Page 119 of Road Trip with a Vampire
“What I believe my friend is trying to ask is whether she said anything else,” Frederick clarified. He removed, then wiped clean, his spectacles. Peter struggled not to roll his eyes.
Vampires didn’tneedcorrective lenses. Eyesight deficiencies were immediately cured during the turning process, along with every other malady that might have plagued a person while human. Peter suspected the fop only wore them because they contributed to the old-fashioned look he preferred.
He could forgive Frederick this indulgence, though. He’d been incredibly helpful in advising Peter these past few days.
“She didn’t say anything else,” Peter said. Worry tugged at him. “Should she have?”
The other men’s eyes met. “It depends,” Reginald said carefully.
“On?”
Frederick steepled his fingers together and rested his chin on the point they made. “On whether she forgives you or not.”
His face crumpled. “Oh.”
Reggie clapped him on the shoulder. Peter had killed men for less, but he let it slide. “Listen. She likes you.”
“What?” Peter’s heart hadn’t beat in many years. But if it could, it would be racing.
“You two couldn’t have had a worse beginning,” Reggie said. “But I’ve known her for centuries. Once she cares about someone, she never gives up on them.”
Peter felt like a schoolboy, adrift and lost in a way that was uncomfortable and unfamiliar. When it came to Zelda, he was helpless.
“If the cookies didn’t work,” he asked, “what’s next?”
“Give her time,” Reginald said.
“Time,” Peter repeated. He could give her time. They were both immortal. They had limitless amounts of time.
“And after you finish giving her time,” Frederick added, “grovel.”
I awoke to the uniquelyunpleasant sensation of cold water dripping onto my forehead.
For a moment I was back in the Cotswolds in 1876, sleeping in that barn with the poorly thatched roof during a rainstorm.
When I blinked open my eyes, though, I saw my bedroom, exactly as it had been the night before—save for water dripping from the ceiling in three places.
I flew from bed in a disoriented panic, terrified that I’d miscalculated again and my magic was somehow doing this. Once the panic subsided, though, I looked out my window.
Water fell from the sky in torrents. As if to further prove that I wasn’t responsible, a rumble of thunder pierced the air, making me jump.
My apartment was above the back half of the studio, which was the part of the building farthest from the street. The last time we’d had a leak, water had gotten in through the front half only, soaking some of our merchandise but leaving my home dry.
I wasn’t so lucky this time. I moved my bed away from the leak, then did the same with my bookshelf and bureau. My well-stocked kitchen probably had enough buckets and bowls to catch all the drips; if not, I could get some from downstairs. Inspecting my belongings for water damage would have to wait until after I saw what shape the studio was in.
Hopefully it wouldn’t be too bad.
Becky and Lindsay were alreadyin our conference room by the time I got there twenty minutes later.
“How bad is it?” I asked as I slid into the last empty chair.
“It could have been worse,” Becky said. “None of the workout rooms are leaking, which is a relief. But that leak in our lobby came back. We’ll have to get rid of more inventory.”
I grimaced. “How much?”
“All of the leggings will have to go.” Lindsay shook her head.“About half the sweatshirts, too. It’s just rainwater, but we can’t very well wash this stuff and sell it to people.”
“We can’t,” I agreed. Hopefully we’d met our insurance deductible the last time our roof leaked, and we wouldn’t be out of pocket too much this time. “My apartment is leaking now, too, which means the roof has deteriorated since the last rainstorm. Any chance you’ve found a roofer?”
