My Shadow, My Vampire

Chapter Two

When I wake up the next morning, I have complete control of my body. The first thing I do is stretch. Broken memories of the past twenty-four hours flit like falling leaves through my mind. Physical sensations pluck me from the depths of my psyche and deposit me into the real world. It smells like old house, and a little like somebody's grandma. Everything aches, from the grind of my spine to to the crown of my head to the soles of my feet. I sigh shakily, grateful for that awareness. I am anchored again. I won't be floating anywhere anytime soon. My t-shirt has dried, as has my skirt, and my sneakers have been tugged off my feet. I sniff. I also smell a little. Instantly I think of my shower at home.

I push myself into a sitting position. The room seems ordinary enough, your standard upper-middle-class grandma's white and blue guest room—if a bit dated—until my gaze lands upon the large man sleeping on his back, right there on the floor beside my bed. I blink at him for a few moments. And then, as I'm staring at him, his eyes open and he stares right back at me. I shiver. Had he really been sleeping at all? What kind of sixth sense...We hold one another's gaze for a tense moment, and he blinks first. "Good morning," he intones smoothly in extremely British tones.

"Hi." At least my voice is working properly. "Shadow. Rhett. Whatever you are." I feel suddenly weary of him now that the post-zap is finally gone. "I'm Sev."

"I know."

"Yeah, that much is clear," I reply doubtfully.

"You'll also know, then, that you've just been hit quite directly by lots of lightning."

"It has recently come to my attention," I say drily.

"And that you saw me in the shadows," he says, finally breaking his eerie stillness and propping himself up on his elbows. "Which no human has ever done before. Ever." He blinks. "And ever is a long time, in my case."

"In the shadows?" I repeat, my voice small. My mouth is dry, and I scan the room for some water. Damn. Out of luck.

Rhett doesn't reply. I try something else. "Did you save me from that mugger?"

"Probably."

"Probably?"

"Beau thinks it's a good policy to always maintain plausible deniability."

"The French one?" I raise an eyebrow. "And I take it you always do what Beau tells you to do."

Rhett grins. "Almost never."

"So, then—what the fuck are you? And when can I go home?"

Rhett's grin drops. "Whenever you like, of course. I—" he tilts his head, studying me. "Come on, Sev. You know what I am. You can at least sense it. You more than anyone."

"Not human," I reason.

"Once and never again," Rhett intones.

"You're not the devil, are you?"

"That's Beau. Or actually, probably Ava. No, wait." Rhett's eyes flicker to the ceiling, to the third floor. A sly smile creeps over his face. "If any of us were really the devil, my money's on Eugene."

"So there's four of you here?"

"That's right."

"Like some sort of...family...pack...or cult...or something?"

Again, Rhett smiles cooly. "Something like that."

"And what am I doing here, then? How did you see me when I was—you know..."