by K M Smith
“Mrs. Peterson, please, try to calm down.”
“Calm down?” She looked at the detective incredulously. “Calm down? You’ve basically just told me that my husband left me ‘of his own accord’ and that I should stop whining because these things happen, and you can’t—won’t—help me!” Angry, Sarah stood to leave the room.
“Please, sit down, Mrs. Peterson. Let me explain. Our protocol in these situations—”
“Explain? Protocol? Detective Miller, your protocol doesn’t need any explanation. I get it, you’re done looking. Now, if we’re done here, I’d like to go and attempt to figure out how the hell I’m going to raise a baby on my own.” Stunned by her own words, she slumped back down into the chair and sobbed.
“Mrs. Peterson, here, take this,” he handed her more tissues and patted her on the back of her hand. “Listen, please. I’ll continue to work the case, but unless some fresh information comes in, I’m afraid we won’t be any better off than we are now. I’m sorry to have upset you, and I didn’t mean to imply that your husband left you, but the truth is this situation is much more common than you’d think. And truthfully,” he continued, his voice sympathetic, “the wife is usually better off without ’im.”
Sarah sniffed and wiped away her tears, collecting herself the best she could. “I’m sorry to have gotten so upset, Detective. It’s just not what I was hoping to hear. I have a lot to figure out now.” Sarah stood. “So, if you’ll excuse me, I really should get back home.”
“Of course. Again, I’m sorry we didn’t have better news.”
Sarah made her way back through the station, stopping to sign out at the front desk as she did. She stepped outside and walked toward her car. The crisp, cold afternoon had turned into a freezing evening and she was thankful she remembered her hat and gloves. At least that wind died down, she thought, and continued walking to her car.
Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She stopped and glanced up at the building across the street. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She rubbed her neck and hurried the last few feet to her car. She hopped into the driver’s seat and sped out of the parking lot, eager to move on from this chapter of her life.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Adam
“There she goes, Drew boy,” Adam said, then clapped his companion on the back.
“I can see that,” Andrew replied.
“Yep, she is moving on.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Maybe.”
Adam jumped down from the roof across from the police station where they had been perched while Sarah was inside getting her heart ripped out of her chest. His feet displaced the snow in a powdery puff as he landed. “Are you coming?” Adam called, the snow jumping off his feet as he stamped the ground.
“How do you expect me to get down?”
“You’re a vampire…figure it out!”
“Fuck.” Drew shifted forward and peered over the edge.
From two stories below, Adam looked up and waved.
“You’re an asshole!” After a deep breath, Drew threw himself off the roof. A loud thud resounded as he landed in a heap of limbs next to Adam. Swirling snow glinted in the light from the streetlights.
“See, that wasn’t so bad,” Adam said.
“You’re still an asshole.” Drew dusted himself off, fine snow floating to the ground.
“Noted. Now, let’s go.” Adam walked away from Drew.
“No.”
“No?” Adam stopped, turned around.
“No. You go. I’m going to go get Sarah. Maybe she’ll listen to me.”
“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?”
“No.”
Adam raised his eyebrows at Drew.
“That’s really a thing?”
Adam nodded, “and that’s why you can’t follow Sarah right now.”
“When she sees me, she’ll listen to me.”
“What will you say? ‘Hi love, I’m undead now, are we cool?’”
“Obviously, I wouldn’t say that.”
“Mmmm.” Adam shook his head and started walking again.
“I’m not coming with you. I’m going to get my wife back!” Drew called out.
Without looking back, Adam raised his hand in a wave and kept walking.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Andrew
Andrew trudged back to the house he and his wife had shared. They had been happy there for a few months. That was before his normal life had ended.
The old oak across the street provided a safe place to gather his thoughts and get a better view. Climbing effortlessly, he settled on a branch about eight feet up. Sarah slept on the couch in the living room. Blue light glowed and flickered from the television set. Leaning back, he thought, 90210 must be on. A smile worked its way across his face as he thought about her. God, she’s beautiful. Everything was clear to his vampire eyes: her eyelashes, her milky, white skin, the curve of her jaw. No matter that she was dozens of feet away and behind glass in a dark room.
