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“I thought you said it was only some wannabe impersonating Theodore,” says Lucas sharply. “If that’s the case then why are you so on edge?” he asks.
“Of course I don’t really believe it’s an impersonator, I only said that to reassure the Governor.” Delilah hisses. “Although I don’t know why I bothered, did you see the way that bitch Antonia looked at me. She’s thinks she’s so superior, do you know I heard she has a penchant for young unwilling human males. She uses her compulsion to force them to let her feed from them.”
“Quiet the two of you,” Ethan interrupts. “We have all been expecting this. The only question was when the Sorcerer would return. It’s widely believed that he faked that theatrical death of his.”
I speak up. “Um, who exactly is this Theodore character anyway?” I keep my voice low, so as not to come across as presumptuous.
“You don’t need to know about him,” Ethan tells me. “Now, come along, I’m taking you home.”
I’m about to protest, but then I remember just how tired I am and just how much I couldn’t give a shit about all this vampire drama. Silently I rise from my seat and follow Ethan out of the office. We walk quietly down the darkly painted corridor. My heart almost jumps out of my chest when we’re leaving through the exit and bump into Dru slipping back inside the club, wiping what looks very much like fresh blood off of her knuckles.
“I see you didn’t give much heed to the idea of ‘don’t shoot the messenger’ Drusilla,” says Ethan sizing up her dishevelled appearance.
“Don’t ever call me that, Blondie,” she retorts through a tight jaw. “And I was only following orders if you must know.”
“So said all those Nazi soldiers back in the 1940’s,” Ethan smirks.
“Yeah, yeah, go and guilt trip someone who’s actually capable of the emotion,” she replies breezily, before clocking me standing behind Ethan.
“Hey cutey, I thought I smelled ya there,” she says with a grin. “I’m off duty now you know, you busy?”
I try not to think too much of what I might smell like to vampires. Although I do recall Lucas mentioning his appreciation. I shiver.
“Yes. She is.” Ethan snaps. “So keep that wandering nose of yours to yourself.”
“What can I say, you got yourself one special girl there, Ethan. You’d better keep an eye on her though,” she continues, gaze on me. “Somebody just might steal her.” Dru’s words make me feel edgy, and not because I’m embarrassed by her forwardness. She looks like she might eat me, and being a vampire, I’ve no doubt that she could.
Ethan ignores her threat. “Go clean yourself up, Dru,” he tells her in a clipped tone before swiftly guiding me out the door.
Chapter Fourteen
Goth Girls Stick Together
Inside of Ethan’s car I’m greeted by a welcome gush of warmth from the heater. It’s a pleasant contrast to the frosty cold night outside. The kind that leaves black ice. The digital clock on the dashboard reads 12:34. With any luck I’ll be nicely tucked up in bed before one.
Strange things occupy my mind. I can’t stop thinking of Dru after we’ve left her at the club. Goodness, she has that kind of magnetism, you know the kind of charisma that everyone wants a piece of.
Ethan looks from me to the road ahead of him, and then back to me again. “What’s different about you?” he asks in a thoughtful voice, with eyes that suck everything in. No tiny change could get past them.
The last twenty-four hours flashes through my head. “Different as in how? I didn’t go to the hairdressers or anything, if that’s what you’re asking.” I bluff, curious as to what he can see in me.
Does a change occur in a person when they’ve discovered what they really are? Who knows. Perhaps my eyes betray some sort of new wisdom.
“I can’t quite place it,” he says. “You seem – I don’t know – enlightened somehow, but at the same time entirely lost.”
He’s more perceptive than I might have given him credit for. Then again, I do know next to nothing about his species. Their senses could be ten times more heightened than those of a human. Their brains capable of deciphering so much more information. If they live a thousand years instead of a paltry eighty or ninety, then it’s only to be expected that they can process things quicker, more efficiently.
Anyhow, be that as it may, it doesn’t mean I’m going to inform him that he’s hit the nail on the head. Rita telling me about how the vampires are only out for what they can gain rings in my ears. It stops me, halts me in my tracks from being as open with Ethan as I might be with a normal friend.
“I’m extremely tired,” I tell him in response.
“Close your eyes then. Sleep,” he says, in a low, soft, seductive voice. I could almost obey. Almost. I give him a look of warning.
He flattens out his
palms on the steering wheel. “No hidden agenda. Just sleep. I’ll carry you in, put you to bed. Let me take care of you, little one.”
The suggestion is tempting. Too dangerous though. This creature has ripped out throats, chopped off heads. Drained bodies of their life force. Remember that. I may be self-loathing at times, but I don’t hate myself to the point of allowing a killer to become my carer. I think that would be the final step towards self-destruction, since all the drinking and smoking hasn’t killed me yet.
