Page 20 of Road Trip with a Vampire

He stopped fidgeting. His eyes flicked to mine. “Of course,” he said, sounding mildly affronted. “Before I go, can I ask you a question?”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

“What do you have against vampires?”

His tone wasn’t accusatory, simply curious. I felt like I was under a spotlight all the same. “What makes you think I have something against vampires?” I hedged.

“Every conversation we’ve had since you found out what I was.”

I bristled. “That’s not fair. Or true.”

“Maybe not every conversation,” he conceded. “But you’ve been clear about your distrust of people like me from the beginning. I’d like to know why.”

I hesitated. I could lie and say I didn’t know what he was talking about, but he’d see through that immediately. This man, I was learning, missed nothing.

A lot of vampires I’d known had been real assholes that I’d have been better off without, but that wasn’t the real reason. The truth was I simply resented vampires for who I’d become when I was around them. It was probably unfair of me, but I was too exhausted to unpack any of it right now.

“Obviously vampirism is a lot for most people to accept,” Peter continued when I didn’t say anything. “But you’re not most people. Just the opposite, in fact.” He swallowed, looked away. “Your attitude towards vampires is…unexpected.”

I didn’t think I was imagining the hurt that had crept into his voice.

“It’s not you, Peter,” I said. I cringed at how lame that sounded, even though it was the truth. “I promise.”

“Then what is it?”

A car door out in the parking lot slammed shut, the noise of it so loud it was like this shitty motel room didn’t have walls at all. When I answered Peter, I pitched my voice low, on the remote chance someone out there might be able to overhear us.

“It’s me,” I said, not quite able to meet his eye. “It’s entirely me.”

After Peter left, I curled up on the bed with one of the books I’d brought on this trip. It was good enough, but I couldn’t seem to lose myself in it the way I wanted to.

It didn’t help that the love interest in this one was tall, dark-haired, and a bit surly. Every time I found myself getting sucked in, I’d imagine Peter and have to read the whole passage over again.

By one in the morning, I gave up trying.

I had work to do anyway. That wind spell near Donner Pass had worked well earlier in the day, but the tips of my fingers were tingling again, and I was as jittery as if I’d just downed a gallon of coffee.

If that had been a significant enough use of magic, I wouldn’t be feeling the way I was now so soon.

Another, larger spell was clearly in order.

Peter still hadn’t come back. Either he was still out feeding somewhere, or he’d meant it when he’d said he’d sleep in my car.

I felt a pang of guilt, thinking of him cramming himself into my little convertible.

What if our strained conversation about my vampire baggage made him feel like he had to stay away?

I told myself to put it out of my mind. I’d made it clear he was welcome to share the bed. If he was out in my car anyway, it was his choice.

The clothes I’d worn that day had been warm enough earlier, but once I stepped outside, I realized the temperature had plunged.

My jacket was enough to keep me from completely freezing, at least. The chilly air was probably a good thing anyway.

It calmed my nerves by forcing me to focus on something other than what I was about to do.

As I moved through the parking lot I gave my car a wide berth, just in case Peter was in there.

The field behind the motel was barren and vacant and seemed to stretch on forever as I walked towards it.

It was as good a place as any to get this done.

I couldn’t do a big spell right outside the motel.

Other people might see things and ask uncomfortable questions.

The motel’s flashing neon sign and the stars above kept me from walking in total darkness, but the night was otherwise black as pitch. There were no streetlights anywhere, not even a passing car’s headlights to see by. But for what I had planned, the dark suited my purposes well.

With just a thimbleful more power than I’d used to conduct the wind spell, I called up a small ball of light in the palm of my hand.

It was light as air, and I held it up to my eyes so I wouldn’t trip in the darkness as I walked.

The relief I felt from even this small expenditure of power was immediate.

My jangling nerves eased just enough for me to breathe again.

I let the light grow by degrees, feeding more of my power into it as I walked.

The bigger the light grew, the more the tension in my body floated away.

The wind kicked up, the cold air cutting through my too-thin jacket and blowing my hair into my face. I tossed up a wind shield that was large enough to keep the elements off me but small enough that I could still move freely.

The shield used up another small fraction of my power. Another small knot of tension in my bones floated free.

Once I was far enough away from the motel that its sign was no longer visible, I stopped walking. It was time to take full stock of how I felt. My hands no longer shook. I felt good . And despite the extra magic use, I was suffering from no wild urges to run away and return to my old chaotic life.

