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Calla stood there for a moment, but then she dutifully left me alone. I had no doubt she would return later, but sometimes, with some mortals, they were able to resist vampire suggestion if they were long enough and far enough away.
I hoped Calla wouldn’t resist me. If so, it did not bode well for my stay and I’d have to wipe her memories of me and leave, finding another, more easily compelled mortal to assist me.
I hoped not. She was a pretty young thing, innocent. If she complied, she would help me find my family and return to my home, for the first time in over a hundred years…
Calla
Back at the cottage, Chelsea poked her head out of the sliding door.
"Hey, kiddo, what are you doing?"
"Looking," I said, shifting my gaze from the guesthouse to the ocean.
"Nice view," she said after glancing beyond the cliff's edge to the sea. "I need to eat."
I followed Chelsea back in, and when I closed the sliding door, I saw the curtain pulled aside and the face of the vampire.
Kier.
Chelsea hadn't eaten, so she warmed up some leftover lasagna while I cut up some baguette. While she ate, she told me all about her summer spent as a waitress back in Sonoma. We finished up and after I tidied the counter and she put the dishes away, she yawned. Although it was only just after eleven o'clock, she was tired from her trip and from a late night at the restaurant.
"I think I'll have a bath and then go to bed," she said and stretched.
"Sure," I said, smiling, thinking all the while about taking food out to the vampire. To Kier. He asked for food and I promised it. While Chelsea was in the bath, I'd take something out to the guesthouse. Then, I’d try to forget about him until the next day. I wouldn’t go back to him after Chelsea was asleep. That would be crazy.
After Chelsea closed the bathroom door and I heard the water running, I quickly gathered up some food to take over to the guesthouse. A box of crackers, some cans of soup, a can of beans, and some fruit from the crisper in the fridge -- an apple and a
n orange. I took one of the servings of lasagna in a plastic container and some bread as well. A can of ice tea would have to do for a drink. There was already a kitchenette with utensils, plates and cups, so I didn't have to worry about dishes.
Satisfied that I had enough for him to eat, I left the cottage as quietly as I could, leaving Chelsea singing off key in the bathroom.
The sky was dark as I crossed the yard to the guesthouse. A huge weather system was moving in from the west so we were in for a storm.
I knocked on the door but there was no answer so I opened it cautiously and went inside. The room was dim, with only one small table lamp lit beside the sofa. He was in the bathroom, so I placed the food on the small counter in the kitchenette and was just about at the door when I heard him speak.
"Where do you think you're going?"
I startled at the sound of his voice, thinking I'd sneak in and out without having to actually speak with him. I stopped where I was, hand reaching for the doorknob, and turned to watch him emerge from the bathroom.
He wore nothing but a towel around his trim waist. His body was wet from a shower, his hair dripping. He body was well muscled, his shoulders broad. His skin was pale and smooth, with not a hair on him except for a thin dark line threading down from his navel, disappearing below the towel, which hid a thick bulge.
Several long cuts crossed his chest and shoulder, the seams bloody, oozing red.
“You’re injured,” I said, stepping closer.
“Surface wounds. Luckily, not silver blades or I’d be in worse shape. They’ll heal soon enough. Sooner, if I had something to… eat.”
I glanced up at his face and saw that he was smiling, an amused expression in his eyes. Then I turned to go.
"Don't rush off. You just got here."
"My friend will wonder where I am..." I said and gestured to the cottage.
"Tell her you were looking for something. Make up an excuse. I've been alone for a very long time and feel like company."
He came to my side and reached out to touch my face once more as he had done earlier. I tried to avoid him, but he was faster than me and cupped my cheek.
"No, no, no," he murmured. "Let me touch you. Your skin is so soft and warm."
