Belle Morte Bites (Belle Morte 4.3)

A Brighter Future: Part One

Modern Day

Nikki Flynn bent double, bracing her hands on her knees, breathing heavily. Sweat trickled down her back, and her muscles ached, but she felt good too, her body buzzing with endorphins.

Beside her, Jason Grant stretched his arms over his head, his t-shirt riding up to show off a strip of six-pack.

"Fuck me, it's too hot to be running," he complained.

"It's not that hot," Nikki said, as a bead of sweat ran down her face.

Jason gave her a pointed look.

"Okay, fine, it's hot as hell," Nikki relented. "Water?"

Jason handed her his bottle, and Nikki tipped it over her head. Water gushed over her curls and streamed down her face, and it was warm after miles of running under the sun, but she let out a little sigh of relief anyway.

"Ohhhh, that's better," she said.

Jason took back the bottle and sloshed what was left over his own head.

Nikki tipped back her head and closed her eyes, feeling water drip down the back of her neck. She ran almost every day now, and usually she didn't mind doing it alone, but it was also nice to run with a friend.

It reminded her that, no matter how lonely she sometimes got, she wasn't alone in this world.

"There's something important I want to talk to you about," Jason said, and Nikki opened her eyes.

Jason was looking intently at her; the water had already dried on his face, though his hair was still damp.

"Okay," Nikki said.

Jason gestured to a nearby bench, and Nikki followed him there and sat down. The wooden slats were warm against the backs of her legs.

"So you're turning eighteen soon," Jason said.

"I am."

"Have you thought about what you'll do next?"

Nikki leaned against the back of the bench. "How do you mean?"

"When you first moved in with Diane, you said you'd leave as soon as you turned eighteen. Do you still feel like that?" Jason asked.

Something sharp and sour cut through Nikki's lingering endorphins. Diane had stopped insulting vampires, but neither she nor Nikki had ever managed to bridge the gap between them. As Nikki had grown older, she'd come to appreciate that Diane had kept a roof over her head all these years, but it was clear now that they would never truly get on or develop any kind of familial bond. Diane had taken Nikki in because she felt it was her duty as Nikki's last living relative, but she'd had little interest in raising a kid, especially not a surly, grieving teenager.

Nikki had come to terms with living in Guildford with Diane, but she'd never stopped thinking that each birthday brought her a step closer to freedom.

"Yeah," she said, her voice low. "I still feel that way."

Jason didn't look surprised.

"And how's work going?" he said.

Nikki pulled a face. "Honestly? I hate it. I mean, there's nothing wrong with flipping burgers, but I don't even eat fast food, and I fucking hate the smell of the grease. At the end of every shift, I have to shower and wash my hair because the smell makes me feel sick. At the same time, it's a job and it pays, so I guess I can't complain too much."

"Complain as much as you want. I won't judge," Jason said.

Nikki ran her palms over her bare knees. "Dad saved a lot of money from working at Belle Morte, and he put it all into an account for me. The money from the sale of our old home in Winchester also went into an account in my name. Once I turn eighteen, I can legally access those accounts – Dad's will left everything to me. Diane gets nothing. So on my eighteenth birthday, I'm suddenly going to have quite a lot of money. Now I need to decide what to do with it."