Creature of Habit (Creature of Habit #1) (24 page)

Chapter 37

Amelia

Where did she go? I wondered, and waited for the cool breeze to rush past my body. "Come back!" I called, picking up my pace. Why would she run away?

I heard her cry out and tumble, like always. I kept running and felt my feet slip from under me and I too was falling, my arms searching for anything to hold. My fingers desperately searched for the jagged edge I knew protruded from the side of the cliff.

I tentatively looked down and found her. Jenna clung for her life, the bright fire beneath us. "Help me!" she cried, her teeth gleaming from the brightness of the fire below. I watched, helpless, and felt the tears begin to stream down my face.

"I'm coming," I yelled, knowing though that it was of no use. I could never get to her in time. The flames moved closer and closer to the girl. This time though I felt the heat, the cold air that normally surrounded me was gone. Panicking a little at the change, I looked for my escape.

My eyes fixed on the root above me, and I felt a sense of relief as I scratched my way up the side of the cliff toward salvation. My fingers brushed the cold, rough surface and I waited for it to transform from a root to a strong, safe arm. It never happened. For once there was no transformation, instead the root crumbled under my touch shattering into brittle pieces.

My hand grasped at the dirt and debris and I shouted, "Grant!" desperate to find him, desperate for him to save me. But there was nothing to hold on to and he wasn't there. I fell, tumbling past Jenna and the fires below.

I woke with a start, the edge of a scream on my tongue, drenched in sweat.  I'd had the same dream for weeks, every night, exactly the same. Something had changed and a feeling of dread settled cold in my chest. As weird and abstract as my dreams had been they had always been consistent. Like Grant. Weird, but present. I pulled back the cover, left with the lingering feeling of desperation. I had to wonder about my dream: where had he gone and why did he leave me?

~*~

After showering and getting ready for the day, my nerves finally settled down. Okay, the dream nerves dissipated. The ones about my plans with Grant for that night intensified. I heard Drew in the kitchen and decided to face the day and the many questions he was bound to have once he saw the extra stuff I planned on carrying to work today.

"Drew, do we have any more bagels?" I asked, entering into the kitchen with my satchel and a couple of hangers holding my clothes for the art exhibit.

He pointed to the counter and raised an eyebrow in the direction of my clothes as he finished chewing. I picked up a knife and slathered cream cheese on the top.

"Going somewhere after work?"

Placing the knife in the sink, I walked over to the stool on the other side of the kitchen counter. I shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe."

He waited for me to continue, but I didn't. Instead I took a large bite of my bagel, trying to contain the smug grin that threatened to escape. Drew knew me too well.

"Amelia, are you going out with Grant Palmer?"

"Define going out.”

Happy to play along, he said, "If he is taking you to dinner, or any other specific location, just the two of you, alone, wearing special clothes, and he asked you beforehand. That is going out. A date, in fact."

I pretended to think it over for a second. "Ummmm…then yes. Grant and I are going out. But, I don't think I would call it a date."

Drew literally began buzzing around the kitchen. "Oh my God, Amelia. Oh. My. God. Grant Palmer asked you out."

I couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corner of my lips, partially because my roommate looked like he may jump over the counter and sit in my lap out of sheer giddiness. But really, I couldn't hide my own excitement about my plans with Grant tonight. It wasn't a date, I knew that, but at the same time it was something other than two friends going to an art exhibit. I told Drew this and explained the Jackson Pollock painting and how he offered to take me to a special exhibit of this type of work.

My phone rang, and as I picked it up, Drew said, "Amelia, I don't care what you say, that is a date."

I picked up my phone, glancing at my watch, and realized it was time for Grant to pick me up. "Hello."

"Good morning, Amelia.” My heart beat faster at the sound of his voice.

"Hey, are you here? Do you want me to come down?"

"Actually, I can't come get you today, I'm sending my cousin. There was an emergency at work and I can't leave right now. He should be there any minute." Before I could respond a sharp knock sounded on the door.

"Elijah?" I asked and swung the door open. "Err…not Elijah." The largest teenaged boy I had ever seen stood in my doorway with a frightening grin on his face. I eyed him, trying not to gawk at his massive size. Once I moved past the fact he was a giant it dawned on me that he was gorgeous and way, way, wayyyyyy to young.

