Vampiric: Chapter Ten, Part 6

By mid-April, Caroline had deemed me emotionally stable enough to move out if I wanted. At the risk of sounding unappreciative, I had to admit I was more than ready to do so. We had already toured a few apartments on the upper side of town, at her insistence. What I wanted to see was apartments on the older side of town, though. I wanted the old brick building with no elevator—as crazy as she claimed it to be.

“This is it?” she asked uneasily, finding the building without much trouble. We had just finished at the spa, using our Christmas gifts for much needed relaxation.

“This is it,” I confirmed. I adored it from the outside with its old redbrick and traces of climbing ivy. The windows were shiny as though newly replaced, but the front door had seen better days; the stoop was narrow, but provided enough shelter if you needed to open an umbrella before stepping out.

“There’s not even a park nearby,” she complained, still trying to convince me to stay on her side of town. “And parking is ridiculous.”

“I don’t drive,” I said as she turned the corner, finally finding a space.

“But I do.”

Smiling, I said, “It’s not going to be your apartment.”

“That’s not what you’re going to say when you find out the bathroom is in the kitchen.”

“You’ve been watching too many old movies.” This apartment was at the top of my list and I could hardly wait to see it.

“Slow down,” she called after me.

Glancing over my shoulder, I told her, “No. You hurry up.”

The apartment I was looking at was on the fifth floor, and Caroline had plenty to say about that as well. The landlady was waiting inside for us, opening curtains and windows. Though the space was devoid of furniture, it was amazing and beautiful. The living room had hardwood floors and was spacious for as old as the building was. Off to the side was the kitchenette, complete with stove, refrigerator, and microwave. There was even a pantry disguised as a closet. The bedroom was on the opposite side. It was small, but workable, and the closet space was well worth it; the walls were a beautiful shade of pale violet and the floors were hardwood as well—I’d need to buy some throw rugs. Next to the bedroom, also accessible from the living room was the one bathroom. It was also a fabulous size considering I was the only one I had to worry about really using it. There was even baby blue tiling on the floor and in the shower.

I was in love. No matter how many things Caroline counted as negatives, it was all I wanted. The landlady admitted it was actually a little above the price range I had been looking for when I spoke with her on the phone, but it was all inclusive so my utilities would be on at move-in without any work on my part.

“Of course,” I said, still taking it all in. Something about the space just felt right. It felt like what I needed to move on completely.

 “Are you sure?” Caroline asked, still pouting a little. “You’d need to hire a super cleaning crew to get all of the dirt out of this place.”

“You’re one to talk,” I replied, grinning. “With as much carpet as you have, you can’t even see all the dirt you’re harboring.”

“Hey,” she said, indignantly. “Be nice. I’m driving you.” Walking through the bedroom again, just to remember everything until it was mine, she checked her cell phone. “Speaking of rides, we’re supposed to be meeting Ian.”

Glancing back at her, I nodded. Since the letters, we had started biweekly broadcasts and were working on setting up a march. At this point, we were finalizing the details, preparing to announce our plans.

“Come on already,” she insisted, grabbing my hand and pulling me away, briefly explaining we had a business meeting to the landlady. She smiled and I promised to be in touch.

“It’s perfect,” I said as we raced down the stairs.

“Glad. But I wish you’d live closer to me. It’s safer.”

“Nowhere is safe.”

Caroline started saying something else as we emerged onto the sidewalk and headed for the car. My attention had been drawn elsewhere, though. Something had changed in the air, some emotion. There were only a handful of people on the street and it was easy to tell they weren’t the source. Turning around, I saw it; the source of the change was a black SUV. Whoever was inside was sending out a unique mix of bitterness and concentration, as though stressed out. The passenger window rolled down as they neared, and, listening, I could hear the click of a gun being cocked.

A thousand different words and thoughts ran through my mind. Turning back, I reached out, trying to warn her, certain she was the target. “Caro—”

The air was sucked from my lungs as I was stopped in my tracks. The same instant I stopped, I was propelled into Caroline, her eyes wide and terrified. She was hysterical, nearly beside herself as she searched for her cell phone, demanding I stay with her. Caroline kept repeating it. That I needed to stay with her. All I could think was how I had been wrong. How, for some reason, my blood seemed to be covering her hands.

