The brothers stand there watching me feed with raised eyebrows.
Hmm. Should I make them forget everything? Honestly, the amount of time they’ve spent knowing I’m a vampire—seven days or so—would be really hard for me to eradicate. Aurélie could do it, but I’m not about to drag these two to Washington. Screw it. I’m quite sure they’re well beyond wanting to ‘destroy me.’ Besides, people already consider them ‘the weird brothers,’ and if they told anyone they went with a vampire girl into an alternate dimension at the bottom of a cavern where we fought a troll-like thing, who would believe them?
They’d wind up in a mental hospital.
Once I finish feeding, I nod for the boys to follow and hurry down the trail away from the caverns. “Okay. So… things.”
“Umm, is this where you make us forget everything?” asks Ben.
“Well, I was thinking about that. We spent like a week in there. I’m still new at this and I don’t know if I can erase so much time, saving each other’s lives more than once, and everything. Besides. I trust you guys. You’re both smart enough to not want to spend the bulk of your adulthood in a mental facility.”
They laugh.
“No, shit,” mutters Cody. “No one, not even Mom, would believe that happened.”
“I’m still not entirely sure we didn’t just spend an hour on the floor of Garrett’s cave while he messed with our heads to make us think we experienced another world.” I sigh.
“Why would he do that?” asks Cody.
“I dunno. Why do ‘eccentric’ old people do anything bizarre.”
“Yeah.” Ben nods. “Your secret’s safe. Thanks for saving my ass.”
I smile. “Thanks for saving mine.”
We share a brief group hug before splitting off to our respective RVs. I’m so worn out and grateful to be back here in one piece—without my family knowing anything happened—that I stroll right into the main bedroom and peel off my disgusting clothes in front of my sleeping parents. Besides, if they sit up and see me standing there naked, they will forget it happened.
I grab a towel, wrap myself in it, snag a long T-shirt, and duck into the bathroom.
The shower is fawesome. For the first few minutes, the water rolling off me is so black I feel like a melting licorice popsicle. Sierra’s first shower in this thing took about twenty minutes, so I figure that’s my time limit. I enjoy the first five just standing there basking in the water before reaching for the soap and lathering up.
Rattling comes from the door.
“Occupied,” I say.
More rattling.
“I’m in the shower,” I call, a little louder.
Silence. I resume soaping up.
Click.
Sam barges in, tosses a screwdriver in the sink, and proceeds to drop his PJ pants and sit on the toilet. I about shriek and face the corner of the shower, my back to him with both hands over my rear end. Argh! Little brothers. I can’t even enjoy a shower at four in the morning! I’m not sure if I should be embarrassed or furious at the imminent stench he’s going to trap me with.
Well, I don’t have to breathe, so maybe that’s not too much of a problem.
I bonk my head into the corner of the shower stall repetitively, grumbling at wasting water time. He better not still do this to me when he’s older. I peek over my shoulder. Through the foggy sliding glass, I can sorta make out his blurry shape on the bowl, slumped forward like he’s asleep. Wow, I’ve heard of sleepwalking before but sleep-pooping?
“Sam, you okay?” I ask.
“Pooping,” he mutters.
“Are you awake?”
“Yeah, but tired. Sorry. Couldn’t hold it. I’m not looking. Eyes are closed.”
I resume washing myself but still keep my back to the room. It won’t be long before he’s grown up. He’ll eventually be an old man… and then be gone. As awkward and irritating as nine-year-old Sam can be, maybe I should treasure these moments while they last. If this happened to Ashley or Michelle (not that either of them have a little brother with a weak concept of personal space) I’d find it hilarious.
Really, all I can do is laugh at the situation.
At least until I can’t breathe.
“Good grief Sam, what did you eat?”
He chuckles, proud of himself.
Ugh. Boys.
26
Catching Up
The next afternoon, I awake in bed, safe within my sanctuary at the back end of the RV.
