Kissed By Moonlight (27 page)

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Authors: Lucy Lambert

BOOK: Kissed By Moonlight
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"Vick..." I said, whispering through my teeth.

I looked up at the lights as I tried to remain as still as possible. Turn off, damn it,
turn off!

"What's wrong? Are you in trouble?"

"Vick, listen, I'm in the men's bathroom on the fourth floor of the student center. There's a cop looking for me. I think he's coming this way right now. He's going to find me."

Only silence came through from the other end of the line for a few moments.

"Stay right there, try to not make any noise. I'm coming to get you," Vick said.

The boots squeaked again. The cop had just come around the corner.

"Hurry..." I said, nudging the end call button with my chin.

 

Chapter 40

 

How long would he take? It was a dumb question, but one I couldn't help thinking about. I had no idea how long he'd be, since I had no clue where he was coming from or how he was planning on getting here.

Perhaps if I'd been on the phone with him for another few moments...
But I couldn't risk another call.

Even as I thought that, the squeak of the walker outside got louder. With my body as stiff as it was, I could practically feel the minute vibrations in the floor from each footfall.

If you've ever seen a horror movie where someone has to hide from the evil slasher, killing all those sinful teenage boys and girls, you'll be familiar with this moment. It's that part of the scene where the hider just can't seem to breathe quietly.

It didn't matter how hard I tried to not make any noise, whether I breathed in through my mouth or nose. The rush of air in and out of my body was deafening.

And don't just say, "Well, why doesn't she just hold her breath, duh?" It doesn't work like that, as I found out.

You could try holding your breath all you like. It's just that with your heart rattling like a machine gun in your chest, pushing all that blood around as quickly as it can, your body needs a lot of air.

And, to top it all off, those fucking lights just would not turn off. And I wasn't moving at all, I swear. My fingers were beginning to cramp around my phone, I had them so rigid.

It sounded like he was just steps away from the bathroom door.

The lights turned out, washing me in blissful, wonderful shadow. The only light came in from the doorjamb.

It still wasn't over. I didn't know how sensitive the light sensor was. For all I knew, wiggling a finger would be enough to set it off again.

The only part of me I felt safe moving was my eyes. These, I swiveled as much as they could to watch the light coming in under the door. Yes, there were two shadows there of someone standing just feet away, a few inches of wood all that was separating us.

"Unit Four, what's your status?" a radio crackled.

"I spotted her, Central, but she bolted. I'm looking for her now," the cop replied.

This definitely wasn't Officer Kelly. He had a deep voice that I was sure scared the crap out of tourists he pulled over for speeding.

"Ten-four, reports every ten minutes, Unit Four."

The radio stopped crackling, then. I had my hand clamped over my mouth and nose, my lungs burning. My eyes refused to blink, choosing instead to stare at those twin shadows cast by the cop's feet, mere inches from me.

The effort of not breathing sent me trembling. My body was demanding I take a breath, and it was a debate I was losing. This must be how people about drowning people feel, I thought. It was utterly terrifying.

Did he know I was in here? Was he just trying to figure out if there was some way to coax me into leaving? Or had it already been a long patrol, and this was the first men's room he'd come across all night since that extra large coffee from
Bonnie's?

Perhaps picking the men's room to hide in wasn't my most brilliant idea ever.

"Stupid Putnam and his stupid son..." Unit Four said, trailing off into a stream of half-heard curses.

Then he walked away, still muttering to himself.

I held still a while longer, allowing myself a few gulped breaths. Finally, after knots had formed in both my calves and the left side of my back, I heard the door to the stairs switch open and then bang shut as Unit Four took the search to a new floor.

I let my head roll back, bumping against the wall. As I closed my eyes (so, so dry...) the lights came back on.

I got up and went to the sink, hissing at the pain in my legs. The water coming from the tap was ice cold, and it burned like good whisky going down my throat.

Taking out my phone, I tried to call Vick. It rang six times before I turned it off. When I tried again a minute later, a low signal warning flashed on my screen.

The blizzard was getting even worse out there, apparently. I hoped Vick wasn't coming from far away.

I drank a couple more mouthfuls of water, trying to quell the hungry ball expanding in my stomach. Yes, if I had any more adventures after tonight, I'd remember to bring a backpack full of supplies with me. No matter how dumb it made me look. I'd take looking dumb over starving any time.

"He's on his way," I told my reflection. It gave me a doubtful stare in return.

It's not like I could blame myself. From our brief conversation, it sounded like Vick was still set on going through with the ceremony. I had my work cut out for me, apparently.

The door to the stairs opened and closed again. Another pair of wet boots squeaked down the hall. It was coming straight towards me.

My first thought was "Cop!"

This time, I hid myself under the sink, hoping that the light sensor wouldn't be paying attention to this part of the room and would therefore kill those fluorescents faster.

The boots stopped right outside the door. There was hint of shadow coming in under the jamb. I willed him to go away again even as I wondered what had given me away, what made him come back.

"Stephanie?"

Three knocks echoed through the bathroom.

"Vick?" I said, my voice barely louder than a whisper.

"Stephanie? Are you in there?"

"Yes! I'm here!" I said, my throat hoarse and dry, not willing to let me call out to him.

The shadows of his feet began receding from the door. He was going to leave!

I threw myself forward, getting a good knock on the head from the edge of the vanity as I did.