Increasingly, I was suspicious that Grant grew-up in some strange foster care system of genetically superior people.

"No, my other cousin, Ryan. I'm so sorry," he apologized, and broke me out of my ogling.

"Its fine, Grant. I'll see you in a little bit."

I slung my bag over my shoulder and took in the hulking man in front of me. "So you're Ryan." I tried to focus my eyes on his face and not the ridiculous size of his hands.

"I am. And you must be Amelia." His voice was softer than I would have expected. He held out one of his giant paws for my bag. "Grant said I'm supposed to carry that."

I rolled my eyes. "I know Grant thinks I'm helpless but I'm not. I'm actually capable of carrying my things on my own."

He nodded, flashing me another brilliant smile. I walked past him, holding my head high. Too high, it seemed, since I tripped on the threshold, causing my bag and clothes to tumble to the ground. Fortunately, I never actually fell since I was being held several inches off the ground by the two enormous hands I had previously been studying. He gently placed me back on my feet and I sighed in embarrassment before stealing a look at Ryan, who was shaking with laughter. I took a moment to straighten my shirt and hair, my face turning ridiculously red. I picked up my bag and forcefully shoved it at him. He took it without a word and followed me down the hall. At the top of the stairs I turned to him, making as much eye contact as possible with our height difference, and said in my most authoritative voice, "Do not tell Grant this happened."

A huge grin broke out across his face and he gave me the most adorable boyish grin. God. What a heartbreaker this kid was going to be. He winked and said, "Are you kidding? If I deliver you to his house with even a scratch, I'll never hear the end of it. This is strictly between you and me."

I grimaced at the accuracy of his statement. I suspected he was right. Grant, for whatever reason, had definitely accepted the role of my protector whether I'd asked him to or not.

"Good. Now, let's go before he drives over here to find out why we're late." I said, and we both laughed as we walked down the stairs to the parking lot.

Chapter 38

Grant

Bracing myself for his arrival, Ryan bounding up the stairs immediately upon depositing Amelia at her desk.

“I like her.”

“Excuse me?”

“She’s feisty. Absolutely stubborn and has a classic combative personality. She’s perfect for you.”

The gleam in his eye was a bit too intrigued. "Ryan, don't make me regret letting you drive her to work."

He stood across from me, hulking in size, and rolled his eyes. "I won't. And you're welcome. I knew you weren't eating her because she was pretty. Don't even try to deny it."

"I'm not denying anything. Or admitting anything. Not to you," I said, childishly. Ryan had this tendency to bring out my inner sixteen-year-old even after all this time. Like all of us, some extreme traits had seemed to freeze at the moment of our transition.

We were in my bedroom. Elijah and Olivia were next door in the office on the computer. I had a stack of papers lying across the bed and skimmed through them for some notes I had taken earlier. Ryan, rarely invited to my house, looked at the shelf on the wall that held some personal objects. I watched as he picked up my signed Shoeless Joe Jackson ball and practiced his windup.

“Do you think you would have gone to see him in the World Series if you hadn't changed?”

Ryan loved to talk about baseball. He loved it as a kid, listening outside of bars or wherever he could catch it on a radio. When he discovered this part of my collection, he badgered me with questions for a month.

"Probably," I answered even though he already knew this. We'd had this discussion a million times.

"Would you have gone with your dad?" he asked, again knowing the answer, but obviously wanting to pretend he hadn’t.  When you live together for over fifty years, subjects tend to come up more than once.

"Yes, he loved baseball. He worshipped the Yankees. He was the one who told me to keep an eye on Babe Ruth even though he was still in Boston." I said, trying to remember as much as I could. It no longer hurt to remember but it had become difficult to place the memories from before I turned.

"I would have loved to have seen Babe Ruth. Just my luck I became immortal the year he decided to retire,” he said wistfully. I laughed at the irony of the fact we can have anything we want unless it is bound by time or humanity.

Mid-pitch he said, “So how long has it been.”

I flipped through the papers, barely listening to him. “What?”

“I’m curious. How exactly is this going to work, you being a vampire and Amelia being a human? You know, sex and stuff.”

“You’re kidding me.” I glanced up. "Really? That is where this is going?"

