by Sophia Sharp
“What about your cell phone?”
“It’s in my pocket.”
Hunter nodded. “Good.” And he ran out of the school with her trailing. Outside, Nora realized where they were headed: to the parking lot, where he presumably had his car.
Sure enough, Nora picked it out, standing in that same far corner as before. Hunter was at a dead-run, now. Nora struggled to keep up. He got to the car way before her and was already in the driver’s seat with the engine running when Nora opened the door.
As soon as Nora clicked on her seatbelt, he gunned the engine and sped out of the lot. He checked his rearview mirror every few seconds. Obsessively. There was an obvious tension he was feeling, and the silence that stretched between them didn’t help.
“What do you keep looking for?” Nora asked suddenly.
“If they’re coming,” he replied distractedly.
“The men from the office?” Nora asked. Hunter nodded quickly in reply. “But how would they even know we left?”
“Trust me. They know.”
There was such conviction in his words that Nora started looking over her shoulder, too. Everything seemed fine at first – there weren’t many cars on the road this close to the school at this hour – and nobody appeared to be coming after them. Just as Nora started to relax, a black car appeared far behind them. Nora squinted her eyes. It appeared to be getting larger, getting closer to them, very quickly.
“Hunter, the black car,” Nora said.
“I see it.” His face was the picture of concentration. Nora looked back again and was shocked to see the black car almost right behind them. The windows were tinted, so she couldn’t see inside, but she could make out the model. They were being chased by a black Cadillac.
“Hold on,” Hunter muttered and hit the accelerator.
Hard.
Nora cried out at the sudden acceleration and flew back against her seat. Hunter was doing sixty, seventy, eighty miles an hour on the small road. Parked cars flashed by the sides. Hunter swerved left and right to pass other vehicles on the road. Nora gripped the bottom of her seat so tightly she thought she’d never be able to pry her fingers loose.
Nora knew this stretch of road. It would narrow into one lane each way soon. And she saw a car not far in front of them. There was no way to pass it in this section. She looked back. The Cadillac was still on their tail.
Suddenly, Hunter switched into the oncoming lane. A yellow school bus hurtled toward them. It sounded its horn, loudly, urgently. Nora could see a small gap on her right, where the car that had been in front of them slowed down. The bus kept coming, the horn got louder as it came closer, and Nora screamed as they were about to hit it.
Hunter veered back into the right lane, just in front of the other car. The bus passed by, the reverberations from its passing shaking the Camaro. Nora’s breath caught. She stared at Hunter in amazement, but he didn’t look the least bit anxious. At least, not anxious about driving. He simply continued checking the mirror, monitoring the black car.
Nora saw an intersection ahead of them. With a stale green light. She gripped her seat tighter as Hunter sped up. He was going to try to run it. As they raced closer, Nora watched in horror as the light turned amber. They were too far to make it. But Hunter didn’t let up, didn’t slow down. If anything, he went even faster.
The light turned red. Time slowed for Nora.
She watched, paralyzed, as the cars lined up at the light started inching forward, ever so slowly, in the perpendicular direction. Hunter kept going. The other cars started accelerating, too, moving farther into the intersection. Hunter sped up. The gap between them and the intersection closed. Cars were coming from left and right. And Hunter wasn’t slowing down. He was going to go through.
Nora squeezed her eyes shut and prayed. The loud blare of angry horns sounded from all directions. She felt the vibrations of cars passing in front and behind them, heard the squeal of swerving tires, the screech of brakes. She was sure she was going to die.
Suddenly, all was quiet. The sound of horns came from behind them. She opened her eyes. They were driving on the other side of the crossing.
They’d made it!
An ear-shattering crash sounded from behind her. She spun around, looking out the back window. And, back in the distance of the intersection, she saw the black Cadillac smashed against the side of an orange truck.
She looked to Hunter, who let up on the accelerator. Slightly. He stared straight ahead, now. And he was tense. His jaw was tense, his posture was tense. Everything about him was tense.
“Hunter, we made it,” she said. “They got hit!”
“Not for long,” he answered. But then she saw him relax. Just a little.
“Hunter, you have to tell me what’s going on. Who were those people?”
“I didn’t want to bring you into this,” he answered.
“You have to tell me!”
“It wasn’t meant to be like this.”
“Hunter, you have to tell me!”
“I’m sorry, Maria.” He said that in the barest whisper, so quietly that Nora thought she misheard the words.
“What? Hunter, what is going on? Tell me!” Nora felt herself on the verge of tears. She was scared, emotionally drained. Terrified, really. And uncertain. “Who are you?”
He looked at her. His eyes were red, too. “I’m sorry, Nora. You deserve to know the truth. And you will. I’m going to tell you everything.”
Chapter Thirteen
~Revelations~
They sped down the freeway, away from the city where Nora had grown up. Where she’d met all her friends. Where she’d had her first crush. Where she’d gotten her first kiss. Where her family still was – her mother and father, her younger sister, her big loving dog. They sped away, and Nora looked sadly out the window.
“Where do you want me to start?” Hunter asked her.
