Altered

by Shelly Crane

  “I need something from you.”

  I sighed, my hope falling all over again. “I’m not having sex with you—”

  “Not that. Come on. I’ll get us a room.”

  “I’m not…”

  He started to turn. “I need you to help me. I haven’t fed in so long. I’m weak. Get me to the motel room. I’ll get you dinner and a place to stay if you’ll just help me without question.”

  I stalled. He hadn’t fed? That was a weird way to say he hadn’t eaten. He growled. Actually growled. “Why would I save you only to hurt you myself?” Good point. “Besides, I can barely walk. I’m not going to be of any use to a woman tonight.” He grinned devilishly and I knew that when he was at his best, all cleaned up and on his game, he was a force to be reckoned with. “You’re safe...for now.”

  I sighed, biting my lip and knowing that this was my only chance at getting to see Clara again.

  “Fine.” I leaned down and put my shoulder under his arm and helped pull him up. I looked over to see my attacker still out cold on the pavement. But his breath puffed in the chilled night air, so I knew he was alive. I shook my head and looked over at the man I was holding. I hadn’t realized how tall he was, or how close he was. I tried to move back some but there was nowhere to go unless I let him go. I sighed, my puff of breath meeting his in the small space between us as he stared down at me. He seemed puzzled by something. Almost an angry puzzlement, like he was fascinated and couldn’t stop, but didn’t like what he was finding.

  “Let’s get a room, blue eyes.”

  “Fay,” I said and gulped at how affected it sounded. I coughed and hoisted him up a little as I started to help him across the street. “And if you think I’m sleeping in the same bed with you—”

  “I don’t sleep. I just need to rest. The chair will do just fine.”

  “You don’t sleep,” I drawled and didn’t believe a word of it. “You look as if you could keel over at any minute, buddy.”

  “As soon as I feed, I’ll be fine.”

  “Then let’s eat first,” I insisted because I was starving and if he was offering up a free meal, I was taking. Though by the looks of him, I didn’t know how he was doing so badly if he had the means and money to take care of himself. Why not just go eat if he was so hungry? “Let’s grab something quick at the diner at the motel. That okay with you?”

  “Whatever, blue eyes,” he grumbled and closed his eyes as he let me guide him. When we came to the diner’s door, a mother and her child were coming out. The little girl was crying about something, obviously upset. The mom was coddling her in an amused but exasperated way that showed she’d been at it for a while. “You can’t only eat pie for dinner. It doesn’t work that way, Carline.”

  I snorted. That’s why she was so mad—her mother saddled that precious little thing with a name like Carline. I sympathized. Fay wasn’t exactly a young name, and then when you added my middle name Annie to the mix, I was doomed to hick nickname hell. Fay Annie Hopkins. I’d been picked on a lot for it. Fannie…Ah, how I hated that nickname. Clara and my parents especially let that stick and wouldn’t let it go no matter how much I said I hated it.

  Now…I’d give anything to hear Clara call me Fannie. Maybe not. I’d never felt this hopeless in my entire life. Even though I knew where she was, I felt like she was drifting further and further away and I’d never catch up to her. I didn’t know if she was safe or happy or…

  My rescuer sucked in a breath beside me and I looked over to see his eyes now open. He watched me, his mouth slightly open. His tongue snaked out to taste his bottom lip, but he grimaced. “Oh, gah… What are you thinking about?”

  I felt my brows gravitate toward each other in confusion. “What?”

  “You’re…you’re sad. I can see it. What are thinking about?”

  Before I could answer, the little girl bumped into his leg. She looked up at him like he had dropped her lollipop. “I’m sorry,” the mother said, but chuckled and took the daughter’s hand. “Carline, say you’re sorry.”

  “Sorry, sir,” the little girl, who couldn’t be more than four, spouted sarcastically.