General lethargy is a good indication that the sun’s in hell mode again today, but after six full days of walking, I’m totally fine with being trapped in bed. My iPhone says it’s 4:02 p.m. Hmm. Slept in a little. Not surprising given the week I had. What is surprising, however, is the lack of pain. Still, I don’t recommend Troll Chiropractic.
I wonder how my friends and Hunter are doing back home. Adding an extra seven days to this vacation that didn’t change the calendar date is a bizarre sensation and it makes me want to hop in the driver’s seat and take us home right now. Except for that whole dying a fiery death issue.
A movie while lounging in bed is more like it for vacation. No more supernatural weirdness please. I’m off duty.
“Sarah?” asks Mom, with a knock at the door, around 5:30. “Are you awake?”
“Yeah.” I pause the movie. “What’s up?”
“If you’re hungry, there’s a really annoying woman two spaces over who keeps trying to sell me a subscription to this health shake powder stuff.”
I laugh.
“Would you mind asking her to forget we exist?”
“Sure thing, Mom. Let me know when the sun’s in a better mood.”
“Okay, hon. It is a bit hot today. We went to the caverns again. The kids are worn out.”
I wince, thinking of my sisters and brothers near a Beast. Then again, he can’t wake during the day, cave or not. “Cool.”
“Okay. Gonna get started on dinner. I’d ask if you want to help, but it’s too damn bright.”
“Thanks for the warning,” I say.
A movie and a half carries me to evening, when it’s safe for me to leave the bedroom. After a week stuck in the same T-shirt and jeans, I pull a Sophia and put on a sundress before heading out barefoot. Mom and Dad recline in the shade under the awning, watching the littles run around with the Frisbee. The remains of dinner litter the small folding table, looks like grilled chicken with something green.
“That’s cute,” says Mom. “I didn’t think you still had dresses.”
“Did you smuggle a surgeon into the bedroom to remove those jeans?” asks Dad.
“Ha. Ha.”
“Careful flying in that, dear,” says Dad. “Anyone could look right up and see your underwear.”
I shrug. “No they can’t. I’m not wearing any.”
Dad sputters his tea all over his chest. Mom blinks at me.
“Gotcha. I’m teasing by the way. And trust me, I don’t fly in dresses… or overly loose sweat pants. Already made that mistake once. So where’s the health nut I need to erase?”
Mom points at a smaller RV two spaces over where a late-twenties woman with dark hair tends to three sub-five-year-olds in a kiddie pool.
“Oh, seriously? You want me to bite a soccer mom? Ugh. She’s going to taste like peach green tea.”
The parents laugh.
“At least get her to stop trying to give me sign up forms,” mutters Mom.
“You okay, hon?” Dad brushes tea off his shirt and looks up at me. “Kinda making me think you’re either exhausted or in a weird mood.”
“Just had a really crazy dream of walking in the woods. Feels like I spent a whole week marching cross country. Trying to convince my brain it happened in a dream, not for real.” Hopefully that’s close enough to the truth not to trip Mom’s lie detector. I never have been a good liar. Too guilty too fast. Though, this half-truth is for their benefit, not mine, so I’m not guilty at all. And, maybe if I keep telling myself that magi
cal portals into other realms didn’t really happen, I’ll eventually forget it.
“Sare!” shouts Sierra, after winging the Frisbee at me.
I catch it. “Looks like I’m being paged.” I hurry out to the field and toss the thing back to Sierra, making her run a bit to catch it.
We play Frisbee until it gets too dark to see it flying. I take the opportunity to go say hello to the young mother. She’s super excited about these ‘healthy’ nutrient shakes. While I don’t bite her, I do implant a notion that she doesn’t need to talk to my parents about buying stuff again.
That done, I take the littles for a walk around the campground to spend some outdoor time with them.
An hour or so later, we’re all done with walking around.
We return to the RV and hang out, talking about their third trip to the caves. Once the kids are asleep and the parents retreat to the bedroom for some movie time, I head outside (having added yoga pants under my dress) and fly a couple miles west to a small town. From the air, it kinda looks like someone’s game of Civilization. The downtown area is almost entirely made up of neat square blocks arranged in long rows from east to west. A few signs tell me the town’s called Whitehall, and it doesn’t take me long to find a snack—a lone figure wandering around a football field at the northern edge of the built-up area. Houses and other buildings continue for some miles, though much more spread out.