He nodded and I was shocked to see his face was completely free of humor or mocking. I shouldn’t be surprised. Ryan and Sebastian grew up in a world of loose morals. Sex was a daily part of their lives from a young age. A job even. That was how their mother put food on the table.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. I mean, we’ve all thought about it at one time or the other. Not you and Amelia—just humans.”

"Look, I'm not going to deny I've thought about it." I shifted my gaze away from Ryan down to my hands. "I thought about it, a lot, but I don't know the precedence on this. If there even is one."

“Vampire-human sex isn’t new, Grant.”

I thought about his history—how he was created. “No, it’s not. I apologize if I’m being insensitive."

“You’re not and whatever this is with you and Amelia, it’s not the same thing that happened to my mother. You’re giving her the choice.”

“I don’t know if I even want this to be a choice—if it should be.”

“Sebastian will have a hard time with this. He’s not as open-minded as I am.”

"Undoubtedly.”

“He’ll come around.”

“Look, you're way ahead of the game here. I’ve kept my distance—barely even allowing myself to touch Amelia right now, not until she knows the truth about what I am.  It’s not fair to trick her into something she doesn’t understand. Beyond the ethics of the situation, I don’t exactly trust myself with her.”

“That bad, huh?”

“If you mean amazingly good, then yeah, that bad.” I swung my chair around and gazed out the window. The sun was already out full force. It would be a warm day. “I’m going to have to tell her at some point. Sooner than later.”

I already regretted those words. I wasn’t sure if I ever could tell her the truth. I wanted to, and I had promised not to lie to her anymore, but I was terrified of her reaction.

~*~

I assessed myself in the mirror as I buttoned the cuffs on my shirt. The fabric was pale green, one of Olivia's selections. She picked it out, along with an entire outfit, laying it on the dressing table for me to see when I walked in. Now I found myself analyzing the mop of hair on top of my head. It was its usual catastrophe, sticking up and in total disarray. There was little I could do at this point, yet I continued to poke and prod it into some kind of submission. Nature made my hair this way, while immortality froze it in place. Nearly a century later I continued to fuss over it like a school boy.

Amelia was downstairs changing for our evening together. With every passing minute, I was convinced this was the longest day I'd ever lived. The afternoon was spent discussing the tokens left by Caleb and what they could mean. Elijah hacked into the police system. We quickly determined that the necklace and cross was definitely Jenna’s. There was an inscription on the back that said, ‘Love, Mom and Dad’ which matched the information in her file.

The brooch was harder to determine, as Amelia had not made a police report or told me of any missing items from the break in. We suspected it must be hers, but had no concrete evidence. I was hesitant to bring it up—an ugly reminder of the violation of her home. Elijah searched the files of the other missing people and murder victims that matched our profiles and wasn't able to connect any of them to the brooch, which only convinced us further it was most likely Amelia's. At this point it didn’t really matter if we confirmed the jewelry or not. Caleb had targeted Amelia. It made the most sense.

I hid upstairs all day, away from Amelia, terrified to face her before tonight. What if she changed her mind? Or came to her senses? What if she realized after all this time that I was truly a monster—a demon—who should be feared? Part of me almost hoped she had a revelation before the evening came and I could put this entire fantasy to rest.

I took one last look over my shoulder into the mirror, compulsively trying to make the hair on my head do something other than what it was. It was mostly nerves, I knew, I'd looked exactly the same for the last ninety years. Some things never change.
That’s enough
, I told myself, forcing my body out the door and pacing myself at human speed, one step at a time. I stopped at the landing at the bottom of the stairs.

I smelled her before I saw her, lemons mixed with shampoo and adrenaline. It was her specific, delightful scent and I begged the vampire in me not to respond. I followed her trail to the library where she stood before the shelves, scanning my books. She touched each spine gently, using the soft pads of her fingers. I soaked her in. Her hair was knotted up on the back of her head, loose tendrils falling haphazardly down her neck. I could see my favorite spot, the one under her ear, and it was all I could do to keep my distance. Amelia turned around, letting the skirt of her black sundress flutter around her legs. The fabric was pitch-black, with white embroidered designs. The color accentuated her pale flesh and showed more skin than a vampire could ever resist. I smiled when I saw her and rejoiced when her entire face lit up in response. She was possibly the most beautiful creature I had ever seen and I opened my mouth to tell her these very words.

