by Unknown
Once we went up and over The Grapevine, my pulse sped up; the reality Nicholas was so close yet so far from my vicinity rocked my body. The first opportunity I had, during the daylight of course, I’d jam over to his house. His dad’s address was already programmed in my phone—612 Elm.
As we left the I-5 and hit the 405, butterflies tickled my stomach every time I saw signs for Beverly Hills. Would we be staying close? Once we turned off onto Wilshire Avenue, déjà vu set in.
“Where are we staying?”
“The Hilton.”
My pulse sky-rocketed. “The Beverly Hills Hilton!?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Oh.” I ran my hand through my hair, trying to remain calm, my gut pinching and swirling. “I’ve heard it’s nice.”
Luke let out a “pssht” like I was losing my mind.
As the hotel came into view, I turned away, the memories flooding in too fast—Nicholas playing the guitar in the enormous Penthouse suite while the fire roared in the fireplace and the view of the HOLLYWOOD sign loomed in the background. My eye caught the Vampire Vineyards Tasting Room across the street.
“A vampire tasting room? How funny,” Luke said, catching me gawk at the peculiar business.
“Yeah, weird.”
I held onto my talisman, then glanced in the air with a shiver, the irony too coincidental to deal with. Somewhere out there, the real vampires of L.A. were hiding, waiting for the perfect opportunity to inflict revenge. I’d escaped their clutches twice and knew their secret, something hated in their world. The talisman, finally working, would hide my scent this time. Could I come and go without them even noticing me?
We parked in the parking structure next to the hotel and walked inside. I kept my head down in case the girl who worked in the boutique or the guy at the counter would recognize me. All I needed was a “welcome back and where’s Mr. Kendrick,” to let Luke know that I’d been here, with a boy no less. Luckily all the faces I saw were new. Luke got the keys from the main lobby desk and we escaped to the elevator.
My eyes zeroed in on the 23rd floor, the Penthouse. My stomach angrily squeezed the burrito I’d eaten on the road. Then to my horror, Luke pressed the button as if it were our destination.
“What are you doing?” I said, pulling his hand away after nothing happened.
“Nothing. Chill.” He retracted his arm from my claws with a frown. “Just checking if it would work.”
I exhaled and faced forward, composing myself. “Only celebrities and presidents,” and lifesaving vampires, “stay there. You need a special key.”
Luke grunted and pressed the 18th floor button. “Man, Julia. Why are you all jumpy?”
I wiped my hands over my jeans. The rise in the cab made the butterflies in my stomach flit harder. “I’m not. I just don’t like breaking hotel etiquette.”
Luke grunted disapprovingly and we rode the rest of the way in silence. Once we got to our room, he called Dad and I excused myself to the bathroom. The three of us rooming together in a cramped hotel room was going to be torture. I could shut off everyone while awake, but once I fell asleep, anything they felt would infuse my dreams.
I took out Nicholas’ journal.
November 12
Dad and I were returning from Harry’s when we saw some of the Chupacabra’s harassing some guy in a suit. Bold of them to cross the border from Mexico into LA’s territory. Heckling before the attack is the new thing. Seasons the blood with adrenaline I guess. Gave us a chance to try the new stakes Harry constructed from Dad’s venom. After we dusted the vamps we found out the guy was none other than Barron Hilton. As a thank you, we’re allowed to stay at the Hilton any time whenever there’s a vacancy. Pretty generous of him. Of course, he has no clue who we are but I doubt he’ll ever talk.
I chuckled. Even in his own private journal entry, Nicholas remained humble. I started to read the next entry when a knock on the door, coupled with Luke’s impatience, bombarded me.
“I’m busy!” I yelled.
“Dad won’t be back ‘til later so I’m outta here.”
“What?” I said as I shoved the leather book back into my bag and opened up the door. “Not in my car you aren’t.”
Luke frowned as I reached for my keys. “If anyone is leaving, it’s going to be me.”
“Fine,” he said with an eye roll, “let’s go.”
