Chapter 11

Some dreams belong to hope, some to summaries of the day, and others to the fears we hide from ourselves.

Ever since Emily woke that morning to find she’d made a textbook transition from a beautiful, bubbly human, to a heartless but perfect vampire, she’s been crying; she looked in the mirror, her face flawless, her eyes radiant, more vibrant than before, and cried.

For Emily, she’s living a nightmare, one that, for me, would now be a dream.

“Here.” David placed a pile of very neatly folded clothes on the end of my bed. “I’m not sure which drawers you want these in.”

“Just chuck them on the floor with the rest—that’s where they’ll end up, anyway.”

But he didn’t. Instead, he opened random drawers and placed the clothes in spaces they didn’t belong, and somehow, that was more annoying than the fact that he’d done my washing in the first place.

“Aren’t you supposed to magically know where all my stuff goes? That would be so much more romantic.”

“Hm.” He placed his duffle bag on the dresser and packed his clean laundry into it—despite me telling him yesterday to take a few of my drawers for himself. “You’re right. I should pry through your stuff more often.”

“Yes.” I rolled onto my side. “You should.”

“Very well. I shall begin prying this afternoon.” He landed beside me, his forearm tucked under his cheek. “Mike’s looking better. He won’t scar at least.”

“That’s good,” I muttered.

“And I have some interesting news.” He either didn’t notice the gloom in my tone, or chose to counteract it with a radiant kind of positivity in his own.

I propped my head on the ball of my palm and looked down into his sparkling green eyes, brighter in the midday sun. “Okay, what’s the news?”

“I’m not sure why, but I can still hear Emily’s thoughts.”

“Really? I bet she’s peeved off.”

“Yes.” David seemed to be laughing—to himself.

“Is that because she’s not full strength yet?”

He shook his head, still grinning. “It’s been two days; she’s full strength. I think it’s because, when a vampire changes a human, they have a connection. Maybe because Jason and I are twins—”

“How did he do it? Change her, I mean.” I sat up and tugged my floral-print skirt down over my legs where it rode up while I was laying. “I thought it wasn’t as simple as just biting? Like, I mean, what did he do different to her that hasn’t worked on other people you’ve tried to change?”

“Other people? Or do you mean you?” he asked, with a soft smile.

I shrugged.

“Sweetheart.” David sat up, too. “I wish I knew, but being on the council doesn’t give you automatic rights to that knowledge.”

“But you must have some idea, I mean, you tried to change Rochelle?”

“Yes. I thought I knew what I was doing, and there’s no saying I did it wrong. She died because she was with child, Ara, but I’m not willing to test my theories on you.”

Of course not. Why risk anything for me? “So, how did Jason get the knowledge then, if even a council member couldn’t?”

“I’m not sure.”

I dropped my head, my whole posture slumping.

“Are you wondering if there might still be hope—if maybe he got something wrong when he tried to turn you?”

One shoulder pulled to my ear and I half smiled.

“Look, Ara, I know how this feels.” David delicately tilted my chin until I looked into his eyes. “I know you always wondered why Emily and I never fell in love, and now she’s immortal, it makes you feel more alone—cements your already ludicrous notion that Emily would’ve been better for me.”

“So you can read my mind today, huh?”

“No, sweetheart. I just know you too well.”

I smiled, wrapping my fingers around his to pull them from my cheek. “I like it that you know what I’m thinking—without me having to think it.”

“Me too.”

“David?” Emily popped her head in the door.

“Yeah, Em?” He drew his eyes away from me slowly, not in any real hurry to look at her.

“Um, I think Mike might be packing. I heard his suitcase being zipped up.”

David looked at me; my lip quivered and my nose stung with the rise of tears in my eyes. “Okay, thanks, Em. I’ll go see to him.”

She wandered away without another word.

“He hasn’t seen her yet, has he?” I asked.

“No.”

“Is he...is he still mad with me?”

After a deep breath, swallowing the words he was going to say, he nodded. “He’s just tired, sweetheart.”

“No.” My voice broke. “He hates me.”

“No, he hates vampires. He’s hurting, Ara. Give it time, he—”

I shook my head and leaped off the bed. “I have to talk to him.”

“Wait.” David grabbed my wrist before I made it to the door. “You can’t go in there yet.”

“Why?”

“He might—” His fingers tightened around my wrist. “He might hurt you.”

“David?” I looked at him, disgusted. “It’s Mike—he’d never hurt me.”

With his eyes closed tight, he dropped his face into the breath he exhaled. “I’m not so sure about that anymore, Ara.”

“I can handle myself.” I broke from his grip and walked away.

“Your stubbornness will get you in trouble one day,” he called; I ignored him, walking a little faster in case he saw fit to stop me. But how could there be any danger in talking to my best friend, my Mike, the man who loves me no matter what I do?

He may be mad, but surely he wouldn’t go as far as to actually hurt me.

Leave and never come back, maybe, but not hurt me.

“Mike?” I softly tapped on his door, pushing it open. “You awake?”

Under the darkness provided by his drawn black curtains, I saw only his silhouette look up at me from the edge of the bed. He stood when I walked in, and stepped away from me. “Get out. I have nothing to say to you.”

“Why is your suitcase by the door?” I toed it.