Except I couldn’t. Warring desires choked me, lodging the compliments in my throat.  When she turned in my direction, I floundered helplessly. She smiled, lifting her eyebrow in anticipation. Oh god, I’d failed already.

"Grant," she said, cutting through the palpable tension, by pulling a thick, black binder off the shelf. "Is this what I think it is?"

Huh? I tried to focus on the book in her hands and not the gentle curve of her neckline. "Umm…what do you think it is?"

She opened the book and held it up. "Comic books. Lots of them. Individually wrapped and numbered and tagged." She was now flipping through the plastic folders, running her fingers over the covers with an excited look on her face.

"Oh, yes. Those are mine." Her excitement amused me. Only Amelia would find this to be the most interesting thing in a room full of first editions and rare books. The comics were a loaded subject if she asked me where and when I acquired them. The weight of my promise to be honest with her weighed heavily on my mind.

I cleared my throat to get her attention and she closed the book slowly before looking up. She took in my appearance for a moment, starting with my hair, (my godforsaken hair) and ending at my feet.

She took a step forward, her lips curved evilly. "Have you already forgotten our conversation about trying new things?"

I pulled up the hem of my pants and said, "No, look. Not boots. Shoes. Brown yes, but not boots." I couldn't help but succumb to her infectious laugh. "I'm changeable, and with the right motivation, I find I can do almost anything."

I dropped the hand holding my trousers. My words hung in the air. It had been so long since I was around someone I cared for, if I ever really had, and now I’d said it out loud.

We stood in the library, me in the doorway, Amelia still near the shelves, neither knowing exactly what to do next. Her hands smoothed the fabric of her dress, and mine were precariously close to running compulsively through my hair. It was clear she was waiting for me to do something. Anything. For a brief second, I considered running. She could never catch me.  I caught sight of myself in the mirror across the room. I was shocked at the actual panicked expression on my face. I focused on my freakish purple eyes and wondered if I could pull this off. Like Ryan implied, there was no way this could possibly work. I was a monster and she was an angel.

Oh god. What the hell was I doing?

"Grant, do you know who my favorite superhero is?" Amelia asked, snapping me out of my spiraling breakdown.

"No." I answered.

“The boys were arguing about this at the bar a couple weeks ago. The night you showed up to save me from Sasha.” She took a step closer. “Since Drew is dating Jess and they’re around all the time, I’ve managed to now see every current and not-so-current superhero movie available. But that night they fought about Superman vs—“

“Captain America,” I said.

“How…”

I shrugged.

“After you showed up in that dark alley and saved me, I knew who my favorite superhero was.”

“Who?” Me?

“Batman.”

“I don’t think that was one of the choices,” I said, utterly lost.

"He has such a sense of conviction and drive. He was overcome by the tragedies of his past but decided to help people instead of hurting them. I know he doesn't have real super powers but he uses discipline, strength and intelligence to fight for those in need. But he has such conflict in his life and it shows in how he chooses to live. Batman chose his path, which kind of makes him more awesome than someone like Superman. He lives with darkness, not just the light and righteous, like Captain America. Living a solitary life but also surrounding himself with people he trusts.” She closed the remaining distance between us and handed me the book she still held in her hands. With a cocky grin she said, "Not to mention he drives the Bat-mobile, which is pretty much the coolest car ever.”

“Batman,” I repeat.

“Oh and don’t forget, he has a jawline the ladies swoon over."

Placing the book on the table by the door, I returned her smug grin with one of my own. "The Bat-mobile, huh? What if I told you I could possibly challenge your idea on the coolest car ever?”

She rolled her eyes. "Doubtful. But if you want to try, I'm game."

"Follow me," I directed, leading her to the garage. Amelia's shoes clicked on the floor behind me and I flipped the light switch. Walking across the garage to the far side, I stopped at the sea of blue covering the car. I hesitated for a moment, thinking about what I was about to do. I glanced at Amelia. She waited eagerly to see what was under the cover. So eager to experience what I had to show her. I rubbed my jaw and grabbed a fistful of the tarp in my other hand, yanking it off in one quick swoop.

I’d forgotten how beautiful she was.

I turned and looked at Amelia, whose eyes were wide and had the most gorgeous smile on her face. I placed my hand on the slick, canvas roof and said, "Amelia, this is the coolest car ever."