Turns out, it’s Whitehall High School, and I just ate the groundskeeper.
He’ll be fine. Though I should probably send him to the hospital to get checked out. His blood tasted like cheap frozen pizza. Must be my association with high school cafeteria food.
Anyway, being in town offers a certain particular advantage I was hoping for: cellular signal. I stroll around the field beside the school, enjoying the feel of grass between my toes, and start off a barrage of texts to Ashley, Michelle, and Hunter.
Basically, I tell them I’m fine, all is normal, and we’ll be back in a few days. Sibs are good, though Sierra is clearly ready to go home. Camping is kinda lame, but I guess it’s family time and all. Hunter misses me. Ash and Michelle are both overwhelmed by their jobs. Ash sums up this summer with: ‘I hate adulting!’
‹How R U coping w road trip?› sends Ashley.
I laugh. ‹Oh, it’s fine except for the trolls.›
Hunter replies with ‹LOL.›
‹Yeah, they’re freakin’ everywhere,› sends Michelle.
‹Don’t feed the trolls,› bleeps in from Ashley.
I did feed the troll. Four feet of iron straight to the heart. ‹Right. I won’t.›
We chat for a while more, which consists mostly of:
Ashley talking about these adorable, but sickly, kittens she’s taking care of.
Michelle complaining about one of the lawyers at her practice.
Hunter glad to hear from me after a few days of no contact.
Oh, and he misses me.
I tease him a little about having to step up his game due to competition from Ben. His replies come short and confused, so I end the joke early saying Ben’s only a fourteen-year-old with crush issues. Oh, and he fancies himself a vampire hunter.
All three of them send back variations of ‘lmao.’
‹U gotta tell us the full story,› sends Ashley.
‹I will. In person.›
‹When are you coming back?› asks Hunter.
‹One more day before we hit the road.› I glance down and sweep my foot back and forth across the grass. I’m still tired from walking. Or tired of walking. Montana’s nice, but I crave familiar surroundings. Dad’s gotta move the RV again anyway to refill the water tank. Stupid campground doesn’t have hookups at the parking spots. I might try to gently convince him to just go home tomorrow.
I think maybe even Dad’s had his fill of this road trip. We trade texts until they all want to go to sleep.
When I return to the RV, I find my father outside alone, gazing up at the clouds.
“Hey,” he says, trying to be quiet and not wake the kids. “There you are.”
“Yep.” I flap my arms. “Here I am. Flew to Whitehall for cell signal and a snack. Wow, you’re up late.”
“How are your friends?”
“Doing okay. Are you?”
He looks up at me for a long moment. “I guess. Still trying to figure out how you grew up so damn fast.”
I chuckle and sit on his lap. “Yeah, well. Stuff happens. Not quite the same, is it?”
“What’s that?”
“The road trips.”
He sighs. “Yeah. Bit different after fifteen years.”
“Fifteen?”
“We started when you were three. One little random idea became a ‘family tradition.’”
“Aww, Dad. It’s not a bad tradition. Honestly, the caverns are pretty cool, but I think the kids might like something a little more exciting. Sam would love Gettysburg.”
“We did that already.”
“Yeah, but Sam wasn’t around then.”
Dad brushes a hand over my hair. “You’re all growing up so fast. There’s too many places to go and not enough years.”
“Well…” I fake an innocent face. “I could ask a few questions of Aurélie on how to do certain things and add three more vampires to the family so they stay little.”
“And I could kick your ass,” says Sierra from the window above us.
I crack up.
Dad’s expression is too worried. Oops. He didn’t realize I was kidding.
“Joke, Dad. I could never do that to them. It involves death first, remember?”
He exhales in relief. “Right. Joke. Guess that means I’m tired if I missed it.” He leans his head back to peer up at the window. “And what are you doing out of bed at this hour?”
