21. Rune
Rune
It takes me two tries to lock the door, then I cross the dozen feet in front of my building to the other door.
The key trembles in my grip, making a scraping sound against the lock as I insert it.
I inhale a breath that doesn’t smell like ozone, and when I feel steadier, I turn the key and step into The Gallery.
I try to block out whatever just happened as I go through the motions of opening the little shop for the day.
I really try to forget about the massive vampire in my bathroom mirror.
Try to repress the memory of the heat of his palm against mine. And the way his voice danced over my skin.
I try as hard as I can to ignore the heat simmering in my veins.
A heat that’s no longer content to linger in my core, driving me mad with desire. No. That wasn’t enough. Now it’s everywhere.
I pull the string to draw the blinds open on the large picture window looking out at the street, but I pull it a little too hard. And the blinds fly up, startling a woman walking past on the sidewalk.
She jolts as her head snaps over to look at the window.
Then she jolts again when she notices me standing there.
I lift a hand.
She hurries away.
Running this store is part of my monthly rental agreement, but thankfully, the deal is for me to open and occupy the store. No part of the contract mentions a certain number of actual sales.
I watch until the woman disappears out of view, in her jeans, turtleneck sweater, and open rain jacket.
The day is dull. Overcast. Cold and damp. A dozen degrees away from the potential rain turning into snow.
And I’m in a pair of navy-blue shorts and a white tank top so thin it shows the color of my pink bra beneath it.
I have a pale blue cardigan tied around my waist, just in case, but no real intentions of wearing it.
And I’m just waiting for my hair to air dry, then I’m putting it up to get it off my neck.
I look down at my left wrist and the nine colorful bracelets I have on.
Reaching across my body, I drag my finger over the one farthest up my forearm. The first one I put on.
The onyx beads are perfectly round. Perfectly smooth.
I’ve hardly worn the bracelet since I purchased it last summer. Black isn’t usually my thing, but there was just something that told me I needed it.
As my finger bumps from one bead to the next, I think about my vampire’s eyes.
I’ve seen pictures. Of course I have. So even though I’ve never met a vampire in person, I know what their eyes look like.
Except in photos, I’ve never paid attention to where they were looking. And thinking back, I’m not sure if I could even tell.
But today… He…
I could feel him looking at me.
I could feel where his eyes were focused.
My skin tingles, like he’s looking at me now.
I drop my hands to my sides.
People have known about vampires since before my parents were born. Alts mostly keep to themselves, but since they basically live forever and they’re rarer than humans, they’re practically famous. So, their faces are recognizable.
But I don’t recognize the vampire from the mirror.
The man from the cave.
And he’s not a kid. He’s a man. An attractive man. I feel like I would’ve seen him before.
I mean, sure, there are probably many vampires in existence that I wouldn’t recognize. But something just feels different about this one.
He feels… like a secret.
Like maybe no one has seen him before.
A man approaches on the sidewalk, stirring me from my thoughts.
As he passes the window, he glances over and startles so violently that coffee spills out of his travel cup, over his fingers.
Once he’s past, I lift my hands. “What the hells?”
I know I didn’t sleep well last night. And I might be a little on edge. But I don’t think I look that scary.
Huffing, I turn back to face the small art gallery.
The dark gallery. Because I forgot to turn the lights on.
Okay, maybe I do look a little creepy standing inside a dark shop.
As I cross back to the wall with the light switches, I glance around.
It’s weird because I can tell it’s dark. I can see that no lights are on. The dreary day means the window at the front isn’t letting in much light at all. But… I can still see just fine.
I can make out the details on the paintings on the wall.
I can tell which sculpture is which on the displays in the middle of the room.
I didn’t bump into a single thing earlier.
It’s like yesterday. In that cave. When it should’ve been impossible for me to see.
But that didn’t actually happen.
My right hand reaches across to touch my bracelets.
It didn’t happen. Except my clothes on the floor were still damp this morning. And the vampire in my mirror was wearing my missing rainbow-colored heart bracelet.
Reaching out, I flip the lights on.
I blink twice, letting my eyes adjust. Then I make my way to the desk in the back corner.
The chair creaks as I drop onto it, and the drawer squeaks as I pull it open.
The desk is filled with random things for the store. Like scissors, tissue paper, tape, and the tablet for taking payments. As well as my unauthorized tiny vases that I’ve been selling on the side.
I pull out the tablet and my tray of tiny vases, then close the drawer.