“Start with who you are.” Nora turned to watch him and met his gaze. “Tell me who you are. I barely know a thing about you.”
He sighed and looked forward at the road. When he spoke, he didn’t look at her once. “I’m not like you, Nora,” he began. “Not entirely. I’m not…human.”
“What?” Her heart pounded wildly, threatening to burst from her chest. “What do you mean?”
“I’m something else,” he said sadly.
“Are there others like you?”
“Yes, there are.”
“Those men chasing us…are they like you?”
“Yes.”
She took a deep breath. Did she really want to hear this? But she resolved to know the truth and blew out a pent up breath. “Tell me.”
He sighed again. “If I do, you’ll want to run from me. You’ll want to run and hide forever. But you can’t, now. I wish I could let you go, Nora. I wish I’d let you go before. But if you go now, they’ll find you. No matter who you’re with, no matter where you go, they will find you. And I can’t let them do that.”
“Hunter.” She studied him. His distress was obviously sincere. She reached over to take his hand in hers. She held it tight. “You can tell me.”
He paused for a long moment and took a deep breath. “There’s folklore about me. About…things like me. Legends and stories that are told to scare children into behaving. Tales about things that go bump in the night.”
“Would I know them?”
“I’m sure you would.” He tried to pull his hand away, but she wouldn’t let him. His skin was ice cold silk.
“Tell me. I’m not afraid.”
“The dream world I showed you,” he started. “It’s restricted to those of my kind. We’re the only ones who have direct access to it, who can go there at will. Humans…they can only drift in and out without realizing it.” He shook his head before continuing. “But I discovered that I had the ability to draw humans in. To explore their dreams, together with them. Like I did with you.
“When I learned to do it, I thought I was unique. I thought I w
as one of a kind. But it turned out that every one of my kind could do it. Everyone could draw humans in like that. Except that…it’s prohibited. By ancient creed, we’re forbidden to do that.
“When I brought you in, I thought we were safe. I haven’t had contact with any of the others for a very long time. I had hoped most had thought me dead, or dying. Or had long forgotten about me. I still don’t know how we drew their attention.
“It shouldn’t have even worked that way. We entered your dream. They couldn’t have been watching. They know the rules, too. They abide by them better than I do. For them, the creed stands above all else. Above their own lives. They weren’t allowed to be there, either. But they were – or at least, one of them was – and he saw us.
“And for that, I’m sorry, Nora. I’m sorry for dragging you into all this. I’m sorry for my carelessness. I know I should never have done it. I should never have shown you what I did. Believe me, I fought the urge as much as I could.
“But there was something about you…something that tugged at me and begged me to show you that world. Maybe I was imagining things. Maybe I wanted to believe that you needed to see it. Maybe I needed to believe it. But it was my own shortcoming, my own deficiency that put us in this situation. And for that, I’m truly sorry.”
She looked over at him and pulled her hand away. She had to have some space. He seemed hurt, but didn’t say anything. He simply drove on, looking straight ahead. “And what is ‘your kind,’ exactly, Hunter?”
“My kind.” He laughed softly. “Those who are like me, of course. Those who the stories are written about and legends are twisted from. We are a separate race, Nora, removed from humanity long ago. Each of us is given…abilities…that transcend what a regular human can do. But it goes both ways. We have weaknesses unique to us. Some of them, I’m sure, you can even laugh at.”
“I won’t laugh.” She could promise him that, since nothing about this scenario amused her. “Just tell me the truth.”
“That’s what I said I’d do, isn’t it?” He sighed again. She could see he was struggling to form the words. “I’ll start with the physical. We’re usually taller than your kind. By a head or more, at least. I’d actually be considered fairly short.” He laughed, but it was a forced laugh. “Our skin is also much lighter. ‘Elven skin,’ some call it, but that gives it unnecessary embellishment.”
“It shines, though,” she said gently. “Sometimes, I’ve seen yours absolutely radiate in the light.”
“That’s when you should have stayed away. We’re most dangerous, then.”
“Tell me,” she pressed. “Tell me why you say that.”
“We’re stronger than humans. More agile, too. Our bones are nearly unbreakable, but they’re unbelievably light. It gives us a certain…grace. Our balance is better because of it. I’m what, nearly a foot taller than you? And yet I can guarantee that I weigh less than you do.
“Our vision is also better. When I look at your face, I can see every imperfection that makes you so unique. Every flaw that makes you so beautiful.”
“You…find me beautiful?” she stumbled, amazed.
“Of course I do, Nora. Of course I do.”
Her heart fluttered. Maybe she was developing feelings for him. It was the only thing that would explain her sitting there. If she were sane, if she had any shred of common sense, she would be clawing at the door, desperate to escape. She would be calling the police, telling them she’d been abducted, and fifteen cruisers would be chasing them down the highway already.
Instead, she just sat there in silence.
“We’re here,” Hunter announced.
She looked across at him. He still looked straight ahead, and despite having parked the car, kept his hands on the wheel. His shoulder slumped. He looked tired.
Maybe he was as tired as she felt.
But she knew it wasn’t a physical weariness that touched him. It was an emotional one.
