Chapter 25
River
Carrying Laurie over my shoulder might have been a step too far, but her aura had been going haywire and she looked just about ready to explode. I had to get her out of there somehow, and over my shoulder like a particularly feisty rag doll was the quickest way to do that.
Now she simmered in stony silence in the passenger seat of my car, and I kept one eye on her while I drove.
Her back was stiff, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.
When she looked my way I offered a tentative smile, but all that got me was an eye roll before she returned her gaze to the window. Oh, she’s pissed.
I fixed my eyes on the road. Fiddled with the radio. Tapped out a tune on the steering wheel.
Then I stole another glance her way. “Sooo… nice weather we’re hav—”
“We should have stayed.” Laurie’s head snapped back to sneer at me, halting my sorry attempt at small talk. She folded her arms tighter, thrusting back against the seat with a disgruntled sigh. “I was fine—I am fine. I could’ve handled that.”
“Laurie, the hybrids aren’t going anywhere.
” I turned back to the road, mentally working to keep her aura under wraps.
It had calmed ever so slightly since I’d carried her out of the hall, but the turmoil was still there, writhing under the surface.
“You’ll be no use to anyone if you push yourself to an early burnout. ”
Laurie scoffed at that last part and slid her gaze back to the window, furrowed brow wrinkled low over stormy eyes. She didn’t look at all interested in a pep talk, but I was on a roll now and decided to say my piece.
“Actually, on that note.” I hit the brakes a little too hard at the stop light and Laurie scowled at me when the motion jolted her forward. She muttered something unintelligible, but I spoke over her grumbling. “You can’t just keep diving headfirst into dangerous situations without a plan.”
“I make plans!” Laurie’s protest was delivered with an indignant slam of her fist against the dashboard.
“Really?” I hit the gas pedal when the light turned green and glanced at her. “What was your plan back there exactly? You got your fists out—were you just gonna start swinging on that woman until she changed her statement?”
“No.” Laurie huffed back into her seat and looked away again.
“And back at the warehouse, you went straight ahead and scoped the place out when I specifically told you to stay away and let me handle it.”
At that, Laurie’s mouth dropped open in a gape and she rounded on me. “Excuse me, I’m the reason you got out of there alive!”
“Yeah, and I appreciate that—but that’s exactly what I’m talking about.” I knew I was probably taking it too far. No doubt Laurie was already fully aware of her reckless behavior. But even so, it was something she needed to hear.
I kept my eyes on the road, waving one hand around while I spoke. “I’m a vampire, I can take care of myself. You don’t need to go sticking your neck out for me. You’ve got to put yourself first sometimes.”
When I threw another glance her way, something I couldn’t decipher rippled across Laurie’s features. She opened her mouth, closed it again, and sat back with a resigned sigh like the idea of putting herself first was simply unthinkable.
Maybe I overstepped.
After what I’d heard from her conversation with Mary, I had decided to rethink my approach to making her feel comfortable.
She’d lost something precious—she’d lost a child.
The revelation still had me reeling. It was a puzzle piece that fit too perfectly amongst her nightmares, her reckless actions, and her thorns.
I could see now that she’d built plenty of walls to protect herself from the pain that loss had caused. I couldn’t go kicking them down in one conversation. I couldn’t ask her to prioritize herself when her single-minded mission was the only thing protecting her from a tidal wave of grief.
“I’m sorry, I’m not trying to tell you how to live your life.
I just…” I mulled over the words, searching for the best approach to the situation that wouldn’t get her overly defensive.
“I just think you should be a little more careful. This organization is dangerous—we both know that—and I know you want to take them down more than anything, but…”
I looked over at her, waiting in vain for her to meet my eye. “Think about your future. You’ve got a life to live once all of this is over. You have to make it there in one piece.”
Silence. She kept her head turned away, her eyes fixed on the sidewalk streaming past outside. She was quiet so long I assumed the conversation had ended.
Then she spoke again, and her words were brittle, crackling like dead leaves underfoot. “I have no future—there is no life for me when all of this is over.” A deep exhale from heavy lungs. “This is it.”
My mouth went dry and a distinct sense of unease curdled in my stomach. “What do you mean?”
Laurie didn’t answer. Her stare drifted to nothing, eyes locked on some distant point beyond the window.
I pressed my lips together, apprehension flaring in my gut. I wanted to reach out, pull her into my arms and demand to know what was going on in her head, but she’d retreated too far into herself for me to even glean anything from her aura.
So I eased off the accelerator and we coasted along in silence. I didn’t press further—not now. But the unease remained, a writhing knot of tension in my stomach. I watched her from the corner of my eye.