"Vick!
Vick!" I said, running for the door, my hands reaching for the little steel latch for the deadbolt. I knew, somewhere, that I didn't have to react like this. If he walked away, I could just follow him down the hall.

It was just that the rest of me flew into the panic at the thought of being left alone in there until that cop decided to make another, more thorough pass of the floor.

I slammed against the door, which battered against its frame. The deadbolt clicked back, and I wrenched the door open, sending a wave of air through the room that made my coat rustle on my shoulders.

Vick was two steps down the hall, looking over his shoulder. When he saw me, he came back and I found myself held in his arms, my face pressed against the sweater he had on under his black winter coat. His heart thumped against my cheek, the beat of it strong and sure and real.

"It's okay. I found you, see?"

If he found me, so could Unit Four. I pushed away from him, looking down the hall.

"Oh, don't worry about that police officer. He left looking pretty pissed. I passed him on my way in."

"So... We can get out of here?"

The student center felt wrong when it wasn't thrumming with classes, people filling the cafeteria clamoring in line, and the rush of bodies through the halls on their way to one appointment or another. It was like their ghosts were still there, their phantoms.

"Yeah, we can try. I've got a truck outside... I'm sure we can use it to get you back to your dorm."

He started to move past me, going for the doors to the stairs. My hand trailed along the smooth material of his coat until my fingers tightened around his wrist.

There was something I had to get through to him. Something I knew I'd never be able to make him understand if we went back out into that blizzard and he drove me back to my dorm. I knew it my bones that if I let that happen, I'd never see him again. He'd complete his ceremony, become a full-fledged member of his family, and Adam would
be dead.

When he felt the resistance, he turned and looked at me.

"What is it?" he asked.

"The ceremony..." I said.

"Stephanie, I told you this on the phone! Adam is a monster, and I'm going to make sure he never gets the chance to hurt anyone. Even if he hasn't hurt anyone yet. He will."

I let his hand drop. "You don't know that."

He threw his hands up in exasperation. "No, I don't. But in my experience... in my family's experience, I do know what he is, and what that means he's going to do eventually."

"He hasn't done anything so far. He doesn't want to do anything like that... Vick..."

I grabbed his hands in mine. He wasn't wearing any gloves, not that he needed them. His hands were big, and they were hot, his skin burning against mine.

They trembled, too.

I knew this argument. It was a familiar one. Very similar to the one the first few doctors gave to my mom. The cancer is inoperable. You're going to die. You have no say in it.

Three months they gave her.
Then six. Then we got rid of those doctors when we realized that there really was a chance with the research being done by the pharmaceutical company.

"Vick... There's always a way. Just because you believe something is going to happen doesn't mean that it will. Adam is a man, able to make his own choices and help himself. You're taking his free will away by doing this, making that choice for him."

He squeezed my hands almost to the point of pain, then fixed me with a stare.

"You don't understand. Adam wants to die. I've looked into his eyes, he's told me..."

"He doesn't know he didn't kill Jenn! See what just the thought of it's done to him? Can you honestly tell me right now that you think he won't take every precaution possible in the future to make sure there isn't even the slightest risk of him hurting a person when he changes?"

Vick pulled away from me, then. He clasped his hands behind his head, the frustration plain on his face. I could feel the battle going on inside him.

To do what I was asking meant disavowing his family and their traditions, going back however many generations. He wanted so badly to be a part of them. But it was obvious that he agreed with me. He just wouldn't let himself come to grips with it.

He studied the
cinderblock wall, painted white along the top half with a red band below that, followed by more white.

"No!" he said, slapping both hands so hard against that wall that it sounded like a gunshot.

"They're your family. I know that. But you know this is wrong, and we both know you can't kill Adam."

He leaned against the wall,
then slowly let himself sink down to the floor. He buried his face in his hands, rubbing vigorously at his cheeks and pushing against his eyes.

"I told myself it was all right. You know what? Part of me wanted to do it just to get him out of the way..."

I sat down beside him, putting my arm over those broad shoulders and pulling him close. The wall and the floor with hard, cold, and uncomfortable, especially after my episode in the bathroom, but I made myself sit down there with him, like I wished he'd been there with me.

"Out of the way for what?"
I said.

"For you, Stephanie..." he looked at me then, his eyes clear and his face intense. Those eyes of his glanced down to my lips, then back up.

A familiar, buzzing heat started inside me.

He leaned in to kiss me, his lips parting slightly even as his eyes closed. For a bit there, I really wanted to just let it happen. But I couldn't. There was Adam, wherever Vick and his family held him, being prepared for death.

I turned my face so that his kiss landed on my cheek. There was a little bit of stubble on his face, and it scratched at my skin for a moment before he realized what I'd done.

"You know how I feel about Adam," I said.

He nodded. There was defeat in his eyes. But for what? Not getting me? Disobeying his family? Obeying them?

"I know... As soon as the snow lets up, we'll go."

"Where?" I said, still worried that he might just drop me at my dorm and wash his hands of the whole thing.

"We're going to go force my family to set Adam free and leave him alone."

I pulled him close to me, letting his head rest on my shoulder. His forehead was crinkled with concern and frustration still. I kissed those wrinkles.

"It's the right thing to do," I said.

"Sometimes, the right thing and the best thing aren't the same..." he said.

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