What Kills Me (9 page)

I rolled over and crawled away from
the shore until the dirt and sand became grass. I stood up slowly
and staggered toward a forest, crunching twigs under my bare feet.
Leaning on a tree I put my hand to my chest, and my thumb slid
under a soft chain.

After all that had happened, I was
still wearing the necklace that Paolo had given me. I gripped the
pendant and tore it from my neck. The chain snapped. With a cry I
launched it into the trees.

I am finally
free.

Freedom. Relief. Triumph. I allowed
myself to feel those things. I let out a laugh and then a sob. I
wove wearily through the trees and descended into a ravine. I saw
only snippets of the sky through the green canopy. I gathered the
length of chain dragging between my legs and wrapped it around my
hands. I trudged farther, and soon the sound of water faded and was
replaced by the rustle of leaves and the song of insects. It
comforted me. I let my mind go blank for the first time in days and
I just walked. A sleepwalker.

The light receded and night took over.
I could still see the forest before me, although everything
appeared in shades of gray.

I survived the sun. That
makes me not a vampire. But I have night vision and I swam along
the ocean floor for hours. That makes me a vampire. Is there an
in-between?

I pushed through branches
and the constant crackling assailed my ears. My body felt like it
was filled with pulp. Every step was work. I leaned on a muscular
tree and scanned the woods, looking for a place to rest. Across a
small clearing I saw something gleam.
What
is that?
Squinting, I shuffled toward it.
Closer, it looked like a silver line drawn on a tree trunk.
It’s a chain.
I reached
up and took the tiny chain in my hand. I gave it a tug but it was
stuck to the tree. I dug my fingers into the bark and pried the
silver object out of the tree.

It was my necklace.

Confused, I looked
around.
I don’t understand. How did this
get here?
My tired mind remembered
throwing this away.
I did. I threw this
away. Didn’t I?
A small gasp escaped my
lips. Had I thrown it this far? Had I thrown it hard enough to
embed it into a tree?

“What the…”

In response, I heard a toad croaking.
It was squatting at the base of a moss-covered tree trunk, blowing
its throat into a huge bubble. I stood, staring at it, waiting for
it to leave but it didn’t move. And I was thankful because it eased
my loneliness.

“You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve
just had,” I said.

No answer. I crouched, facing the
toad’s glassy black eyes and throbbing gullet.

“If this was a fairy tale, we’d kiss
and you’d turn into a prince,” I said.

Croak.

“It could happen. Crazier things have
happened.”

The toad hopped away and I heard its
bloated body land in some bushes. “Thanks for the chat.”

I felt alone again. Except that all of
a sudden, I wasn’t.

A man stood about thirty feet from me.
A wide-brimmed hat hid his face but he was staring in my direction.
I dropped my necklace and froze. Something in his hand caught the
moonlight. It was an ax.

I should have run but
before I could react, he was ten feet away. He was wearing a
pea-green T-shirt and cargo pants. He looked up from under his
brown hat and squinted at me. A handsome man, he appeared to be in
his late forties. In a low, hoarse voice he said something in
Italian.
I should have studied harder at
the language school
. He took a step
forward and I stepped back. He pressed his thin lips together and
nodded once, then slid the handle of his small ax into his belt
loop. He repeated himself.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered.

“Young lady, are you lost?” he asked
in English.

I said nothing.

“My name is Noel,” he said. “Are you
lost?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Are you alone? I heard you talking to
someone.”

“I…I was talking to a
toad.”

“I see,” he said. “Did he talk
back?”

I shook my head.

“That is a good sign. Where are you
headed?”

I didn’t know so I couldn’t
say.

“Where did you come from?”

“I’m from Canada.”

“Well,” he said. He put his hands on
his hips. “You are a long way from home.”

All of a sudden, my knees trembled and
my peripheral vision became fuzzy. Everything started to turn
sideways. Either the world was tipping over, or I was falling. Noel
rushed to my side.

“Whoa, easy there,” he said. He held
my elbows and shook me until my lolling head rolled backward. “Hey,
hey, are you okay?”

I tried to say that I was fine, but it
came out in a mumble. I felt woozy.

He looked at my shackles. “Who did
this to you?” his voice was so far away. “Don’t worry. We can get
these off of you.”

He lowered me onto my knees and kicked
a rock in front of me. He positioned my hands on either side of the
rock and pulled his ax free.

“Now, don’t move.”

He didn’t give me a second to answer
or even blink. With one swoop, he cut through the links between my
manacles. The chain that had held me to the wall jangled as it
piled onto the ground.

“My house is nearby. Why don’t you
stop there, rest your feet, have something to drink and then you
can be on your way? I have some tools there to get these things off
of your wrists.”

I tried to meet his green eyes but my
eyes would not focus. He had soot smeared across the bumpy bridge
of his nose. He interpreted my murmuring as an affirmative answer
and led me further into the forest. I was so tired. The journey was
a blur, punctuated by crickets, the whisper of leaves, trickling
water, and Noel’s encouragement: “Easy. Almost there.” I stumbled
over some rocks and had to grab his forearm to steady
myself.

“Careful now,” he said. “We’ll need to
find you some shoes.”

He lifted me over a creek, like a
father would a child, his hands under my armpits and in a sweeping
arc.

“You must have been through something
awful,” he said, almost to himself. “You must be a very brave
girl.”

Or a stupid girl,
following a stranger to his deserted house in the woods. He could
be a serial killer. Then again, I’m the undead.

