“Sounds easy.”
“We can go talk to the manager tonight, if you’d like.” A worried expression came over Rosie’s face. “Hmm, maybe that’s not a good idea . . . Hugo’s working tonight and seeing you and me together might set him off.”
Finished counting, Zac gave Rosie her payment. “Do you think I’m afraid of Hugo?” he asked Rosie, excitement glinting in his eyes.
“I’m just saying . . . he’s a big guy,” Rosie said nervously. “And mean,” she added, her face tightly drawn with concern.
“Why don’t you introduce me to that bar owner tonight?”
“That’s not a good idea. You don’t know Hugo.”
“And you don’t know me.” Zac’s voice rang with superiority. Chuckling, Zac left the room to put the money away in the hotel safe that was secreted away in a cubby near the closet where he slept.
“Are you coming with us, Jonas? You know . . . for backup in case Hugo flies into a jealous rage?” Rosie asked in a whisper, unaware that Zac could clearly hear her.
“I have other plans,” Jonas told her.
“Can’t you put your plans on hold for Zac? Hugo’s a big guy, and he’s extremely violent. He’ll beat the crap out of Zac.”
Recalling Zac’s lightning fast motions—the way he moved with such swiftness was baffling—Jonas couldn’t suppress an amused smile. “Zac can handle himself. But if you’re so worried about his safety, why did you invite him to work at the same place as Hugo?”
“After he gets hired, he’ll be safe. The owner won’t allow employees fighting and carrying on.”
“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Jonas said in an equally low tone, though fully aware that Zac could hear him. “Zac knows martial arts. He’s good. So don’t worry about him.”
Zac rejoined Jonas and Rosie. “You’re looking mighty spiffy, Jonas. Where’re you off to?” He gazed at Jonas. “Let me guess . . . you’re going out to rendezvous with your sweetheart again tonight?”
“I don’t have a sweetheart. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jonas snapped, but he knew that Zac was in his head again. After tonight, he’d be far away from Zac and his constant prying.
The clothes he’d stolen from the boy in the pickup truck were a constant reminder of the ghastly crime. Dressed in dandy new clothes: crisp jeans, a sleeveless hoodie, and black Nikes, Jonas looked thoroughly Americanized. And more importantly, he felt more like his former human self and less like the monster he’d become.
He hadn’t done a lot of sightseeing, and he thought about wandering around the city on his last night in Georgia, but there was a tug on his heart that led him back to the park. And it wasn’t merely for prey.
He wanted to see Holland again. Hoped there was a chance that she’d returned to the park. As soon as he’d crossed the main entrance, he smelled her unmistakable personal scent. Her sweet fragrance led him straight to her.
His breath caught. There she was, seated on the same bench as the night before. Only this time she wasn’t crying. She was wearing ear pods, listening to music. Her face, serene. He studied her flawless features in secret, and had to admit that it was more than her beauty that attracted him. She seemed wise and kind. An old soul that he could talk to about the mysteries of life.
What bothered him was that she was so vibrantly alive and warm, he could practically feel heat radiating off of her skin. His attraction to Holland was confusing. He suffered conflicting emotions, wanting to protect and devour her at the same time.
He wasn’t exactly hungry, but there was a low growl in his throat, a primal instinct that compelled him to attack. It occurred to him that he should vacate the park at once. How could he ever forgive himself if he hurt Holland?
She raised her head and saw him. The lights from the sparkling trees illuminated Jonas’s face. A welcoming smile blossomed on her face. “Hey, Jonas.” She pulled the ear pods out and waved him over. “I was hoping I’d see you again.”
He cautiously approached her. The closer he got, the more heady her scent. He willed himself to keep control over his impulses.
“Glad to see you smiling tonight,” Jonas said in a voice that was much calmer than he felt.
“Yeah. Teenage stuff. I’m over it,” she said. “Hey, I heard that enrollment for new students’ starts tomorrow.”
Jonas’s face clouded. “I won’t be able to enroll—not yet.”
“Are you planning to get homeschooled?”