Something wasn’t right here. And I reasoned it would be best to keep a very close eye on Laurie moving forward.
We arrived at the Museum of Modern Art just as the sky ignited in a fiery sunset, and I was beginning to question my grand plan. I wasn’t sure if Laurie was going to enjoy herself or coil even tighter into her little defensive bubble, but it was too late to turn back now.
I climbed out first, then rounded the car to open Laurie’s door and offered her my hand. She gave me a skeptical look, suspicious as ever, but she took my hand tentatively and let me steer her up the broad stone steps.
“I should warn you,” she muttered, eyeing the building with quiet distaste, “I’m not one for wandering through art exhibits. I don’t know Da Vinci from Picasso and I don’t particularly care to, either.”
“Relaaax.” I threw my head back and gave her hand a squeeze. “We’re not here to ogle the artworks. And besides, this is the museum of modern art. Da Vinci was high renaissance.”
“Uh-huh.” Laurie deadpanned beside me, but she let me drag her along all the same.
Rather than head for the main entrance we veered off to the side, stepping through a set of glass doors. The crowd here was sparse, with only one or two stragglers shuffling in behind us.
When she saw the dark hallway stretching out before us, Laurie’s brows shot up and she slowed to a stop. “River, what are we doing here?”
“Just trust me.” I nudged her shoulder, edging toward the bend at the end of the corridor.
Laurie stalled for a moment longer, then gave in and let me tug her along, grumbling to herself all the while. We turned the corner and stepped into darkness. To me and my vampiric eyesight, the room was perfectly visible, but Laurie all but stumbled over her own feet.
She gripped my hand tighter, fingers digging into my skin in sudden distress, then hid her anxiety under another quip. “Ah yes—the void. Truly a masterpiece.”
I let her snark slide and smiled. “Patience.”
She gave me a scornful scoff in response.
Then the lights flicked on and the rain began.
It fell soft at first, then erupted in a steady rush. Water poured from hidden nozzles overhead, drumming a gentle rhythm on the black floor. The entire space was cloaked in deep charcoal, walls and ceiling swallowing stray light until all we could see were the silvery ribbons of water.
And the sound—the distinct hush of droplets pattering down around us in soft applause.
I glanced down at Laurie. Her jaw had dropped open, and she drank it all in with wide, astounded eyes.
“Take a step forward.” I tugged at her hand, urging her into the indoor rainstorm.
She shot me an incredulous look and shook her head. “Uh—I’m not trying to get wet right now, thank you.”
“God, remove the stick from your ass and just try it.” I gestured for her to get a move on and Laurie gave me a scowl—but it was quickly replaced by plain awe when she took a tentative step out into the rainfall.
The rain parted neatly around her like a curtain, splashing everywhere but on her clothes.
“How–?” Her other foot followed, and this time she yanked my hand, eager to inch deeper into the stream. I watched her expression shift from suspicion to delight as droplets danced around her boots.
We walked to the center of the room and the rain poured down around us, though we stayed perfectly dry.
“That’s the beauty of the exhibit.” I chuckled, sticking out a palm and swinging it around, catching not a single drop of water.
Laurie lifted her face, pale light catching on the lines of her cheekbones. Her aura softened to a calm mist, a hazy fog rather than a rolling storm. She released my hand, spread her arms, and spun around in a slow circle. Completely entranced.
I watched her twirl, something warm like molten lava funneling through my veins at the sight. “Last night, you said you liked the sound of rain.”
Laurie paused mid-turn and looked at me, stricken expression softened by the sheet of rain between us. “I did?”
“Yeah, you were half-asleep by then, but I thought—maybe… you’d like this.” I looked down, watching droplets bounce and splatter around the grates under our feet. “I couldn’t exactly get the sky to do my bidding, so this was the next best thing.”
When I looked up, Laurie was still staring at me, her gaze searching. She was looking for the catch, for a motive behind such a personal gesture.
I stared back, trying my best to convey everything I wanted to say with my eyes alone. To explain what I couldn’t even fully understand myself. I’m here. I’m here with you. You don’t have to face everything alone.
I meant it, every unspoken word.
This woman I barely knew had wandered into my life, and now I couldn’t picture it without her. The future was murky, hidden from view, and Laurie herself was still riddled with mysteries—but I wanted to stick it out, to walk this obscure path with her. Wherever it may lead.
Whether she read that in my eyes or not I couldn’t know for sure, but Laurie relaxed slightly. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, listening to the rain hail down around us. A solitary silhouette in the storm.
Her next words were a soft murmur, but delivered with the faintest smile. “It’s perfect.”