Vampiric: Chapter Ten, Part 5

Caroline and I were finishing prepping for the party they had planned for my birthday—lucky 22, Caroline insisted—w hen her cell phone started singing a rock hit.

“I’ll get it,” I said, twisting my hair behind my head so it would be ready for a clip. “Hello?”

“Turn on the news,” Ian said, exhilarated. “Caroline needs to see it, too.”

 Keeping the phone to my ear with the help of my shoulder, I picked up the remote as I asked, “Which one?”

“They’re all playing the same thing.”

“Who is it?” Caroline asked, donning a lacy black choker to go with her simple v-neck dress.

“Ian,” I said, finding a news station and seeing the red letter C hovering over the newscaster’s shoulder in a window.

“Holy crap,” Caroline gasped, standing beside me.

“It seemed last night’s broadcast from the infamous C was not just a prank,” the woman was saying as another window popped up with a frozen image of Caroline’s lips—the only thing anyone outside of our company ever saw. “While most viewers expected nothing to come of it, this afternoon’s mail revealed very much the opposite. Each household in the nation, according to our reports, received one of these crimson letters in her namesake.”

“We did it,” Ian said, startling me. I had forgotten I was still clamping the phone to my ear with my shoulder—which was easy enough to do as I had released my hair and dropped the remote when I had found the station. “The techs, your idea, my technique, her project…it’s really starting.”

The newscaster kept talking about the shock of receiving it, taking time to read through some of the online comments from the day as her image was replaced with photos they had taken of households displaying the sign in their area.

I was speechless. There was nothing to say. Ian had already said it best. We did it. We had officially taken the step from talk to walk and people were responding positively. People really were with us. More than we had thought, even.

“Give me the phone,” Caroline demanded. Her fingers wrapped around it as soon as it was within reach. “We’re brilliant!” She wrapped her free arm around my shoulders. “It’s finally here.”

Vampiric: Chapter Ten, Part 4

Caroline joined us then, sitting at her desk, tossing me a pad of paper. “How do we want our supporters to show the government this isn’t all hot air?”

“What about having them do something with the flag?” Ian asked, slipping easily into business-mode.

“No, it’s too direct an attack too soon,” Caroline argued, tapping a finger against her chin. “What about buying something?”

“Not everyone is going to want to spend money on something they won’t necessarily use,” I countered, logically, surprised I had switched gears as quickly as Ian. “How about an online petition or something like that?”

“We already have things like that. It doesn’t mean they’re all serious,” Ian returned, shaking his head. “We could do a download or something along those lines?”

“Nah,” Caroline dismissed, waving it off. “It wouldn’t be accurate. Some people would download just to see what it was. It has to be just for the supporters. The people who are taking this seriously. A game, maybe?”

“You’d run into the same problem,” I said. “People would buy it just to have it. And it would take ages to set up. You want something they can do now.”

“A nationwide march day,” Ian suggested. “It could work, right?”

“And not everyone who may support us could get off work,” Caroline said, pursing her lips. “Besides, that’s a lot of work to organize in not a lot of time. We want it to show up soon after the broadcast.”

“What about…” The idea was only half formulated in my mind, but it had promise. I remembered the sermons on the plagues of Egypt from back when I attended church. The Israelites had marked their doorways so their firstborns would be safe from the hand of death.

“What?” Caroline said with an edge to her voice, twirling a hand in the air. “We’re running out of ideas, so you might as well come out with it.”

“I don’t have it all figured out,” I confessed excitedly. “But what if we had them mark their house or apartment or wherever they live?”

“How do you mean?” Ian asked, sitting forward as well.

“Like, with a certain color or marking in the window or on the door. A way to admit…they’re supporting us without forcing them to spend money or do anything extravagant.”

“But what marking?” Caroline questioned, slightly skeptical, but her eyes alight with interest.

“That’s what I haven’t figured out.”

“I got it!” Ian smacked his hands together, his face glowing with pride. “The letter C. It’s how they know you, for one.”