We rode the elevator down to the lobby and I kept watching, hoping I’d run into Nicholas somehow, like my presence here would serve as some sort of beacon and draw him to me. I knew, though, I’d never be so lucky.
The rest of the afternoon, I bided my time. We went to the grocery store to load up on snacks and drinks for our room and I suggested a movie. If I chose a chick flick, I could escape to Nicholas’ for the two hours while Luke was preoccupied in another theater. But Luke had seen all the other movies.
We ended up back at the hotel a little after 4:00. Luke sprawled out on one bed with his Hot Cheetos and I ate my Red Vines on the other. He clicked on the TV. I scrolled through my phone, hitting Facebook and Twitter, then Farmville.
- Sorry about everything.
Sam’s text interrupted my game.
- Yeah. We’ll do Disney another time.
I lay there hoping she’d text back, but there was nothing else. I stared at the sprinkler system attached to the ceiling. Trapped and waiting. The sun would crest the skyline in a few hours and I’d have to wait another day. The thought burned me up inside.
A sudden snort disrupted my daydream. Luke rolled over and mumbled something under his breath; orange cheese dusted over his lips. My heart sped up. He’d fallen asleep. Quick as a flash, I wrote a note and slipped into the hall. My fingers fumbled the cold keys in my pocket as I watched the numbers count down to one on the elevator display. Within minutes I was in my car, zooming towards Beverly Hills.
My hands shook as my eyes locked onto the Elm street sign before I turned down it. I was here, finally here and going to see him within minutes. The manicured lawns and pristine houses filed by; much less ominous during the day than as I remembered. My pulse lumbered and sputtered for a beat when I spotted his house.
I parked and waited, noting the inside. Beyond sensing someone’s impatience, all seemed well. I bit my lip and traversed the path up to the huge porch. A crow flew overhead, cawing out a warning as if to say, “don’t go.” I kept walking, amazed this was going to happen. My hand hovered in the air about to knock when the door opened.
I glanced up into big green eyes framed under tousled brown hair, my voice halting in my throat. Nicholas smiled, warm and inviting—the bloodlust completely gone. It took everything not to rush him and assault his neck with my arms.
“Yes?” he asked, confusion crossing his face. “Can I help you?”
My internal squealing party came to a screeching halt as Nicholas watched me as though I were a stranger.
“It’s me, Nicholas. Julia.”
On the outside, he appeared calm, but inside he warred with himself, wrought with confusion.
“Hi, Julia.”
The air whooshed out of my mouth and stars sparkled across my vision, leaving me faint. How could he not know who I was?
“Who’s here?” A female voice said, none other than the witch Alora herself.
“Julia,” Nicholas called out innocently.
“Oh?” Joy radiated forth, a kind I didn’t think was for my benefit. “Well then, invite her in.”
Nicholas’ mystification drifted and he swept his arm out, filled with curiosity instead. “Come in.”
I looked at him, then at the darkened interior of the house, wanting to bolt. My feet, numb and trembling, had different plans and crossed the threshold. I needed answers. He closed the door behind me. The soft sound screamed out finality like I’d be trapped there for eternity. Within the dim interior Alora appeared. Surprisingly, she’d shed her vixen getup for a sundress, like she wore in the photo Nicholas had of her on his dresser at home.
“Who is this?” Nicholas asked.
“A friend of yours, sweetie. Someone you knew before your amnesia,” she said then turned toward me with a sickening smile. “Come on in. Let’s chat.”
Amnesia? My fists formed into balls, tempted to knock her block off. She’d done this on purpose, taken my Nicholas away from me as revenge for not letting her keep the talisman that dark and dreary night on the beach. It took all my self-control to remain composed and not fall apart on the spot.
Nicholas, completely unknowing, smiled his warm smile I loved, but the emptiness behind it rolled my stomach over. There was nothing there. No love. No memory of us. Just a beautiful shell, watching me with interest.
