House Wyndham Vampires: Half Light Part 2

A corner of his mouth pulled up in a lop-sided grin and he moved his hand in front of my face. "h.e.l.lo?"

I felt heat rise to my cheeks. Why was it that even after years of being 17 I still didn't know what to say to a cute guy? "Oh...sorry." And I looked down.

Why do I always look down? Ah...stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Why are you sorry? Looks like I interrupted-" he moved to look at my tablet screen. He frowned and shook his head. "I don't think I know that movie."

"It's nothing. Just an older movie."

"Looks like Harrison Ford."

"It is."

"What's the name of it?"

I cleared my throat. His heartbeat was distracting. As was his incredible smell. "Sabrina."

He pursed his lips for a second before he shook his head. "No. Not a clue." He laughed softly. "But if it makes you happy, then that's all that matters, right?"

If it makes me happy- When had I ever heard that about myself? Never. No one had ever worried about what I liked or wanted. My very existence wasn't even something I wanted.

"Hey-are you all right? I mean-I always see you here-and you never actually drink the coffee."

I realized I'd been staring blankly at him again. When was the last time I'd spoken to a human? "I-ah-I do drink it."

"I don't know," he sat back and gave me a half smile before he said, "I've been watching you for a while."

"You've been watching me?" My voice might have come out a bit more stressed than I intended. To have the man I'd saved say he'd been watching me was unnerving.

"I mean since you came in. Today," he said as he pointed to the table. "I didn't mean to freak you out-I'm a little lacking in social graces. But I don't want you to think I'm some sort of perv-" he said as he scooted the chair back and started to stand.

I don't know why I did what I did. I knew I should have just let him leave-let him stay in his life, in a life he knew and would have a future in. Not in mine.

But I reached out across the table for his wrist. My hand on his bare flesh.

Warm. Living. Heartbeat.

"No-" I said. "I'm sorry-I'm just not used to people coming up and talking to me."

I looked at him sideways and saw the grin return. He looked down at my hand on his arm and put his free hand over mine. More heat. The thump of his heart beating. The smell... Why can I smell him over the coffee?

"I can tell you why." His grin widened. "I mean-why no one comes and talks to you."

I pulled my hand back from him before I realized it. He knew why? He knew what I was? Did he remember what happened? He looked like he'd never been touched. His face had no scars. There was nothing.

He sat back down. "I've been coming in here a few weeks now, and you're always here. And I've been watching guys watching you. And you," he gave me a half grin. "You never look up."

I pursed my lips. "I'm reading, or watching a movie."

"I noticed. But then I see these other guys start toward you. And they get about right," he leaned out and then back over the table and as if getting a better angle of something on the floor. "See that spot in the floor right there? With the shoe streak?"

I looked and nodded. "Yeah."

"They walk up to about right there and freeze. They turn with this really weird look on their faces. And then they walk away. Never do say a word."

I sat back and opened my mouth, and then closed it. "So...you mean there have been others who've come up to talk to me today, but never do?"

"Ah-yep." His grin was infectious. I grinned too. "And I started paying attention to that little drama instead of my books."

Not only was his smile warming me, but so was his easy way of conversation. It wasn't a slang or an accent. But more in his voice. He seemed completely at ease with himself. Comfortable. "So-you've been watching other guys come up to talk to me, and then they walk away?"

"Mmmhmm. So after sitting here watching you, I figured I'd come over here and find out why they all stopped."

"And?" I had my shoulders up in a shrug. "You didn't seem to hit a wall."

"I kinda did. When I got to that same mark on the tile I got this intense feeling that said Go Away. But see," and he looked a little worried. "I couldn't stop myself. I was pretty sure-when I looked into your eyes-you wouldn't mind. That it'd be okay if I talked to you."

I put my elbows on the table and fixed him with a look Jared hated. He told me it made him feel all guilty inside even when he hadn't done anything. "You see something in my eyes?" I rested my chin in my palms awaiting his answer, looking calm as ever outside, but freaking out inside.

He leaned in on the table as well. "Yeah, I do. Something familiar. I can't put a finger on it, but it's like," he shook his head. "I'm just drawn to you...I'm curious."

"Curiosity? That killed a cat once didn't it?"

"Yep. But satisfaction and all that." Another flash of a smile. "Honestly-I'm not sure why. I think it has to do with what my mom called that Fleetwood tenacity. When I see something that interests me, I investigate it. Thought I might be a P.I. one day."

"Not a detective?"

"No. Private Investigator." He offered me his hand. "My name's Brandon Fleetword. I'm a senior over at Lakeside and I'm eighteen. Newly eighteen I might add." He grinned. "I know-why is this guy eighteen and just now starting senior year? It's because my birthday falls after that ridiculous cut off. So I started first grade after everyone else."

Eighteen.

So young.

I stared at his hand.

He leaned in and waved at me with his other hand. "You're supposed to take it and shake it. It's the weirdest custom, I know-but most people find it friendly. Or we could bow."

With what I hoped was a very curt look I shook his hand. "Nice to meet you Brandon Fleetwood."

His skin was soft and warm. So warm.

Brandon looked at our hands a few beats too long, as if he was surprised by something. "The next thing you do is tell me your name, and let go of my hand."

I immediately let his hand go-way embarra.s.sed. "Sorry."

"No no," he looked at his hand for a second and I knew it at that moment. I was too cold. "Did you feel that?"

"Feel what?" I was ready to bolt. I'd leave everything here if I needed to.

