Chapter 15

Chapter

Fifteen

There is something comforting about the lines in the middle of the interstate coming at me as I drive. They're hypnotic and constant, mesmerizing me to keep me on track. Paul finally relinquished the wheel. It took some convincing, but in the end, I think it was his daughter needing him that did it.

I feel him breaking inside. It's not anything I can define. It's in the tightness of his movements, as if every gesture needs to be in control. His kind expressions have turned to worry. He doesn't act as if he blames me, but it's my fault. I did this to them with my selfish need to be saved and my desire not to be alone.

Diana is curled up next to him in the back seat. For the longest time, I'd glance in the mirror and see his eyes staring back, but now they're both sleeping beneath one of his emergency blankets. If I had to guess, I'd say he fought to stay awake, but the days of driving and the letdown after an adrenaline rush were too much for his body. I'm too amped to rest while it's still dark outside.

It seems cruel at this point of our journey to tell them vampires can transform and fly or that bats, by nature, can blend into the night. Paul is still coming to grips with the fact they're real. He kept trying to convince himself that they were on some kind of new designer drug or part of a satanic cult. But he had difficulty explaining why punching that vampire felt like hitting meat hanging in a refrigerator unit.

My clothes have dried, for the most part. There is a dampness along the inside of my thighs that reaches around to my lower back. It's uncomfortable, but I don't want to stop the car. Since I gave Diana the t-shirt in my backpack, the only other option was my wrinkled funeral dress. Putting something like that on feels like bad luck, like tempting fate. I don't want to bury anyone else I care about.

And I do care about Paul and Diana. They've become very important to me.

As I drive, the constant hum of the tires on the pavement fills me with dread. I keep as close to the other cars as possible, hoping to find safety in numbers. The image of the motel flashes in my mind, reminding me that no matter how close I am to others, it won't guarantee our protection against a vampire attack. But I know that being isolated is far worse, as it makes us an easy target for their bloodthirsty hunger.

I try not to think of the guests in the other rooms. The guilt is undeniable. I remember hearing a debate once at trivia night in a bar. They were talking about old action movies and how a hundred innocent bystanders would die in the hero's effort to save one woman. But because they were unnamed extras, the audience didn't care.

Well, this isn't an action movie. It's real life. And I care. I just can't do anything about it.

Those people died because of me. Sure, I don't have proof that they're dead, but vampires aren't exactly known for letting their snacks live.

How did my life come to this?

I don't recognize myself.

I find myself toying with the amulet, rolling it against my fingers. My grandfather would've known what to do. Out of everyone, he had the most patience for me. Conrad cares in his own unique way—I know that—but he's jaded. And right now, he's busy dealing with the estate and getting me out of legal trouble.

I'm alone.

Utterly human. Utterly alone.

At least Diana and Paul have each other. And Paul has his parents in Kansas.

Family.

I think of the number Conrad sent me for my birth mother. Even if I didn't suspect what fate probably has in store for me, I'm not sure I'd be ready to call her. This is a woman who gave up her baby to be raised by her lover and his wife.

My feelings toward Lady Astrid are torn. She raised me and is the only mother I've ever known. But did she love me? With her, it's hard to tell. That's the one question I never allowed myself to dwell on. Love wasn't a priority in the Devine household.

I like to think that if I had a kid, I'd walk through fire to get to her.

What if Lorelai didn't want a baby?

What if she resented me for ruining her affair, and it was easy for her to give me up?

What if my parents pressured her? Or cast a magic spell to make her forget?

What if she didn't care?

What if she did care?

Why didn't my grandfather tell me about her? Surely, as the Devine patriarch, he knew. If he did, he'd have a good reason. Maybe she was dangerous? Or a druggy like Conrad's birth mother?

To hell with my churning mind! Why does my brain always have to roll every thought around in fifty thousand directions before it can stop?

I grip the wheel, blinking against the highway hypnosis and wishing for a shot of espresso to make me more alert. The first peek of dawn coloring the horizon releases a tight hold on my chest. Vampires will be slinking back into their nests. We're safe—well, safe-ish—for another day. That doesn't give me much time to come up with my next move.

Lorelai Weber lives in California.

We'll be in Kansas City soon. Paul will be stopping to see his parents. No matter how much I want to stay with him, I shouldn't. I should keep running and lure the vampires away. I'm the one they want.

"Someone wants to see you, blood sack."

That's what the vampire said as he looked at me. The creature had barely glanced at Paul and Diana as if they were inconsequential.

So California? I need to go somewhere.

I'll have to call her first. Even if I don't go to meet her, even if I don't survive to see her next week, I'd regret not at least hearing her voice and hearing what she has to say.

I can't help but think of Conrad's mother, drugged out on the couch, wanting money for her next fix.

Whatever the truth reveals, at least I'll know.

I force my hands to loosen their death grip as I take a deep breath. It's decided. I'll call. I'll leave.

The best thing for Paul and Diana is never to see me again. I'll be that fading memory of the woman they met after a funeral.

"How long was I out?" Paul's voice is low and sleepy. He moves behind me.

I feel a wave of guilt at hearing his voice right as I decide to cut ties. Clearing my throat, I guess, "Four hours?"

I look in the mirror and see him readjusting a sleeping Diana on the seat.

"I feel like I'm coming out of a coma." He leans up between the seats and rubs the bridge of his nose.