I closed my eyes and sent my awareness deep, deep, deeper inside myself. The wellspring of my magic was hot to the touch but not burning. Good. That was good. Casting this ball of light had, for now, done what it was supposed to do.

Perhaps I’d just hit on the perfect amount of magic I could use without everything going sideways. If I was wrong and I woke up tomorrow morning feeling awful again, I’d just have to try a larger spell next time.

This system could work.

I would make certain it did.

I opened my eyes.

In the distance I saw the silhouette of a person walking straight towards me. All my hard-won calm dissipated in an instant.

It was Peter.

Shit.

I shoved the power I’d just tapped into down deep and shrank the light I still held in my hand to the size of a golf ball.

Peter knew I had magic; he knew the general shape of my current magic-related problems—but he didn’t know specifics.

He’d likely guess at some of them now, seeing me outside, underdressed, in the middle of the night, casting spells in the freezing dark.

Why else would I be out in that field making balls of light if things weren’t dire?

Peter was worried that he might have been a bad person in his old life. Meanwhile, I knew that I had been awful. Explaining the reality of my situation to him would leave me open and exposed and full of shame over what I used to be.

If I could have teleported back to the motel before Peter reached me and wiped his mind so he wouldn’t remember seeing me out there, I’d have done it.

But I couldn’t teleport anything, including myself, without the powder I’d left back in the motel room with my other just in case supplies.

And memory wiping was a power strictly in the wheelhouse of vampires.

Peter stopped when he was just a few feet away. I braced myself for a barrage of questions I wasn’t prepared to answer.

“Zelda?” He blinked at me. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” I hedged.

“I was out finding something to eat,” he said. “Like I told you.”

“And…and did you?” I suspected he had, but I was flailing, grasping at anything that might distract him from more questions.

His frown deepened. He clearly knew I was deflecting. I was too frazzled to care.

“I did,” he acknowledged. “Took me longer than I expected, but I did.”

“Good,” I said lamely. “No one saw you?”

He shook his head slowly from side to side. “No.”

“Good,” I said again like a fool.

He stepped closer until there were just a handful of inches separating us. I could see his face clearly now, and my breath caught.

Peter’s dark eyes were hazy and fever bright. His eyelids drooped, and his pupils were blown wide despite my light still shining in his face. The lazy way his gaze traced down my body and then back up again told me he had definitely drunk his fill.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked again. His voice was pitched low, soft as velvet, as he fixed his full attention on me. The same attention that had been honed by vampires over millennia to hunt their prey.

His gaze was so heated it curled my toes.

“I…” My mouth had gone bone-dry. I licked my lips, heartbeat quickening as he tracked my tongue’s movement with his eyes. “I was just…out for a stroll.”

“A stroll,” he repeated dismissively, clearly not believing me.

I closed my eyes and took a deep steadying breath as I thought through how to explain myself.

Huge mistake. Peter wasn’t throwing off the same pheromones he did when he was ravenous, but the scent I’d found quiet and unthreatening when he’d stood at a distance a few moments earlier was richer and far more seductive up close.

Was I only reacting to his very obvious postfeeding arousal? I didn’t know. The longer we stood there, though, the harder it was for me to ignore just how attractive he was. And how good I knew he would make me feel if he touched me.

“Sorry for being nosy,” Peter said when I didn’t say anything else, apparently oblivious to the effect he was having on me. “I just got worried when I saw you out here alone. It’s dangerous.” One corner of his mouth twitched. “There could be vampires nearby.”

His dry joke cut through the tension. I laughed despite myself. “Oh really?”

“So I’ve heard.” But the way his forehead creased in concern belied his attempt at humor.

A wave of unfamiliar warmth washed over me. “I can take care of myself, Peter.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” he said, eyes flicking to the ball of light I still held in my hand. “Did you wander out here in the middle of the night just to make that?”

I hesitated. “Sort of.”

He nodded, contemplating me. “If you’re finished, shall we go back to the room?” He held out his arm for me, which was such an unexpected and gallant gesture that for a long moment I just stood there, uncertain what to do.

He must have misinterpreted my indecision, because he said in a quiet voice, “I know what I said earlier about my… condition after feeding. I promise to keep my hands to myself.”

My face heated, the attraction I’d felt towards him moments ago flaring back to life.

What if I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself?

“O-okay,” I stammered. After another brief moment of hesitation, I slid my arm through his. He tugged me in close to his side, the smell of satisfied vampire wafting over me, sending shivers down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold night air.