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 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.”

Elemental: Chapter Ten, Part 1

Chapter Ten: Wolfish Sheep

New Years came with less pizzazz than Halloween but, like all beginnings, it had a way of staying memorable.

Waking up that morning, I hadn’t realized what was coming, or even what had passed, and it hadn’t occurred to me the old year was over but not yet out. It was raining and a miserable day, but memories never let you stay down long, especially not on New Years.

My year was bittersweet at best. I loved Nick, lost Drei—in a sense—and rebuilt a life when I wasn’t sure there was anything left to start over. It seemed impossible Nick had only arrived ten months ago, or that already we were so close. Neither did it seem likely Valetta and I were best friends, confiding everything—though not always saying it aloud. My relationship with the kids blossomed, but suffered slightly due to Nick. I was like their temp mom: here to kiss the scrapes better, dry the tears, and work out disagreements. It was amusing, to Nick, anyway. I took it seriously.

Two things I couldn’t manage to keep from my thoughts long were the fact something might be wrong with Drei, and Jake’s warning. I had said everything because it had felt right; but the more I thought about it, I wasn’t ready to give up anything; not Nick, Drei, the kids, Valetta, or my life. None of it. But I sensed judgment on my promise was closing in. There was something in the air that made me anxious, even through the downpour.