More than anything, he wanted to go to her and to fix this. But Adam was right, what would he say to her? With nowhere to go and no sense of time anyway, he nestled into the tree and watched Sarah for some time. Several of the lights were still on while she slept—including those from a small Christmas tree on a table against the wall behind the couch.
She never did like the dark.
Tired of waiting on someone else to act and determine the direction his life would take, Andrew jumped. A cat-like landing propelled him across the street and up the steps to their front door. Miraculously, he’d managed to keep hold of his house keys, despite everything he’d been through the last few weeks. His chest heaved. Deep breath, Andrew, it’s now or never!
Steady and without fumbling, he unlocked and opened the door. Stepping over the threshold and into the living room, he paused. Either that threshold thing’s a myth or the universe knows this is my house.
His confidence burst when he saw her. The blue light from the television cast violent and eerie shadows over Sarah’s face. A stark reminder of who he was and his dark and bloody existence. Overcome with guilt, he understood now why he had never returned home. His kind didn’t exist in the real world. No picnics in the park on sunny days, no going to school events, no eating dinner with the family. Sarah would’ve tried to understand—after the initial shock of it all. She would’ve been supportive, but there was no place for her goodness and light in his world. She didn’t deserve this life, so he never came home.
Eyes downcast, he padded across the room. Holding his breath so that he wouldn’t make a sound and wake his wife, Andrew lowered himself into the overstuffed chair next to the couch and waited. Sarah’s stockinged feet stuck out of the throw she’d cocooned herself in. They were so dainty. She looked frail. Maybe that was his guilt imprinting itself on her. Maybe she was as comfortable as she appeared. Motionless, he bided his time until she stirred.
A coyote howled in the distance and Sarah rolled onto her back. Inhaling deeply, she opened her eyes and stretched. Andrew slid forward then stilled as he watched her come around. She sat up and ran a hand through her hair, squinting as she looked around the room. “Oh my God! Andrew! You’re here!” She sprang toward him but halted, her face twisting into a grimace. “Andrew! What’s wrong with your eyes?”
She recoiled as Andrew watched her in silence. Confusion clouded her face. She sprang up off the couch and clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes bulging, her heart forcing her blood to swoosh through her body so fast it drained the color from her face. Andrew heard all of it.
Inside, Andrew burned. Too many times someone else had made choices for him. That had to stop. He had to make this right, to get through to her. To apologize for leaving her.
“Sarah—” Andrew began, “wait.” He stood, too.
Sarah shook her head over and over, “Nnnnnnnno.”
“Sar
ah, it’s okay, it’s me. It’s Andrew.”
◆◆◆
Andrew bounced on the balls of his feet, blinking rapidly, his eyes darting around the room. Sarah’s tensed body and ragged breathing told him he looked anything but human. As a newly turned vampire, Andrew hadn’t reined in his supernatural reflexes. His every movement must’ve appeared unnatural to her.
“Who are you? What’s the matter with your eyes?” Sarah’s voice was low and scratchy. “My Andrew has brown eyes, you don’t have brown eyes.” Sarah narrowed her eyes and leaned toward him. “Andrew, is that you? Are you on something? Your eyes are completely black! What is going on?” Fear disguised as questions tumbled out of Sarah’s mouth, and it became clear that coming home was a mistake.
I didn’t know my eyes could do that. How could he expect to convince Sarah he wasn’t going to hurt her if he didn’t know what he was capable of himself? Blinking rapidly, he hoped his eyes would change back. Sarah’s frightened stance made it clear it hadn’t worked.
“Stay over there.” Wrapping her arms around her midsection, she backed away, toward the other side of the couch, keeping her eyes on him the whole time. “How did you get in here?”
“I have keys, Sarah,” Andrew answered. “Please, just listen to me. Let me explain.”
“I don’t know who or what you are, but I want you out of my house. Now!” She shifted her position, keeping the couch between them. Andrew heard Sarah’s heart pounding. Her eyes darted back and forth between him and the table where the phone sat, and he knew it would only be a matter of time before she made her choice. He doubted she would choose him.