“I believe Julia is here to return something of mine actually. Nicholas, darling, would you mind retrieving—”
I backed up and clutched the talisman to my chest, giving Nicholas an evil eye to stay away.
“Alora. I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Preston said as he came around the corner. “That’s something Nicholas gave to Julia a long time ago and belongs to her now.” He glared at Alora for a moment. She frowned back.
I took a deep breath and studied Preston, a carbon copy of Nicholas but with dark eyes—both youthful and handsome. His heart no longer radiated the loneliness I’d felt when I visited before. Instead, kindness and empathy rolled out toward me.
“Let’s reconvene in the living room and talk. I’m sure you’ve got questions,” he said to me, a tiny hint of southern drawl in his voice.
Preston placed his hand on my back and led me into a room where two sofas faced one another. Antiques covered the lavishly decorated space, evidence of lifetimes of collecting, filling every possible inch in the room. I stood up straight and allowed him to lead me over to one of the couches, thankful for my ability to read emotions. No one was interested in tasting my blood today, though Alora brought with her a tall glass of something thick and red.
She took a large sip and the swirling happiness hit me hard before I could shield myself against it. Blood.
“Some habits are hard to break,” she said, her canine teeth covered in red liquid.
“I see.” I cringed and looked away.
Preston’s calm infused my nerves as he signaled Nicholas to sit by me. He complied but kept an appropriate distance. I stared down at his hand between us, aching to entwine my fingers with his.
“Well,” Preston began. “We were hoping for more progress before now, but during the memory treatments, Alora had a bit of trouble. She only wanted to go back as far as when the blood triggered his desire, but unfortunately his memories were difficult to trim, especially at the degree Nicholas was suffering. She’d need him to think about what happened, but when he was lucid, he wouldn’t cooperate. So we sedated him, but then his past timeline would mesh together in an incoherent jumble.
“She did her best, but accidentally cut into most of his childhood. Once she realized what had happened, she started working to repair the fractured memories. It’s a big puzzle with mostly snippets of intelligible information. Nicholas has had some breakthroughs recently though.”
As Preston squeezed Alora’s knee, she appeared grieved over the statement, such a competent actress. But I felt her smugness. “I feel horrible about it, Julia.”
Could Preston not see through her lies? She didn’t want Nicholas to remember me. Without our connection, she could get him to retrieve the necklace for her no problem. And if she could get her tentacles on Preston’s past and press delete, she’d be golden. He was the only gatekeeper to the invincibility that dangled on my neck. And there was no way for me to stop her because if I staked her, Nicholas would die in the process as she was above him in the immortal bloodline.
I looked at Nicholas, noting the pain in his eyes, but not because he was hurting from lack of memory. He was apparently reflecting my own horror. I bit my lip to hold back the tears. I wouldn’t give Alora the satisfaction.
“So we were friends? Here? In L.A?” he asked.
I gulped, embarrassed to mention we were way more than friends. “Scotts Valley, actually. That’s where I live, where we met.” My voice was horrifically shaky, sending a flush to my cheeks.
How would he ever love me again? Our relationship was built on the tragedy of my mother’s death and if he didn’t remember that, why would he care? Care that he’d vowed to protect my life because of that event? Without that ingredient, there wasn’t any chemistry—no spark. I was just another plain girl sitting next to him, vying for his affection.
“I need to go,” I said, quickly standing to my feet.
“No. Please.” Preston placed his hand on my arm quick as a flash.
“I’m sorry.” I pulled away, stumbling to the door. As soon as I opened it, the orange light from the setting sun cast its hue across the wooden floor. Both Preston and Alora disappeared, leaving Nicholas, lost and bewildered, watching me from the couch.
I don’t remember how I got to the car or even if I shut the front door behind me, but I zoomed away, lost in a fit of tears. Everything I cared about melted out of my hands like a snowball on a hot day. He was the only semi-normal person who understood me, who fit the misshapen puzzle pieces of my life. He alone knew of my genetic malfunction, and loved me anyway. Alora had robbed me of that, too. She’d taken everything away.
