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.