“And it can be red,” I added. “The color of passion, and the most related to fire.”

“We’ll only have one for windows,” Caroline said, pointing at both of us. “On the door risks being stolen. And that wouldn’t do us any good.”

“I think it’s perfect,” Ian said, sitting back and smiling.

“Great thinking, Abs,” Caroline praised

“Don’t thank me yet,” I warned, the next problem coming to mind already. “We still have to figure out distribution.”

That took us forever. Most of the people celebrating were well gone by the time we came to a conclusion. For the longest time we toyed with the idea of sending them to a major superstore, but came to the dilemma of trust. Just because they arrived didn’t mean they’d be distributed for free. Then we played with the thought of setting it up online, but that was too risky. Too easy to trace to a source. Then Ian suggested a mass mailing. To hire different companies to mass produce these decals and then mail them to every household in their region. With the sponsorship money Caroline was somehow collecting in an offshore account under her project name, C, expenses weren’t a major concern. She was even willing to pay double to ensure the product was made and shipped so they arrived the day after the broadcast. And so everyone knew what it was for, she was going to talk to our technicians about hacking a satellite or something to make the announcement truly nationwide.

It was ingenious. Provided we could pull it off.

As the sun rose that morning, we left yawning, agreeing after a much needed rest, we’d use prepaid cell phones to call every sign company in the nation, setting them up to have the decals ready to mail in three week’s time. According to Caroline, she couldn’t have asked for a better team.

Vampiric: Chapter Ten, Part 3

Our first broadcast of the year was over, a magnificent success in beginning her call to action, so it provided another excuse for us to celebrate. Even though Ian, Caroline, and I had more work to do mapping out what action we wanted our now four million plus supporters—based on conservative estimates—to take. That was our next problem.

Ian and I waited at the back of the crowd as she made the toast that would commence the fête.

“This is not a celebration of victory,” she began, smiling around at everyone. “We haven’t won anything. This is not a celebration of everyone who has claimed to be one of us and spread our message. This is a celebration of us. Of everything we’ve accomplished over the past year, and everything we will strive for this year. This is to our team members who have left, those who have joined, those who have made sacrifices on our behalf and chose to stay in our company.” Her eyes stayed a moment on mine before moving on with her toast. “To continue on for the sake of people they do not know, but want to help. As we continue on this year, let us remember that out goal isn’t to take over. Our goal is to spread truth and aid the general public in realizing if they want a better life, they’ll have to make it, because our government will not.

“So this is to us! For all we have done, and all we have yet to do.”

“To us!” the crowd cheered, downing their poison of choice.

As music started up and people broke into groups to socialize, Ian and I slipped out, heading for her office. We expected her to be delayed by questions and adoration, possibly even drunken requests for a dance. Who knew? The employees were a wide range of people, all dependable and loyal but occasionally unpredictable. It’s what made them perfect.

“Ian,” I said as we sat in our usual seats, “is there some secret you have that you’d like to share?”

His sapphire eyes darted up momentarily, a flaming eyebrow raised in puzzlement. “Such as what?”

“Such as would explain that kiss on the cheek the night you told me to talk to Caroline.”

“Yes,” he admitted, sitting forward on his elbows. “I’m madly in love with you, love.”

The seriousness in which he said it made me laugh. “Really, though,” I said. “You didn’t move. So as flattering as that would be, it’s an outright fib.”

“If you know, why are you asking?” he asked readjusting his cap of the day—a crocheted cap in a houndstooth print.

Shrugging, I sat further back in my chair. “I want to hear it from you. Just as you wanted to hear it from me.”

“Fair enough,” he conceded, grinning mischievously. “But let’s make this a touch more interesting.”

“What?” That wasn’t part of my plan.

“Entertain me,” he requested, sweeping an open hand out to his side. “I’ll still let you in on my secret, but, what do you think it is?”

“That you’re an elemental, too.”

“Since I’ll be specific, you have to be as well,” he bargained, his smile growing larger. “So which element, love? You have a 25 percent chance of guessing right.”

“Air,” I replied. His personality was just too close to mine, and which else could blow a kiss so accurately?

