In the Dark Read online

  Every day Sebastian spent away from the pack gave him the opportunity to recall more. Since leaving, he had found a few more tattered memories, dragged up from wherever they had all gone over the years. That was the use.

  He opened his eyes, and tensed to find his room a wash of red. It startled him – and then he realized. Tears.

  It had been so long.

  None fell. The liquid welled in his eyes, then dissipated.

  He wiped his eyes, tightened his jaw, and went on with his exercises until dawn.

  IAN

  The pillowcase was stiff with dry blood when I woke up, my face covered in it. I’d cried myself to sleep again as the sun came up. Not because Sebastian had glared at me, although that hadn’t helped matters. Just because I missed Kent and felt lonely and wanted to go home. I wiped at my face, but the dried blood only crumbled and dusted the bed more. I sighed and decided to check out the bathroom attached to this room.

  My body twinged from all the exercise the night before – climbing in and out of the house, walking all the way home, running like mad across the neighborhood. I didn’t smell like sweat, though, or like anyone does when they first wake up. Kent had explained that I was basically a corpse. Regular showers and deodorant were things of my past life. My hair needed brushing, though, and I seriously needed to wash my face.

  Of course the bathroom was large and ritzy. Antique tiling in the shower; old, shiny gold knobs on the faucets; a pillar sink with an enormous mirror above it. A shelf by the sink held a brush, a bar of soap and a towel, otherwise, the room was bare. I used the brush on my rat’s nest and the soap on my face, wishing I had something to change into besides Sebastian’s clothes.

  After splashing the soap off my face, I looked up to stare at myself in the mirror. Pale and wet with flashing green eyes. My near-black hair made my skin seem porcelain, and my white skin made my lips look almost blood-red. I didn’t look my best, but I didn’t look as bad as I should have. No swollen eyes, swollen nose, dark circles, marks of a sleepless night.

  A vampire.

  The signs of it were obvious to me. To anyone else, I supposed I seemed exotic.

  I gave myself an angry glower like Sebastian had given me the night before. Even with my fangs bared I didn’t look nearly as scary as he had. I turned away from the mirror and left the bathroom.

  In the main bedroom I pulled on the jeans and button-up I’d worn the night before. Sebastian’s clothes. The way he’d glared at me last night was like he wished I would just go get myself killed. Or like he wished he’d never stopped to ask me if I needed help. So why had he brought me home?

  I bit my knuckle, carefully avoiding my fangs. Any cuts I made would heal up over the day, but I would have them all night and fang slashes stung like paper cuts.

  Maybe I needed to go talk to him. Maybe after some time to calm down, he wouldn’t bite my head off or give me filthy glares for speaking. And I thought maybe I needed some answers to a few things. I left the room and went to find Sebastian.

  He had the dusty little TV on in the living room, standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed. He reached out to flip it off when I came in. I paused. He could hear again. Or he’d seen my reflection somewhere.

  “Good evening,” he said. As if nothing unpleasant had happened the night before.

  “Hey.” My voice was thick. I cleared my throat. “Look, can we talk?”

  One of his eyebrows flicked up. “Certainly,” he said, and stood there. Waiting.

  I looked at the floor to gather my thoughts.

  “Did you kill Kent?” I asked, since it was my deepest fear.

  “No.” As if I had asked him about the weather.

  I started to tremble. Actually standing here asking this stuff was very different from thinking about it. “Do you know the woman who did?”

  “No.”

  His face didn’t betray anything. His eyes stayed flat and calm. I took that as a good sign, that he hadn’t lied to me. “Why are you helping me?” I asked next.

  A tiny flash of his lip happened – I thought it meant he’d smiled. I almost didn’t see the movement. “I am sure you would not believe me if I told you it was out of the goodness of my heart,” he said.

  My eyebrows jumped. I probably would have, if he’d said it right.

  “No,” I said instead.

