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Because we’re not really together. Because I’m not even sure if I like him.
Because he really is a vampire and so am I and I hope you never believe it.
“It all happened so fast,” I say after a moment.
She frowns at me. “As long as you’re happy, I guess.”
I almost choke on my champagne. Happy? If only I could tell her the truth. How far from happy I am.
But if she asked me if I feel alive, well…
That’s another story.
I’ve never felt so alive.
Chapter Fourteen
I have a restless few days at the hotel, which is supposed to be my indefinite home until we figure out what to do. I know it must be costing my parents a fortune, and even though they have money, I hate being this kind of strain on them. They don’t have Solon’s wealth, that’s for sure. But I have no choice.
My parents have come by a couple of times, never together. We sit in my hotel room and order room service and talk. Sometimes it feels like old times, but more often than not there’s this tension between us, one made from fear. I know my parents aren’t sure if I’m suddenly going to spring up and bite them, and I’m afraid of doing the exact same thing.
But I can’t keep living like this, hiding, waiting.
I need to get out.
I don’t even have an ID or my wallet, just cash they give me, and I miss my phone. I talk to Elle on Facebook on the computer, but it’s not the same. It’s keeping me tethered to the room.
And there’s a hunger and thirst that’s building inside me, that doesn’t go away no matter how many bottles of wine and bloody steaks I get delivered to my room.
I need to feed.
I hate myself for it.
But I can’t ignore it anymore.
So, on a foggy-day, I leave the Fairmont, catching the California Line cable car with the tourists, heading over the hill, dropping me off on Van Ness where I walk across Koreatown until I’m at Alamo Square.
The walk would have been nice, the fact that I’m getting fresh air, that I’m out of the hotel, but with every person I pass, I grow increasingly paranoid that I’m going to attack them. I’m starting to smell them, the unique scent of each person’s blood, and it makes my veins feel like they’re shriveling up inside me.
I probably should have come here by way of the black and white world, but honestly that place gives me the creeps. I keep thinking I see those shadows in my room at night.
I come to a stop in front of the house, staring up at all the stories, the tower, marveling at how I know exactly who lives inside the walls. The urban legends about this place only scratched the surface.
There’s movement at one of the windows, and I stare up, wondering who is watching me. I can feel the frosted gaze of a vampire, I’m just not sure who it belongs to.
Then the front door opens. There’s a middle-aged woman, short, but with a long, elegant neck and straight posture. From the cut of her jaw and the dark grey-streaked hair piled on her head, I can tell this is Amethyst’s mother, Yvonne, the human housekeeper I never got a chance to meet.
She gives me a quick smile and motions with her hand for me to come forward.
I go up the steps.
“Yvonne?” I ask quietly.
She nods and then steps back, gesturing for me to come inside.
I step through, expecting to either be bounced back by an invisible force field or feel some sort of charge, but I walk on through without anything unusual happening. The only thing I feel is an intense sense of calm come over me, like a weight lifted off my shoulders.
“Ms. Warwick?” Yvonne asks, and I realize that I’ve been standing in the middle of the hall with my eyes closed.
