardice t’not have even tried. You really have been a shite friend for not contacting her, but more so for crawling back t’her now.”
These were unusual circumstances.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re lucky you know a Vampire Hunter. You’re lucky you were once friends with one, otherwise you would have been severely screwed.”
I felt heavy, ashamed. Truth was I was lucky to be standing here. I was lucky to have her to help me, because without her, I would have lost my mind weeks ago. I really would have been gone.
“Isn’t it funny how being crazy enough to create yourself an imaginary version of your childhood friend has actually kept you sane?” the teen pointed out as she set to running on the treadmill.
“Yeah, it’s hilarious.” With a roll of my eyes, I turned back to find Elle staring at the gym equipment. That little crinkle at the bridge of her nose had formed.
“Thanks.”
Her cautious gaze turned back to me.
“Y’know? For not killing me.”
“Yet.”
A laugh escaped me, and I was pleased to see the twitch at the corner of her lips. Her attention moved back to the room. She slowly scanned the space as though looking for something.
“She wants t’know who you keep talking to,” the teen commented. “Eventually, you’re going t’have to admit that you did lose your mind back there.”
Cross My Heart Page 12
