Dealing With A Vampire

7.

I'd prepped Maeve over the phone, but it didn't help. When I told her Dillon would be coming over she was not happy with me. Pacing the kitchen in my apartment, I was tense with anxiety waiting for him to arrive. It had been nearly two hours at this point, and I couldn't help but wonder what was taking him so long. Was he making pit stops on the way? What if that vampire tracked me down before he got here?

Maeve sits quietly on the couch, a stern look on her face as she watches the hardwood floor in the living room. I expected her anger earlier, the 'how many times do we trust Dillon until we're dead?' And 'if he bites me I'm telling Mom'. What I didn't expect was the fear that radiated off my little sister. Her eyes went cold, the color practically leaving them when she processed the fact that she'd be seeing a vampire. One that had nearly killed her sister at that.

Ultimately, I think my last meeting with Dillon had hit Maeve twice as hard as me. I didn't see the look in my own eyes when I came home covered in blood, and she had to watch me painstakingly scrub it from my skin. Maeve was the one who threw my white blouse in the trash, wiping what had happened that night from our lives. The only evidence left was a rust-stained towel in my hamper and a scar on my soul.

She didn't trust Dillon and I couldn't blame her for it. She didn't want him in my apartment; didn't think that it was safe for the two of us to be alone with him. But Sam wanted me just as Cyril did. He wasn't willing to protect something that didn't belong to him, and I don't belong to anyone. Especially not a vampire.

So it seemed to me that Dillon had to be the only person on my side in this—that he wouldn't let either Cyril or Sam have me. Maybe he was unstable, but I had pepper spray. And while Maeve thought we'd be safer with protection, I didn't want to give up my life to serve some two-hundred-year-old sociopath.

I felt so bad for bringing Maeve into all of this. What happened after work today—I'd never forgive myself for letting myself open up to her if Cyril had eyes on my sister too. She needed to devote herself to school, and it's hard to do that when a vampire is hunting you down.

"You know I don't want any apologies," Maeve speaks up as if she can read my thoughts. "I know how you are Mila, and this isn't your fault. Any of it. We were dragged in by Dillon—and no matter what you think—I'm glad that you confided in me." She looks up now from the floor, "I can't imagine what it would be like to deal with any of this on your own."

I nod along, nothing really to say. If anything happens to her... She's the braver of the two of us. Her spirit is stronger than mine.

"You're a better sister than me, Mae."

My phone finally chimes Dillon's ringtone, and I'm filled with both dread and relief knowing he's here. Patting the back pocket of the sweats I'd changed into after work, I make sure the pepper spray from my key ring is secured there. Double check—Maeve and I have the 'anti-vampire' jewelry on. Everything will be fine. I cross my fingers quickly for good luck.

Tapping the green button to answer, I greet Dillon with seriousness in my voice. "You're outside?"

"Yeah," He sighs with exhaustion, "We just came in the back door, coming up the elevator now."

"Sounds good," I pause, "We?"

Maeve's eyes snap toward me again. "Dillon said 'we'?" I nod silently, waiting for him to answer me.

My stomach flips upside down because I already know what his answer will be. "I told you Sam is going to—"

"He's going to do nothing because he's not coming inside." I deadpan as I cut Dillon off. My sister's eyebrows skyrocket on her forehead at my tone.