Chapter 44 #2
His words spread through my body like burning fire. “What!”
Karson laughed. “Are you worried about what I might have seen, Amelia?”
“Yes. It’s a breach of privacy—you can’t just go around peeking into people’s heads.” The fire glowed on my cheeks. I wanted to crawl under the seat and hide.
“Relax, I cannot read yours. I only get brief snippets when your guard is down, not that I haven’t tried.” He smiled at that thought. “And it’s not like I can help it. I tune it out most of the time, all that incessant, mundane chatter fragiles dwell on is preposterously boring.”
“Ethan, can he read minds too?” I gulped.
“Yes, why is that a concern for you?” Now he sounded annoyed.
“Because I live with him.” I threw my hand out in bewilderment of why he would need to ask.
“It appears he cannot read you either.”
I felt a rush of relief. I wondered why the question about Ethan shifted his mood, but I had more questions I needed answers to, so I ploughed ahead. “How often do you need to . . .” I paused, the words dropping away.
“Drink?” He filled in for me.
I nodded, almost reluctant to hear the answer.
“I can go a month if I have to, but I drink every night if I can.”
I glanced at him again, his mood had lightened as if the thought of drinking blood was no big deal to him.
I guessed it wasn’t, it was as normal to him as it was for me to eat dinner.
I wanted to ask the trap door question. Did he kill the people he drank from?
Who in Church Heights did he feed from—Rebecca—all those missing people?
I opened my mouth to speak, the words rolled around on my tongue and brought a bitter taste to my mouth and resounding trepidation to my mind.
I closed it again, didn’t ask. I decided I didn’t want to know.
“But you eat food too, do you need both to survive?”
“No, we do not need to eat food at all, we evolved over the years to do it so as to be able to go unnoticed by your kind. Food is for social purposes, it’s not something I partake in very often, only blood keeps us alive.” He looked across, taking stock of my response. “Are you hungry?”
I thought it a peculiar question, given our topic of conversation. “We talk about blood and you ask me if I’m hungry?”
“That would be a no then, I assume?”
“Yes, Karson, that’s a no. Are you?”
“A little.” He gave a blank look. I couldn't read his expression, it unsettled me, did he mean hungry for food or blood . . . my blood?
“Oh, um, okay. Well, we can stop at a restaurant if you like, I don’t mind.” My smile was weak. I pulled the sleeve on my dress down to cover my wrists, and moved my shoulders up a little higher.
I glanced across at him, his eyes were straight ahead, his lips curved skywards. “I won’t suck your blood, Amelia.” He turned to look at me with a cheeky expression. “Unless of course you would like me to?”
Alarm bells rang in my head. “Tooth fairy,” I said.
***
The diner was busy. Soft country music filled the space with its loved-up tunes. There were a few families with rambunctious children eating fries and drinking milkshakes. Their weary looking parents sipped coffee. We ordered and secured a booth by the window.
The thought of food after finding the dog was nauseating.
I looked out the window, the sky was solemn, the clouds threw shadows across the landscape.
Cars flew past, like ants scurrying to a nest. A white sedan pulled into the parking lot, a worn-out mother and her two young kids trundled out.
I was looking to see if we’d been followed, but if we had, I couldn’t pick anything out of place.
I could feel Karson’s gaze lingering on my face. I glanced back, his eyes were warm, making my insides quiver.
“Does what we eat affect how our blood tastes?”
“Yes, it does. So let’s fill you with champagne, shall we?” Light shone in his eyes. He rested his arm along the back of the booth casually.
“You’re not funny.” Though, I wasn’t entirely sure if he was joking or not.
“If I was going to fill your body with champagne.” He glanced around the diner. “Rest assured, it would be a better quality than I could buy here.”
“In future, I’ll just stick to water then, maybe toss in some lemon and garlic.”
He laughed softly. I glanced back out the window as a dark colored SUV pulled in across the road. The windows were tinted so I couldn’t see in. It was silly to think we were being tailed, but the dog had left me cautious.
“What is it?” he asked, as if he sensed my discord.
“Who do you think would do such a thing, and why?” I asked still staring at the SUV. The doors hadn’t opened.
He followed my line of sight and dropped his arm down. “Unless we’re being stalked by an oversized woman with three screaming children, that SUV isn’t a threat.”
“You can see in?”
He nodded. “And in answer to your question. I’m not certain, but I am certain we can keep you safe until we find out who. You have no need for concern.”
