“Are you all right?” Sinjin asked in a voice that sounded tight, almost pained.
“It looks worse than it is,” I mumbled as I raised my eyes to look at him. He seemed completely transfixed by the sight of my blood. He was staring at it as it dripped from my hand and landed on the floor, forming a small puddle. “Can you hand me that dish towel next to the oven?”
But he did nothing of the sort. Instead he just stood there, eyes penetrating my wound. Eyes that were now … white?
“Sinjin?”
“Yes, yes,” he said absentmindedly, and his mouth formed a line as he tightened his lips in the same expression he’d had during that awful horror movie. He must have had a real aversion to the sight of blood.
“The dish towel?” I prompted when he continued to just stand there, as if my request had gone in one ear and out the other.
But he did exactly nothing, seemingly immobilized. I watched as he clenched his eyes tightly shut, his hands turning into fists at his sides. “Are you okay?” I asked as I sidestepped him and reached for the towel myself. But I never made it. Instead he grabbed me in a split second and pulled me to him, his eyes wide and most definitely white.
“Your eyes,” I started.
And then fear took hold of me. I pulled away from him and was surprised when he released me.
“I … I must go,” he said and headed for the door without waiting for my response. I wasn’t so much concerned that he had to go as I was with the state of my sanity—because I could have sworn his incisors were lengthening before my eyes—they were long enough to indent his bottom lip when he spoke.
I said nothing, just watched him as he sprinted to the door. He pulled it open at the same exact moment that Plum came inside. Once she recognized him, she reared back and hissed, her ears pressed to her head and her fur and tail standing on end.
“I … I am sorry,” he muttered as he sidestepped the cat, closing the door behind him. Once he left, Plum looked up at me with her green eyes and meowed, as if her outburst had never happened, as if she were happy to return to her role of lazy house cat. But I couldn’t say I was so easily relieved. No, I was wondering what the hell had just happened—and more important, what the hell was Sinjin Sinclair?
It was two hours later and I still couldn’t stop thinking about my bizarre evening. The spaghetti stood uneaten in the pot, now cold and sticky, and the sausage still sat on the cutting board. The only thing I’d managed to do was bandage up my finger and clean the blood off the floor.
And it was impressive that I’d been able to accomplish anything given what had happened with Sinjin. It made me doubt my own mental faculties, and even to question reality as I knew it.
Why? Because I was convinced that Sinjin Sinclair was a vampire.
I shook my head at how completely inane it sounded—how Halloween and storybook idiotic. But every time I tried to find another explanation, I came up empty-handed. And if it looked like a vampire, acted like a vampire, and felt like a vampire … it most probably was a vampire, right?
Okay, so how can you prove it, Jolie? I asked myself. Well, let’s see:
1. I’ve only ever seen him at night.
2. I’ve never seen him eat.
3. He has no aura.
4. He doesn’t speak like normal people do. His vocabulary and delivery are like something from a book … an old one. I mean, he’s self-admittedly older than I am … but how much so? That’s the question.
5. He freaked out at the sight of my blood and the blood in that movie. Freaked out doesn’t really capture it … he looked hungry.
6. Plum flipped out when she saw him and she’s never done that before.
7. His body is freezing.
8. He moves incredibly quickly.
9. He didn’t come into my house until I invited him to … holy crap, I invited him in!
10. His eyes turn white.
11. He has fangs.
12. And most important, he grabbed me when there was blood spurting from my finger and it wasn’t to try to stop the blood flow. He had the look of a starved man.
Any way I looked at it, I couldn’t escape the inevitable. Sinjin was concealing something—a huge secret.
And that secret was that he was not what he appeared to be. No, he was something far more sinister.
