Page 18 of Love Immortal

Seventeen

T he odd nightmare about shadow wolves, the mist, my dorm window being open despite the fact that I couldn’t remember opening it—it all makes sense now. Those dreams started only after Dacian showed up in Camden. Before that, I always just dreamed of Clay and his letters. All this time, he has been luring me in.

I press my hands to my face, wishing I could sink through the floor. What else has he been doing that I haven’t caught on to yet? A clawing grip of hysteria seizes my windpipe. This can’t be happening to me. Maybe if I fall asleep, I’ll wake up tomorrow and realize that all of this has been an elaborate nightmare caused by all the trauma in my life. Heck, I’ll even go to counseling. Or, per Fiona’s advice, join the Gay and Lesbian Alliance to help me deal with my “issues.” But as tempting as ignoring reality sounds, that’s exactly what I mustn’t do. Dacian will be waiting for me in my dreams, and I don’t trust myself to resist him. I know I won’t have the strength. I was barely able to reject him while I was awake.

So I don’t dare approach my bed or close my eyes for the rest of the night, watching as the clock radio on my nightstand marks every passing minute with its glowing red digits.

When the day breaks, I finally work up enough courage to peer out of my window again. I examine the courtyard and the green plaza below. But both are empty. No parked cars, no students milling about. And no vampire literature professor.

I blow out a puff of air, emptying my lungs, and allow myself to sit down on the edge of my bed. There’s a dull ache at my temples, and my backside feels like it’s made out of bricks from spending the night sitting on the hard floor. I try not to think about the fact that I’m gonna be in this dorm alone until other students start returning on Sunday, and it’s only Saturday morning. How am I supposed to survive that?

I can’t have a meltdown , I tell myself. I must think clearly, and for that, I need coffee. I won’t last the day, let alone another night, without it. My stomach grumbles treacherously too. My family used to have a Mr. Coffee machine. How I regret not snatching it when I packed. I barely took anything when I left, even things that belonged to me—I was so bitter then. But prioritizing anger over practicality has come back to bite me many times since. Without a coffee maker or a food stash, I’ve no choice but to venture out.

Is it safe, though? Clearly, not all pop culture myths about vampires are true. Dacian couldn’t come into my room without being invited, but he doesn’t burst into flame when exposed to sunlight, which means he could attack me at any hour of the day. Although I don’t think he’ll try to murder me in broad daylight; witnesses will complicate things for him. He’ll bide his time and corner me when I’m alone or asleep. Being around people is one way to guarantee my safety for the time being.

Armed with that idea, I take a painfully cold shower to keep myself awake and then patiently wait for someone else to appear. It takes several hours before the school maintenance crew shows up to blow the leaves off the sidewalks and rake the lawn. That’s when I make my escape.

I speed walk through the hallways, step outside, and bolt the short distance to my car. Luckily, I moved it to the first row since those spots were available for once. I don’t care that I must look crazy to anyone who sees me right now. They don’t know what I know. They haven’t seen what I’ve seen.

My hands are shaking so badly that it takes several attempts to open my Chevy’s rusted door. I cuss with relief when it yields and practically dive inside. Only after I merge onto Route 7 am I able to relax a little. I don’t think Dacian will try to stage an ambush on a highway.

I want to put some distance between myself and Camden, so I drive north for a good twenty miles until I spot a large rest stop with a Dunkin’ Donuts. There are several people sitting at the counter—an elderly guy with a newspaper and some commuters, enough watchful eyes to make it safe. Still, I double-check my surroundings before I claim a spot at the counter. I order a honey-dipped doughnut and coffee from the server lady wearing a bright pink hat and apron. She puts my donut in a paper bag and pours my coffee into a ceramic mug with a brown Dunkin’ logo. I wrap my chilled hands around it and inhale the aroma. I couldn’t stop shivering while I was driving—the Chevy’s heating has been busted for years. As warmth seeps into my fingers, some tension finally leaves my body. A few sips and sugary bites later, my brain is revived enough to be reacquainted with logic.