  He shrugged. “To be honest, I am bored. I have been on a personal quest that involved having no contact with others. A quest I am finding quite difficult. Solving mysteries and exacting revenge are things I know how to do. Your dilemma offers me a respite.”

  Odd answer. “You know how to exact revenge?

  He nodded, once.

  I gulped. “So you’ve . . . practiced . . . a lot.”

  His eyes flashed, hardening a little. “I have.”

  “Only for revenge, though?” I asked, high-pitched. Thinking I could justify it if he’d only killed bad people.

  He stared at me, eyes boring into mine. “I believe you know the answer to that.”

  Okay. Not so much.

  “Are you going to kill me?” I squeaked.

  Humor in his eyes this time. “No.”

  “Why is that funny?” I said, then more forcefully, “why are you laughing at me?”

  “I’m not laughing.”

  Technically, no, his face was a stone. Only his eyes had flickered.

  “You know what I mean,” I said, because I knew he did. “That thing in your eyes when you think something’s funny, why is that funny?”

  More humor. “Because, Ian, I have never been a murderer of children.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “No. You asked why I found your question amusing. That’s why.”

  My mouth snapped shut. I had wanted to feel reassured and instead, I only felt more uncertain. I still wanted to trust him, but how did you trust anyone who admitted to murder?

  “Dammit,” I said. Then again.

  “Are you done?” he asked.

  “Promise me you won’t kill me.” I felt stupid the second it left my mouth.

  “Will that make you feel better?”

  Good question. “Are you a liar?”

  Humor flashed. He didn’t have to say why.

  “Just answer me,” I said, glad I couldn’t blush.

  “No. I have never lied to anyone. I don’t intend to start.”

  “All right,” I said, and had to gulp insane giggles that suddenly wanted to come. “Promise me you won’t kill me.”

  “I promise, Ian.”

  I stood there fidgeting. I sounded like an idiot. He sounded calm, like he dealt with people like me every night. I bit my tongue to keep the giggles in.

  “Done?” Sebastian asked.

  “Done,” I said.

  “Good. You’re still experiencing some shock, and you’re panicking. I want you to sit down and be still until you feel better.”

  That made too much sense. A giggle got free. More came before I could stop them, and I started laughing like a nut. A sick and painful laughter, the kind that only comes out when nothing’s funny. Sebastian pushed me into a chair, gently but firmly. Something in my gut melted unpleasantly, and the laughter turned into tears.

  “I want to go home,” I sobbed.

  Sebastian crossed his arms. “This shouldn’t last long.”

  “I want to go home, and you’re a killer, and I’m laughing because Kent’s dead!” I yelled, but I wasn’t laughing at all. I curled in a ball, tucked my face into my arms and cried.

  A hand touched my shoulder. I winced away, then let him touch me. The chair beside me sank under his weight and an arm snaked around my shoulders, hesitantly. Sebastian hugged me. Distantly, as if he didn’t want to break me.

  Murderer, vampire, stranger; he was here, he had his arms around me, and I didn’t have anyone else. I leaned against him and hid my face against his shoulder.

  After a while the sobs wound down, leaving me hiccupi
ng and wet-faced. Sebastian kept his arms around me the whole time, silent. Once I stopped, he let me go and stood up. I wished he hadn’t. I didn’t ask him to come back.

  “Better?” he asked.

  I snuffed and took stock. The hurt had gone, but so had everything else. I felt numb. “Kind of.”

  He nodded. “Wash your face. I’ll get you another shirt. We need to go back to your home tonight.”

  Too wrung out to question, I stood and did what he said. With the blood washed off my face and wearing yet another button up, I dragged my feet back out to the living room.

  “Why are we going back to my house?” Even my voice sounded tired.

  “To see if anyone touched anything or searched after we left. Either one of the two could have gone back later on.”

  I followed him to the elevator, arms folded across my chest. “To see if anything they touched might tell us who they are, or what they want?”