Setting the tray on the corner of the desk, I straighten the cardboard sign that labels my dandelion vases as seven dollars.
I’ve actually sold quite a few since I started here, nothing to live off, but they’ve paid for a few lattes.
They were just a fun little side project I did when I lived at my last place, since my neighbor was an older woman who taught pottery in her basement. But since I no longer have access to her kiln, these are the last of them.
I push the red one closer to the front, wondering if I should try to find a community studio to make more. Or something totally different.
What would my vampire like?
Shaking my head, I push that thought out of my mind.
The I’m-going-insane vampire from my bathroom mirror doesn’t want a clay trinket.
I take a deep breath.
Focus on reality, Rune.
Reality reminds me that I should go back upstairs to get my laptop. So I can log in to my freelance job and do a transcript or two to earn some money. But I don’t really feel like going back into my potentially cursed apartment, so I pick up the tablet instead.
As I press the button to turn it on, the black screen reflects my furrowed expression.
I start to relax my features, then lurch forward, my heart thudding.
Are my eyes black?
The screen flashes to life, my reflection disappearing with the light, but…
Pressure builds in my chest.
My eyes are not black. I’m not turning into a vampire. I’m not Nix. I’m—
The tablet slips from my grip, thumping onto the desk.
I shake my head.
I’m not a vampire’s mate.
I can’t be.
Heat smolders beneath my skin.
A weight sits heavy inside my rib cage.
My pulse slows. Even though my emotions have not.
My heart beats with another’s.
I breathe.
As my heart tries to race.
But it doesn’t.
Can’t.
With trembling hands, I pick up the tablet, open the internet, and start to read every article I can find on Nix Novak.
“It won’t hurt.”
I press my lips together and glance toward my bed.
The bracelets from my parents are either on my wrist or in my bowl of bracelets, but the box they came in is under my bed. Hiding.
I shake my head and look back down at my hands. I don’t need to recreate every tiny detail.
Blowing out a breath, I set the box cutter on the table, go to my freezer, and take out one ice cube.
I’ve already washed my hands three times. Already washed the box cutter. But the anticipation of pain is making me freak out. So I press the pad of my thumb to the frozen cube.
The rest of my shift in the shop today was dead, so I did a lot of reading. But I didn’t come across anything new. And the more I searched, the more I accepted that there aren’t any details on what Nix may or may not have noticed in the days leading up to finding out she was Volik’s mate.
Maybe there were no signs.
Maybe I’m truly just losing my mind.
Skin pricking, I drop the ice cube into the sink, walk back to the table, pick up the box cutter, and press the corner of the sharp blade to the slightly numbed flesh of my thumb.
As soon as the skin breaks, I drop the cutter onto the table and watch a small bead of blood form at the tiny cut.
With my hands trembling, I lift my thumb to my mouth. Close my lips. Close my eyes. Swallow. And…
I open my eyes.
Still in my apartment.
The person behind the checkout desk lifts their brows as I walk past into the library.
Yeah, I know. It’s chilly outside. And I’m still in my same outfit from earlier, cardigan still around my waist.
I shrug, adjusting my backpack, and look around.
I haven’t been to this local library before, but I need to be somewhere other than my apartment right now. So I stuffed my laptop into my backpack and hustled to the closest bus stop.
The open area with tables for studying is mostly filled with groups of students, so I turn toward the back wall, where I spot a row of empty comfy chairs.
My eyes already feel sore from how much reading I’ve done today, but my plan for the evening is different. I’m moving on to photos. And I remembered my glasses.
I pull my backpack off and settle into the chair at the end of the row.
This all feels… crazy.
All of it.
The birthday mountain adventure. The weird sexual awakening. The heat. The heaviness. The way I can possibly see in the dark.
Talking to a vampire in my mirror. Feeling the heat of his hand through said mirror.
It’s all crazy.
It’s all so nearly impossible to comprehend.
Nearly.
Because my clothes were wet.
My bracelet is missing.
My body is suddenly immune to the cold.
And he feels so incredibly real.
So real that every time I try to convince myself it’s all in my imagination, I feel the urge to cry.
So I’m going to find him.
I’m going to find proof of who he is. And I’m going to find him. And maybe I’m his mate. Or maybe he’ll shove me away. Or maybe I’m turning into some unknown type of Alt who sees the future. Or the past. Or I don’t fucking know. I just need to find him!