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Chapter 8

Vampires.

That's what Jorick said they were; what Michael was. It was like a sick joke that shouldn't have been funny. But somehow, it was.

Even funnier was that it might be true.

When Katelina's laughter had subsided, she stood wearily and touched her burning shoulder. She pulled her hand back in surprise and eyed the scarlet on her palm. She was bleeding.

"Shit."

After everything that had happened, she knew she was lucky to be alive, unlike her poor phone. Still, it was sarcasm, not gratitude that bubbled out, "So, let me guess, Claudius is a vampire too?"

Jorick kicked the bloody sword into a stand of weedy grass. Without asking permission, he placed his hand on her neck and tilted her to one side to examine her wound. "Yes, he is. They all were, except Patrick, of course."

"It's too dark out here to see anything," she objected quietly, preferring to ignore what he'd said.

"I can see well enough to say that you've gotten quite a bite." He sounded calm - too calm - like this was an ordinary thing.

"Bite? You've got to be kidding..." her voice faded as she recalled the vampire movies she'd seen. She didn't know that she'd accepted his explanation yet, in fact she wasn't even sure what she'd really seen or heard. But what if it was true? What if they were vampires? A lump of cold dread formed in her throat and forced her silent.

"Yes, you've been bitten." He peered so closely at the wound that his breath tickled her skin. "It doesn't look like he tore any muscles," he murmured absently. "You'll have a scar of course, but you shouldn't need stitches." He released her and took a step back. His eyes strayed to the dark trees surrounding them; the trunks close together to form a wall of blackness. "We should get moving."

Jorick started to move away, but Katelina hung back, her mind spinning. If those were vampires - if - and she'd been bitten-

"Does that mean I'll be a...a..."

Jorick turned back to her. "A vampire?" he sounded amused. "No, that's only myth. It takes a lot more than that to become a vampire."

"Oh." She felt an odd relief. "He doesn't have any power over me or anything, right? I read that in a book once."

Jorick shook his head to the negative. "The one who bit you is dead, but even if he wasn't he wouldn't have control over you, it doesn't work like that." He glanced from the trees to her immobile form. His dark eyes seemed to see past her brave front, to the scared little girl inside. "We need to get moving."

She flushed at the imagined intrusion and moved quickly to join him. "Of course, sorry."

Nighttime noises sounded around them. They made Katelina uncomfortable, so she talked over them "How does someone become a - " she hesitated, " - a vampire?" She whispered the word, afraid that saying the name would conjure one of the monsters from thin air. Despite her logical disbelief, she still wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't. Though she'd seen Michael and felt the inhuman strength of the man who attacked her, it seemed so absurd.

"It's complicated," Jorick answered. He shrugged his shoulders casually, but his tone made it clear that the conversation was over.

They reached the trees and plunged into them. Katelina shivered as the word replayed in her mind.

Vampires.

She glanced around at the darkened land and thought to herself that at this moment there was a good possibility that vampires existed. Somehow, the night made everything a little less real and a little more fictional. It turned everything to muted shades of gray, like an old Boris Karloff film, and cast shadows that hid unspeakable things in their black depths. Tomorrow, when she returned to the world of sunshine and plastic and shiny chrome, it would be a ridiculous impossibility, but at that moment why wouldn't there be vampires stalking the earth?

"Maybe you should have brought the sword." Her trembling voice betrayed her fear.

"It wouldn't do a lot of good here in the open. Besides, it would be hard to explain should we be observed."

"Of course." Yeah, a guy running around with a sword would look a little out of place, to say the least. In fact, a guy who lived in an abandoned basement and owned a sword was weird enough. It was all weird. Weird and creepy.

With nothing else to say, they walked in silence for some time, until she suddenly drew short and cried out, "My car!"

Jorick stopped and looked at her as though she was having a fit. "What?"

"My car! It's still back there! I have to get it! I can't just leave it abandoned in the middle of the country over night! What if they steal it or, worse, vandalize it?" She imagined explaining to the insurance company what had happened and trying to reason with them that the damage should be covered by her insurance plan. After all, vampires were not an act of God.

"If you want to," Jorick said nonchalantly. He put his back to her and continued walking. "But I'm not going back."

"Damn it." She stomped her foot childishly. The thought of walking back through the trees alone was out of the question. She'd done enough stupid things for one night. "What about my car?"

But he didn't look back. She scowled and hurried to fall into step beside him. "What am I going to do if they trash it?"

"Get another car," he answered. "There are a lot of cars in the world."

"I'm sure that's easy for you to say. I mean, you're living out there in the middle of nowhere - you don't even have electricity. Why would you understand?"

"Yes, it is easy for me." He stared straight ahead and didn't bother to glance at her as he spoke. "I've owned cars and I've been without cars, and either way I always manage. I've lived in houses filled with obscene amounts of wealth, and hovels without even the comfort of a wooden door. That house back there will burn to the ground and I will have to find another. None of it is important. There are only a few things that one needs to survive in this world."

"Well, yes, but how am I going to get home without a car?"

His eyes flicked to her. "I would suggest that you don't go home." She opened her mouth to argue, but he continued, "At least not until the sun has been up for an hour or more, and then, if I were you, I would go only to save my possessions before I moved."

She stopped dead in her tracks and exploded, "Move? I'm not moving! I've lived in that apartment for three years. I like it!"

"All the more reason. A change of scenery does one good, you know." His voice was steady and reasonable, and he glanced back at her. "Besides, if they knew where Patrick lived, and Patrick knew where you lived, then 'they' know where you live. That's something that you don't want to happen - you never want 'them' to know where you live."

"You don't really think they'd..." she didn't want to say the next words, though she wasn't even sure what they'd be. Kill me? Maim me? Hurt me? All of them were viable possibilities, especially right now when she almost believed it all. "They wouldn't really?"

Jorick nodded calmly. "Yes, I think they would. You were Patrick's lover, Patrick is now dead. It makes sense you would get involved to seek revenge. You've seen the things they're capable of. If they find you it won't be pretty, I can guarantee it. Patrick's death will be tidy compared to what they will do to you."

Her hand unconsciously went to her throat. "I thought you said that your house would burn to the ground? Surely they can't survive fire?"

"Yes, it will burn, and no, they cannot survive fire, but some of them will undoubtedly escape." He seemed almost resigned. "They'll get out and take Michael with them and go before Claudius with their story. Maybe Michael will be pardoned, if he happens to know where they can find you."

She had nothing left to say. Her feet were already aching but she forced herself to trudge onwards with the reminder that bloodthirsty vampires might be following them.

She checked her watch to find it was nearly midnight. She sighed deeply and wondered if the night would ever end or just continue forever in a world of darkness and absurdity.