Chapter 21
Saturday I went by the Faulkner place, but there was still no sign anyone had been there. The trees were starting to bloom bringing new life to the woods. The woods—that gave me an idea. I went back to the Jeep and grabbed my cell phone and punched up the compass application. Maybe a little hike. I headed up to the spot where I'd taken the picture that I'd given to Izzy. I scoured the underbrush as I went, hoping to find a deer carcass or some sign of—well her. I crossed Reno Monument Road and continued north on the Appalachian Trail. Once I crossed over the interstate, I lost track of time. I came across two carcass's, but they were both old kills and gave no indication of what I imagined a vampire attack might look like.
"Damn!" I glanced down at my watch. I was several hours from my Jeep and it was getting dark. "Better call Mom." I pulled out my phone and hit speed dial. "Hey, Mom. I lost track of time."
"Where are you?"
"I went for a hike."
"Do you want me to come get you?"
"No, I'm good, it's just going to be a few hours before I get home."
"A few hours! Are you sure you don't want me to come get you?"
"Not really where you can come get me, but don't worry, I'll be fine. I'll call you when I get back to the Jeep."
"Okay, be careful."
It was dark by the time I crossed back over the interstate. As I stepped off the bridge, I thought I heard something behind me, but when I turned, there was nothing there. Even so, the rest of the way back, I felt like I was being followed. Once I made it to Lambs Knoll, the feeling faded.
I descended the mountain to the Faulkner house, which had become a grim reminder of my failure. I started the Jeep to warm up, but just sat there, staring at the house. There was something, something I couldn't put my finger on that beckoned me to go back inside. I tried to shake it off—I mean I'd checked out the house enumerable times—but I just couldn't shake the feeling.
I called home. "Hey, Mom, I made it back to the Jeep okay, but I need to stop for gas," I lied.
"I'll put the stew on simmer—we can eat when you get here."
"Okay, thanks Mom. It shouldn't take long, I'll see you in a few." I hung up, killed the engine and stepped out of the Jeep to a sudden chill—not from the temperature, but something different—something supernatural maybe.
The backdoor creaked when I opened it, like before, but it was almost muted compared to the ringing of my heartbeat in my ears. If Izzy—or any of the Faulkner's for that matter—were here, they'd know I was coming. I crept forward through the kitchen not needing to let my eyes adjust to the darkness this time. Everything looked the same, furniture draped with sheets, cobwebs in the corners. I opened my cell phone and stooped down to let the flashlight app. shine across the floor. Still no sign of any recent activity in the dust. As I stared across the floor, I thought I heard a faint thump from upstairs. I brought my cell phone up to illuminate the staircase across the room and through the foyer. It was too far away for the faint light, but in the corner of the doorway, a spider scampered down it's web. "Did you hear it too?" I whispered. I stood and then crept across the kitchen as if I could sneak up on a vampire.
At the foot of the stairs, I hesitated, listening, but the house was silent. My heart sank—she wasn't here—she was never going to be here. Suddenly a loud thump echoed from the parlor behind me. I whirled around, stumbling on the bottom step and falling. My cell phone hit the floor and went sliding into the corner. It crashed against the wall sending the cover ricocheting under a chair. The light flickered a few times before going out, but not before I saw footprints in the dust on the floor. Great, broke my phone. I groped across the floor and gathered up the pieces. It wouldn't turn on after I put it back together. I grabbed the railing and pulled myself to my feet. Listening for anything was pointless, the only thing I could hear was my heartbeat.
"Izzy?" I whispered as I put my foot on the first step. "It's me, Jason." Duh, like she wouldn't know that. As I crept up the stairs I realized I hadn't noticed if the tracks I saw were coming or going. Maybe she heard me and ran. I knew she was incredibly fast, but could she have run past me without my even feeling so much as a breeze? I mean there was basic physics, right? When I reached the top of the stairs I glanced back down into the empty darkness. First room on the left, I reminded myself. If she's here, best bet would be her room.
Why is it that the floorboards in old houses always have to creak at the worst times? The groan from each step elevated the pounding in my ears to the point it was deafening. Finally I reached the doorway. Now what? I pointlessly glanced up and down the hallway, but in the darkness I couldn't see more than a few feet. Just go for it you idiot, I told myself. If it's her she already knows it's you and if it isn't her, well whoever it is already knows it's you too. "Izzy?" I stepped into the open doorway.
Like the rest of the house, the room was dark, undisturbed. The faint red light from the tower at the top of Lambs Knoll rhythmically flashed through a slight opening in the drapes and across the floor. The new leaves in the trees outside the window fluttered in the beam of light making it nearly impossible to recognize any detail, but I thought I could make out a partial footprint. I took another step—still nothing. As I started to take another step—
"Don't come any closer."
After the initial fright, I collapsed to my knees at the sound of her voice. "Thank God I found you. Are you okay?"
She didn't answer. I stared to inch my way toward the far corner, behind the draped armoire.
"Stay back." Her raspy voice sounded frightened.
"The blood thing, right—I'm such an idiot—I'm sorry. Please, I'll stay back, just come out so I can see you." I scooted back a little. "Please, Izzy."
Gradually, at the edge of the white linen draped armoire, I detected motion. She only ventured a glance and from what I could see, her hair was matted and tangled with debris, her face, dirty—streaked, and her sunken, lifeless eyes surrounded by dark rings.
"What have I done to you?" I moaned.
"This isn't your fault."
"Not my fault? Of course it's my fault—I made a mess of everything—I'm so sorry." I scooted closer again. "Please come out, Izzy, please. I need to see you—to apologize to you face-to-face—to make you understand just how sorry I am."
She cautiously appeared from behind the armoire, her pale skin visible in the darkness, but it was mottled, stained with dirt and dried blood. I was unable to contain the guilt, the shame I felt and collapsed forward in tears, my face sinking into my hands.