  They walked away and the man stood there, his mouth open, and watched them go. Then he broke into the biggest smile. His chest began to shake and he looked up at the sky, shaking his head. “Eli, you bastard. I bet you’re just loving this, aren’t you?”

  His words were harsh, but he was still smiling. I was confused, but he was obviously having some revelation. I waited and eventually he looked back over and down at me. “Ready to eat, blue eyes?”

  “Uh…are you in need of some medication or…”

  He laughed hard. “Ah, man. We are going to get along so well. Come on.” He tugged me into the diner. Or dragged me really because he could barely hold himself up. He slammed into a booth and I slid into the seat across from him. The diner was clean for all intents and purposes, but would be receiving no awards for service or cuisine. I could easily see that from where we sat.

  As the middle-aged woman waddled over and asked what we wanted to drink, he waved her off and said he didn’t want anything. I looked blankly at him. “I thought you were so hungry. What do you mean you don’t want anything?”

  He seemed to think about that and then grimaced. “Oh, yeah. Bollocks.” I scoffed, but he smiled at her and began his list. “I’ll take the strongest coffee you’ve got, a stack of flapjacks, and a side of bacon—enough pig to feed a small army.”

  “So a lot of bacon, then,” she drawled sarcastically.

  “You went to Harvard, I see.”

  “And I’ll take,” I rushed on and scanned the menu quickly for something, “the same, minus the arsenal of bacon. A regular ol’ portion of bacon is fine.”

  She left without another word and I looked over at him. “Me Fay, you…?”

  “Enoch.” He smiled. “At your service.”

  “Enoch.” I smiled back. I couldn’t help myself. “I really like that.” His purple eyes met mine and he seemed again like he was trying to figure some puzzle out. “What do you do?”

  “Professional traveler.”

  “A Gypsy?”

  He barked a laugh. “No, not really,” he evaded. “What do you do?”

  I let my eyes fall to the table. He sucked in a quick breath like he was in pain. I looked up at him and he was watching me with his mouth open. He licked his lip and shook his head. “Ok, don’t tell me right now. Right now, I need to feed.”

  “She’ll bring the food soon. Besides, you didn’t even want to eat, remember,” I reminded him.

  He nodded carefully. “This is where the part about you helping me comes in. When we finish our meal, I’ll let you know what we need to do, all right.” It wasn’t a question. He brightened and looked over at the door as it chimed. “Never mind. I think dinner just walked in.”

  I glanced over, feeling more creeped out by the second, and saw a man and woman—obviously in a fight. They hissed in whispers and glared at each other as they found a seat. I looked back at Enoch, so happy to finally know his name, but so confused. I smirked, willing to play his game if that was what he needed right now.

  “So you’re a vampire or something?” He chuckled and shook his head, staring at the table as I went on. “You want me to club them over the head when they leave so you can suck them dry in the parking lot. That wasn’t exactly what I signed up for in my part of this arrangement.”

  “No,” he said softly and looked up at me. When he saw my face, how that smile seemed to affect me, his face hardened a little. “No,” he said harder. “It’s nothing like that. Just forget I brought it up. It’s been taken care of.” He leaned back and watched the couple, his lips slightly open.

  Their waitress came and took their order and they seemed to fight about that, too. Enoch’s eyes closed and he sighed. I wanted to bolt, but something was holding me back. Something was keeping me there. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, blue eyes,” he said,
never opening his eyes. But when a chair scraped, we both looked over to see the couple storming out. “Bloody hell,” he muttered. “Should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.”

  “What’s going on with you?” I asked quietly. Maybe he escaped from somewhere, a clinic or an asylum or something. Maybe there was some medication he hadn’t taken but really should have. I didn’t know, but the guy clearly had something going on upstairs.

  He looked at me sadly and I didn’t understand why. “We’ll talk about it later. You can tell me about your job,” he said slowly and nudged my foot with his gently. “Anything you want to talk about.”