In the distance, I thought I heard the
tinkle of bells. “It’s just beyond these trees,” he
said.

His squat, gray stone house sat in the
middle of a clearing, its roof shingles weathered and covered in
moss. On either side of the entrance was a shuttered window, and a
crystal wind chime dangled beside the wooden door. The air smelled
like firewood.

I waited at the front door while he
went inside and fumbled for lights.

“I keep telling Jerome to go into town
to fix our generator,” Noel said, his voice becoming soft and then
loud as he moved around the house. I heard the sizzle of a match.
He lit several lanterns.

From the entrance I scanned
the living room on my left and a dining area on my right. Inside,
the walls were bare stone.
If only the
ceilings weren’t so low I could show Noel my wall-climbing prowess
in his home.

Against one wall sat a mahogany-framed
Victorian sofa. In front of the sofa, there was a rectangular
coffee table and a black rocking chair. An intricate spider web
spread across the rungs on the back of the chair; tiny victims were
wound up in gauze in every quadrant but there was no sign of their
predator. Four chairs were pushed under a round dining table
covered with hardcover books, mallets, and other tools. Beyond the
living area the kitchen was bare, except for a few glasses and mugs
arrayed on the wooden, L-shaped counter.

“Come in,” he said. He threw his hat
on the counter and rubbed his short brown hair.

I took one step inside on the tips of
my toes. “I’m sorry about…” I looked down at my dirty legs and feet
on the hardwood floors.

“Don’t worry. Look, I’m wearing my
boots. None of us ever cleans anyway. Come in and close the door.
Let me get you a glass of something.”

He bent over the sink and began
rinsing out a white teacup with a faded floral pattern and a curly
handle.

“I should get Jerome to sweep or dust
or something.”

“Jerome is your son?” I asked. I
didn’t want to sit. Everything was covered in a layer of dust so I
just leaned on a dining chair to steady myself.

“I consider him like a son. My son’s
name is Lucas. They’re probably both out back, trying to avoid
their chores. Let me call them.”

He left the teacup in the sink and
pulled open a back door. “Boys, come in here.”

I heard grunting and the clink of
metal against metal. I leaned backward so I could peer out the
door. In the field behind the house, two figures circled each
other, their long swords glinting in the moonlight. They approached
one another until the tips of their blades crossed.

“Attack,” the taller one
said.

“What is your name?” Noel said. I
looked at him as he opened a small fridge with rounded
corners.

“Zee. My name is Zee,” I said. When my
eyes flitted back, the smaller figure was rolling in the grass and
the taller one stood over him, holding his sword over his
shoulder.

“Boys!” Noel called.

The taller one extended his hand and
pulled his opponent to his feet. They slipped their swords into
sheaths and came jogging toward the house, two shirtless young men
in dark, baggy shorts.

“I keep telling you to keep your blade
higher or you’ll slash your own neck when you block,” the taller
one said. He had a smooth baritone voice.

The smaller one bounded into the house
and stopped dead inside the doorway. He looked to be about fourteen
years old, with sandy blond hair and blue eyes. A slow smile spread
across his face. “Hey, Lucas. Check this out.”

The taller one stepped in. About six
feet tall, slim and muscled, he had olive skin and close-cropped
brown hair. He seemed to be about my age or older. He looked me up
and down; he wasn’t smiling. I tugged my skirt toward my
knees.

“Boys, this is Zee.”

“Hello,” the smaller guy said, bowing
his head. “I am called Jerome.”

“I found her lost in the woods. She’s
just stopping by for a rest,” Noel said.

“What did we say about taking in
strays?” Lucas said in a monotone.

“Ignore him, Zee. He can be a little
moody.”

“What’s with the schoolgirl outfit?”
Lucas said.

I hugged my arms across my chest.
“These clothes aren’t mine,” I said.

Lucas narrowed his eyes. “And the
cuffs?”

“I thought they went with the
outfit.”

Jerome smiled, but Lucas remained
stone-faced.

“Jerome, get a chair for
Zee.”

Jerome ran up to me and grabbed the
chair that I was leaning on. He pulled it out and spun it around.
“Please,” he said. He pushed a stack of books away, creating
streaks of dust on the table. Lucas crossed his arms over his abs
and leaned back against the fridge.

“Thanks,” I said and sat
down.

Noel set the teacup in front of me.
“Here you go.”

I looked down and gasped. It was
filled almost to the brim with blood. I looked up at
them.

“What’s wrong?” Noel asked.

“How did you know that I
was…”

“Was what?” Lucas said.

I scanned each of their faces. Noel
looked confused, Jerome curious, and Lucas irritated.

“That I was a…”

“Vampire?” Lucas said.

I nodded.

“Do we look like idiots?” Lucas
retorted.

“Of course not,” I said.

“Are you an idiot?” Lucas
again.

“Possibly,” I said.

“Lucas,” Noel said.

“We’re vampires,” Lucas said. “We can
hear that your heart doesn’t beat.”

I had put myself in a
dangerous position. “Are you an idiot?” Lucas had said.
Yes. I am.
I needed to
leave. I pushed my chair back and tried to stand. Instead I slipped
to the floor, causing Jerome to cry out in alarm. Lucas sighed and
left through the back door. Jerome put me back in the
chair.

“Are you new?” Noel asked.

I nodded.

“When?”

“I’m not sure anymore. Yesterday or
the day before.”

“Where is your sire?”

“My what? I don’t
understand.”