“Seems you’ve found me out,” he smiled, leaning back again.

“Wasn’t hard when you gave yourself away.”

“I had planned on telling you when you told me,” he confided, seriously. “Then I was called away.”

“Does Caroline know?” I inquired, curious if he had ever shared with her.

“Well, I haven’t told her in so many words, but I’ve left plenty of clues for her. Whether she pieces the puzzle together or not is her choice,” he said, shrugging. I didn’t blame him. Just as she hadn’t directly told me she was fire, and I hadn’t outright told her I was air. We had simply revealed it to our advantage.

Vampiric: Chapter Ten, Part 2

As I had expected, Caroline sat in the living room, trying fruitlessly to focus on the paperwork before her. I watched her for a few minutes, witnessing her unease as she’d lift a page, sit back to read it, only to find herself staring blindly at it the next moment and trading it for another. Letting the door close noisily behind me, I shrugged out of my coat, feeling her eyes on me as she tried telling herself she wasn’t staring.

Taking Ian’s advice, I sat on the couch across from her, saying, “We need to talk.”

Caroline nodded. For the first time since New Year’s, I studied her and was surprised to see dark circles under her eyes.

“I’m sorry for blowing you off,” I began, slowly, figuring an apology was as good a place as any to begin. “I was…so upset by everything and I didn’t want to say something I’d regret.”

“I’m just grateful you’re talking to me again,” she said. She sighed and leaned back. “I have a question, though.”

“Yes?” I had a sickening feeling I knew what it was, which was worsened by the way she wouldn’t meet my eyes. Though I wasn’t sure I was ready to answer, I realized it was now or never. I had already waited too long.

“Why did he ask you to leave?”

It was my turn to sigh and sit back. There it was. Closing my eyes, I pretended I was talking to Ian again, when it had been somewhat easy to share. “He saw you kiss me and thought it was something more—”

“—when you were promoted and kept getting called away,” she finished, shaking her head dejectedly. Caroline ran her hands over her face, her fingertips stopping, tented under her nose. “God, Abs. I’m so sorry.” When she opened her eyes, I could see the tears pooling in them.

“It isn’t completely your fault,” I said. “I should have talked to him about it sooner, and he should have spoken to me as well.”

“But if I had been thinking…I shouldn’t have—”

“Caroline.” Now that she knew, I discovered I didn’t really want her to beat herself up about it. I just wanted things to be the way they had been, even if I didn’t think it was possible. “Nothing can change what happened. You didn’t know, and you weren’t expected to.”

“I’m sure there were signs I missed…that I ignored, Abs.”

“If there were signs we were anything more than…friends, at the most, it means we were careless,” I explained poorly. To fully explain the circumstances would take forever and even then she wasn’t likely to understand. “So if you knew, that means others knew, which means what should have happened would have been much worse.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, sitting forward on her elbows.

“It’s better if you don’t know,” I replied, really not wanting to go into that. “My point is, I didn’t want to outright blame you for that and whatever else I could think of at the time. I didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship while I was angry.”

Caroline stood and plopped down next to me, throwing her arms around my shoulders. “I thank you for that. If you had yelled at me, I would probably be the one not talking to you.”

“I know;” I smiled and hugged her back.

“Want to know something?” she asked, catching my gaze.

“Hm?”

“I think I know how you were feeling…still are feeling somewhat.”

“Ian kind of told me that,” I admitted, sheepishly. “Said I was behaving just as Drei had.”

“Exactly,” she said. “What if everything that happened was just because—”

“Stop.” I shook my head and closed my eyes. “This was his choice. We’ll both live with it so long as he chooses. Maybe longer. Don’t give me hope for anything different.”

“So if he came tomorrow and apologized, would you take him back?”

The question caught me off guard. I wanted to say yes, but less than five months ago I had told her I wouldn’t. “I’ll know if it happens.” It was the only honest answer I had.

“Not if, silly. When,” she corrected, squeezing my hand. “No worries, Abs. I’ll be optimistic enough for both of us. It will happen.”

