Page 47 of Road Trip with a Vampire

“No,” I said. “But thanks for the offer.” Hopefully, with John Richardson out of the way, the rest of The Collective would scatter.

If not, I’d come up with a plan to handle them on my own once I got my bearings.

As grateful as I was for Reggie’s offer, all he could really do was tell jokes, drink blood, and fly.

Those traits were a lot of fun at parties but rarely came in handy in a fight against other vampires.

I wouldn’t put him in any additional danger.

“Just when you think you can trust somebody you meet at a scrapbooking convention,” Reggie said wistfully.

“You know, it did seem odd how insistent Petey was on visiting California. But I thought his amnesia story was legit. I honestly believed he needed help.” A long pause. “I still might, actually.”

My heart twisted at Reggie’s words. I’d believed Peter’s story, as well.

Maybe part of me still did.

“He was incredibly convincing,” I admitted.

“I’m just wondering,” Reggie continued. “If Petey’s goal was to off you, why bother dragging you across the country first?”

“He was only being paid to crack my legendary safe,” I said, making air quotes around the word legendary . “The Collective was too afraid of me to risk taking me on directly until they got me outnumbered in that warehouse.”

“Interesting,” Reggie mused. “Did Petey ever ask you any questions about your safe?”

That brought me up short. “No,” I said. “Never.” In fact, he hadn’t even brought it up once.

“Hmm,” Reggie said. “Listen, if it had been me, and I was traveling with someone I was only pretending to like, and weeks had gone by with no clues about her safe, I’d have skipped ahead to killing her after that singing-chicken restaurant and just been done with it.”

I snorted. “Why would you wait that long?” I asked. “It took us a full day to get there.”

“Because that place sounds awesome,” Reggie said. “I’d never heard of it before Peter mentioned it in Chicago, but I’m determined to see it at least once before I die.”

I laughed. I could always rely on Reg to defuse a stressful situation with his unique brand of ridiculousness.

“It was memorable,” I conceded.

“I bet.” He sighed. “I wonder if can convince Amelia to go there on our honeymoon.”

“Honeymoon?” I couldn’t hide my surprise. “You’re getting married?”

“We’ve been talking about it,” he admitted. “I suppose I’m putting the cart before the horse, planning our honeymoon.”

“But the fact that you’re even talking about it…” I trailed off, my surprise overwhelming my ability to form words.

“I know.” He chuckled. “Who would’ve thought?”

“Happiness looks good on you,” I said. “Really good.”

“Thank you.” Another long pause. “I hope you get there, too, one day.”

I had to swallow around the lump in my throat. I had thought maybe I was finding my way there with Peter. But now…

“So do I,” I managed.

After another few minutes of pleasantries and a promise from him to come visit me in California after this whole mess was over, we hung up.

Then I switched to Peter’s texts and reread them.

Peter: Can you call me? I can explain everything.

Peter: But I also understand if you never want to see me again.

Now that I’d had my talk with Reggie, I felt ready to face this.

Almost.

Might as well get it over with either way.

Zelda: Actually, I never want to see OR talk to you again

Peter: I’m so sorry.

Peter: It’s not what it looks like, I swear.

Zelda: That’s exactly what somebody who spent the past few weeks luring me into a false sense of security on behalf of his evil vampire overlords would say

Peter: Evil vampire overlords?

Peter: You mean The Collective?

Peter: They’re not overlords of anything. They’re dumb as a bag of hammers.

Zelda: I know

Zelda: I was being facetious

Peter: Ah. Right.

Peter: Listen, Zelda. If you could give me just a few minutes of your time I can explain everything.

Peter: But I understand if you don’t want to do that.

I hesitated. Most of me never wanted to see Peter again. The rest of me…did. I told myself it was because he likely had my car. But I’d always been a terrible liar when I was lying to myself.

Zelda: Do you have my car?

Peter: What?

Peter: Oh. Yes. I do.

