My Shadow, My Vampire

Chapter Six

I sneak a resentful glance over at Silas asleep in the passenger seat. I tried to insist that it would be safer for him to drive himself to his tournament—that I wasn't his mom (that was Shai's job) and to boot, I've been so unlucky lately it was practically a foregone conclusion that something would go wrong with his car the moment I got behind the driver's seat. But Silas has extremely convincing puppy-dog eyes and he'd been talking about this tournament for the past month. Besides, I needed some time away. Something tells me there's a reason the vampires are settled in our small New Jersey town, and that they won't leave for the same reason.

It's been two weeks since Rhett saw me at the coffee shop. Since then, I've felt him every once in a while—walking home with me, or lingering at my doorway as I leave for an errand. Each time he shows up, my reaction is instantaneous, and I'm sure he can sense it. My heartbeat picks up. I have the urge to bite something, like I'm two again. I have the overwhelming need to touch him. It's become impossibly hard to resist saying anything, not when I know we both can feel the want of the other. Not when his presence makes me want to jump out of my body just to see him.

The car ran shockingly fine on the way—and this time, no shadow. No Rhett. Everything went surprisingly smoothly—I drove Silas the three hours to Philadelphia for the tournament, stopped by an old high school friend's apartment to catch up, and showed up the next evening to take him back.

It was a welcome, if short, vacation. My friend, Hope, is fascinating in the way that makes you forget where you came from when you're with her. When our class graduated, Hope was a mousy girl with her head in her books who spent all her time at the local library her mom worked at. She'd moved to Philadelphia for college and apparently liked it enough to stay, and the experience has clearly changed her. Now she exclusively wears black, she's almost completed a tattoo sleeve, and there are more old records in her apartment than books. She didn't ask me how life back home was—instead, she thrust a glass of tequila on the rocks into my hand when I walked in and invited me to join a game of truth or dare with her college friends, all loosened up enough by the alcohol to be extremely welcoming. She'd eventually convinced me to let her give me another tattoo on my thigh, and I can still feel the sting of it under the bandage as I lean my foot a little harder on the gas. It's late now, the bright clock on the dash showing a little after eleven.

The closer we get to home the more nervous I get, and so I can't help feeling jealous of Silas fast asleep in the seat beside me. It hardly matters that this was why he asked me to drive him—because he knew he didn't plan on sleeping at all and knew that trying to drive and play in the tournament and probably party all night in between was a flawed idea.

Will Rhett be waiting for me when I get home? Why does it seem just as likely that I'll drive by that house one day and it will suddenly look destitute and moldy and eipty? Compared to the confusing reality, it seems just as likely that the whole thing was a dream.

My skin fizzles at the idea. No—the lighting was a real experience, as was Rhett's blood on my tongue, and his mouth on my skin...

I swallow and turn up the radio. It's just started to rain, and the unaccompanied tinny sound of the rain on the roof of the car is unsettling. Lightning wouldn't dare strike me twice, would it?

My hearing strains for the sound of thunder, but the rain remains a steady middle-of-the-road downpour. My foot presses harder on the gas. We're in territory I know well by now—twisty back roads that are faster than the highway. I'm whipping my little sedan around the curves now, forcing myself to pay attention to the road instead of the British vampire who I feel sure is waiting for me.

We sail down a low hill and I hydroplane for a second at the trough. The airborne feeling sends my heart into my throat, and I can feel myself almost wanting to leave my body again—to slip into the shadows and leave myself behind. Next is a long bridge across a deep, man-made reservoir, the water pebbled and hard to see through the rain.