Lenina woke to an unfamiliar ceiling and sheets smelling strongly of lemons. She sat up, squinting into the shaft of sunlight slicing through the ill-fitting purple curtains.
She groaned. ‘Attack from who?’
Though amused at Saar’s nickname for Tristen, Lenina had no patience for it. ‘After last night he won’t come near me. I’m safe.’
Swinging her legs out of bed, Lenina rubbed her eyes.
The borrowed nightdress fell three inches short of her knees and she watched the goosebumps prickle into being across her shins and thighs.
She stared at the dresser and the collection of essentials on top: moisturiser, deodorant, cleansing wipes. So small compared to her own. When she would see her own essentials again, let alone her house, was something she didn’t want to consider. Memories of the night before crept back slowly, a miserable film reel of events combining to bring her to this lonely moment.
‘Shut up.’
Lenina turned her gaze away from the dresser and over the rest of the room. A cold bowl of porridge stood on the bedside table, complete with a glass of orange juice. A small fly floated on the top.
‘You would have dealt with any real danger. Wouldn’t you?’
As if to add weight to his disappointment, the barely healed wound on her left cheek itched.
Soft knocking at the door stole her attention. ‘One second.’ She knew without looking who it would be. Snatching at Verni’s dressing gown, she tugged it on and wrestled it closed.
Lenina rolled her eyes and chose not to give credit to the ancient vampire’s fashion advice. When covered enough to suit her sense of modesty, she opened the door.
‘Hey, chuck.’ Ray spoke in a whisper, his gaze focused on her toes.
She smiled. ‘Hi, Dad. You look exhausted. Did you sleep at all?’
‘Not really. Too worried about you.’ He shuffled his feet, a subtle display of emotion from a man so tall and broad one might expect him to be immune. Lenina knew better. Even without the abilities of a vampire.
‘I’m sorry. I should have listened to you.’
‘You’re my daughter . . . you’re not supposed to. How are you feeling?’
She hugged herself. ‘Tired. Sore. What time is it?’
‘One-thirty.’ He nodded at her gasp of surprise. ‘Guess you needed the sleep. Lunch is gone, but Ramona won’t mind if I make you something. Or I could take you out for a meal?’
‘I’m not hungry.’
He nodded, still not meeting her eyes. ‘I wish I knew what to say.’
‘It’s okay.’
‘It’s not. You’re my daughter. My only little girl. But there’s nothing I can do to make this better.’
His guilt wrung her heart. ‘This isn’t your fault.’
Ray gnawed his thumbnail. ‘Your mother’s coming up with Jordan in a couple of hours. I thought you’d appreciate the extra company.’
‘Thanks.’ She watched him for a moment longer. ‘Actually, Daddy, lunch would be nice.’ His smile made the sacrifice worthwhile. ‘I’m not promising I’ll eat, but I don’t want to stay indoors.’
She set her jaw. ‘I want to hear people laugh. See people smiling.’
‘I understand, Chuck.’
Lenina felt sure he really did. ‘I’ll get dressed.’
‘See you downstairs.’ Ray left with a lightness to his step and a lift to his shoulders that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago.
After closing the door, Lenina returned to the bed and perched on the end. She shut her eyes, folded her hands in her lap and let her mind drift. Mere seconds passed before she found Tristen. He was far away and moving further, at speed. How she knew, she couldn’t be sure, but her awareness of him remained constant. Lenina lifted her hand, pointed through one of the walls and knew with absolute certainty that Tristen lay somewhere in that direction.
She nodded.
‘I know.’
Lenina nodded again and opened her eyes. She imagined closing the lid on a plain wooden box and felt her connection to Tristen click off.
‘You’ll just have to help me, won’t you?’
Though she couldn’t see him, Lenina had the distinct impression that Saar was smiling.
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