Falling asleep that night, I couldn’t help but replay her logic and begin to hope she was right—against my own cautioning desires. Hope had brought him to me before and had kept me going this long; I could only have faith hope would be on my side again.

Vampiric: Chapter Ten, Part 1

Chapter Ten: Blood Thirst

Caroline tried to make me speak to her. From the minute she arrived back from the club she was outside my door begging me to listen. I wanted to yell at her, to tell how much I regretted her in my life, but I knew those words wouldn’t be entirely true. They were anger blowing everything out of proportion. So I laid there pretending to be asleep until after she gave up for the night.

For a couple of weeks, I avoided her. The thought of speaking with her filled me with inexplicable fury. I would wake up before her and leave for work early, then return after she had turned in for the night. At work, I listened to what she needed done and left before she could mix personal with business. I didn’t need to hear what I couldn’t trust myself not to respond rashly to.

Nights were an escape of sorts, though I knew my dreams weren’t helping to make things better. At least, I believed them to be dreams. Who knew? Drei was in all of them. Similar to the times before I had met him, he would slip into my room and lie beside me. He never spoke, but I assumed that was because I didn’t know what he would say. I had given up on imagining what he would say. But I knew it was him from the scent ingrained in his skin, the gentle way he tucked my hair behind my ear and kissed my temple. The way his fingertips trailed down my arm to lace between my fingers.

When I woke up, half-expecting to find him there, I was greeted by the gently swelling curtains. Since New Year’s, I had started sleeping with the window cracked open, letting the chill winter air wrap around me. It felt soothing and calming, helping me believe I would be ready to face her soon.

I even avoided Ian when he tried to speak on her behalf. He always felt so depressed when I walked away. For whatever reason, that depression clung to me, causing guilt to slowly grow alongside the dissipating anger.

One night as I was leaving work, Ian stopped me. “Get in;” he bobbed his head in the direction of his vehicle. When I didn’t budge or meet his gaze, he said, “We need to talk.”

“Why should I talk to you?” I asked, staring past him, incapable of finding an excuse.

“Because you’re doing the same damned thing he did to you.”

Meeting his eyes, I wanted to argue—felt the need to argue—but the words wouldn’t come. They were stuck in my throat. He was right.

I climbed into the passenger seat and steadied my gaze outside. He didn’t say anything straight away, trying to find the right words to start. I could feel his uncertainty and hear his struggle.

“Forget the flourishes and fancy way of talking around things,” Ian said suddenly, glancing at me. “What did she do to deserve this? Especially from you?”

“She talks to you?” I asked, staring through the windshield so I could watch him on the edge of my vision. I knew it was time to tell someone, even if it was Ian and not her.

“Yes.”

“Did she ever tell you she kissed me?”

He glanced at me, then did a double-take as if he thought he had misheard. “Kissed you?” he asked, sounding as though it grew more ludicrous as he repeated it. “You’re kidding.”

“No. She doesn’t know he saw. And neither would you. So neither of you would know that’s what started it.” I inhaled deeply, trying to steady my voice and keep the swelling emotion at bay. “Then she started calling all the time for my job, needing to see me…and it made things worse. It made him doubt me. Gave him reason to believe I didn’t love him anymore.”

“But why now?” he questioned, his loyalty to Caroline overriding his pity. “You could have held that against her five months ago when you first split.”

“Because then I could ignore it. She was helping me so much, but—” The words I had escaped me and nothing came in their stead—just empty strands of thought searching for something to hold onto.

Ian laid a hand down to stop me wringing mine. “What was it about that night?”

That night. I had avoided thinking about it, though rather unsuccessfully. “The way everything he did reminded me of Drei. Of our relationship when it was still working for us.”

“But why take it out on her now?”

I wondered if there was a reason he wanted to know it all, if it was his way of helping me prepare to talk with her or something else. The more I said to him, the less I felt angry and the more I felt like I could do this. I could tell her and it would be okay.

“I’m not trying to,” I said softly. “I was trying not to take it out on her.”

“Why this way?”

Shaking my head, I admitted, “Silence was better than saying something I’d regret.”

He pulled to the curb by the apartment building. “Talk to her, okay?”

“I don’t know how to start that conversation,” I whispered, shaking my head.

