Take My Breath Away

by Lari Smythe

  Chapter 8

  I really wasn't all that thrilled with Jason's plan, but I couldn't think of anything better and we really did need to check this guy out. Instead of risking Benjamin and Elizabeth's disapproval, we'd gone out underwater through the escape route. It was a good thing I'd taken a breath, because it turned out the tunnel was way too long for a human. I'd given Jason my air—he tried to turn it into a kiss—seriously. In typical male fashion, Jason enjoyed me in my underwear a little too much as I wrung out my clothes. I wasn't disappointed in how beautiful he was either if I was being completely honest.

  Our clothes were still damp, which translated into Jason being cold. Me racing through the woods with him on my back didn't help. I slowed as we approached the bar.

  "Crap," Jason groaned, "no bikes."

  He was right, the parking lot was empty except for a black sedan near the sign post. Judging by the amount of dust on the hood, it had probably been there for days, maybe even weeks.

  "There," I said, pointing toward the far side of the building.

  We'd come up on the place from the rear, and leaning up against the back of the bar, were two motorcycles.

  "Duke's?" Jason surmised. "No way we're that lucky."

  "Why not?" I slid Jason down off my back.

  "By the way, thanks for the lift."

  I stuck out my tongue.

  "Okay, so we go inside, see if Duke's there and then—"

  "We?" I said. "I don't think so."

  "You're right," Jason said. "They might know what you are so I'll go."

  "Oh no—"

  "You can hear me inside, right? I'll go in, see who's there and then duck into the bathroom."

  I didn't like it, but he had a point, I didn't want to walk into a trap. "Alright, but the first sign of trouble you beat it out of there. I'll be waiting at the backdoor."

  "Right, no problem."

  Brave of him to say, but I could hear the apprehension in his voice. Despite that, he went around the corner of the building toward the front door. The place was open, or at least unlocked, the rusted door hinges screeched as Jason went inside.

  "Mind if I use the head?" Jason said.

  "Whatever." The deep, voice sounded like the bartender, Bart.

  Jason's footsteps trailed off toward the back of the bar. Another door squeaked—presumably the bathroom.

  "Oh, hey," Jason's voice shot up an octave.

  "Don't I know you?" came another gruff voice.

  "Uh yea, we sort of met earlier tonight."

  "No," I hissed, that's not the plan. I raced to the backdoor.

  "Right, the game of pool. What happened to your arm?"

  "Ah, it's nothing, sprained my shoulder fooling around."

  "Where's that cute little filly of yours?"

  One of the toilets flushed, then quickly the other.

  "She's outside—"

  "Outside?"

  "Well, at the bar—the place is deserted."

  That was my signal that the coast was clear. I slipped in through the backdoor and stopped just inside the room near the pool tables.

  "Where is everybody?" Jason said.

  "Foreigners, who knows."

  There was running water from the sinks.

  "I thought you guys were like a gang or something."

  "Yeah, they were, I'm just local."

  "They been here long?"

  "Can't say—I ain't seen em before last night."

  "Well, I gotta head out—oh, about the dance—not such a good idea."

  "Yep, I'd feel the same if she were mine. Nice meetin' ya."

  "And hey, nice to hear you weren't part of that gang, nothing but trouble there."

  "Thanks."

  I stepped back into the shadows as they came out of the bathroom.

  "There a place to stay around here?" Jason said. "We were thinking of taking in some of the scenery."

  "There's Kelly's in town, but I'd stay away from there, you wouldn't want to put your lady anywhere near those biker dudes. Normally I'd recommend the Faulkner place, but it's closed for renovations. Fraid there ain't much else. Few miles up the road there's another bed and breakfast place—can't remember the name though."

  "Cool, we'll check it out. Thanks."

  They walked into the room with the pool tables.

  "Hey," I said, "there you are."

  Jason smiled. "You remember Duke."

  "Hi."

  "Don't suppose you'd have time to teach me a few of those shots?" Duke said.

  "It's kind of late, maybe some other time. But hey, just pick up a high school geometry book. I bet you can figure it out."

  "Maybe I'll do that."

  Jason and I walked to the front door and then out into the parking lot.

  "Guess you heard," Jason said. "He doesn't know anything. Now what?"

  "Kelly's?" I shrugged.

