Chasing Sunrise

Thirty-One

This literal angel, seated across from me at the burger joint, was so much older than me that his age could almost be measured in geologic time. To say he'd think I was immature was an understatement.

But he was also old enough to know how to handle my awkwardness. He folded his hands, relaxed his shoulders, and said, "Well no. You saved my life."

"Right."

"And I admire you. I respect you. You've done things I didn't know were possible."

But... I thought. I knew there was a "but" coming and I stared down at my half-eaten burger and waited for that shoe to drop.

Except, he stopped talking. When I looked up, he returned my gaze with a wistful smile. I got the impression that he was like an old man watching a shooting star, because if I was mortal, my life would be over that fast for him. But he was going to watch until the streak of light faded.

And he wasn't laughing at me, or rolling his eyes at my feelings.

As the moment stretched on, I found that for once I didn't mind being stared at by an attractive guy I'd fallen for. I didn't worry about dumping my drink down my front or saying something stupid, because he didn't need me to say or do anything. All he expected was for me to be me.

It wasn't his fault or mine that the barrier between us was insurmountable. He couldn't be the love of my life, but he could help me learn how to exist without apology. I didn't think it was something I could pull off anywhere or anytime else. Not yet, at least, but here in this moment with him, I could, and I tried to accept that as enough, because it was all he could offer.

I bit my lip, then took a sip of my drink. Looking down at my half-eaten hamburger had also shown me that I'd been eating it all this time without tasting it. What was the point of eating junk food if I didn't at least enjoy the taste?

Corban resumed eating his fries.

I finished my burger and fries and sipped my soda until it was gone, him waiting patiently all the while. Then we gathered our trash, threw it away, and headed out the door.

*

Corban's apartment was in the small complex that Gina had shown me before. It was tucked between a strip mall and some single-family housing.

I had to help him up the stairs and through his door and into a pretty regular-looking studio apartment, roughly the size of my dorm room at the Hawke Academy.

A futon couch was pushed against one wall, and he had a television and stereo system. A kitchenette at one end was equipped with a small fridge and a couple of burners. I suspected he didn't care about limited fridge space and no oven; he spent his time snacking on the pain of the people around him.

I helped him convert his futon so that he could lay down with his back to me, facing the wall. The only other place to sit was on a beanbag chair in the corner, and I flopped down on it.

"Hey, Corban?" I asked.

"Mmm?" he replied.

"How many of your kind are there?"

"I dunno. A lot. I'm the only one out here, but in Santa Fe there are at least five. Albuquerque has, like, fifty. Denver's got hundreds. We've been around a long time, and we're adding members faster than we're losing them. We're probably the most common form of altered human."

"The most common form?"

"Mmm-hmmm. Vamps used to be second. They often are second, but not right now."

"So what other forms are there?"

He chuckled. "Trust me, that is a much longer conversation." His words were beginning to slur, though, and his breaths to deepen. He was slipping into unconsciousness.

Which left me alone in his apartment.

*

I changed my mind a million times in the hours that followed. I even did all my homework, completing an essay that wouldn't be due for a week, as if that mattered right now. Teachers always thought I was hardworking, when I suspect the truth was that I used schoolwork as a way to escape from life. It was something my mind could do on autopilot while time ticked by.

But Corban stayed out cold for one hour, then two, then five, then seven, and that drove me to the inevitable conclusion that he could not face Darissa again before sundown. If he was going to face her again, he'd do it after he recovered. I realized that might also be after I was out of the picture.

Because I decided I was going to kill her or die trying, and I was fully aware that the latter was more likely. It still made sense, in the grand scheme of things, for me to try.

Corban's kind might be common, but they were also needed. I might be a novelty, but at the end of the day, I was just another vampire.

I paced his apartment and laid out the facts in my mind as best I could. The first thing I had to accept was that I was not as smart as Darissa, nor was I a better fighter. Nor was I interesting enough to distract her for long.

There were only two things I had going for me: the fact that I was interesting enough to distract her for a short time, with my novel half-turned-ness, and the fact that she didn't know me at all. She probably knew enough about people and fighting them that I wouldn't be able to surprise her, but there was a miniscule possibility that I could.

I finished this thought process standing over Corban's sleeping form and took a good, long look at his face. We had known each other for exactly one week, and he'd been gone for most of it. It was strange how many memories were crammed into that time, though.

My one regret was that I knew he'd be upset about my decision, but I nevertheless believed he'd understand it, and after being asleep this long, he would expect it.

And he'd get over it. He'd go back to his predictable existence, helping thousands upon thousands of other people step over the threshold from childhood to adulthood and easing their burdens along the way. Even if I was a really, really good investment banker, I wouldn't ever accomplish anything like that.

Cassie would be upset, too, but Corban would help her cope.

A thousand years from now, when he was still around and I was a hazy memory on the brink of fading forever, details like whether I'd lived to eighteen or eighty wouldn't matter. Whether Darissa survived this day, however, would.

Corban's jacket was draped over the arm of the futon, so I was able to get his keys from his pocket and slip out, locking the door behind me.

The sun was setting, and I wondered if I'd be able to get into the school. I didn't suppose that mattered much. Darissa would find me, I was sure.

It felt truly weird to drive without Corban in the passenger seat, and I did feel bad about stealing his car, but my mind kept going to the grand scheme of things. It just didn't matter all that much.

The school parking lot was mostly empty; only a few teachers' cars winked their reflectors at me as the RAV4's headlights swept across the lot. I did my best to park and then debated over what to do with the keys. I finally decided to leave them in the car and leave the car unlocked. Either Corban would get his car back, or someone would get lucky. (Though unless that someone was from out of town and could leave fast, Corban would still get his car back.)

The school proved to be unlocked. Had they learned nothing from the attempt to burn down the library? There were still staff members around, though. I saw some lights glowing through classroom doors and heard the distant sound of footsteps on the tile.

I tiptoed, even though I supposed that was unnecessary, back to the same bathroom where Darissa had almost killed Corban, and pushed open the door. More light spilled into the dark hallway and I had to squint a moment.

She was there, waiting for me, examining her nails as if she was the sort of person who got manicures, and she took her time lifting her gaze to meet mine. Her smile was triumphant.

"Sooo, you here to take the deal?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I am."