  “I shouldn’t tell you all my secrets. You’re a stranger,” I said to lighten the mood. “Haven’t you ever heard of stranger danger?”

  He grinned—that grin transforming his whole face. “They coined that term because of me, sweetheart.”

  It had been exactly thirty-two days since I had forced an emotional feed from someone. I followed people around until I found someone who was pissed off or sad and then I fed. It had been like this for months now. It didn’t always work out and sometimes I had to cave and force my terror on them because I was about to starve, but mostly, I avoided it at all costs.

  Ever since that night in the alley after Eli and Clara’s wedding, my life hadn’t been the same. I couldn’t get that woman’s screams out of my head. I dreamed about them—as much as a devourer can dream because we don’t sleep. They invaded my thoughts during the day in flashes that came out of nowhere. I got no peace, no rest. I tried everything to rid myself of it. At first, I ignored it and went on with life, but soon realized that that just made it worse. When I stopped bringing terror to others, it got better.

  Like I was being punished.

  It didn’t go away, but she doesn’t haunt me as badly anymore. I’ve done everything I can to make up for what I did to her in the alley that day by almost starving myself. But it’s a miserable existence. It’s a pointless existence.

  I’ve thought about finding Eli and seeing what he thinks about what’s going on, but I knew he would just say I was becoming like him. The change in him began with a little boy and a revolving door. After that, he didn’t force feed on people unless he had to either, but he hadn’t gone to my extreme. I would literally bring myself to the brink of starvation. He said he found a way around it by going to high school. That there was enough angst and drama there that he never had to force fear on anyone, but I wasn’t doing that. I’d live this miserable existence if that’s what it took, but I wasn’t going to high school and have some love sick girl fall in love with me.

  No.

  I looked up at find Fay watching me. I sighed and looked away. If I couldn’t get her to talk about whatever made her so upset earlier, then I was going to have to force it out of her. I was too far gone. This was the brink. I guess I could use someone else, but I didn’t want to let Fay go yet. I wanted her to stay the night and make sure she had a safe place. The thought of watching her sleep not only fascinated me, but made me feel like I’m sure Eli felt when he got that look on his face, the one he used for Clara. It pissed me off just as much as it intrigued me, just once, to know what the big deal was about.

  I had to know why Eli would give up everything for it. I mean this sucked, but I could live this way if I had to. One day, I would go back to normal. I knew it. I had to.

  I was a devourer. I was not a human and never would be.

  _________________

  I ate all the food in no time. I wasn’t really into human food like Eli, but I had to put on a show for her. She actually plowed through her food, too, which surprised me because I thought human girls complained about their weight and survived on three ounces of protein a day or something. This chick ate the means of a full grown man.

  “What?” she said and cocked her brow at me.

  A chuckled slipped past my lips. “That’s really cute.”

  “What?” she asked, seemingly affronted by my compliment. Another anomaly since in my experience, human girls practically begged for compliments.

  I squinted. “I’m not allowed to say you’re cute?”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but seemed to think better of it. “I guess so. No one has said I’m cute in a long time. Sorry. Occupational hazard.”

  “And what occupation is that?”

  “The occupation of being able to take down the guys I date,” she replied smartly.

  “You didn’t do so well with the guy out there,” I reminded her.

  “He caught me off guard, number one.” She pointed and drove her points home. “Number two, he confined me to a small space where I couldn’t get a good swing at him. Number three, he was a lot bigger than me.”

  “All valid, cupcake,” I goaded. This American, human girl I knew was having a hard time in her life now, but somehow I also knew at some point in her life was spoiled and pampered. A daddy’s girl perhaps.

  She scoffed and pushed her plate away. “Check,” she called and motioned to the waitress.

  I chuckled, pleased with how affected she was by me. “You’re feisty for someone who was attacked not long ago.” She let her gaze settle on me and shrugged before looking away. “It’s a great show of character.”

  “Like I said, occupational hazard. I was in the military. They trained us to move on, not let things get to us.”