"Look what I've done—look what I've done." I wept. Finally I composed myself—at least enough to speak. I looked up.
Izzy's expression was conflicted. She was on her knees, dressed in the remnants of what she was wearing that night—that night I ruined everything. Her hands were tucked modestly between her legs. She remained motionless, head tilted slightly to the side, measuring.
"What are you waiting for?" I questioned. "I know you must want to kill me, and after what I did, well, I don't blame you."
Her hands moved to the floor next to her knees as she leaned forward. I closed my eyes and braced myself for her strike. I briefly thought about Mom, how hurt she would be, but this was my fault, the consequence of my actions, no matter how much I regretted them. To face my own death I guess I should have been afraid, but I wasn't, I was resolute. I just prayed that giving my blood to Izzy would save her from the misery I had caused her.
"Go on," I whispered when nothing happened. "I'm ready." I could smell the woods, the creek in her hair. She was close, maybe inches from me. What was she waiting for?
"Ready for what?" Her cool breath washed over me, but when I opened my eyes, she shot back behind the armoire.
"For you to kill me, like I deserve."
"After what I did, you want me to kill you? Never."
I nodded. "Leave me to my shame."
She reappeared from behind the armoire. "Aren't you here to shame me?"
r /> "What? I came to apologize for being such a stupid jerk."
"You're apologizing to me?"
"Yes, for the way I acted."
She seemed confused, but began to creep toward me. "You acted like a man."
I shook my head. "No, I acted like a spoiled little boy who was only thinking about what he wanted."
"If that's true, then I was acting like a spoiled little girl who was only thinking about what she wanted."
"You always do that—try to take responsibility for everything that happens. I can't let you this time, this was all me." I slowly stood never taking my eyes off of her. "I guess all that's left, is can you ever forgive me?"
She didn't respond, but also slowly stood. That heartbeat that just a short time ago was pounding in my ears had sunken silently into the pit of my stomach. I wanted to take her in my arms, kiss her and make her understand how much I loved her, but it was painfully obvious that that night, I had destroyed the best thing that had ever happened to me. No, the right thing to do was swallow my selfish pride and let her go even though I knew I would never feel the love we shared again.
"You'll be okay?" I said as I stepped back. I took another step through the doorway.
"You're leaving? You'd leave me?"
"What choice do I have? I can't do this to you anymore."
"You didn't do this."
"Didn't I? I'm not an idiot, I remember the look on your face when you smelled my blood on your hands. This is totally my fault."
"No, it's not." Izzy's voice was firm and she stepped toward me.
"But—" Before I could continue, Izzy was standing right in front of me, her finger pressed across my lips.
"No, it's not," she repeated, her cool, succulent breath washing over me.
My knees wobbled and I slipped back against the doorframe. My clumsiness lit up her eyes.
Suddenly all the fear, the apprehension disappeared from her face. "Silly human." She leaned closer, her once dismal, almost sinister expression eclipsed with a smile. "Would you just kiss me?"
I had no idea what was happening, but she didn't have to ask twice. I cautiously wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into me, our lips locked in a passionate kiss. Yeah, she had to hold me up, but I am only human. When she broke the kiss, I continued, kissing her face over and over until she stiffened.
"Right, I'm doing it again." But when I tried to pull back, her arms tightened around me. "Now?"
She looked confused.
"You don't want to kill me—you want to change me?"
She smiled and as she leaned into me I tilted my head to the side. My heart—the one that had gone still was pounding wildly again. As her lips touched my throat, her matted hair pressed into my face. Her tongue softly glided across my jugular until I choked on the foul smell of creek mud.
"What?" she said, jerking back.
"Your hair—it stinks."
"Oh really?"
I glanced down between us, my gaze washing over her scantily clad body, the cool skin of her back against my arms.
"What?" she whispered.
"You're even more beautiful than I remember."
She gave me a peck on the lips, but suddenly tensed. "Shhh."
Before I knew what happened, she swept me into the room and pressed me into the corner near the armoire, taking a guarded position in front of me. This wasn't a reaction to a human sound so I remained motionless trying to control my breathing—my heart rate was beyond control. After what seemed like an eternity, the muscles in her back relaxed. She turned back to me. The light in her eyes, the joy in her face were gone.
Is it safe? I mouthed silently.
"I can't stay."
"I'm coming with you."
She forced a sympathetic smile. "You can't."
"If you change me I can."
"It doesn't work that way." Her senses prickled, probing the darkness in and around the house. She rose up on her toes to whisper ever so lightly into my ear. "I'm not leaving you Jason—I could never leave you."
I sank down, letting my forehead come to rest on her shoulder. "You don't know how relieved I am to hear you say that. I thought—"
"Shh, no more talking. You're not safe. A lot has happened, but we can't talk here—not now."
I pulled back and stared into her eyes.
She shook her head. "Not hear." She glanced around again. "Follow me—quietly." I'd only taken two steps when she reached back and swept me up into her arms. Yeah, my girlfriend—all ninety-eight pounds of her—carried me down the steps and out to my Jeep—there's a real boost to the male ego, right? Of course, the whole 'male ego' thing is what had gotten us in this situation in the first place. Before I knew what happened, I was in the driver's seat. Izzy leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. "Go straight home, don't stop for anything."
"I can't leave you—not like this—you're obviously in danger."
She pressed a finger across my lips. "We need to talk, but I don't know when—how."
"Cathy," I mumbled through her finger.
"What?"
"She has some kind of sixth sense, she knew you were close, she said she could feel your presence."
"That doesn't make any sense."
"I don't know, but it's worth a shot." I shrugged. "Think of a place—think hard—and Cathy will tell me." I started the Jeep. "I love you."
"I love you, now go."