I wanted to run back and blow up the house so the sun burned her into a million dusty pieces. Was this the final straw? How the prediction would play out? That I’d lose him in a way I couldn’t repair? That I would be more consumed with Alora’s death than anyone else’s? Was this what Scarlett didn’t want to tell me?
I needed to breathe, to drive, to get somewhere far away from the insanity. Heartsick and confused, I ended up back at the Beverly Hills Hilton. I ran into the room and locked myself in the bathroom.
“Julia? Julia!” Luke said outside the door, partly groggy from me waking him up from the slam.
I didn’t want to deal with the pain, the sadness, the grief. All that was left of Nicholas was his memories written down in a journal. I wanted mine to go away, too—erased forever. And then it came to me. Scarlett could erase my past just like she’d done with Tyler. I could start my life over, never knowing what a wonderful guy he was. Maybe even right up to the point Phil became a vampire. She could erase Nicholas from my life and put Phil in his place. Phil would agree to it. He’d already offered to protect me emotionally and physically.
The stitching of my life would be easy, well, except I didn’t want to erase this; the day I buried my mother and my family said our goodbyes.
Maybe Scarlett could be subjective. I just needed the pain to stop.
Chapter Seven
The next day I pulled myself out of bed with strength I didn’t know I had. The pain, so raw and close to the surface, made me want to crawl into a ball and sleep forever. Not only did Nicholas’ amnesia mince me to pieces on the inside, I didn’t get the resurrection ritual from Alora. I’d have to go home empty-handed and hope Scarlett would keep her promise to Phil in order to save Katie.
With very little conversation, the three of us got ready and drove to Westwood Memorial Park, Mom’s new resting place. A small crowd of people dressed in black gathered at the mausoleum wall: friends she worked with, people from church, past neighbors, and relatives I didn’t recognize.
When Mom’s disappearance had been declared a cold case, the vicious rumor mill spun into action looking for someone to blame. Dad had always said we’d moved so Aunt Jo could help watch us when he traveled, but that wasn’t the entire reason. Though he’d been removed as a suspect, his abrupt decision to leave raised suspicions of the family even more. Unable to handle the constant criticism, he eventually cut ties altogeth
er. The tension, which still floated thick in the air, should have settled when tests proved Dad’s innocence. Even still, old grudges died hard.
I tried to be cordial to the lingering guests, but mostly focused on keeping up my shield. I was adrift, swimming in my own sea of loss, missing my mother and longing for Nicholas. One small misstep would send me crashing into the sharp rocks that were left of our relationship, our love. I had to keep it together. Just for today.
Luke sat next to me and whispered his guesses of who was who in the crowd when a taxi pulled up. Out stepped a woman with a purple fluff of hair—Grandma. I jumped from my seat and rushed her with a hug. Her tenderness encased my broken heart with a large bandage only she could give.
“Dear,” she said, while pushing my hair off my wet cheeks. “It’s so wonderful to see you again.”
“I’m so sorry, Grandma. We just found out why—why I never got to see you.”
“Oh, love. I never blamed your father. Please know that,” she said with incredible sadness. “They loved each other deeply, as only we could know.” A soft smile tugged at her lips but it didn’t lighten her grief. “He shut me out. I should have tried harder.”
She hugged me again and years of longing melted away, healing that place where we missed Mom, the real reason we were all joined together on a gloomy June day.
I escorted her to Luke who recognized her instantly. We joined into another group hug, during which Grandma reached out for Dad and pulled him into the circle.
“I’m sorry, Grace,” he said, guilt swirling around us in a lazy looping circle.
Grandma tsked and, instead of bitterness, she drenched us in love. “That was a long time ago, Russell. And we are together again.”
For that single sweet moment, we all breathed a collective sigh of relief and forgot the past. I marveled in Grandma’s power to be able to encase us all with such forgiveness, mending everyone’s soul—even Dad’s.