Sarah’s voice was so strong. Awed by this side of his wife, he desperately wanted to run to her, to hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay. But the pounding in her chest and the way she lifted her chin in the face of danger told him that she would never let that happen. How did I get here? This is not living. Despite his urge to go to his wife, he remained where he was. One misstep and the already precarious situation could turn deadly. Also, she smelled delicious. Suddenly, Andrew felt his first hunger pangs. Oh, God, he thought, and clenched his fists. I can’t feed on my wife!
“Sarah, I—” His thoughts jumbled in his mind and he couldn’t finish the sentence. There was something important he needed to tell her, something that would fix all this, but he needed blood. Nostrils flared, he lifted his head and closed his eyes. Bloodlust hit him, and hard. His fangs dropped, his breath became ragged. I have fangs? His eyes widened, and he grabbed on to a nearby chair to keep himself from lunging at Sarah.
At the sight of his fangs, Sarah let out a blood-curdling scream. Flight mode kicked in and she turned and ran for the front door. Andrew beat her to it, his bloodlust driving his preternatural speed. He blocked the door with his body and hissed at his wife. Sarah, wide-eyed and fueled by adrenaline, turned to run toward the back door. Andrew found himself in the kitchen before she even cleared the couch. Why won’t I just let her leave?
“Sarah, I can’t stop myself!” Then, a momentary flash of restraint. “I didn’t come here to attack you! I love you! I’m so sorry!” It didn’t last long. Involuntarily, he charged at her again, and this time he didn’t miss—his fledgling vampire instincts in control now. He straddled her and pinned her to the wood floor in the kitchen. Sarah fought back, but it was no use. Andrew’s strength and determination far surpassed hers. With his fangs on display, he held Sarah’s wrists to the floor and, for a split second, he focused on her jugular and the blood rapidly pulsing through it. His lips pulled back into a monstrous grin, and he was poised to tear into her firm, milky flesh.
Just then, the door to the kitchen flew open. An angry cloud of crystallized snow stormed in and attacked Andrew’s face and head like a swarm of bees protecting their hive, causing him to stop his attack mid-strike. He sat up, swatting at the snow crystals as they bombarded him.
“No!” he roared. The hunger had him fully in its grip and to be torn away was as painful as if he had been the one torn into.
“Drew! Stop!”
Panting and attempting to diffuse the snow swarm, Andrew turned his head in the direction of the sound. Adam stood in the doorway, his toes on the edge of the threshold. Drew hissed at his creator and turned back to Sarah, still hungry, and now angry at being interrupted.
“Drew,” Adam called, his voice calmer. Drew paused. The snow crystals dropped, no longer agitated and obscuring his vision. “Drew, if you do this, you won’t be able to stop. You’ll kill her.”
Drew growled, a primal sound.
“Andrew, please.” Sarah’s voice was small. Tears rolled down the sides of her face. “Don’t do this.”
Drew returned his focus to his prey. For a moment, everything around him stopped. Drew and Adam were in sync with each other, experiencing time in minuscule increments. Drew’s eyes closed in a slow-motion blink; he focused on air whooshing in and out of his vestigial lungs, the sound a cavernous, almost silent roar in his head.
That’s when they heard it: thump-thump…thump-flutter-thump…thump-thump. The two vampires exchanged a look.
Two heartbeats.
Time sped up, crashing into Andrew, causing him to jump up and away from Sarah. In a blink he was outside his former home, standing dumbstruck beside his maker.
“A baby?” Andrew asked, his hunger suppressed and his spirit crushed.
“A baby.” Adam smiled a slow, proud smile.
The two undead men weren’t allowed to revel in their collective wonder for very long: Sarah had vanished.
◆◆◆
“Invite me in,” Adam said.
“What?” Drew replied, standing next to him outside.
“It’s your house, invite me in.”
“I don’t want you going in there.”
“Drew, where’s Sarah?”