“I’m not sure. I have to go visit family members in Miami tomorrow. I’ll probably work for a few months. I won’t have the luxury of being a student until my finances have improved.”
“Was your family, uh, back in Haiti . . . were they affected by the earthquake?”
His eyes dropped in sorrow. “Everyone was affected by that disaster. Terrible times in my country.”
Holland lowered her head, nodding in understanding. Jonas got a better look at her on the sly. Her tough girl image: the edgy haircut and the bold, two-toned color screamed that she was a rebellious, troubled child. Yet her conversation told a different story. Holland seemed good-natured and completely centered.
“Where have you been staying?” she asked.
“I’m staying in a hotel. Provided by the Red Cross.” He hated lying, but the truth was a horror story.
“I’m glad you’ve had stable lodging.”
A silence stretched out for a few uncomfortable moments as Jonas recalled his former unstable dwelling place in the woods. Holland would have fled screaming if she’d seen him in his filthy burial clothes.
It bothered him not knowing the meaning of why he’d been uprooted from the grave. Perhaps that was something else that Madam Collette could explain.
Sensing his solemn mood, Holland patted the top of his hand. “Things always work out in the end. That’s what my mom always says.” She stood. “It’s getting late. Time for me to call it a night and get home. Nice seeing you again, Jonas.”
“Yes, very nice,” he said, standing up also. Though he barely knew her, having to say goodbye to Holland was distressing.
“We can exchange numbers if you’d like,” Holland suggested.
“I’m not your typical American boy; I don’t have a cell phone yet.”
Embarrassed, Holland averted her eyes briefly. “Sorry. I guess I can’t fully grasp what you’ve been through . . . what you’re still enduring.”
“I’ll be all right,” Jonas said with a brave smile. His stomach was beginning to rumble. Soon, his entire system would be in turmoil, yet he didn’t want to say goodbye quite yet.
“It’s pretty late for you to walk the streets alone,” Jonas said.
“Oh, I’m fine. I’m a night creature,” Holland joked. “I love the solitude of darkness. Besides, it’s safe around here. Small town. Everyone knows each other.”
There were forces that Holland didn’t know about and Jonas would hate for her to cross paths with Zac. The thought of Holland being pulled into the vampire’s fatal embrace caused Jonas’s heart to quicken.
“I’d feel better if you allowed me to walk you home.”
“Okay,” she said with an easy smile.
They chatted about their favorite subjects, and then the topic changed to fave movies. Back in Haiti, viewing films was a rare luxury, but since being in the hotel, Jonas has watched his share and was able to contribute to the conversation.
When they reached the front of her house, a small, one-story bungalow, Holland opened her handbag and scrawled her number on a piece of paper. “Call me and let me know how you’re doing in Miami.” As if committing his features to memory, she scrutinized his face.
Taking Jonas off-guard, Holland lifted up on her toes and brushed her lips across his cheekbone. “I hope we’ll be friends, Jonas. And don’t forget to call me.”
“I will,” he promised and then, unable to control his attraction to Holland, Jonas bent and softly kissed her on the lips.
Increasing the intimacy of t
he kiss, Holland encircled his neck with her arms, pulling him closer, and parting her lips.
He felt a tingling within. The sweet taste of her tongue, the rush of warm breath that was transferred from her mouth to his, was intense. His arms slid around her back, pressing her chest against his. His mind was spinning out of control. Agony practically oozed from his pores. Feeling the familiar low, primal growl building inside, Jonas abruptly pulled away.
Sweat broke out on his forehead. He mopped it away with the back of his hand. “Good . . . goodnight, Holland,” he stammered.
There was a look of bafflement on Holland’s face.
“I’ll talk to you soon,” he said with a hint of an apology in his voice.
He turned around and rushed away. He could feel Holland’s curious eyes on his back, and somehow he made it to the end of the block.
Walking with the brisk stride, he reached the corner and turned around. He waved at Holland; she fluttered fingers and he could see the sad look in her eyes. Reluctantly, he tore his eyes away from her face and made a sharp turn.
