Bulletproof (Healer) (4 page)

             
We drive in silence for a while. I think about my dad and Shannon. I hope I won’t be away long. They will phone the police but I know that the authorities don't even have any control where the underground vampires are involved. The secret vampires are far more lethal than those who revealed themselves in the uprising in America two years ago. I think of Bruce and Jana. My adorable siblings. They won’t understand what’s going on. They won’t understand why their daddy’s crying and why I'm not there to kiss them goodnight. 

             
I think about the newspaper clippings in Gabe’s apartment and how he said I intrigued his boss, Maurice. From the outside, it is easy to see why I would evoke curiosity but I am the only person that knows the real Cassie Mueller and I know I’m not special. Maurice, the fervent vampire, will be sorely disappointed when I am nothing but a girl who trips up a lot but never bleeds.

             
Eventually Gabe kills the silence by turning on the radio. As could be predicted, the music blaring from his radio is some kind of concoction of heavy metal and screaming. I want to ask him to turn it down, the grating sound makes my ears hurt. “Helps block out what your feeling,” he says.

             
“What?” I ask.             

             
“Whatever your feeling, don't,” he says, turning down the volume of the music so he can talk clearly. “You need to stop being nervous or scared when you’re with vampires. I find the music helps.”

FOUR

              We are far away from Ayrin when my dad phones. I almost answer it but Gabe scowls at me taking his eyes off the road momentarily which makes me feel edgy. Gabe certainly thinks it’s a bad idea to talk to my dad but I feel sick to think about how worried he’ll be. Would it be better to cut off all contact right now in order to spare myself from probing questions? Where are you? Who are you with? When are you coming home? No news is good news I remind myself and reject the call.

             
I flick through the catalogue of curious vampire stories that I have collected in my mind. But nothing even vaguely matches up with my situation. Everything I’d read was about the vampires in the public eye in America and was easy to access. The names of the famous vampires sit on the tip of my tongue. The baddies. The good guys. I have always known underground vampires existed too but their secrecy and inability to stay in one place makes it much more difficult to keep track.

             
I let dad‘s face dissipate and I look to Gabe. His fingers are gripped tightly around the steering wheel and his strong jaw is locked. I wonder what has made him so angry; I guess working for a secretive, powerful vampire isn‘t much fun. “So Maurice is like your boss?” I ask and Gabe nods. “What’s he like?”

             
Gabe opens his mouth but closes it again and chews at his full lips. I am surprised at how quickly I am caring about this boy. He is arrogant and has, technically, kidnapped me. He has foul habits like drinking and smoking but something about him yanks at my emotions. What would make a young man work for a vampire? In America, many vampires run bars and nightclubs and hire humans but it’s not like that in Scotland. I think people’s lack of empathy of my situation has burdened me even further; I always search for the good in people. It’s a burden because more than often there is no good to be found. But I do not believe that Gabe chose this path for himself. He doesn’t want to be here and I want to know why he is.

             
“He’s exactly what you want him to be,” Gabe says. His vague words set into my skin like a footprint in the sand. Sinking deeper until they have left a clear imprint. “What’s the deal with you anyway?”

             
“What do you mean?”

             
“I don’t know. What’s the story behind Miracle Girl? Constantly getting hurt but not really, eating up all this vampire stuff? I don’t get it,” he shrugs. His pretty face is contorted. 

             
“What’s the deal with you?” I reply rashly. “Working for a vampire, showing up out of the blue with a box full of newspaper clippings about Miracle Girl, eh?” I wince at the mention of the papers’ playful nickname for me.

             
Gabe chuckles slightly and I feel proud I’ve managed to crack his hard exterior, even if only a tiny bit. He desperately wants to dislike me. 

             
“Everyone has something, Gabe,” I say softly, looking at me knees, “I’m just the only one with this thing.” 

             
The car falls silent again but I get the feeling Gabe has an aversion to silence and turns his infernal music back on. He said this music helps to drown out unwanted emotions: fear, anxiety. But it doesn’t seem to be working for Gabe. His face is twisted. The muscles of his brow tightened and his teeth visibly clenched. However I have to agree that this music allows barely any space for thought. 

             
My dad calls again. And again. I watch the screen light up and it makes me feel queasy to imagine how worried he is. My finger trembles over the answer call button but Gabe glares at me, “That’s not a good idea.”

             
“Why not? I can just reassure him that I'll be back soon,” I say but I’m not sure that I can even convince myself of this.

             
“Give it to me,” Gabe holds his hand out, it brushes my arm and I feel a tingle where his skin bumped me. He yawns it away from me, “You’ll say something stupid. He knows you’re going to be okay. You always are, right?” The words are bruising. The idea that I am unbreakable has soothed me to sleep every night when I worry about the next accident but the way Gabe says it, it sounds slanderous like it is a lie I was feeding to everyone and in fact I am more fragile than I let on.

             
I put the phone in his hand and he clenches his long fingers around it. I bite my tongue. I want my dad to know I’m okay even if it goes without saying that I won’t be hurt. He just worries about me so much; this will tip him over the edge. Gabe sighs, “Don’t cry.”

             
“I’m not going to,” I bark. I wasn’t going to but now he’s said it, tears sting my eyes. This is what I want. I want to meet a vampire. I need this. For once I can walk the tightrope and have the fear of falling. “Where are we going then?”

             
“Maurice has a home in France. We’ll go there,” he speaks so nonchalantly about travelling to France as if it’s a quick journey to the local supermarket. I have never left Scotland and even then I haven’t seen much of my own country. Ayrin has encased me in a claustrophobic bubble that I'm eager to burst. He speaks so lightly about travelling the world; I wonder what sights he has seen. “But I can’t be sure where he is until night time. I’ll phone him then but first we have to meet Rose.”