I felt like a zombie over the next few days, because I just couldn’t seem to sleep. I mean, how could I sleep when all I could think about was Sinjin? I knew in my heart of hearts that he wasn’t what he appeared to be. Nope, as much as my logical mind still refused to accept it, I was convinced he was a vampire. After replaying our every moment together, what else could I think? And his claim that he had Raynaud’s disease? It didn’t match up—Sinjin possessed too many vampiric traits that had nothing to do with Raynaud’s. Nope, Raynaud’s was just a handy little way to explain why he was so cold. It was an excuse and nothing more.
“Okay, what’s going on with you?” Christa asked as she leaned against the front counter in our store, busily texting one of her many boyfriends. It was a wonder that anything ever got done around here.
I hadn’t exactly decided whether or not I should tell her about my little hunch about Sinjin, but I figured I’d really lose it if I didn’t tell someone soon. Aside from my cat, who already knew that Sinjin was otherworldly, the only other person in my small circle was Christa. And if you couldn’t tell your best friend your innermost secrets, what good was having a best friend?
Sitting on a stool next to Christa, I stared at the cursor as it relentlessly blinked on my laptop screen. I couldn’t even remember what I’d been doing. I eyed Christa, debating over whether or not I should tell her about Sinjin. I mean, she usually didn’t react well in times of panic. ’Course, this wasn’t really an instance of panic, but I also didn’t expect her to be rational about it. On the other hand, what was there to be rational about? We were talking about vampires!
She placed her phone on the counter and faced me with an expression that read: Spill the beans, pronto. There was something inside me that desperately wanted to tell her while urgently hoping that she wouldn’t think I’d completely lost my mind. I just needed some kind of validation that I wasn’t headed for the loony bin.
“Okay, Chris, if I tell you something, you have to promise me to have an open mind about it,” I started, already regretting it.
“You finally had sex with him?” she asked as a slow smile spread across her face. “I know you probably feel like you shouldn’t have, but this was a long time coming, Jules. So was it good? Did he totally rock your world?”
I shook my head and couldn’t help but feel irritated. God, if only my problem was as simple as feeling like a floozy ’cause I’d had sex with Sinjin too soon. “No, that isn’t it at all,” I answered and then shushed her when she started to say something else. I took a deep breath and faced her again, wondering where I should even start. “What I’m about to tell you is going to make you seriously question my sanity.”
She frowned, puffing out her lower lip. “Jules, I would never question your sanity.”
I laughed, but there wasn’t anything happy about the sound because I’d been questioning my own judgment for the past three days—three days, I might add, during which I’d completely ignored all of Sinjin’s phone calls and messages on my answering machine. “Remind yourself of that in a few minutes.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay, what do you have to tell me that could possibly be so bad?” Her eyes widened. “You didn’t kill someone, did you?”
“Oh my God, no!”
“Well?”
“Maybe you should sit down?” I asked, pointing to the couch in the corner of the room, which served as our waiting area. I walked over and sat myself down, patting the open space next to me encouragingly.
“This has got to be pretty big news,” she said, her eyes beginning to brighten with interest. Christa loved gossip above all else, and I could just imagine how she was eating thi
s up.
“Huge,” I muttered and waited until she was sitting beside me before I took another deep breath and faced her. “Chris, you have to keep this to yourself, okay?” I couldn’t imagine Sinjin would want any of this out in the open. Furthermore, there was the question of my own safety. Shoot. I hadn’t actually thought about self-preservation in all my many hours of brooding about Sinjin. Mostly because I hadn’t felt threatened by him at any point. Even when he’d grabbed me after I’d cut my finger, he’d restrained himself. I’d never felt like he might become out of control or … dangerous. That was probably just as ludicrous as believing he was a vampire, because what do vampires do?
They eat people.
“Do you believe there are things out there that defy explanation?” I started.
She frowned at me. “Of course … I work with you! Hello?”
That was true: She did believe in psychic abilities as well as ghosts. We were off to a good start. “Okay, good point,” I started. Then my voice trailed away as I tried to think of how to broach the topic without sounding like a total whack job. “Um, Chris, what do you think about witches, vampires, and werewolves?”