She studied his face. His skin looked so smooth, so delicate. So white. His dark eyes made a perfect contrast, as did his pitch-black hair. She realized for the first time that he had near-perfect cheekbones, not too high and not too low, and that his nose and jaw were both strong and handsome. He was handsome. But he was also something else.
“You’re a vampire,” she whispered.
He cringed. “I hate that name. Hate that title. Vampire. That’s what human folklore would call me. A bloodsucker, a monster, a predator, a killer. But it’s not who I am.”
He paused, but her eagerness wouldn’t allow her to wait him out. “Who are you then?” Her hushed whisper barely traveled across the small space, but she knew he heard her.
“I am from a race known as the Vassiz. An ancient race, who have sometimes been confused with vampires throughout the centuries. Though, I assure you, I am no vampire.”
“You feed on human blood?” She should be terrified, saying that. She should be terrified, sitting so close to him. She should be terrified, except…she wasn’t.
All she felt was a cool, dark calm.
“Yes,” he admitted. “Every time, I try to fight it, but…I can’t. Morals and ethics mean nothing when you’re starving. We battle depression between feedings. The longer we go without blood, the less confident we get, the less graceful we become, the less power we have. We become shells of our former selves, and we become obsessive about finding food. My only solace is how infrequently I need to feed.”
“How often do you do it?” she asked.
“Twice a year, only.”
“And…” she gulped, “…when was the last time you fed?”
Despite himself, Hunter smiled. “Less than a week ago.”
All of a sudden, everything clicked into place for Nora. All of a sudden, everything made sense.
His arrival here.
The unusual murder.
The animal warning.
And his transformation…after.
“You’re the animal,” she breathed. And for the first time in his presence, a shiver ran down her spine.
He nodded. “I am, aren’t I? And you’re the only one who knows. Usually I don’t leave my prey for people to find, but I got careless.”
“The hitman,” Nora continued. “You’re the one who killed him!”
“Yes. I try to balance things out in choosing my targets. The man had a body list at least twenty long on him. A contract killer, he would have struck soon had I not acted. And then some time again. It’s a small solace I can take in thinking I might have prevented some deaths.”
“Hunter?” She looked over at him. “Are your kind born that way, or can they be transformed?”
“Both,” he answered.
“And you?”
“I was born a human.”
Everything clicked again. She understood his struggle, understood his morals. Understood why he tried to fight something that came so naturally.
She had one last question, though.
“How old are you?”
Hunter smiled sadly and turned his head. For the first time in what seemed like eons, their eyes met. “Do you want to know my age, or how long ago I was born?”
“What’s the difference?”
“We stop aging once we’re transformed.”
“Tell me both.”
“My human age,” he said, “is eighteen years old.”
“And how long ago were you born?”
“I was brought into this world four hundred and twenty-nine years ago.”
Too much blood rushed to Nora’s head, and everything swam for an instant before going black.
Chapter Fourteen
~Confrontations~
“Nora? Nora, wake up.”
Nora opened her eyes to find Hunter standing over her. She was lying down on a hard, damp surface. She blinked. She was indoors, and the interior reminded her of a wooden cabin.
She pushed herself up and looked around. She was in a small room. A single window let in the outside light. The walls and
ceiling were both made of wooden planks, but they were heavy with age. The room was barren. Mildew grew thick on the walls, and the floor she was lying on was dirty. Heavy dust filled the air, causing her to cough.
“Where are we?” she managed eventually.
“An old grain mill,” Hunter said. Nora noticed a closed door in one of the walls. “Nobody comes here anymore. I thought it’d be a good place to regroup.”
Nora struggled to her feet, eyeing Hunter warily. “How come you didn’t tell me we were coming here?”
“You passed out before I had the chance. I carried you from the car.”
“You carried me? How far in the woods are we?”
“An hour from the road. Nobody should bother us here for some time. We should have tonight, at least, before we need to move on.”
The heavy clunk of machinery came from the adjacent room. She went to the door, cautiously edged it open, and felt as if she’d stepped into the past. In a vast, largely empty room, huge spinning pulleys and belts worked overhead while metal poles, positioned horizontally, rotated quickly. Gears and levers dotted the floor of the room, providing control over the machinery. Much of the metal was red with rust, but it still moved, clanging and groaning along.
“It’s still running,” she marveled.
“It never stopped,” Hunter shrugged. “The river runs year-round, and as long as it spins the waterwheel, the mechanisms in here keep going.”
“The river?”
“Yes. You can hear it, can’t you?”
Nora strained her ears and realized she could make out the sound of rushing water nearby. Hunter walked to another door, right by a window, and motioned her over. When she approached, he pushed it open, revealing the outdoors.
Beautiful vegetation surrounded them. They stood at the bottom of a narrow gorge, with a rocky slope to one side and thick forested trees on the other. Under her feet, right beneath the building, a river roared with life. The sun shone through the leaves of the forest, making shadows dance along the ground. It felt like they were hundreds of miles from civilization.
“So,” Hunter said, once Nora turned back inside.
“So,” Nora echoed.