"I don't know...it was like this weird sensation. You didn't feel anything?"

I had...but I didn't want him to know it. I shrugged. "Maybe the flu?"

"Oh I don't get sick." He put his hands on the table. "Name please. Or I'll name you myself."

"Name me?"

"Yeah like..." and he leaned back. "Pretty-Girl-Never-Drinks-Coffee. Or Hottie-In-Coffee-Shop or something."

I heard myself laugh and tried not to look as shocked as I felt. I hadn't really laughed in a while. Not like that. I sounded like nut-girl.

That's when I felt someone watching me. And when I looked to the window, nut-girl was there. I hadn't heard her today. She didn't look happy. What? Was I too loud? Did my laugh overpower yours?

I put my hand to my mouth and smiled behind it. "No. Please don't."

"Then a name."

"Carly."

"I love the name Carly. Last name?"

I shrugged. "I don't really use my last name. I like my middle name."

"Which is?"

"Piper."

"What kind of 'effed up name is Piper?" A new, female voice said from somewhere outside of mine and Brandon's conversation.

It was Nut-Girl.

I tensed when she spoke. Her perfume overwhelmed everything as she stood too close. Even though I couldn't smell it, I was sure her blood was as rancid as her aura. The perfume was a nauseating, cloying smell. Something cheap she'd bought at Target and pa.s.sed off as a Macy's exclusive. The harem of boys remained on the couch, watching their Mistress of Nuts as she performed the Alpha-Dance of dominant female between me and Brandon.

Bad idea to do that with me.

"Heather-" Brandon stood and his chair sc.r.a.ped on the tiled floor. "Just go, all right? You got your little boys club over there. So go enjoy them."

"Why? So you can vanquish your latest pick-of-the week?" Heather's voice dripped with malice and something I hadn't heard in a long time.

Jealousy.

He apparently knew her. I looked up between the two of them. Yes. He knew her. Had known her. And whatever had happened between them had not ended well.

That was my cue to leave. Father had given me a year to live on my own. But his only word of warning was that I remain invisible. That I not cause trouble and I didn't draw attention to us. It was bad enough my blood inside of him called to me.

Not enough time had pa.s.sed.

"Never break the veil, Carly," Father had said the day he'd granted my only bonding request. "Never let them know we exist. If you do the consequences of that action will be painful and swift."

I shut off the tablet and tucked it into my messenger bag and grabbed up my brown fedora (that was my brother's idea not mine).

Brandon moved to stand between Heather and I and faced me. "Carly-please don't go."

"Oh get over it, Brandon. You know you're not good enough for anyone else. So stop trying to pick up girls older than you just to make me jealous." Heather stood just behind him, her hands on her hips. Dark lines of hate carved themselves into her flesh and made her look older than she was.

Older? Forget the fact I was older in years but physically I was younger than him. But that wasn't what irritated me. What did was Heather's insinuation that Brandon was desperate so he'd picked on the weakest target in the room. I was the low hanging fruit.

"Who is this?" I asked Brandon, but kept my eyes focused on the Nut-Girl.

Brandon looked apologetic. "I'm sorry Carly-this is Heather Cobb." He hesitated. "We go to the same school." He glanced back at her. "She has a lot of boyfriends."

But Heather wasn't going to let him get away with a simple introduction like that. She physically pushed him to the side so she could see me. "We are also dating."

"No we're not," Brandon said. I could tell from the rapid beating of his heart and the sound of frustration in his voice this was an old argument. He grabbed at her shoulder and turned her around to face him. "You seem to forget that I remember exactly who attacked me in the woods on Monday, Heather. I know you sent them after me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Heather pulled her shoulder away. "Everything you said was a lie. Just look at you-not a scratch. While Jack and the others had the s.h.i.t kicked out of them."

I winced inside. Well, I hadn't done that to them, but I had used a bit of force. And they hadn't had the benefit of my blood afterward. I hadn't considered how it would look for Brandon to appear untouched and when they were bruised and battered.

"I never put a finger on them, Heather." Brandon's voice lowered. "But I have a very distinct memory of them trying to drown me. So what was it this time, huh? Was it the fact my dad fired yours?"

"Back off, Fleetwood," came a menacing voice to our right.

I froze. I knew that voice-it belonged to one of Brandon's attackers.

I looked past Brandon to the voice. It wasn't the blonde, not the one that'd delivered the most damage. It was one of the others, the little lackey.

From the look in his eyes, I knew he wasn't the Alpha of the harem. No, this was a cub. And he hadn't been in the coffee shop in her little group that afternoon.

Brandon turned to face him. "f.u.c.k you, Paoli. I'm the only reason you and your little wanna-be fight club weren't brought up on a.s.sault charges," Brandon held out his arms. "I asked the cops to dismiss them. For you and your boyfriend."

Paoli started toward Brandon, and when he did three of the guys on the couch stood, ready to join in.

I realized we had everyone's attention. Everyone's attention. This was bad.

This is not low profile.

I moved myself behind Brandon where Paoli's gaze caught my own, and once I had his attention, I sent him a silent but painful command.

BACK OFF OR DIE!.

Paoli blinked and took several steps back. He visibly shook as he turned and left the coffee shop at a dead run.

Brandon bristled. I smiled. Let him believe he was the one that frightened that kid. It would help him build confidence.

Heather's expression turned red and she whirled on him. "What did you do-I saw him looking at you."

"Oh for crying out loud you dummy," Brandon said and reached out to me. "Carly, come on. I'll take you home."