This is one big, horrible mess, isn’t it? I’ve witnessed a gruesome murder, but I can’t call the cops because what am I going to tell them? “My Gothic lit professor is a vampire who drank my classmate’s blood”? They’d put me straight into the loony bin! I have no proof, only what I saw and my dreams, which no one will believe.

A pit of acid swirls in my stomach. We have some kind of a mind connection, Dacian and me. He all but validated that when he said I’d let him in already. But how far does it go? All those times I looked into his eyes and “saw” or “felt” things, maybe those were just images he fed me to gain my trust. But that figure in the dream fog—that was him. I have no doubt about it. He watched me as the mist touched my body, as I let it roam unrestricted all over my skin… Despite everything, heat spikes in my cheeks, and it has nothing to do with the coffee I’m drinking. Did Dacian want me too, even the tiniest bit? Or was it all just a game to him?

I shove my traitorous desires away. I can’t let my feelings get the better of me. I need tangible evidence that doesn’t hinge on me confessing that I had a gay affair with a mist. The cops will never investigate that. Which means they can’t protect me. Nobody can.

I finish my doughnut, trying not to plunge into despair.

I’m terrified to return to campus, but I don’t have money for a motel. I could get in touch with Fiona; maybe I can still spend the rest of the fall break at her house. But what if Dacian follows me? I can’t bring danger to the Onayemis’ doorstep. They don’t deserve to be killed for showing me kindness. And even if I find somewhere to lie low for a while, I can’t run from Dacian forever. Camden is my life. I have no job prospects without it, no family waiting for me to come home. No matter how I look at the situation, I have no choice but to stay and confront him. But how am I going to do that?

I need a plan. Urgently. I have a few days at most before I’ll have to sleep. How long did Nancy last in Nightmare on Elm Street ? A week? But that was all movie magic and made-up sleep-suppressing meds.

My first priority is to survive until fall break is over. I’ll be safer when the campus is crowded again. But what then? How can I possibly fight Dacian? I know abysmally little about him or vampires in general. Maybe that’s where I should start.

Nervously, I check my surroundings again. Some customers have left, and a few more have come in, but there’s no sign of a black-clad vampire stalking me…yet. So I indulge in a coffee refill and another doughnut—apple cinnamon this time, Dunkin’s seasonal special. It’s going to be a long day.

As I wait for my order, I start a mental list of things I do know about Dacian. He admitted he comes from far away—a desolate, snowy place, if his words and my dreams can be trusted. But why is he in Camden? What can he possibly want here? If he just needed a place to hunt without the authorities catching on, he would have chosen a bigger city with millions of people where he wouldn’t be noticed so easily. Why go through the trouble of becoming a college professor? That doesn’t make sense, much like Dr. Kowalski’s abrupt retirement. Could Dacian have orchestrated that too?

A dark thought assails my mind, making me instantly regret getting a second doughnut: What if Dacian killed Dr. Kowalski to take his place? I suppress a wave of nausea and shake my head. No, that can’t be. I’m sure there would’ve been an announcement and an obituary in the local paper. Dr. Kowalski had been a fixture at Camden for twenty-odd years; someone would’ve noticed his bloodless corpse. That makes me feel a little better, but not much. Even so, Dacian has murdered at least one person.

A memory from our first conversation pops into my mind: the signet ring he was wearing with the strange symbol. What did he say about it? Old family heirloom . A dragon with a wolf’s head. How ominous. I want to kick myself for not looking it up earlier. It might’ve shed some light on his identity. It still could. A tiny spark of hope emerges amidst the rubble of terror I’ve been crawling through since last night.

I check my watch. Despite the fact that I feel like the day started an eternity ago, it’s only ten a.m. Good—this should give me enough hours to investigate. I quickly finish my doughnut and gulp down my still-too-hot coffee, scalding my tongue, before exiting the shop and hurrying back to my car.

The wolf-dragon symbol is the one thread I can follow. Camden’s library is closed, but there are plenty of good public libraries in Vermont. The one in Montpelier is big and a reasonable distance away. I pray my car won’t quit on me. At least the weather is on my side, dull and gray with a wind that bites but no heavy rain.

So, I fill up my tank at the adjacent gas station and make my way to Montpelier.