She shrugged. “I think they’re cool, I guess. I mean, I really liked the Twilight movies. Edward is super-hot, but Jacob’s body …” She started fanning herself. “Someone call the fire department because I think I’m en fuego.”
Okay, she wasn’t getting it. I obviously needed to be more direct. I grabbed her hands to get her to stop daydreaming about Jacob’s chest, never mind the fact that he was like twelve or something. “Chris, I’m not talking about Twilight.”
“What are you talking about then?”
I sighed. “Do you believe that those … creatures could possibly exist?”
She was quiet as she thought about it, tapping her red fingernails against her lips. Then she cocked her head to the side and shrugged. “I mean, I guess they could. I don’t really see why they couldn’t if things like ghosts are real, you know? And my cousin who lives up in the mountains swears that she sees Bigfoot every year right around Christmastime. She even knitted him a scarf once.”
Well, if she believed in the existence of Bigfoot, vampires weren’t that much of a stretch, right?
I nodded, knowing I needed to just come out with it, because claiming to see Bigfoot every Christmas was a far cry from admitting that your boyfriend had a thirst for blood. “Chris, I think Sinjin is a vampire.”
She didn’t say anything for a long moment, just stared at me blankly. Then her mouth dropped open as if I’d sprouted another head. “Oh. My. God.”
Neither of us said anything for at least four seconds. We just sat there gaping at each other as she tried to persuade herself that I had not lost my mind.
“You’re being serious, aren’t you?” she said finally.
I sighed and nodded, dropping my eyes to my lap. “Yes, I’m being completely and totally serious, although I wish I weren’t.”
“Jolie, that’s a really big thing to accuse someone of.”
“I know.” I took a deep breath. “And believe me, I’ve tried to talk myself out of thinking it, but all the evidence points to it, Chris.”
“Hmm,” she started.
“I know I sound completely insane.”
“I don’t think you’re insane,” she interrupted and smiled at me reassuringly. “But maybe you just made a mistake, that’s all. I mean, maybe there is a logical reason behind the fact that he seems to be a vampire.”
“I doubt it.”
“Why do you think he’s a vampire anyway? Did he like try to bite you or something?”
I shook my head, although I hadn’t forgotten the way he’d lunged at my bleeding finger. Then again, he hadn’t forced my finger in his mouth or anything like that. “No, he hasn’t.”
“So what makes you think he would?”
What made me think he was a vampire? I glanced out the window, trying to get my thoughts into some sort of order. Then I faced her again and held out one finger. “He’s incredibly cold.” Second finger. “I only see him at night.” Third finger. “Plum freaks out whenever she sees him.” Fourth finger. “He moves inconceivably fast.” Fifth finger. “It’s like he gets transfixed over the sight of blood.” Sixth finger. “I’ve never seen him eat.” Seventh finger. “He has no aura.”
“Wow,” she said, her eyes growing wider.
“There’s more, but I can’t think of all of it right now.” Then I took a deep breath and faced her, wondering what she was thinking. “I know this sounds weird, Chris.”
She nodded, but didn’t say anything for a while. “The night he came here, it was pitch black.”
“Yeah.”
“And when he took the phone from me, I brushed my finger against his hand to flirt with him and I remember thinking he was freezing. But I figured it was just because he’d been outside,” she finished. I could see the wheels turning in her head. “He isn’t super-pale, though.”
“Well, maybe not all vampires are?”
She nodded. “And Plum freaks out when she’s around him?” Before I could respond, her mouth dropped open and her eyebrows reached for the ceiling. “Oh my God, Jules, did you invite him inside your house?”
I swallowed hard. “Yeah.”
She shook her head. “That isn’t good. Not at all.”
“That thought crossed my mind.”
She tapped her fingers against her knee and then faced me. “Jules, we need to find out where his daytime resting place is and we need to stake him.”
“Oh my God!” I said and stood up, aghast that she would even think such a horrible thing. “We are not staking him!”