"It's good. You needed rest." I blink and concentrate on staying in my lane.

"It's been," he chuckles to himself but doesn't appear amused as he shakes his head and finishes, "a rough couple of weeks."

"The important thing is it's almost over," I tell him. Well, it's not almost over for me, but this moment isn't about me. "You'll be with family soon."

He nods, but I see reservation in his expression. I can't blame him if he doesn't want me around the rest of his family after last night.

"My brother is making arrangements for me in Kansas City," I say to let him off the hook before he has to turn me away.

"Oh, but you can stay?—"

"There are family things I need to deal with." I try to think of a good excuse. "Legal estate stuff, you know. And you said your mother has been ill. She doesn't need the drama that seems to be following me around. Besides, I think I will be heading on to California."

Seeing an exit that looks promising, I signal to turn off the interstate.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, our private detective found the contact information for my birth mother, so… yeah. Could be the best thing. She's my biological mother. I should meet her." I slow the car. My lower back aches and my exhaustion headache worsens. I need to stretch my legs and splash some cold water on my face before I pass out. "I mean, thank you for getting me this far, but I think, you know…"

"This conversation… It's like we're dancing around trying to be overly cordial." Paul lifts a hand as if to touch me but lets it hover. "I think we should be frank."

I nod. "I feel awful about what I've brought into your life."

"I don't blame you for anything that's happened." He drops his hand. "I should never have stopped for the night in a questionable neighborhood. I let my frustration get the better of me when we were pulled over."

Okay. He wants blunt. I'm tired enough to give it to him. I pull into a parking lot and stop the car. Unbuckling my seat belt, I turn to look at him.

"Paul, my life is a mess. There are rules to being a member of the Devine family. When my parents were alive, I was protected. They were so powerful that no one would dare to fuck with me. I don't mean rich, though they were. I mean powerful. Magical. Like ancient magic. Now that they're gone, Conrad and I don't have that protection anymore. And that's why vampires think it's okay to come after me now."

"You're magical?" He rubs the bridge of his nose and glances behind him at Diana. "Let's talk outside."

As he silently exits the car, I let loose a deep sigh. I follow him out into the nearly empty gas station parking lot. It's not lost on me that my wet crotch probably makes it look like I peed myself.

Could I be any less attractive?

Early morning traffic fills my ears as we stand by the roadside. The nearest people are at the gas pumps, ignoring us as they go about their day. Crisp air sends a shiver down my spine, but I inhale it deeply, relishing the fresh scent of dawn.

"I'm not magical. I'm human. My father came from a Welsh witch line." I feel the words rush out of me like a bumbling, rambling mess of a confession. "My mother, or the woman I thought was my mother, Lady Astrid, is from an even older Norse line, descended from the gods of old. Anthony inherited all that. I have a human mother, and I didn't inherit magical powers. Conrad was adopted, so he's all human. And since we're mortal, we're not scary and?—"

"Whoa," Paul puts his hands on my shoulders. Strong fingers massage my tense muscles. His eyes bore into mine, steady and sure. "Calm down. Take a breath."

"I'm so sorry I put you both in danger." Tears well up in my eyes. I'm exhausted, and frustrated, and scared. I shrug and toss my hands to the side. "And I know you don't believe me about magic. I wish I could prove it to you, but I'm…"

"Shh." He pulls me against his chest and wraps his arms around me. Holding me close, he whispers, "I believe you."

A tiny sob escapes me at the admission, and I pull back to see if he's placating me. He looks serious.

Paul doesn't let me go. His gaze focuses on my necklace. "I'm not saying it's not a lot to take in, but I believe you. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me the night of the fire. But then, last night, I saw the same thing. Something, some force, protected you and Diana from danger. And I don't think it was throwing a jar of minced garlic, or at least that wasn't all of it."

I touch the necklace. Its protection was only a story to make me feel better. Wasn't it?

"I notice you play with that when you're nervous," he says.

I don't release the amulet and ignore the observation. "I don't think anyone has ever just trusted me."

"You protected my daughter, Tamara," he answers as if that one thing erases all the craziness. "Twice. Of course, I trust you."

"Then trust me when I say we need to part ways. The fires, the vampire attack, the resulting legal troubles, they're connected to me and my family. If I'm not with you, you'll both be safer. Always be cautious of strangers, and if anyone ever asks, just tell them I paid you to give me a ride to Kansas City." No part of me wants to leave him, but I know it's for the best.

A soft knock sounds on the window. Diana's face is pressed to the glass next to her splayed fingers.

"You're exhausted." Paul sighs and glances around. "Nothing must be decided this second. Why don't you try to sleep in the car? I'll take Diana to get us all some fresh clothes, then breakfast. Okay?"

I nod. Paul reaches for the driver's side door as I make a point of walking around the vehicle to check for markings. I don't know when anyone would have had the opportunity, but I look anyway. The car is clean after the rainstorm.

"Diana, hop in the front. Tamara needs to lie down," Paul says as I open the back door to get in.

I crawl into the bed that Diana left behind. I can sense the warmth from her body still lingering on the covers. I bunch up a corner of the blanket to use as a makeshift pillow and turn to face the seat back so that my fellow passengers won't see the tears streaming down my face. I pull the blanket over my head to block out the light as I try to suppress my emotions.

I'm tapped out. I don't want to feel anything.