Forbidden Touch (10 page)

Mitch was sitting in the driver's seat when she came back around the corner. She got in on the passenger side, handed him a coke, and lifted the lid of the cardboard box. "I have come to realize all of your eating habits in the last few weeks."

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. He smiled as he opened his eyes then took the piece she offered. He sighed with uncontained pleasure when he took the first bite. "Hunt's Brothers?" he mumbled, around the food in his mouth.

She flipped the box closed so he could see the little man on the front of the box. Hunt's Brothers was written above his head.

"I miss the food in Arkansas. I usually only eat what can be delivered to me in Decatur," he said as he backed out, then pulled out of the parking lot onto the road.

Her brow furrowed slightly. "You visit here much?"

He smiled as he looked over at her. "I'm from here. This is where I grew up. My mother's house is only a couple hours from here."

She looked at him with concern. "Mitch, it will be best not to involve your mother in all of this. They will kill her to bring you out of hiding."

He shook his head, and his features turned dark in the dim lighting of the interior of the car. "It isn't possible for anyone to hurt her. She died a year and a half ago. The house is mine now. I haven't been in it since before she died. I send a friend of hers a check every month to make sure it's kept up, and to keep the damn kids out of it. We lived in the nicer part of town, but when teenagers or crack heads catch wind that a fully furnished house is vacant, for some reason they think it's their new playground."

She squeezed his hand, lightly. "I'm sorry, Mitch. I didn't know. What of your father?"

"I don't have one," he said shortly.

It was clear he didn't want to talk anymore on that subject, so she changed it. "So, I guess you know these roads pretty well?"

He nodded. "I even know where there are a few psychic reading places here. I don't know if they are legit, or even if they are what you are looking for, but we can try them out and see."

Ciera clapped her hands happily, then took a slice of pizza from the box and bit the tip off the slice of pizza pie.

He looked at her aghast, and she managed to smirk as she chewed. She knew what he was thinking. "Don't believe everything you see in the movies, Mitch. I can eat, and I don't sleep in a coffin."

"Wooden stakes, holy water, garlic, sunlight, crucifixes?"

"Are you planning to kill me or something?" she laughed. "The sunlight, when I am visible, can kill me. I'm the only one of my kind, that I'm aware of, that can lose visibility and walk in the sun. I was very useful to my people. As for the other things you mentioned, the answer is no. A wooden stake through my heart wouldn't do anything but piss me off. Although, if you could manage to crush my heart or rip it out of my body, that would get the job done. I don't like garlic, but that isn't because I'm a vampire. The next time you order us Italian, order cheese bread instead of garlic bread, please."

His eyes narrowed. "I thought my leftovers had been smaller in the last month. You little sneak. I thought I was eating more. What about crosses, churches and blessed ground like cemeteries?"

Ciera reached down the front of her shirt and pulled out a dainty gold chain. On it dangled a diamond cross. "I wear it everywhere I go. I'm not evil, Mitch; I still believe in God. I pray every day."

His eyes widened in amazement. "What about…uh..."

"Blood?" she said, and looked away from him. "I have to have blood. More so if I have used a lot of energy. Staying invisible uses my energy." She looked at the sky. That sun would peak its head over that small mountain in a matter of seconds. "And that's my cue. You'll see me again when the sun sets." Her body disappeared before his eyes, but not before she winked at him.

"No, I'm going to see you before then."

"What, close your eyes and get a mental picture of me? You'd better keep your eyes open and on the road. I'm the only immortal in the vehicle," she said, and snickered.

"That wasn't what I was referring to. We're going to my mother's house. She has a basement." He paused for a moment, and then said a little lower, "I have a basement. There are no windows, and that used to be my bedroom before I moved out. My bed and everything is still down there. Do you sleep?"

She nodded, but then realized he couldn't see her. "I can go two or three days without sleep, but I didn't sleep last night. I'm getting tired, and I can't stay invisible when I'm asleep, so that's probably a good idea. Will you be all right going back in that house?"

"I've been thinking of doing it for some time now. I have to do it sooner or later. No better time than the present." He paused again. "Do you need…"

"Blood?" He was having a real problem with that word. Actually, she noticed that he was having a problem saying any words that related to what she was. "I need it, but I'll be fine awhile longer."

"Do you have to turn people into…what you are?" he said, and cleared his throat nervously. "Or kill people when you ah…"

"Feed? No, and no. My body only requires about a half a pint every few days, but I have to have it, or I will be in severe pain…then I'll die. I witnessed it happen to a few of my close friends over my lifetime. They were tired of being what we are. They wanted to die. Some of my people choose to go out in the sun and end it quickly. That way only takes a few minutes at most, but my friends thought they needed to die slow and painfully because of the wrongs they'd done in their lives. They considered it their punishment."

"So… how long has it been since you… fed?"

She clapped her hands, and it startled him. "I'm so proud of you, Mitch. You said it! Say vampire."

"Huh?" he said then looked at the passenger seat. He chuckled. She must have caught on that he was having a trouble coping with her situation. "Vampire," he said with a smile, then looked back to the road. He came to a stop sign and turned southwest.

"Good," she said energetically. "Now, say blood, feed and fangs. Say it quickly so you don't chicken out."

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Blood, feed and fangs." He paused. "Do you really have fangs?"

"Razor sharp ones," she said a little spookily, and he laughed. "It has been a few days," she said, and uncomfortably cleared her own throat.

