Page 40 of To Save a Vampire
My eyes drift slowlyopen to complete darkness. I blink repeatedly against the pressing blackness. The home is unique. And interesting. The lack of windows and natural sunlight makes time seem nonexistent. Hours pass without acknowledgment here, and it’s nice not to live by society’s schedule.
My hair is soft and dry against my cheek, so at least a few hours must have passed. My throat is so parched it hurts, so maybe more than just a few hours have passed. Is it after breakfast or only two in the morning? I have no idea.
I’m hesitant to get up. What if everyone is still asleep?
Voices drift through the walls, muffled but steady. Not a beat of silence passes between them. Any silence is gobbled up by laughter or words or both.
I guess two AM is ruled out. My stomach rumbles, and I pray I haven’t missed breakfast.
Fumbling through the darkness, I search against the smooth, cold wall for the light switch. After a few seconds, I find it and light instantly fills the room. It’s a small room with two incredibly soft beds and an adjoining bathroom. It’s small, but is still much larger than any of the rooms back at camp.
The bathroom I showered in before I went to bed was small as well. I’m not used to a closed-in, individual shower. It was actually very nice to have the warm steam surrounding me without the peering eyes of a dozen other women from my community. A little strange, but nice.
There are clothes set out on the dresser in the corner of the room. The white walls make the windowless room feel bigger, but I still manage to hit my head on the dresser while tugging the jeans on, causing the voices in the next room to pause a moment from my lack of grace.
The jeans button with ease. They fit. They’re almost identical to the clothes supplied by the camp, black and tight against my legs. They might essentially be my jeans from home. I try not to dwell on the thought as I pull on a shirt that I most definitely have never worn in my life. It doesn’t contain the inseam cooling agent that our camp shirts are made with. It’s just a thin, short sleeve gray cotton shirt. It fits perfectly. The soft material feels foreign, but good against my skin. I holster the gun at my hip, the feel of it hard against the softness of my clean clothes.
I run my fingers through my hair a few times, trying to tame the long curls that hang loosely down my back. It’s the first time I’ve worn my hair down in years. It’s too hot to have my hair on my neck in camp, but this house is full of cool air despite its lack of fresh air flow.
My bare feet brush against the carpet as I leave the room. I can hear male voices in the next room as I linger near the door, not sure if I should interrupt. I pause where I am, my head leaning against the partially open door.
“Didn’t think I’d ever witness a union in my life, but here my grandson brings home a beautiful girl covered in dirt like he dug her up from a wildflower garden and brought her home to marry,” Jim says.
Marry?I don’t understand the reference. Older generations use such formal and outdated speech. It’s almost cute how much they live through their emotions.
They’re discussing our union though, that I understand. A strange nervousness bubbles in my stomach at the thought. I hadn’t really had time to consider the plan my mother finally revealed before …
Shae laughs, like a school girl admiring the words of her crush. But she’s the only one.
“It’s not exactly like that,” Asher says slowly. “Fallon and I haven’t really had a chance to talk about anything like that.”
“You haven’t?” Jim’s voice is loud, almost echoing through the tiny home and making me jump in my hiding spot. “Y’all been out in the woods for almost a month now and you haven’t found time to discuss this minor detail?”
A minute ticks by in silence. It’s hard for me to tell what the mood of the conversation is. I badly want to peek my head around the corner to see them, to see what the quiet means, but I’m not ready to reveal myself just yet. Something in me wants nothing more than to hear Asher’s reply.
“We hardly know each other, Grandpa. Fallon’s …” He takes a deep breath that I can almost feel in my own heavy lungs. “It’s just not something we’ve talked about. At best, we’d still live in hiding. So Fallon won’t live all her life in a camp. Is hiding with a hybrid really any better?” His voice is pained, but he regains his composure before speaking again. “We’ll lie low for a while and maybe plan a future or maybe we’ll hate each other in less than a few weeks. Nobody knows. It’s not a quick decision. It could …“ He releases another exasperated breath. “I could ruin her life.”
I swallow hard at his confession. He thinkshe could ruin my life? Worse than I already have? Not likely. What would our government do if they found out he’s not Micah? If they found out I forged my union with a hybrid. Apike.
I push my feet forward to reveal myself.
Just past the living room is an open kitchen with a long wooden dining table. The four of them are seated at the table eating and talking, but they grow instantly quiet at the sound of the door closing behind me. Asher’s eyes meet mine across the room. His head is hung low and his fingers push his disheveled hair back from his serious face.
He’s showered and changed into a clean black shirt. Cleaned up, he looks more like the boy next door than like the piece of lethal property from the compound I met a month ago.
A fluttering nervous feeling takes up residence in my stomach at the sight of him. His words still linger in the room, but the uneasy feeling his words created is swiftly replaced when a delicious smell meets my nose. Gravy and potatoes and a mixture of hot food swarm my senses. My stomach grumbles and my mouth salivates for the food I haven’t even seen yet.
Shae rounds the table and walks toward me. “Come take a seat, dear. Before Jim and Ashby eat all the food.” She gives me a big smile that creases her face, giving her an even more welcoming ambiance. Any hint of their earlier conversation has been washed from her features.
“He’s a grown man, Shae. You can’t call him your little Ashby anymore,” Jim says with a chuckle.
Shae rolls her eyes at him. Her tiny hand leans on my shoulder, pulling me to her side and into the crowded kitchen.
“How long did I sleep?”
Shae smiles at me as I take a seat between her and my mother. Asher sits across from me, a half-eaten dinner roll now in his hand, his eyes avoiding mine. Now that I’m closer I can smell the fresh baked bread he’s holding, and it takes all my willpower not to rip it out of his hands like a starving wild animal.
“Well, you missed breakfast this morning,” Shae pauses with another wide grin, “and lunch. But you’re here for dinner, and that’s all that matters. That’s the best meal anyway.” She takes a bite of chicken.