She stood up and grabbed my shoulders when she realized that I was about to walk away from her. “Jules, think about it. He has an open invitation to your house. That means he can come in whenever he feels like it.”
“Then I’ll just take the invitation back or I’ll stay with you.”
“Those are short-term solutions.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, completely in denial that we were even having this conversation. There was no way in hell I would even consider stabbing … er, staking Sinjin. It was just insanity. “Chris, we are not freaking Van Helsing! We don’t even know for sure that he’s a vampire!”
She frowned and refolded her arms over her chest as if to say, Two can play this game. “You were just trying to convince me that he was.”
I sighed. “Okay, you win that argument, but I’m not about to go and kill Sinjin with you! He hasn’t done anything to hurt me!”
“Yet.”
So she wasn’t going to back down. I eyed her and said nothing for a few seconds. “Chris, do you really think we’d be able to take down a vampire? You and me?”
She cocked her head to the side and was quiet for a few seconds before she finally sighed and shook her head, dropping her shoulders in resignation. Thank God. “No, probably not.”
Phew. “Okay, so …”
“But we can find someone who can,” she insisted and started for the counter, where she grabbed her purse. “In the meantime, we need to go to Ralphs and buy all their garlic and then we need to go to Target and buy all their crosses.”
I sighed deep and hard, wondering why I had to put up with this crap. Yep, it had been a bad idea to tell her. Dammit. “They don’t have crosses at Target.”
“Then we need to go to a religious store,” she said and started chewing on her lip, as if trying to bring to mind a religious store close by. I didn’t even know what that meant—or if “religious stores” even existed. “On the way back, we can stop off at my mom’s church for some holy water. But I can’t be gone too long because I have a date with Richard tonight.”
Before Christa could continue plotting Sinjin’s assassination, we both turned at the sound of the door opening. A man entered carrying an enormous flower arrangement, swaying with the weight of it. The arrangement was so massive that it dwarfed him entirely; all I cou
ld see were his jean-clad legs.
“Delivery for Jolie Wilkins,” he said as he wrestled with the arrangement, finally setting it down on the counter before he stood up and stretched out his back. I heard an audible crack. “Damn thing is heavy,” he muttered.
“I’m Jolie,” I said, walking up to him. He handed me a receipt and motioned for me to sign it. I did and received a quick smile before he raked Christa up and down (she, of course, smiled flirtatiously at him).
“Hope you enjoy them,” he said, throwing Christa a wink. She didn’t respond, but she watched him slam the door and disappear into his delivery van.
“He was kinda cute,” she said, but I wasn’t paying any attention. Nope, I was focused on the mammoth bouquet. I made no attempt to approach it.
“Well, you have to find out who they’re from,” Christa said.
“I already know,” I answered. My stomach had fallen to the floor. But queasy stomach or not, I couldn’t help admiring how exquisite the arrangement was, with enormous white lilies hovering fragrantly over crimson roses. There had to be more than seventy-five roses.
Christa reached for the card. I didn’t try to stop her, so she broke the seal and pulled the card out, clearing her throat as she did so. “Please forgive me,” she read, then dropped her hand and shrugged. “That’s all it says.”
But I didn’t know if I could forgive Sinjin because it wasn’t a matter of anything he’d done. It was a matter of something that he was.
Six hours later, I was still in my store. I hadn’t had one client all day. Ordinarily, I would have packed up and gone home, but an hour or so earlier, someone had called and begged to come in for a reading. Figuring my wallet could certainly stand to benefit, I’d consented. Christa had already left to prepare for her date, but I wasn’t too concerned. I usually let her go home early when it was slow anyway.
At exactly four p.m., I heard the door open and I glanced up from where I was sitting behind the counter. I started to smile in greeting, but the smile was immediately wiped clean off my face. For the second time in the course of a week and a half, I was struck speechless by a handsome man. The first time, of course, had been when I met Sinjin. And this time … I glanced down at my logbook to where I’d haphazardly scribbled down his name.