Peter: I drove it away from the warehouse after I incapacitated the other vampires.

Zelda: Is incapacitated code for “staked”?

Peter: Not in this case. I lost your dagger when two huge vampires jumped me.

Peter: I’m sorry about that.

Peter: Fortunately, when you transferred that dagger to my pocket, you also transferred your little bag of incapacitating powder.

Shit. I’d been wondering where that had gone.

Peter: I didn’t know what I was doing, but I was out of options, so I threw a bunch of it in their faces. I had plenty of time to get the hell out of there before they came to.

Despite myself, my heart ached at the thought of Peter fighting off vampires who were only angry with him because of me.

But did that mean I wanted to see him again? I didn’t know.

Zelda: Well, I need my car back

That much was true, at least.

Zelda: If you drive it to my hotel for me, I’ll give you twenty minutes to explain.

It seemed only fair. More than that, though—I found I really did want to know the real story behind Peter Elliott. Even if, in the end, it would only break my heart.

Peter: I can do that. Where are you staying?

Zelda: The Mallory on College Boulevard

Peter: Got it. And thank you for giving me a chance to explain.

Peter: I should be there in forty-five minutes.

Peter: Would you feel safer if we met in the hotel bar?

I thought about that. On the one hand, meeting him in public would be safer for me if he was thinking of trying something funny. On the other, if we were in public, defending myself, if that became necessary, would be harder than it had to be.

Zelda: Let’s just meet in my room. I’m in 501.

Peter: I will see you soon.

That settled, I set my phone down on the bedside table.

And waited.

According to my phone, Peter knocked on the door to my room exactly forty-five minutes after we’d finished texting.

I let him stand in the hallway as I checked my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My hair was a mess, but my face and outfit were mostly on point despite the evening’s chaos.

Good. Let Peter eat his heart out while he was here.

On my way to the door, I placed my remaining dagger and the bag of transporting powder prominently on the entryway table. I wanted him to see them right when he walked in so he’d think twice before trying anything.

Taking a deep breath and reminding myself I could do hard things, I opened the door.

My breath caught at the devastation on his face.

No. I was not falling for this again. Peter had been paid to mess with me and crack my safe. And he’d lied to me from the beginning. I would not be taken in by his sorrowful expression—no matter how handsome he looked being all sad.

I’d told him I’d give him twenty minutes. That was all he would get.

His gaze flicked to the room behind me, lingering on the weapons on the entryway table. “May I come in?”

I nodded and moved aside to allow him entry. “Sure.”

He stepped into the room without further preamble, dressed in the same T-shirt and jeans he’d been wearing at the warehouse.

The same clothes he’d worn when we’d left Reggie’s apartment that morning.

It was a stark reminder of how little time had passed since I’d learned the truth about him and everything had turned upside down.

Incredible that so much had happened in one day.

“You said you don’t want to see me again,” he began. “I respect that. But before I bow out of your life forever, I need you to know that everything I have ever said to you was true. At least insofar as I understood it at the time.”

My temper flared. “ Insofar as you understood it at the time? That’s some qualifier.”

He flinched. “I know.”

“You’ve said a lot of things to me,” I pressed. “A lot of it’s hard to reconcile with what happened at the warehouse.”

“I know that it must seem that way,” he said.

“But the part about my having amnesia, about not being able to remember what brought me into your life, was true.” He looked away.

“So was everything I’ve said about what you mean to me.

How incredible you are. How badly I want you.

I meant it. All of it.” His throat worked. “I still do.”

Something hard and unyielding inside me softened around the edges at the raw sincerity in his tone. I folded my arms across my chest, fighting hard to hold on to the anger and betrayal.

Against my better judgment, I stepped closer to him. I didn’t fail to notice his sharp intake of breath or the way his pupils dilated as I met his stare.

“You have twenty minutes,” I reminded him. My weapons were still within easy reach if all of this went south in a hurry. “Tell me everything.”