“Shit.” Drew raced inside to search for his wife.
“Dammit.” Adam kicked at the doorplate. “Drew, I can help! Let me in!”
Inside, Sarah had run upstairs. Drew followed her scent from the kitchen to the landing. He saw his wife standing with her back to him near the upstairs phone. It sat on a table at the end of the hall, away from the top of stairs. A linen closet occupied the rest of the space along that far wall. Drew saw Sarah with her hands at her sides, but he could see the muscles in her arms tensing, like she was about to snatch the phone off its cradle. His nose was bombarded with smells both nostalgic and alarming. The burnt-match smell of determination emanated from his wife. She’s going to call the police. That would be the smart thing to do. A single, pregnant woman facing not one, but two intruders. Sarah’s a smart woman, and he’d never known her to back down from doing what was right.
It was dark in the hallway, the only light coming from a lamp at the bottom of the stairs in the living room. But that didn’t matter to Drew, he could see just fine. He hoped the darkness might slow Sarah’s movement, allowing him to get to her before she picked up the phone. If the police showed up and found him there, who knew what would happen. He was supposed to be missing—dead, even—and in a way he was, but how to explain that to the cops?
“I know you’re there, Andrew,” Sarah said, her voice calm, her back to him, her posture stiff.
“Sarah—”
“I’m pregnant.”
“I know.” A smile crept on to Andrew’s face. A baby would fix this, fix us. He sighed, wanting to run to her. “I can hear both of your heartbeats,” he said.
“Why are you here?” she asked. She stepped over to the table, taking slow and deliberate steps, and making a display of picking up the phone.
“I don’t know,” he said. That answer was weak, and he knew it. “But, I—I saw you at the police station today. I’m sorry you’ve been worried.”
Sarah turned toward Andrew. Again, her eyes went wide with shock when she looked at him. Andrew stood still as she looked him over, her gaze lingering on the bare, glowing skin of his wrists and hands. “You’re
so pale,” she whispered. “I don’t know what’s going on right now, or what’s happened to you, and honestly, I’m not sure I want to know. But, clearly, things are different now. You’re different. I can’t think.” Her voice hitched, but Drew just stared as she shook her head and continued. “I can’t think straight right now, but it’s obvious that you shouldn’t be here. Not like this. Not like that.” She gestured toward him with the base of the phone in one hand and the receiver in the other. “You need to get out of my house.”
“Technically, it’s our house. I wouldn’t be able to stand here if it wasn’t.”
“What?” Sarah asked, frustrated.
“Turn around, look in the hall mirror.”
Sarah gave him an exasperated look, one that he had become all too familiar with over the last few months, then rolled her eyes, shook her head, and turned to look at the mirror.
The phone fell out of her hand. “Oh my God!” Turning to face Drew, she gasped and stepped back, stumbling over the dropped phone receiver. Her back hit the wall and Drew moved to comfort her. He wanted her to know he was still there, still her husband. After one step, Sarah recoiled, and Drew knew he’d lost her. He slinked away, waiting for her next move.
Fingers splayed along the wall, Sarah spoke, “Why couldn’t I see you in the mirror? How are you doing that?”
“I’m a vampire, Sarah.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Sarah, I nearly killed you downstairs—didn’t you see my fangs? Don’t you remember?”
“Vampire? Fangs?” Sarah leaned into the hall table.
“Sarah?”
“I’m o—” she began, then collapsed onto the floor.
◆◆◆
“Sarah! Oh, shit!” Without thinking, Andrew rushed to his wife. She was still his wife. The fact that he was no longer a living, breathing human didn’t change that. The pulsing sound of two strong heartbeats and the rising and falling of her chest indicated she would be okay. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders as she lay motionless. How many times had Andrew run his fingers through those locks? Not nearly enough. He realized that now. Her loose auburn curls rested on the carpeted floor, and Andrew felt a sudden pang of regret that he would never get to experience fatherhood. Not at Sarah’s side, not with anyone, ever. Eyes closed, he pushed down his feelings for her; there was no point in dwelling on what could never be.