  “Yes. There were no reports on the local news broadcast of your home being broken into. That means your house is still most likely unexamined, other than what the two women might have done.”

  “I wanna get my cat,” I said. It got me a flat look that I couldn’t read, but he didn’t say no. The elevator opened to let us on and whooshed shut behind us.

  IAN

  We went past the house. He had to know the place after last night, but he went right by. I opened my mouth to say something, then realized: we didn’t know if one of those women had come back to wait in the house for us. Pulling into the driveway where they could see us would be dumb. Sebastian had parked a few blocks away last night, so neither one should know his car; cruising past and parking further down was probably safe. Not to mention smarter. That’s what he did.

  “Do you want me to come with you or wait here?” I asked as he killed the engine.

  “I’ll need you in the house. I won’t know if anything is out of place.” He stared at a screen on the dash. It looked like a video of the back window.

  I turned around. The car had no back window. I turned to the screen in the dash again. It showed what a mirror would have shown if there was a window. So he was watching my house. For one second, I wondered what a car like this would cost . . . then decided I didn’t want to know.

  Out of curiosity, I cleared my throat while Sebastian glared at the screen. His eyes flicked to me, then back at the dash. He could definitely hear again. And I’d just gotten used to his deafness. Or at least, I’d learned to wait to yell at him until he faced me. He still hadn’t said anything to me about last night . . . probably didn’t want to talk about it. I wasn’t sure I wanted to, either. We’d sort of made up earlier. Sort of. Maybe that would have to be good enough.

  “We can heal deafness?” I asked.

  “If it is sustained after the change, yes. A vampire who was deaf as a human will remain deaf.”

  He glared at the house a few more minutes, then opened his door. “Quiet,” he said, as if I needed to be told. I nodded and threw in a suffering look for good measure. Sebastian ignored me.

  We got out and stayed low, slinking towards my house through the neighbor’s yards, keeping close to walls, fences, bushes. I started breathing halfway there. At least it wasn’t raining. When we got up close to my house, Sebastian made a “wait here” gesture by putting his hand in my face. I stuck my tongue out, which seemed to confuse him, but I stayed put.

  He snuck up on the house like a cat stalking a bird: one careful, hidden inch at a time. It must have taken him ten minutes to cross my backyard. I stayed as still as I could the whole time, positive that flicking my eyes would give me away.

  What if one of them was here? What if she had seen the car after all and expected us? What if she was creeping up behind me right now while Sebastian checked out an empty house?

  I tried not to look behind me, tried to tell myself if I turned my head it would be a bigger give-away than staying still. I turned around.

  No one was there.

  “Ian.”

  I jumped and bit my lip so hard I got blood, and a little scream still squeaked out. Sebastian stood behind me, eyes flashing with laughter.

  “Don’t do that!” I hissed at him, and sat down. My legs had started trembling too hard to stay squatting.

  “My apologies.” He sounded absolutely sincere – except for those laughing eyes. I glared at my boots.

  “The house appears safe to me,” he said. “I saw no footprints aside from those made last night and no other forced entrances or exits. All of the ground floor rooms seem clear. There are rooms in the basement, I take it?”

  “Bedrooms. Mine and Kent’s.”

  He nodded. “Be quiet when we go inside.”

  I met his eyes, dark now, and puckered my eyebrows. “Now?”

  He nodded. He thought there might be someone in there, and he wanted to go in and see. Sounded like insanity to me, but I figured a hardened killer was probably at least semi-insane. I got up on shaky legs, took one deep breath and let it out.

  “All right,” I said.

  He turned and led me across the yard to the broken window the woman had used to get in last night. It led into the dining room. Outside the window, he pointed to himself, then me – him first, then I follow. I nodded. He grabbed the sill and hoisted himself through with barely a whisper of fabric, all in one smooth motion. Like a liquid shadow.

