Page 53 of Road Trip with a Vampire
“Probably a flat tire,” Peter said. He turned around, looking towards the back of the car. “Do you have a spare?”
“I have no idea.” The last time I’d driven this car farther than to the grocery store and back had been ten years ago, when I’d driven to California from Chicago.
Peter stared at me. “You set out on a cross-country road trip without making sure you had a spare tire?”
I bristled. “I had a lot on my mind, okay?”
Peter shot me a judgmental look before opening his door and walking around to the back of the car. He let out a low whistle. “Definitely a flat. There’s a nail sticking out of your rear left tire.”
I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against the steering wheel. This was just great. We were in the middle of nowhere. Gods only knew how long it would take a tow truck to get here.
Peter gave the car a solid thump. “Pop the trunk for me. I’ll see if there’s a spare.”
The trunk itself opened easily enough. But the compartment beneath the trunk that would, apparently, house a spare tire if there was one, was locked down tight.
“I don’t have a key to that,” I said, regretfully.
“Hmm.” Peter knelt on the ground and began fiddling with some red and black wires at the bottom of the trunk that I’d neverseen before. A few slightly alarming sparks later, there was a mechanical popping sound from within the car.
Peter grinned, triumphant. “Got it.”
Before I could ask him what, exactly, he had just done and how he had known how to do it, he easily lifted the lid to the compartment as if it had simply been waiting all this time for Peter to come along.
There, sitting on a pile of rags, was my spare tire. It looked at least as old as the car itself, but there was no nail sticking out of it, which was a big improvement over our current situation.
Peter leaned over the tire and examined it. “This should be good enough to get us to a repair shop,” he said, running an index finger along the tread. “But barely. We’ll need to replace it with something that can handle a few more thousand miles.” He surveyed the other back tire, then grimaced. “Let’s replace them all while we’re at it.”
I blew out a long breath. Everything was going to be okay. “Should I call a tow truck?”
“No need.” Peter rolled up his sleeves to the elbow, showing off forearms corded with muscle. I didn’t know why a man rolling up his shirtsleeves was somehow sexier than the same man wearing a short-sleeved shirt—they should conduct scientific research on this question, honestly—but gods, it was.
Oblivious to the way I was ogling him, Peter hefted the spare out of my trunk like it weighed nothing at all and leaned it against the back of my car.
“Fortunately, you have a jack,” he said, as though I knew what the hell ajackwas. He extracted a large metal object from my trunk, then knelt on the ground beside the busted tire. “Shouldn’t take me long to switch them out.”
I stared at him. “You can change a tire, too?” It was true thatsome vampires had useful skills, but the oldHow many vampires does it take to change a lightbulb?joke wasn’t a classic for nothing. If Peter could change a tire with his bare hands, he was probably the handiest vampire in recorded history.
He looked up at me from where he knelt. “Youcan’tchange a tire?”
“Ican, but only if I use…” I trailed off, wiggling my fingers. We were in a public parking lot where anyone could hear me. I didn’t want to explain that if I used my magic, I could fix anything.
He nodded, understanding. “And you don’t want to use your—”
“No,” I said emphatically. “Not in public, in broad daylight.” Besides, I couldn’t risk doing magic again so soon after I’d done a significant spell last night. I had a schedule I was determined to stick to.
His lips quirked into a cocky grin. “It’s good that I’m here, then.”
Then he jacked up my car and eased off the busted tire like he’d been doing it all his life. A sudden warmth came over me as I watched him work. It had, I realized, been a very long time since I’d been able to rely on somebody else to take care of things like this for me.
When had I last been able to turn to someone else when there was a crisis and have them just…handleit? I couldn’t remember. All I knew was that this, right now, being cared for…
It felt good.
I shoved the feeling down deep. I couldn’t let myself get used to it. Peter was still a stranger. And a vampire. And while we hadn’t talked about what his plans would be after getting to Indiana, I had a feeling I would never see him again after we got there.
“How do you know how to do this?” I asked to distract myself from this swirl of confusing feelings.
He paused in his work, still holding the long metal tool he was using to tighten the new tire in place. Where hadthatcome from?
