Stakes & Stilettos - Michelle Rowen [43]
“Good morning,” I croaked.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Better.”
“That’s very good to hear. We’ll have to keep a very close eye on any unusual behavior, Sarah. And we must find the witch you spoke with last night. I’ve already made several calls to find out her location.”
I cleared my throat. “I don’t want to see her again. She might turn me into a toad next time.”
He didn’t smile at that. His cell phone rang and he pulled it out of his jacket pocket. “We must leave shortly. I’ll give you some privacy to dress.”
He opened the door and went outside the motel room to take the call.
I lay there for another minute and stared up at the ceiling mirror that reflected only a messy bed with an indentation where I lay. Then I forced myself to get up, have a quick shower, pull my hair back into a short ponytail, get dressed, and shove my used clothes into my overnight bag. Then I sat on the side of the bed and tried not to think of much of anything, but that didn’t work out too well.
I was fine. I felt fine. Nothing was wrong. The sooner we got out of there and got back to life as usual, the better. I could put this unfortunate little trip out of my mind forever.
Two necks bitten. That would be it. Finito. The end.
Stacy must be some strange witch. What kind of a stupid spell was that, anyhow?
Being turned into a toad would have been so much worse.
My inner pep talk was working, and when Thierry re-entered the room I was ready to go. I was even smiling a little.
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad to see that you are looking well.”
“I am. Look, I know what happened last night was really strange. I’m sorry. I promise it won’t happen again.”
He studied me for a moment. “I don’t blame you. You weren’t yourself.”
No, that was very true. If I’d been myself I would have been all awkward and apologetic instead of sultry and seductive. So not me. There was a small part of me that wished I could be more confident like that all the time, but if it came with an uncontrollable thirst for blood, then I’d have to pass.
Maybe I’d look at this situation as a good opportunity to be thankful for what I already had. I was always looking for a way out, a way to be what I used to be, aka normal and human. I had never really appreciated that being a vampire fledgling wasn’t all that bad. Except for the hunters, of course.
Thierry took my overnight bag from me and held open the door. I slid my sunglasses on and, with a smile as optimistic as I could manage, walked outside—
—into the blazing hot core of hell.
I screamed and held my hands up to shield my face. The glare from the sun wasn’t just a glare, it was a burning agony that seemed to be trying to fry my brain. My vision went white and spotty and I felt a searing pain on my hands. I’d never felt anything so hot in my entire life.
Thierry grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled me back inside the room and shut the door. The pain eased immediately. I was actually panting when I looked at him. I didn’t like the expression on his face.
My hands looked as if I’d been at the beach all day covered in vegetable oil. Bright pink. Smoke rose off the surface of my skin in wispy curls.
“Your eyes are black,” Thierry said.
“Oh, my God.” I scrambled to pick up my sunglasses from where they’d fallen on the floor and I put them back on. I stilled myself and concentrated. Did I feel like biting him? No. But my eyes were black?
I almost got my ass completely fried by the sun. By sunlight.
But sunlight didn’t bother me. Not much, anyhow. Sure, I was a little more sensitive to it and it made me feel like taking a nap after being out in it for too long. But this? This wasn’t right. To say the very least.
If I’d been out there any longer I had no doubt that it would have killed me.
“Wh… what’s a nightwalker?” I asked him.
“Pardon me?”
“Stacy… she mentioned something in passing last night. I didn’t even pay any attention to it. But she asked me if I knew what a nightwalker was. She said I should ask you.”
He hesitated. “A nightwalker is a type of vampire that existed a long time ago.