  “I don’t think it was the military,” I mused. “I think it was something else.” Her face paled a little and I sucked in a quick breath. “There,” I told her and moved toward her across the table as close as the table would allow. “Whatever that was you were just thinking about. That’s what made you strong, that’s what made you what you are.”

  She looked as if she might cry for a split second before she banished it.

  “Nice one, Dr. Phil,” she said easily and looked at the table. “Listen, I’m tired.” She looked up at the waitress as she came and started to pull her wallet from her purse.

  “No,” I said gruffly and handed the waitress a fifty. “Keep the change.” I stood and took Fay’s arm. “Come on. You owe me.”

  “W-what did you do that for? The bill couldn’t have been more than twenty bucks.”

  “Because I can and I didn’t want to wait.” I pulled her roughly—I knew it was too rough—out to the parking lot and searched for something, anything. “Fay, I need you to keep up your end of the bargain. Find me someone who’s fighting or upset. I don’t want to…”

  “What?” she asked and it was the first time all night she’d been frightened of me.

  “Just, please.” I stepped closer slowly. “Fay, please.”

  “Do you have some fetish or something or are we back to vampires?” she said wryly.

  My vision blurred a little and I groaned. “Whichever one makes you want to help me.”

  She sighed. “There’s no one here.” I started to speak, but she held up her hand. “I know where we can go if you promise to…” she sighed and threw her hands up in exasperation, “to not get me murdered in an alley or something.”

  “I’ll keep you safe. I promise. I like having you around, Fay.”

  I jolted at the realization. I couldn’t stop myself from saying the first thing that popped into my head. She seemed to recognize that I had made a mistake and smiled a little. “Okay. Okay, Enoch, I’ll go on this crazy, wild goose chase of an adventure with you tonight. But tomorrow, I’m back on my own wild goose chase, all right?”

  “What are you searching for?”

  “My sister. I haven’t seen her in a very long time, and last I heard, she moved out here with her new husband. I was…discharged from the military so I’m hoping that she’ll want to see me.”

  I grimaced. “Family’s overrated.”

  “That’s what I used to think,” she said softly, “until you don’t have any left.”

  I sucked in a ragged breath at tasting her sorrow. Ever since that day in the alley, things didn’t even taste the same. The emotions that I
used to relish in now tasted like acid, and though I needed them to survive, I didn’t enjoy them anymore. She looked at me curiously. “Wait, if we’re looking for someone who’s fighting or upset, then what about sad?”

  “If they’re really sad, that’ll work,” I answered automatically and regretted it. “But not as well as anger does.”

  “I’m really sad,” she insisted and started to come toward me. “Use me for your little experiment.”

  “No,” I insisted back, but it came out a growl.

  She faltered for a split second, but kept coming. “Why not?”

  “Because.” Whatever she was thinking about must have been awful because the sorrow was eating her alive. I groaned just as she reached me and opened my mouth to protest, but her sadness filled it instead. I looked down at her through eyes barely still open and watched as she remembered whatever it was that was making her so sad. Right before her chest shook, I moaned and licked my lip, unable to stop myself. She seemed enthralled by this and taken aback simultaneously.

  “Fay, stop,” I pleaded.

  “It’s not real,” she said into the air, as if she needed to say it, to convince herself.

  I took her face in my hands and that one small gesture solidified my fate. Oh, no… Was this what Eli felt when he met Clara? Some unknown reason and pull to know her? To know why she mattered and ticked all of sudden out of all the people and women in all the world? Why this one person?

  Why her…to make me feel?

  I let my thumb run across her cheekbone and realized in the hundreds of years that I’d lived, I’d never taken the time to just see what a woman felt like.

  Anger rolled over me at the fact that my life as I knew it was over. I was a dead man, for all intents and purposes. I couldn’t go home again. It wasn’t her fault; I was just finally coming to terms that I had changed. And there wasn’t any going back.