Out of Holland’s view, Jonas’s posture changed, his shoulders slumped as his blazing eyes swept the ground, alleyways, and up into the branches of trees. His hands formed into a clawed position, ready for an attack. And his breathing became loud, panting . . . animalistic.
All traces of humanity had vanished. Once again, Jonas was a monster, prowling the quiet streets in search of prey.
CHAPTER 21
“Mom!” Holland called as she placed her keys on the hook near the door. Her mother was a night owl like her, and rarely went to bed before midnight. She wanted to tell her all about Jonas.
“I’m in my bedroom,” Phoebe called back in an unusual drowsy tone. Holland glanced at the time. Eleven-fifteen. Early for her mother.
Holland tossed her purse on the couch, and then hurried through the small living room to her mother’s bedroom.
Phoebe was propped up by pillows, her laptop in front of her.
“What happened to your neck?” Holland asked, stunned to see a piece of gauze taped to the side of her mother’s neck.
Phoebe gave a dismissive hand wave. “A couple of mosquito bites.”
“Oh!” Holland furrowed her brow, giving the bandage another quizzical look. “You look a little pale. Are you okay, Mom?”
“I’m fine. Guess who stopped by?”
Holland lifted a brow.
“That polite young man that bought the car from me—Zacharias. He said that he felt guilty over the low price he paid and he insisted that I accept an additional three hundred dollars.” Wearing a smile tinged with pride, her mother shook her head as if in disbelief. “A real Southern gentleman. Only a few years older than you.”
“That’s great, Mom. But I hope you aren’t trying to set me up with an older man,” Holland said, laughing.
“He’s twenty-two and very handsome. I hated having to sell my car, but we needed something to tide us over until my business picks up.”
“Maybe you should hook up with the guy that bought your car. At thirty-seven, it’s time for you to embrace your cougar tendencies,” Holland teased.
“I’m not a cougar! I’m still in love with your father—my true soul mate. We’ll meet again one day on the other side.” Her mother’s eyes drifted off wistfully. “Zacharias and I had a lengthy discussion about reincarnation, soul mates, witchcraft . . . all the topics that interest me.”
“Zacharias! That’s a weird name,” Holland said with her mouth turned down.
“I like the name. It has a certain Southern elegance. Anyway, Zac set up a session . . . tomorrow night.”
Holland groaned. “Oh, Mom, you are absolutely shameless. What did you promise him . . . a love casting spell?”
“No. He’s interested in becoming an entrepreneur. I’m going to help him with his finances.”
“Sounds great,” Holland muttered sarcastically. “We can barely make ends meet around here, but yet you think you’re qualified to help people with their finances. Seems a little unethical.”
“You know I wouldn’t do anything unethical, hon. I’m not even charging him for his session. It’s my way of thanking him for the extra bonus he gave me.”
“Okay, that’s cool,” Holland said in earnest. She felt a little guilty for suggesting that her mother was dishonest. “I’m sorry to see the old Saab go. I’ve only had my driver’s license for a month . . . would have been nice to have a set of wheels.”
“We’ll get another car—a newer model. I’ve yet to reach the full potential of my powers. But as I continue to learn and my spells improve, I’m sure I’ll be raking in money,” her mother said, her eyes filled with hope.
Her mother’s money troubles had become serious once the money she’d been granted from a medical malpractice suit a few years ago had run out. Holland and her mother had been living off the settlement after her mother sued the hospital where her father died. It had been a large sum of money, but nothing lasts forever—especially when the beneficiary is a little loopy and a terrible money manager.
Often times, Holland felt like the parent in the mother/daughter relationship. Something had changed in her mother after her father’s untimely death. After all these years, her mother was still grieving, but masked her pain with all her New Age hobbies.
Feeling like she’d been overly harsh and critical toward her mother, Holland said, “You know what, Mom, your spells have been improving. You helped me get Jarrett’s attention.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but I’m not so sure that he’s the right guy for me.” She kept it brief, fearing that if she went into detail, admitting that Jarrett was a coldhearted creep, she might burst into tears. And that would be embarrassing.