“And you think I knew how to start this one?” he teased, offering a knowing smile. I gazed at the silent building, knowing she was inside, possibly still up waiting. “Tell you what. Start with, we need to talk. See where it takes you.” Again, he was right, but this time I was grateful for his opinion.

My arms wound around his neck. “Thank you.”

“Go on. Putting it off only makes it worse.” After a moment, he grinned and added, “Good luck.”

As I climbed out of the car, I could have sworn I felt a kiss on my cheek. Glancing back, Ian winked at me and I made a mental note to ask him about that later on. I suspected while he knew our secrets, there was one of his own he should share—with me at least.

Vampiric: Chapter Nine, Part 10

“And now to start the year off right for the couples in the crowd,” the DJ announced, starting the music back up with a slow song.

“May I?” she asked hesitantly.

“Why not?”

Caroline spun me in a circle before we started slow dancing. Part of me knew it was dangerous because she probably still liked me, but I always hated sitting out on slow songs. And she was good about keeping it a dance between friends.

“Mind if I cut in?” the cutesy girl—the one Ian had been dancing with earlier—asked. She twisted a blond curl around her finger and ground the toe of her right shoe against the floor.

“For whom?” Caroline asked, though I’m not sure she actually saw the girl.

The girl’s dark eyes darted to the floor. “You.”

“Go ahead;” I stepped back. Caroline eyed the girl, and I could tell she was thinking how this girl was so unlike her past girlfriends. It was healthy for her to be uncertain, though. After they started dancing, I headed to the bar, the energy that had filled me previously replaced by extreme thirst.

“Lime water, please?” I took a seat.

“Hi,” a guy beside me said, slightly waving with the hand not holding his beer.

I nodded, otherwise choosing to ignore him. He was darkly tanned with sun-kissed brown hair and green-blue eyes. “Thanks,” I said to the bartender who handed me my water. I pulled a dollar from my wristlet and left it in the bucket on the counter.

“What’s your name?” he asked as I slipped from the stool and headed to the tables on the other side of the dance floor. I wanted to have fun, not be hit on by some gorgeous stranger. Even as I reminded myself I wasn’t looking for someone—not even to dance with—my mind argued that I still wanted the attention, that it wouldn’t hurt to hear someone tell me I was beautiful.

I caught sight of Ian at a table, but he was busy talking with the uptown miss, occasionally kissing her. The music returned to remixes as I found an empty table. The guy from the bar was following me. Not too close, but he wasn’t trying to disguise it either. I wasn’t sure if I was glad he had followed—if that was a compliment to me that he even would—or if I wished he would just go away. I did know that I wasn’t emotionally ready to deal with him. I had just started dealing with my other problems.

“Anyone sitting there?” He flashed me a dazzling smile. Pretending not to hear, I wondered if it’d be easier to turn him away if he didn’t look so handsome. Taking my silence as a no, he sat, sitting his beer on the table and saying, “Now, a lovely lady like you should have a name.”

Taking a sip from my water, I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. “Not one you need to know.”

He leaned forward on his elbows, capturing my gaze for a moment before I pulled away and stared at the crowd. “I’m Dominic, but everyone calls me Dom.”

“Well, Dom,” I said, glancing around again as if looking for someone, “I’m not interested.”

Dom didn’t say anything, but he pulled his chair closer to mine. One of his fingers trailed down my forearm, sending goose bumps along my skin. “You will be,” he insisted, the words just audible over the music.

I pulled my arm away from him, finishing my drink. At this point, I had two options. One of them I knew was the wrong choice, so I went in search of Caroline.

“Lovely, lovely lady,” he called, grabbing my hand and twisting me into his embrace. He was strong; I could feel the muscles in his arms flex around me. His body against mine was hard and sculpted. I wouldn’t have minded staying there if the proximity hadn’t reminded me of Drei. Of our dance lessons and how those often resulted in kisses.

“Let go,” I demanded, struggling to hold myself together. All I wanted now was to be home. To go to sleep and hope I could stop finding him everywhere. It didn’t seem possible I could go from being okay with thinking about him to being close to tears because of one stranger. I hated it.