Who, or what? Coming to Portland had been so stupid. If I’d just stayed home none of this would’ve happened. I would be perfectly oblivious.
I rested my chin in my hand and sighed. “I’d almost drink that champagne now.”
The smile he gave me was worth my angst. Almost. The waitress, a pencil-thin lady with a mop of bright blonde hair and thick makeup, brought over our order.
I pushed the fries around on my plate. “So, when do we plan our breakup?” I said lightly.
He waited until he’d finished his mouthful to speak. Good table manners at least, I thought wryly. I wondered did his table manners cross over when he drunk people’s blood, would he talk with his mouth full? Then I realised it was ridiculous, if he tried to, the liquid would spray and dribble out.
“The sooner the better, as soon as we know you’re safe.”
I was only a fake girlfriend, but he found even that thought untenable.
“The sooner the better, don’t hold back how you really feel, will you,” I said, with an uncomfortable laugh.
He paused, his eyes broody as he took me in, taking my measure. “Do you have feelings for me, Amelia’”
Caught off guard I choked on nothing. “No. Don’t be silly. I . . . no.” I laughed awkwardly. Aside from wanting to remove his clothing, run my fingers over his entire, gorgeous, body, and fuck him until we both cried out in ecstasy. Thank god he couldn’t read my mind.
“Really, because it almost sounds like you do.”
Cocky ass. “Well, I don’t.” I huffed. He appraised me again. I fidgeted with my ringless finger. Mortification climbed my cheeks.
“So how will we end it, will we say we had a blazing row. Or will it be an ‘it’s not you it’s me’ scenario, or will I catch you in bed with my best friend?” My own words shot a pang through my heart.
He hiked up a brow. “Perhaps we say you were not over your last relationship, Amelia.”
There was a shot in that comment. His words had a bigger impact than I would’ve liked. A lump clogged my throat. I picked a bit of lettuce out of the burger and attempted to lighten the mood.
“Or we say you like to drink my blood and I’m not a fan of it.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew them to be a mistake.
His eyes clouded over, he stopped eating. I stared at him, wide eyed with regret, his response would be unpleasant, and it was a daunting prospect.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Do you always speak before you think?” He wasn’t angry, to my surprise, he seemed more intrigued as to how I could be so stupid as to mention the one sore point between us.
Not one sore point, I corrected myself, one of the sore points.
The blood drinking sore point though, he needed to do to survive, I reminded myself.
I nodded, smiled apologetically. “Yeah, speak and act usually, I’m multi-talented like that.”
A sliver of humor hit his eyes, and then departed as quickly as it appeared. I finished eating the rest of the burger in silence. Karson, I noticed, left most of his on the plate. I took a few gulps of water.
“How’s everything?” The waitress asked, smiling and batting her eyelashes at Karson.
“Very good, thank you,” he said, then glanced at me with a glint in his eye. “Ready, sweetheart?
Sweetheart. “Yes, of course,” I got to my feet.
“It was lovely, thank you.” I smiled at the waitress but it was a waste of time, she wasn’t looking at me.
She collected the plates and walked off, her hips swung with a little more sway on the way back than they’d done on the way over.
Karson popped her a fifty dollar tip on the table on the way out.
I raised my eyebrows. “She must have been thinking some interesting things about you.”
He held out his hands in mock bewilderment. “I just thought she could use the tip.”
I laughed.
In the short time we’d been inside, an orchestra of gray clouds had convened overhead. In the distance were heavy black ones full of soaking rain.
“It’s—” I turned to speak to Karson, but he wasn’t beside me. I twisted my head back. He stalked a few feet behind. Stalked, that seemed about right, the way he moved with graceful, soundless, purposeful steps.
His eyes were pinned on two young men hopping out of a pick-up. Nothing startling about them, average twenty-somethings.
I slowed, biting my lip. Had they followed us here? Both of them looked at me with seedy smirks and I relaxed.
I popped a hand Karson’s arm. He looked like a stone god ready to pass judgement, on the brink of reigning fire on an unsuspecting guilt-ridden society.
“Karson, I don’t think whatever you are thinking is a necessary response,” I murmured.
I felt him stiffen as their eyes met his. My fingernails dug into his arm. The look on his face was enough to deter them. Both men averted their gazes to the ground and walked past without incident.
“Really?” I admonished him once they’d safely passed, relieving him of the pressure of my fingers in his skin. “I don’t think those two are a threat.”
“You did not hear what they said or were thinking.”