He looked over to the empty seat. He could hear her, but he couldn't see her. He needed to see her soon. He sped up a little. Not enough to get pulled over, but enough to get them to his house faster. He grabbed another slice of pizza, and got a little freaked when a slice hovered out of the box on its own, raised higher, and then the tip of it disappeared.

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Chapter 1
5

Mitch pulled into his driveway at 7:45 a.m. He'd left the house in his mom's name, and there wasn't anything in his thin file at work that would lead the cops here, so he felt safe in staying here for a while if they needed to. Of course, if they did a little research, they would know his whole life's story, and probably how many times he took a piss in a day with the information they could get hold of.

Most everyone was still asleep on this fine crisp Saturday morning, so he didn't have to worry about a lot of people seeing him.

"Stay here. I'll be back," he said, then jumped out of the car and ran to the flower garden where he always hid his hide-a-key. It was still there, shaped like a dark-gray rock. You could only tell that it was plastic if you picked it up.
Gotta love those hide-a-key makers.

He took the key out of the little compartment in the bottom and let himself inside. He froze like he'd run into a brick wall going ninety. His head filled with anxiety, and he was having trouble finding enough air to fill his lungs. He braced himself against the wall that led into the living room. He couldn't freak out now. He had to be clear-headed so he could think, but all his head was thinking now, was to shout out "Mom?" like he had every time he walked through that damn door. He made himself walk, and he struggled to the door that led into the garage. He threw it open and hit the button to raise the garage door on the far side.

As the rising door let in light, he spotted the black Chevrolet Tahoe. It was his mother's. It had been his mother's, and now…and now it was his. He had to face reality sometime. She wasn't coming back. Her body was decaying six feet under, only five miles from here. He took several deep breaths, and then the stolen car came into view. It looked as though it was driving itself, but he knew different. He shook his head to pull himself together, then hit the button to close the garage door when the car was put in park and the driver door opened, then closed. He knew he was still having trouble taking all of this in, but it would get easier with time, he hoped.

"Aren't you going to invite me in, Mitch?" Ciera's voice said, sounding amused.

His eyes grew wide. "Do you really have to be invited into a house before you can enter?"

"No, but you are standing in the doorway, blocking the entrance."

"Oh," he smiled shyly, and then backed out of the way so she could join him inside. "I'm sorry."

She looked at him a little closer. He was as white as a ghost. "Are you all right?"

He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. "Yeah…I will be. It's just…"

"This house?" she finished for him.

"Yeah…but I'll be all right." He walked to the edge of the kitchen and opened a door. Stairs led down to complete dark silence. A cool draft wafted up from the black beneath them. He flipped the light switch just inside, and the stairway was suddenly illuminated. He motioned with his hand for her to go ahead of him. "After you, my dear. Muahahaha," he said spookily.

"This is like a really scary movie, where the monster is going to wait for us to get to the bottom, then grab us," she giggled. "If I wasn't the monster, I might be a little frightened."

He felt her brush by him and he grabbed her, pulling her firmly against his body. His hands ran up her arms to frame her face. His lips found hers with the first attempt. He only kissed her briefly, and then pulled back. "I'll protect you."

"I believe you would try," she breathed.

He smiled. "I'm not fooling myself in thinking I can. I know you are about a hundred times stronger than I am, and it's a real hard punch to my ego, but yes, I would try."

"I know you would, Mitch, but promise me that you won't."

He stepped back a little, but he still had a hold of her face. Of course he would try to protect her, why wouldn't he? The joke had suddenly turned serious, and he knew they weren't talking about any big, hairy monster in his mother's basement. "Wh…"

Her invisible hand covered his mouth. "You can't win against them if they find us. Don't for one instant think you can. Some of the Elders only have to look at a mortal to kill them if they want them dead. Promise me that you will not try to protect me. If I say run, do what I say. Don't let your pride get in the way. Please." She waited a moment but he didn't respond. "Promise me, damn it!" There were tears in her voice.

He sighed and pulled her to him in a tight hug. "Can we worry about that if, and when, it happens?"

She pushed him back against the sheetrock that made up the walls going down the stairs, then pulled the door shut with a loud bang. There was no light coming from under the door. She made herself visible and Mitch could tell that she was indeed crying, and she was clearly angry with him. "I know what you're doing. I've been around you long enough to realize that you don't lie. You would gladly hurt somebody's feelings rather than lie to them. And right now you are avoiding promising me something because you know you will be lying." She was crying heavily now. "Promise me, please," she pleaded loudly, then lowered her voice. "Please, Mitch, promise me that you'll try to get away and hide. There is no reason for both of us to die, when there is a chance that you can live."

He looked away from her. He couldn't lie to her, and he wasn't going to run away like a coward and let them kill her without at least trying to save her. He would be nothing without her, so he didn't have a reason for living if they killed her. "I can't, Ciera. I'm sorry."

She sat down on the top step and put her face in her hands and cried. He sighed, then picked her up in his arms. She couldn't possibly weigh anymore than a hundred and twenty pounds, tops. It was physically impossible for her to be as strong as she was. She had picked him up and ran with him like he weighed no more than a feather. Mitch walked down the steps with her in his arms, and without turning on the downstairs light, he carried her to the bed and laid her down. The only light came from the top of the stairs. He knew where everything was in the room, but if he turned it out he wouldn't be able to see a damn thing, and he wanted to see her. He didn't feel like he could look at her enough.