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He inhales, pulling my scent into his chest. “Unnaturally addictive. Are you a witch? I was sure you weren’t, but.” His hand traces over my cheek, sliding downward. “There’s no other explanation for how you’ve trapped me so completely.”
Butterflies bubble in my stomach, fighting to be set free. “Not a witch. Just plain, ordinary Jane.”
“There’s nothing ordinary about you,mi ceilo.” His thumb strokes over my chin. “Now, sadly, our time is up.” A sly smile flashes across his face. “Are you ready to meet my brothers?”
Samuel takes me through the drive-thru at a terribly greasy fast-food restaurant, and I stress eat as he drives, gorging myself on the burger and fries in hopes that it’ll calm the new wave of nerves sizzling through my body.
I’m on my way to meet Samuel’sbrothers, and unless they’ve found the cure to old age, then they’re vampires, too. I try to question him during our trip, but he’s as vague as ever.
“No, Jane, they don’t turn into bats.”
“No, Jane, my brothers aren’t supernatural assassins.”
“No, Jane, we don’t all live in a gothic castle.”
I relax into my reclined seat as he continues on the endless stretch of highway, losing myself to the moon’s allure as it follows us wherever we go. I’m so focused on finding the supposed face on its surface that I hardly notice Samuel changing lanes.
“Are we getting off the freeway?”
He glances at me, his eyes leaving the road to dance over my face. “We’re here. Bridgeport.” He lifts a single finger from the wheel, pointing straight ahead.
His finger redirects my gaze toward a large, reflective sign.
Bridgeport, ½ mile ahead.
My stomach clenches so violently I fear I’ll lose my meal. “Your brothers- they’re nice too, right?”
Samuel snorts. “Nice? Is that what you think I am?”
I sigh, crossing my arms. “Are they going to eat me or not?”
His eyes sparkle as he watches me. “No, Jane. They absolutely will not.”
We pull into a mildly crowded parking lot five minutes later. The mall looms ahead, all lit up with neon lights and flashing advertisements. Parked to our right is a black, sporty Mustang with tinted windows.
I grab hold of Samuel’s shirt sleeve. “Is that them?”
He peers out of my window, his lip curving as he takes in the vehicle. “Not exactly.”
An engine revs behind us.
Through the rearview mirrors, I glimpse the muddy silver Hummer before it whips around to park beside us. Two men gape from the windows, their wild eyes taking me in.
They’re both young, probably early twenties, with dark hair and a complexion matching Samuel’s. It’s no wonder no one believes vampires exit. These two men appear utterly normal. Both of them are wearing t-shirts with the sleeves cut off, and one of them is sporting a cliché silver bullet necklace around his neck. The passenger grins from ear to ear when we make eye contact, but the driver’s lips only twitch into a grimace-like grin.
“Thoseare your brothers?”
Samuel sighs. “Yes. Yes, they are.”
11
Samuel
“Sothisis the pretty lady?” Francis says.
We gather in the dark parking lot between our cars, and Francis flashes Jane an approving, coy smile.
I try to ignore my irritation, thankful that Jane has tucked herself partially behind me. It keeps my brother from scrutinizing her body and keeps me from wanting to strangle him.