             
“Who’s Rose?” my mood picks up with the mention of a new name, allowing myself to drift back into the excitement. Leaving wearying thoughts of dad, Shannon, Bruce and Jana behind. 

             
“She works for Maurice too,” he says. 

             
“Like you?”

             
“No. Rose is higher up in Maurice’s staff,” Gabe speaks with resentment. If there is a hierarchy to Maurice’s human assistants, is he at the bottom of the pyramid? Does this explain his anguish? “She’ll know what to do with you…”

             
He makes it sound like I am a package. Wrapped up in unsightly, brown paper. Thrown about, stamped on and with an illegible address scrawled on the front. A package that he holds in his hands as if it contains a ticking bomb. But I am a valuable package that Maurice wants delivered personally so he can't risk losing it.

             
“Where is Rose?” I ask but wish I hadn’t. Gabe snaps and tells me to stop asking so many questions and just be quiet. He puts his music up so loud that it becomes white noise in my ears. 

             
The sky is dusky when we pull into an estate filled with red-brick cookie cutter houses. I had almost managed to dull out the angry screaming of Gabe’s music to fall asleep when the car cuts out and the music stops completely. Leaving us with a dead silence. 

             
“You can talk again,” Gabe says clicking his seatbelt and getting out of the car. I don’t know why I expect him to open my door for me but it feels appropriate to hesitate. I don’t know the protocol for escorting important human cargo for a vampire but I’m sure Maurice wouldn’t be pleased with Gabe’s manners, or lack thereof, towards me. If anything at least vampires are polite.

             
Standing at the door of the house we are parked outside stands a beautiful woman in a red dress. She must be in her mid-twenties and has chocolate brown hair that tumbles down to her waist. Her skin is dark and sumptuous and completely flawless. Her lips are painted a wild shade of red. She is exactly how I picture the women that keep company with vampires. Her face bursts into a wide smile, showing shiny white teeth, when she sees Gabe and I. 

             
She walks towards me and grabs one of my hands with both of hers. Her skin is soft and I feel embarrassed by how clammy my palms are. The car was too warm. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Cassie,” she says and plants her big red lips on my cheek. I’m not used to intimacy with a stranger and I feel my cheeks heat up with embarrassment. 

             
“Gabriel Greenall. Long time, no see,” Rose repeats the gesture with Gabe who returns it with a kiss on her cheek. So he shows manners now. I wonder if Gabe likes Rose. He is certainly smiling a lot more around her and she is extremely beautiful; I can’t think of a reason why any man would turn her away. “Come in.”

             
Inside the house is modern and meticulously decorated. An extension of Rose’s beauty. She ushers us into the lounge area which is all white except for the black television and the coral red pillows on the white leather couch. It is so pleasing to look at that I feel like it doesn’t serve its purpose as a lounge; I could not relax in here. “Do you want anything to drink?” Rose asks. This makes me aware of how parched I am. I haven’t eaten or drank since I left the house this morning. 

             
“Yes please,” I say in a meek voice. I am not usually intimidated by other girls. My lack of socialising has not hindered me so much that I cannot hold my own but Rose is different from the girls in my classes at school. She is everything I could dream to be. Beautiful, evidently successful, warm and friendly, and spends her life fraternising with vampires. 

             
Gabe sits awkwardly beside me on the white couch like he is uncomfortable in his body. I am aware of his entire stance: his hunched shoulders, his folded arms, his closed mind. 

             
Rose gets me water and a toasted sandwich. The water is served in a fancy blue crystal bottle and the sandwich tasted heavenly in my mouth. The hot crunch of the toast, the cheese melting on my tongue. And she’s a good cook too. Add that to my list of reasons to be envious of this woman I’ve just met. “Have you spoken to Maurice yet?” Rose asks, opening and pouring a can of beer into a glass for Gabe.

             
Gabe shakes his head, “No, I only found her today.” 

             
“He’ll be pleased,” Rose smiles, sipping genteelly at tea which fills the room with a sweet, strawberry scent.  “He’s been waiting such a long time.”

             
“You don’t think I know that, Rosie? He’s been on my back every night for the past six months. He dropped in last week to check up on me. I just wanted to be sure, you know?”

             
“I understand, Gabe,” Rose tilts her head sympathetically and there is nothing insincere about the concerned expression on her face. “You were just waiting for the right time.”             

             
I don’t like the way they speak of me like my presence has been overlooked. I pretend to choke lightly on my food just to break their conversation up. They give me a quick glance as if I’m a fly buzzing around that is infuriating but easily ignored. 

             
“Do you know where he is?” Gabe asks. His thick eyebrows knitting together. 

             
Rose purses her lips. They curve so flawlessly, a perfect cupids bow  stained the most vivid red - it is hard to believe they belong to a real person and not a painting. She shakes her head and I feel like they are having a conversation I can’t hear. “He was travelling through Spain last I heard.” 

             
As if he has just remembered I am still here, Gabe turns to look at me and says, “It’s difficult for vampires to travel because they are restricted to the night.” In America, hostels specifically designed for vampires have been set up for when they need to rest during the day but are too far away from their own home. Vampires in Europe don’t have this luxury and I guess this means they either have to make a lot of friends, or enough people who are intimidated by them, to get a place to stay when the sun is out or give up travelling. I am struck with pity for these ominous creatures who can’t enjoy the pleasantries that daylight brings: sipping a cold Diet Coke in the garden or even the cosy feeling watching a ray of sunlight reflect off the first snowfall in Winter from your bedroom window.