  "Sure, why not? We made it this far."

  "We don't have to—"

  "It's cool, I can hold my own." Jason lifted his sling.

  "What does that mean?" I said, a little perturbed by his tone.

  "He said it wasn't far, maybe we could just walk?"

  "Fine."

  We began to see houses after only half a mile. Up ahead, in the glow of a traffic light, there was a faded green sign that read, 'Kelly's Bed and Breakfast'. As we past a wooded area between houses, a girl came stumbling out of the underbrush. From her clothes, she was one of the bikers. Jason and I both did a double take and then quickly scanned the surroundings.

  There was a motorcycle parked just inside the tree line and I could hear snoring from under one of the pines. For all intense purposes, the girl was alone.

  "Hide," I whispered to Jason and he ducked in behind a tree. "Hey," I said to the girl.

  "Who are you?" she mumbled, staggering forward. She was wearing jeans, boots, but nothing but a leather vest on top. The cold morning air had turned her translucent skin to goose flesh. There were no visible wounds from one of our kind feeding on her, but her long hair covered her neck.

  "Izzy. I'm a fortune teller."

  "Seriously?" her voice perked up. "Like you can really see the future?"

  "Yeah, I'm really good at it too."

  "That's like awesome, I bet you—" She collapsed against a tree and hurled her guts out. The vomit smelled more like alcohol than anything else.

  "You want to know if you're pregnant?" I offered.

  "Like how'd you know that?"

  I winked.

  "Oh, right." She patted her pockets. "Like I'm flat broke, but—"

  "Not a problem, it looks like it's important." I stepped toward her. "Don't be alarmed, my hands are very cold. They do that when I'm going to do a reading—it's how I connect with the future."

  She slid down the trunk of the tree into her vomit and reached her hands out toward me. "Sure, makes sense."

  "Okay," I said stooping down next to her. "Relax, take deep breaths."

  She closed her eyes and rested her head back against the tree.

  "Relax." I brushed back her hair with the back of my hand and there it was, the bite mark. Funny thing about vampire legends—we used them to hide what we were, like wearing silver jewelry for example, but we also brought the legends with us. I remember when I first learned I was a vampire, thinking I couldn't go out in the sun or I'd burn to a crisp. Obviously this vampire brought the idea of feeding off the jugular. It was all the proof I probably needed, but maybe I could learn more. "What's your name?"

  "Debbi."

  "Okay, Debbi, nice and easy."

  She flinched when I took her hands, but not as much as I expected.

  I waited, giving her time to relax and then just probed—ever so slightly—for what she felt at this moment. Sick—her stomach tossed and turned—tequila, too much tequila. It almost made me feel sick. I reminded myself to keep the connection one way, not to expose who and what I was to her.

  "Alright, let's see about that baby," I whispered.
I pressed deeper into her subconscious probing, listening. Confusion, blurred colors and shapes, the acrid smell of marijuana. "Focus," I murmured. Her fear intensified the deeper I went. Her thoughts were drowned in loud music, laughter, drugs, sex. Suddenly, her body tensed as if she knew I was looking for some dark secret.

  "Who are you!" a sinister voice boomed from her memory. "What are you doing?" A harsh, blurry marble face blasted through the fog, knocking me back.

  I released her hands and fell back on the ground.

  "You alright?" Jason said, helping me to my feet with his good arm.

  "Yeah. Get out of sight."

  Jason slipped back into the brush.

  "I'm ready," Debbi said, seemingly oblivious to our mental exchange.

  I stooped back down in front of her. "You're not pregnant."

  "Oh."

  "You sound disappointed."

  "I guess."

  "Before you try to get pregnant, you have to give up the drugs. If you don't, your baby will be sickly and die before she's grown."

  "She?" Debbi smiled. "Yeah, I guess you're right." She crawled up the tree trunk, her boobs sloshing side-to-side like cups of Jell-O, and then brushed herself off. Suddenly she flinched toward the bite mark on her neck. "No, I don't want to—I don't know—I can't." Her eyes glazed over and her placid facial features turned hard, angry.

  Before she had a chance to look at me, I darted into the underbrush, flung Jason on my back and ran. I wasn't sure what was happening—if maybe someone—the someone—could see through her eyes, but I didn't want to take any chances. We had what we came for.