Page 8 of Road Trip with a Vampire
Annabelle Adams, staff reporter for theChicago Tribune
At approximately 1:35 a.m. on Saturday, October 19, a car driving eastbound on I-88 just outside Naperville crashed into the median and burst into flames. After first responders put out the fire, they found no sign of survivors or, more curiously, any passengers inside the vehicle.
No other vehicles were reported near the scene. Police have begun an investigation into what caused the accident and where the car’s driver may have gone.
There had been a timewhen a random vampire showing up was so par for the course, I couldn’t even call it unexpected when it happened.
But those days had ended the night I’d purposely crashed mycar outside Chicago and went permanently off the grid of my old life.
Or so I’d thought. Panic coursed through me as I stared at this stranger. At his teeth. Knowing exactly what would happen in this studio full of people if he lost control.
How had he tracked me down? And who was he? I went through a mental checklist of all the vampires I’d run afoul of over the years but came up blank. My past life was a blur in many ways, but he didn’tlookfamiliar, and I had a near photographic memory for faces.
I shot a glance to Lindsay. Her attention was on Peter, but she wasn’t screaming or running for the door. That meant his involuntary glamour, which kept humans from seeing a vampire’s fangs except while feeding, was still in place.
Of course, that glamour had never worked on me. I’d never learned why, though I was grateful for it. It had saved me on more occasions than I could count.
Including right now.
Now that I was over the initial shock of a vampire showing up at my good clean yoga studio, I noticed in Peter all the signs of a vampire who hadn’t fed in a while. His pupils were narrowed to barely there black slits, with tiny bright red spots in the centers. The unique, nearly irresistible scent of sex and danger—a scent designed to lure potential victims his way—all but oozed from him.
I had to get him out of here.
First, though, I had to get Lindsay and our students out of here. Preferably without frightening them. I could take care of myself if it was a matter of life and death, but I didn’t want anyone to see me in action if it could be avoided.
They’d have no way to defend themselves if our visitor went on a rampage.
“You can go home,” I said to Lindsay, not taking my eyes off Peter. He seemed to have realized that I could see his fangs. He stared at me just as intently as I stared at him, his face a mirror of the surprise I knew was all over my face.
“Go home?” Lindsay gaped at me like I’d sprouted an extra head, then gesticulated between me and the Walnut Room. The black plastic bracelets ringing her arms clacked together as she moved. “I have class.”
“I’ll teach it,” I said. “Better yet—let’s cancel.”
“But the students already paid for it.” Lindsay stared at me. “What is going on?”
“I didn’t put two and two together last night, when you gave me your name,” Peter said as if Lindsay weren’t there. Only moments had passed, but it felt like time had stopped altogether. He put his hands up in a palms-forward submissive gesture. “I’m not here to cause trouble. I just want to talk.”
Lindsay’s eyes darted back and forth between us. “I’ll go teach,” she said, definitively. “You two can, uh…talk out here. Zelda, text me later so I know you’re okay?”
I considered Peter a moment. Took in his earnest expression. Now that my surprise had worn off, I was calm enough to realize Peter wasn’t in the throes of bloodlust. If he were, he’d have been fangs-deep in Lindsay’s neck before I’d even shown up. Or at least acting like an aggressive asshole. Not looking at me beseechingly, politely asking if we could talk.
“Fine,” I said to Lindsay. “Go teach. I’ll text you later.”
Lindsay’s eyebrows lifted at my sudden change of mind. “You sure?”
“I’m sure,” I said.
Once Lindsay and the students were all safely in the Walnut Room, I grabbed Peter’s arm and pulled him as far from theclassroom as I could. It was like gripping a statue. His forearm was firm and muscular beneath my fingertips, his flesh unnaturally cool to the touch. I had forgotten just how cold vampires ran. How could I have forgotten something so fundamental?
Then again, it had been ten years.
Peter’s eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned in close, inhaling long and deep. The tip of his nose brushed a line down the curve of my neck as he breathed me in.
Twin shivers—of unexpected desire and revulsion—ran down my spine.
“Not so fast, mister.” I dropped his arm and put distance between us, trying to shake off the lingering impact that proximity to a vampire who needed to feed could have on a person. Because if he hadn’t fed in a while, grabbing his arm just now had been incredibly stupid.
He raised an eyebrow. “Can I assume you’ve retracted your offer to let me take a class?”