  I saw him bob back up from his landing, then hauled myself up and through. I was not as graceful. Broken glass crunched and fell inside, hitting the floor with a musical tinkling sound. My boot hooked on the frame as I slid through, so when I tried to put my legs under me, the one stayed up in the window. I fell straight to the floor.

  Thud.

  One foot still hooked on the window frame, lying on a now-bruised hip, I cringed. Sebastian didn’t even look at me, which surprised me. I expected a glare. Instead he watched the door, head to one side, listening. I unhooked my foot and got off the floor as quietly as I could. Sebastian put his finger to his lips, head still cocked.

  Well, duh.

  We stayed still like that for a long, long time. Longer than I would have. Did he hear something I couldn’t? I tried to listen with him, turning my head to get a better angle. Nothing.

  My knees creaked from holding still so long. I tried to remember the sounds the house always made, listened for them. I heard the clock in the kitchen ticking if I really listened hard. Gypsy ran up the stairs from the basement, a soft patter-patter accompanied by the tinkling of the bell on her collar. I shook my head.

  Sebastian finally lost his listening pose. He turned around to give me a once over. “Hurt?” he said in a near-whisper.

  I shook my head. Just my pride. “I didn’t hear anything,” I said. “Why did you listen so long?”

  He waved a hand at Gypsy as she trotted into the room. “I heard movement below. I thought it was your cat, but I wanted to be sure.”

  “You heard her all the way downstairs?”

  He nodded and turned to leave the room. I gathered Gypsy up in my arms and followed. She purred, rubbing her head against my chin. “How could you hear her all the way down in our rooms?”

  He headed for the front door. “How much did Kent tell you about us?”

  I stopped petting Gypsy. “Why?”

  He checked the front door, running his fingers along the outside edge, examining the doorknob. I didn’t know what he was looking for, so I stayed out of the way.

  “Tell me what you know of your new condition.” His voice was still low, but closer to a normal speaking level. He turned his attention to the windows.

  “Everything?”

  “Yes.”

  I bit my lip. Death hadn’t been much different from life, really. Except for the blood.

  “I know we’re dead. No pulse, no breathing, no body heat or body odor. We absorb blood through our stomachs the way a frog absorbs water through its skin, so that’s why you can still get blood from your wrist or your neck even thoug
h you don’t have a heartbeat. We can’t faint or blush. I know my hair will grow back in one night if I cut it off.” I fingered my nose ring; just a little silver hoop. I would have the hole forever, Kent said, because I got it before the change. My belly-button ring though – that piercing had healed in one day, and if I took it out the hole would grow shut that fast. “I knew I could heal cuts and scrapes and bruises while I slept, but I didn’t know I could heal deafness or anything serious in one night. And I know all that stuff about crosses and garlic and holy water isn’t real.”

  “The old legends do have some basis in truth,” Sebastian corrected me. “For example, a human who eats a strong food, such as garlic, will carry that taste in their blood. I imagine that might repel some of our kind, although I know some who enjoy it.”

  The thought of a vampire stalking humans who’d just eaten Italian grossed me out a little, but I nodded. I’d tasted different things in blood before – mostly different drugs or alcohol. I had actually guessed something like what Sebastian just said. Folk lore didn’t come from nowhere, after all.

  Sebastian moved from one window to another.

  “Finding anything?” I asked.

  “The door is trapped.”

  That stopped me in my tracks. I turned to the door. It seemed fine to me. “How?”

  “Plastic explosive connected to a trip-wire in the key hole. From the outside.”

  I stared at it. How could he tell what was on the outside? “Good thing I didn’t have my keys,” I said. I meant it to lighten the situation, but it came out shocked.

  “Yes.”

  Gypsy mewed. I let her hop down.

  “What else do you know?” Sebastian asked, moving on to the next window.

  I kept watching the door like it might rip off its hinges and get me. “Wait, how could the door be trapped? I thought you said there weren’t any footprints other than the ones we made last night?”

  “It must have been done before you came back here.”