“You’re probably too mature for him, honey. Those school boys aren’t up to your level of maturity, hon. Now, a guy like Zac—”
“Not interested, Mom. Christ, I’m only sixteen—I’m jailbait!”
“I was only suggesting a friendship—an intellectual equal. Nothing more.”
“He’s your friend; not mine!” Holland couldn’t imagine why on earth her mom was pushing for her to make a connection with an older man. It was crazy, even for her kooky mom.
Now, Jonas . . . he was Holland’s kind of guy. Well-mannered, sensitive, and he’d suffered a horrendous tragedy that most people could never fathom . . . let alone survive. Too bad Jonas was leaving town. She would have loved to have gotten to know him better.
And that kiss. Oh, my God! Holland had felt her knees go weak when she’d felt his tongue hesitantly touch hers. Jonas had abruptly broken the kiss and backed away from her. His expression was hard to read. But he seemed nervous. He most likely thought her legs were about to buckle, and was anxiously preparing to catch her. How chivalrous of him. She smiled at the sweet memory, knowing that she was going to be waiting anxiously for his call.
Deciding against talking about her newest crush—Jonas, Holland bent and gave Phoebe a kiss on the forehead, and then regarded her with concern. “You look tired, Mom. I’m going to bed and you should get some rest, too.”
“I am feeling a little sluggish.” She shut the laptop and closed her eyes. “All right, hon, sleep tight.” Phoebe closed her eyes and, in only a few moments, she was snoring softly.
Holland clicked the light switch near the door, darkening Phoebe’s bedroom. Those mosquito bites on her mother’s neck worried Holland. Some mosquitoes carried diseases, she’d heard. I hope my mom didn’t pick up some kind of rare infection.
Jonas was surprised to find Zac and Rosie still hanging around in the suite. “I thought you were going on a job interview,” he said to Zac with a smirk.
“George, the owner, said the place was packed; too busy for him to talk to Zac,” Rosie chimed in. Her scarf was slung over the back of a chair, and her exposed neck had fresh puncture wounds added to the collection.
“We’re leaving in about a half-hour. Wanna come along?” Rosie asked.
Zac waited for Jonas’s response, looking at him with a cold, sterile gaze.
Wherever Zac went, trouble erupted. Jonas didn’t want any part of trouble. “No, I’m going to hang back here and—”
“Fantasize about your sweetheart,” Zac said in a way that was intended to sound playful, but Jonas detected an undertone of hostility.
After Zac and Rosie left, Jonas tried to watch TV for a while, but he couldn’t concentrate on what was happening on the screen with his thoughts fixated on Holland.
He pictured her almond-shaped, honey brown eyes, and her soft pink lips. Those lips! He could still taste the sweetness of her kiss. A kiss that almost caused him to reveal the brutality of his nature.
He retrieved the slip of paper that she’d given him from his pocket. Stared at the numbers and the handwritten script of her full name: Holland Manning. It would be nice to hear her voice before he closed his eyes for the night. Glancing at the clock, he realized it was well past midnight. His eyes darted to the telephone. He shook his head. It would be rude and insensitive to call her at such a late hour.
But he couldn’t sleep; couldn’t stop thinking about her. Tonight might possibly be the last time he’d have an opportunity to talk to her. Though he hated to think negatively, there was the possibility that Madame Collette would not be able to break the spell. He could be doomed to continue his monstrous existence forever.
Having a justifiable excuse, he picked up the phone and called Holland.
She answered on the second ring.
“Hi. It’s Jonas. I apologize for calling at such a late hour. Did I wake you?”
“No, I’m glad you called. I was thinking about you.”
Her warm words soothed him instantly. Merely hearing Holland’s voice was like a ray of sunshine bursting through his bleak existence. His unspeakable burdens felt momentarily lifted, and he smiled broadly.
“I wanted to hear your voice before I leave tomorrow,” he said. “I don’t know what to expect in Florida. I may not have access to a phone once I get there.”
“Where are you gonna be working?”
Midnight Cravings Page 13