“What’s the matter, lovely lady?” I could feel his eyes scanning my face as I tried to find Caroline. If I could see her, I could send her a message. I could ask her to make him stop, because I couldn’t without drawing too much attention and I was technically supposed to be dead.

His lips found mine and, for a brief moment, I was caught up in the alcoholic smokiness of his breath before it started to choke me; smoke turned out to be far worse than water. I tried pushing him away, breaking from his embrace, but he wouldn’t let go; I knew tears weren’t too far off. Blanketing the room, I searched for Caroline that way, trying to ignore his nipping at the base of my neck. His lips were tickling my skin, bordering on being consummately distracting. And in all the wrong ways.

“Caroline,” I whispered, finally finding her in the crowd. She turned in my mapping, apologizing to her partner. “Stop,” I said, trying to pull away.

“Why are you crying?” he asked stupidly before his head jerked backwards.

“Maybe because she doesn’t like being treated like that,” Caroline yelled, yanking on his hair some more. I couldn’t imagine what he was feeling but waves of heat were washing from her and the people nearby were backing away. He let go, pain etched across his face.

Without staying around to hear whatever she was saying to him, I pushed my way through the crowd, trying to find my way out. I couldn’t stay here. I had to go. I needed fresh air, to breathe, to try and slow my racing pulse.

Someone grabbed my hand from in the crowd and pulled me along. Ian glanced back at me. “No worries, love,” he said, smiling grimly. He didn’t let go of my hand until we were outside. I wished we were at the beach still so I could walk out over the water, inhale the heavy sea breeze and calm down. But we weren’t at the beach. And all I could inhale was the stale city air, traces of smoke finding its way into my lungs.

Caroline wasn’t far behind us, running to catch up. When she did, she wrapped her arms around me saying, “God, Abs. That was awful. I’m so—”

I tore out of her embrace, not wanting her to touch me. At that moment, I couldn’t stand her. Drei wasn’t here because of her. And though Dom wasn’t her fault, being at that club was. In that instant, I could have blamed her for almost anything. We had toasted to a happier New Year and it was already worse.

“What’s wrong, Abs?” she asked, her voice soft and pained.

Waving it off, I knew the wisest thing to do was to not say anything. So, filled with anger and a renewed hurt, I hailed a cab back to the apartment, wishing more than ever she would have let me move out.

Vampiric: Chapter Nine, Part 9

Caroline hooked her arm around my waist as we entered the club. She knew the bouncer so we didn’t have to wait in line with everyone else. Ian draped an arm over her shoulders and asked if we wanted any refreshments.

“I’ll take a Jack and Coke,” Caroline said over the din.

“For you, love?”

“Water, please.”

As he slipped past us toward the bar, Caroline led me through the crowd of gyrating bodies. I could barely hear myself think over the music and shouts of friends ready to find a new scene. Streamers and nets of balloons decorated the ceiling. The tables were covered in New Year confetti. Picking up some of the plastic confetti, I sprinkled it in Caroline’s hair.

“Now you look festive;” I giggled. She was about to the do the same to me when I stopped her hand and reminded her, “You dressed me for tonight. No confetti.”

Flicking her wrist, it ended up in my hair anyway. “Now I’m done dressing you,” she teased, grinning.

She had come into my room before we left and insisted what I had put together wasn’t right for New Years. Then digging through my closet, she picked out a sleek, strapless black dress and a pair of slingback heels. Grabbing my brush, she pulled my straightened hair out of its bun and smoothed it out, saying it looked sexy. Dusting a touch of foundation over the scars on my arms—not the first time she had seen them—she deemed me ready to go out.

Caroline was decked out in an off the shoulder number, crimson red to match her flowing hair. Even the soles on her black kitten heels matched. Ian had whined on the drive over about how he hated the dress shirt she picked out for him while she complained about his hat. She let him keep it because I told her it matched. It didn’t stop her from pouting a little, though.

Ian set the drinks on the table. “Here we go—” He repressed a laugh and Caroline scowled at him. “I didn’t think we’d be wearing the décor.” We both threw confetti at him for that, laughing as some of it stuck to his cap.

