Vampiric: Chapter Eight, Part 1

Chapter Eight: Facing the Devil

“There’s no question about it,” Caroline was saying as she swerved in and out of traffic. Riding with her made me better respect Ian’s fast-paced driving; at least he wasn’t narrowly escaping an accident every two seconds. “You’re staying with me. I’ll even pick up your stuff from that place.”

I didn’t object, though the accommodations weren’t preferable. I hadn’t said anything since she had picked me up. No more tears would come, either. Even though I felt I could justify hating her, I didn’t. I think in part because when she had arrived, she didn’t start bossing. She just sat next to me, whispering the words I had tried to believe, rubbing my back to quell my tears. I think part of it was also due to the fact I didn’t feel anything at the moment. After the tears had stopped, I felt empty. There wasn’t anger or sadness, fear or a sense of hopelessness. There wasn’t even that feeling of dread I had been harboring the past months. Although that should have made me feel worse, there was only the familiar void of nothingness. That may have been partly due to some subconscious fear of completely shattering, a precaution my mind had taken to keep me somewhat together.

Caroline gazed at me, barely missing a red pickup in front of us, her dust filling with the far off sound of angry honking. “You should be able to fit my clothes;” she turned back to the road. “You can wear my things until I get yours.”

It wasn’t long before she drove into a parking garage attached to an all brick apartment building with large balconies lined with wrought iron railing. I didn’t ask; I didn’t honestly care to know. That didn’t stop her from saying, “This is what I call home at night. Unexpected, I know, but also complicated.”

Following her, my gaze settled just high enough to watch her shoes—a pair of high tops covered in a collection of colorful artwork reminiscent of graffiti.

“You can stay in this room,” she said pushing open a door just inside her apartment. “I’m just down the hall if you need anything.”

I sidled past her into the room. It was a decent space with a full sized bed completely made up in dark blues and stark whites. A cedar hope chest sat at the foot, turtle doves carved nestling against each other inside a wreath of intricately swirling vines. In the corner by the window was a cedar bureau decorated in a similar pattern of vines. From the window, a rooftop garden was visible, but I couldn’t stand to look at it—Drei used to keep a garden. I pulled the navy curtains closed.

“And Abriel,” Caroline said, still standing outside the doorway. I turned to face her. “It will get easier to live without him.” Tapping the doorframe lightly with her left-hand fingers, she slipped away, leaving me alone again.

I wasn’t yet sure which I preferred, but I sat on the bed, staring at the swirling embroidery of the curtains. The answers to my questions weren’t there, but it didn’t stop me from looking and hoping. The question I most wanted an answer to was “Why?”