Page 27 of Cuddling Sucks in Coffins
Another wave of panic threatened to suffocate me at the desperate situation I was in. No slayer powers while I was the target of a dark unknown—what could go wrong? But I gripped that panic in my fists and morphed it into something useful. I shoved harder against the lid until a slightly lighter shade of dark siphoned through. Stone scraped against stone as I continued sliding the lid off, so loud in the deafening quiet, but Ronick didn’t stir.
Finally, when I was able to wave my hands above me, I slipped out of the coffin. After closing the lid using my whole body weight—mostly that in my ass—I looked around. Through the flapping corner of the garbage bag taped to the window, a thin strip of orange lit a navy sky. From behind the half-open door up the stairs, birds brought in the chilly November morning with a song. The normalcy of these sights and sounds almost lulled me into a sense of security, but I wasn’t fooled. Not for a second.
I crept up the stairs with two halves of my pencil at the ready and then angled my head so only one eye peered outside. Fall leaves skittered across the graves and stopped at the base of the normal-looking headstones. The statues stood upright and proper, as statues should, with no hint of melting fangs. Paul’s static noise didn’t touch the chilly air, and no one waved pitchforks while shouting death threats at me.
The day was looking up.
On quiet feet, I slipped out into the morning. My gaze glued to the house next door to the cemetery, searching for any signs of life. Or death. Naturally I wanted to hurl myself at its door to find out if my vamps were okay, but I forced myself to go slow, to take measured footsteps in case the vampire I’d left behind happened to spy where I was headed from the darkness of the mausoleum. The very last thing I wanted to do was lead him directly to Jacek, not until I was ready.
So I tore my gaze from my vamps’ house as I exited the graveyard, leaving the lock undone should anyone want to visit their dead. You’re welcome, Podunk City. Thanks for not killing me last night.
The streets were still empty and quiet at this hour, but I tiptoed along them anyway, past my vamps’ house. When I reached the end of the block, I doubled back but kept to the bushes and then slunk up onto their porch, where I kept a copy of the key they’d given me for my birthday underneath a potted planet. When I retrieved it, it cut into my palm in my tight grip.
I hadn’t seen anyone alive that entire trek. My mind flashed me possible reasons, all of them horrible. What if Paul’s magic had killed everyone when it wore off?Ifit had worn off. What if the magic was triggered again when someone saw me? I had no idea how his magic worked. What if my vamps weren’t even here? Whatif?
All I knew for sure was that I couldn’t bear it if Paul’s words rolled off their tongues or if I saw Paul’s sole life goal reflected in their red eyes. I hated myself for throwing holy water at them even though I knew I had to. And when I’d considered killing them just to get away...
My eyes flooded. A deep tremble shook through my body, so encompassing I could hardly fit the key inside the lock. We’d shared so much of ourselves with each other. I didn’t want them to be ripped away from me so soon when I had absolutely no one else.
The door swung open to silence, but it roared with the sense of home. Just like it always did, the house’s warmth and coziness seeped through my skin and touched my soul. The familiar smells of pie and lavender and something I didn’t know washed over my senses, but I couldn’t immediately see if Sawyer had left a plate of pie and coffee on the kitchen table. My tears fell too hard.
I shut the door behind me, and as soon as I did, as soon as the sunlight was safely left outside, three figures blurred into the living room. So fast I couldn’t even tell which part of the house they came from. My three vamps. Here, with me. Their eyes were orange-yellow, their faces free from any holy water burns and Paul’s warped magic. It was their agonized expressions, minus the bitey murder magic, that triggered my lungs to inhale a relieved breath. My lungs’ first in a long while.
“Hi.” It came out as a half sob, half choke.
“Sunshine... You’re alive?” Eddie rasped. He pushed his glasses up his nose, a slight tremble in his arm and a haunted look on his face.
I could only imagine the memories that must’ve stirred in him about his family if he’d thought I was dead.
“Belle,” Sawyer said, his voice rough. “We remember everything, but we couldn’t control it. None of us could.”
“I know.”
Jacek started toward me, just a wary step, as he ticked his gaze from my face to my police uniform to the pencil halves in my hand. “You have every right to put those pencils to use, but would you be willing to hear us first?”
“No.”
He cocked his head. “No?”
“There’s no need to explain,” I said. “I know it wasn’t you who tried to kill me last night.”
They recoiled, seemingly at my word choice, each of their expressions stricken.
“Did I hurt you with the holy water?” I asked, wiping the tears from my cheeks.
“You’re worried aboutus?” Jacek shook his head and looked at me with something resembling awe.
“We healed.” Sawyer’s golden gaze searched my face and body. “You didn’t.”
I took a deep breath, suddenly feeling like I might sink to the floor just from emotional exhaustion alone. “My slayer powers have also gone for a stroll, I guess. I’ll explain later, but I can’t imagine how I must look. Probably about as good as I smell.”
Eddie gazed down at the space between us. “When you walked through that door just now, I’ve never seen such a beautiful sight. When we were ourselves again, we searched everywhere for you before sunrise forced us home. I’ve never been more worried or horrified in my entire life.”
Warmth blossomed inside my heart. That was quite a thing for him to say.
“Will you forgive us?” Jacek asked.
The better question was if he’d forgive me for playing on his enemy’s side.