“Eavesdropping,” says Sierra.
That gets a laugh from Dad. “Go back to bed, Sierra.” He pats me lightly on the back twice, a ‘please get up’ gesture. “And I think I’m going to take my own advice. Don’t stay up too late, okay?”
I hug him. “I won’t, Dad. Night.”
He pauses on his way inside and turns back to hug me. “I love you, Sarah. Thanks for putting up with this trip, even if it was boring as hell for you.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. It was nice.” I squeeze him. “Love you too, Dad.”
27
Love Bites
My family dives eagerly back into normal life when we return home.
Sierra’s committed to making up for a week’s lost video gaming. Sam goes straight to Daryl’s house. Sophia throws on tights and spends the day going over stuff from her dance class. It’s Mom’s turn to spend hours soaking in the bathtub. Dad disappears into his office, but he’s unwinding with a video game on the computer, not working.
I’m still ‘jeaned out,’ so I spend the whole day in an oversized T-shirt, then throw on a dress when it gets dark. I’m sure there’s a trick to flying in a dress that I haven’t figured out. Maybe if I fly headfirst at the ground, then swing around to put my feet down, I’ll be good. Flip flops will fall off in midair and I’d feel like a dork wearing sneakers and socks with a dress, so I go for ballet flats. Hmm. Those might still fly off me in midair. Boots? Bleh. Screw it. I’ll skip shoes. Not like I’ll be walking much.
A little after nine, I fly to the mall and practice coming in for a landing without giving the world a view of my underpants. The headfirst dive, quick flip, and slow glide straight down works like a charm. I still catch a bit of billow, but it’s not too bad.
I find what I’m looking for—a plush Snoopy—in one of the shops on the upper level. Hunter used to have one of those until his asshole father ripped it up because ‘boys don’t need stuffed animals’ or some macho bullshit like that. Since that man is probably never coming back, I think it’s time Hunter had a replacement Snoopy. I doubt he’s going to sleep with it, but even sitting on a shelf, if it makes him think of me, it’s a win.
He should be getti
ng off work at Mi Tierra soon. I hug the Snoopy plush on the flight across town to Woodinville. Again, I use the trees in the small cemetery where Dalton locked me in a mausoleum overnight to land in the shadows.
Hunter’s giant Buick is easy enough to spot in the parking lot. I perch on the hood with the plush concealed behind me. Ooh. I want to see him so bad, it’s hard to make myself wait out here. I can’t believe he still wants me despite my being a vampire. In the span of six minutes, I go from adoring everything to crying in guilt to all revved up and back again. There’s a reasonable chance I’m going to drag him into the back seat. Or I might just hold him for an hour.
Okay, Sarah. Get a grip. You’ve only been away a week. No, check that, two weeks.
He emerges from the back door a few minutes after ten and trudges over. Once he spots me, he hurries up to a jog and scoops me into a spinning hug.
“Hey you.” He grins. “Welcome home.”
I lose myself in his kiss for a few minutes, but it’s not long enough.
“It’s good to see you again,” says Hunter.
“Got you something.”
“From the caverns?”
“Naw. Their gift shop was kinda basic.” I hold up the Snoopy.
He blinks at it. Part of him wants to laugh, a bit of him cringes at the memory it triggers of his father. His emotions settle in a few seconds, and he takes it with a guilty smile and a little blush. “Thanks.”
“I remember you said you had one.” I wink. “And no, I don’t expect you to take it to bed.”
Hunter laughs.
I pull him down by a finger in his shirt collar. “I expect you to take me to bed.”
His eyebrows go up.
Hunter winds up spending the night in my room.
I hung a sock on the knob, which hopefully prevented any sibling invasions before I woke up. The sun is in a good mood today, or maybe it’s more accurate to say the clouds are feeling helpful. I enjoy lying there with him for a while, both of us wearing only the sheets. Eventually, he wakes up.
The Last Family Road Trip (Vampire Innocent Book 4) Page 20