“To half an hour left in this year,” Caroline toasted when he sat down, raising her drink.

“To a better year,” I added, lifting my lime water—Ian insisted it was the only way they would serve water tonight.

“And to happiness,” Ian tossed in, clinking his margarita against our glasses—he claimed New Years was the one time of year he condoned drinking.

When our drinks were finished, Caroline pulled us both from our seats and onto the dance floor, sliding between pairs and groups to the center. There she started her dance, seeming to spread this energy to Ian and I, possibly even to those around us as well, so that we joined her. It felt strange and exhilarating to just move, to thrive on energy I didn’t know I had. At some point, I realized Ian had left us to dance with a fabulous looking guy. A few moments later, the guy had been traded for a cutesy girl who looked barely 21.

“Which is he?” I asked Caroline over the music.

“Anything and everything. Nothing when he feels like it.” She twirled me around. “Sometimes I wish I could be like that and just not care. But I do.”

“Me, too,” I said, spinning her around.

The music stopped and the DJ announced there was one minute until midnight. Caroline dragged Ian away from his new partner—an older looking woman with high cheek bones who held herself with poise and elegance, as though she was either famous or very wealthy.

“My favorite girls,” he said, wrapping his arms around us.

“Eight…”

The crowd had already started the countdown. I joined in, but I suddenly didn’t feel right. It felt like this happiness would disappear before the night’s end. I didn’t want that to happen, but I couldn’t stop it either; I resented being able to tell.

“Three…two…one!”

Caroline and I kissed Ian on the cheek and he kissed each of us on the forehead as the balloons and more confetti rained down upon us.

“Happy New Year, loves,” he wished, hugging us tight before disappearing to his uptown partner and kissing her before the minute changed.

“Happy New Year,” I wished Caroline, trying not to let this sensation ruin the evening.

“Same to you,” she said, smiling, failing to notice something had changed. I guessed that was a good thing, though; it was better not to dampen her mood. She should enjoy the party. “And may this one be better for your heart.”

Vampiric: Chapter Nine, Part 8

Christmas morning was interesting. We gathered downstairs and presents were passed out, but no one moved to open them. Then Ian insisted her parents start, Caroline backing him. All of their gifts were thoughtful and beautiful, my own to them a set of 20 pairs of scented taper candles and two glass, box-shaped candle holders. Caroline opened hers next and politely thanked her parents for the cashmere sweaters. I didn’t know what to get her, so I gave her a certificate for a few spa days—not that I was insinuating anything.

Ian refused to open his before me, so I went next. He had given me a spa day package to the same place I had picked up Caroline’s. Her gift was a pearl necklace—“Because every girl needs one.” I was surprised her parents had also given me a gift—a tri-gold piece, the different gold strands entwined to create a thin rope necklace.

Ian opened his last, thanking me for the collection of crocheted caps, then laughing when he found Caroline had gifted him a similar set. Caroline had also given him a set of oil paints to accompany the large canvases from her parents. Well, it was the receipt for the canvases which were to be delivered to his loft sometime after the holidays.

While we were at the beach house, her parents were pleasant, but I had this strange sensation it was all a ruse. That while I walked on the beach—sometimes over the water—not all was as it seemed. I didn’t press Ian or Caroline for answers; I didn’t much want them. It seemed silly to add more problems to my plate before my own were taken care of.

Sometimes I wished I would ask, though. Every time I would talk to Caroline, she seemed tense, as though she was reeling in her stress and anger so as not to worry me. Even Ian seemed changed; he wasn’t as relaxed and carefree. I wondered if it was something her parents kept telling them. They never called me in to talk like they did those two. It made me grateful, though I felt slightly guilty.

When we left, Caroline confided that she was glad the rounds were done until Easter. Ian teased her that he didn’t have to return for another year and she slapped him on the arm for it. I was willing to bet he would have been smacked upside the head, but he was driving.

Whatever had happened while we were there was past, thankfully. I was discovering part of the peace I found came from their energy. Still able to feel the caress of the ocean breeze in combination with their typical energy, I felt much better. Things were slowly returning to normal.