ridges there would be some wind, at least, and the creek and the trees.
And a burned-out shell of a house. I now owned nothing but the land, and not even that until I was eighteen. I’d always had this thought of moving up there after I was finished with school or something, just retreating from everything. Maybe trading hexbreaking and stuff for food, like Gran had. You could just scrape by in that part of the country. Everyone up in the hills pretty much “just scraped by.”
As life dreams go, I know it sucks. But it was my little dream, and now it was a charred mess. Just like everything else.
A wave of shaking slid through my bones, jostling around like my body hadn’t decided whether or not it was going to pitch a fit.
Ash kept chewing, staring bright-eyed at me. He was still filthy, and I had to coax him into a shower somehow. Christophe had even brought clothes for
him
. He’d thought of everything.
“Dru?” Graves moved, like he was going to unfold himself from the side of the bed. “You okay?”
Don’t ask
. “I . . .” My eyes prickled. “I don’t know.”
He stripped his hair back from his face with stiff fingers. But he wasn’t looking at me. “He was there. Right before the . . . the vampires hit.”
“You lost your coat.” I let my hair fall down, because the prickling turned to hot water and welled up. I couldn’t blink it back.
Jesus. The crying needed to stop, and
now
.
Graves coughed slightly. “It’s okay. It’s a thousand degrees out there; I don’t need it. Dru, we have to talk.”
Oh, Jesus. Every time we have to talk, I end up more confused than before. I can’t take this
. “Not now.” I bounced up, swiping at my eyes. “Come on, Ash. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
C HAPTER E LEVEN
It was another Subaru, but blue, and newer than the one we’d stolen. Power windows, power locks, plenty of cargo space, and it smelled faintly of vanilla from the air freshener hanging from the rearview. Dawn was gray in the east, the whole world was greenjuice fresh, and it was going to be another scorcher. You could just tell by the way your clothes stuck to you as soon as you stepped outside.
I didn’t know if Christophe had slept. I’d curled up in the bed furthest from the door and fell into a darkness so deep I couldn’t even remember any dreams. When I’d closed my eyes Christophe had been standing looking out the window; when I opened them he was in a chair at the table, writing on the legal pad. A chunky silver watch gleamed on his wrist, and the window was just graying up with the sunrise. He glanced up, and saw that I was awake.
We were out the door fifteen minutes later.
I folded my hands around the paper latte cup. Christophe turned the air conditioning up a bit. The tires made a low sweet sound onthe road, and if I shut my eyes, I could almost pretend I was driving with Dad.
But the silence with Dad had never been this angry, or this dangerous.
Ash curled up on his half of the backseat, impossibly small. Graves hunched in his seat, holding an americano and staring out the window like the answer to world peace was in the passing scenery. I lasted about twenty minutes before flipping the radio on to fill up the silence, twisting the dial until I found an oldies station. Graves lasted about a half hour after that before he cracked the window and lit a cigarette. Christophe restrained himself, but I saw his jaw set.
It was a ways to California. Something told me this was gonna be a long trip.
“God,” I moaned, with feeling. “Not pizza. Please. I can’t take more fast food.”
“What’s wrong with pizza?” Graves wanted to know. “Lots of cheese, bubbling grease, pepperoni—”
“Ugh.” I laced my fingers over my stomach. “No pizza, Christophe. No burgers either. I want to eat somewhere
nice
.” My conscience pinched. “If we can afford it. Or hell, let’s get a place with a kitchenette and I’ll cook.”
Yeah, I was
And a burned-out shell of a house. I now owned nothing but the land, and not even that until I was eighteen. I’d always had this thought of moving up there after I was finished with school or something, just retreating from everything. Maybe trading hexbreaking and stuff for food, like Gran had. You could just scrape by in that part of the country. Everyone up in the hills pretty much “just scraped by.”
As life dreams go, I know it sucks. But it was my little dream, and now it was a charred mess. Just like everything else.
A wave of shaking slid through my bones, jostling around like my body hadn’t decided whether or not it was going to pitch a fit.
Ash kept chewing, staring bright-eyed at me. He was still filthy, and I had to coax him into a shower somehow. Christophe had even brought clothes for
him
. He’d thought of everything.
“Dru?” Graves moved, like he was going to unfold himself from the side of the bed. “You okay?”
Don’t ask
. “I . . .” My eyes prickled. “I don’t know.”
He stripped his hair back from his face with stiff fingers. But he wasn’t looking at me. “He was there. Right before the . . . the vampires hit.”
“You lost your coat.” I let my hair fall down, because the prickling turned to hot water and welled up. I couldn’t blink it back.
Jesus. The crying needed to stop, and
now
.
Graves coughed slightly. “It’s okay. It’s a thousand degrees out there; I don’t need it. Dru, we have to talk.”
Oh, Jesus. Every time we have to talk, I end up more confused than before. I can’t take this
. “Not now.” I bounced up, swiping at my eyes. “Come on, Ash. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
C HAPTER E LEVEN
It was another Subaru, but blue, and newer than the one we’d stolen. Power windows, power locks, plenty of cargo space, and it smelled faintly of vanilla from the air freshener hanging from the rearview. Dawn was gray in the east, the whole world was greenjuice fresh, and it was going to be another scorcher. You could just tell by the way your clothes stuck to you as soon as you stepped outside.
I didn’t know if Christophe had slept. I’d curled up in the bed furthest from the door and fell into a darkness so deep I couldn’t even remember any dreams. When I’d closed my eyes Christophe had been standing looking out the window; when I opened them he was in a chair at the table, writing on the legal pad. A chunky silver watch gleamed on his wrist, and the window was just graying up with the sunrise. He glanced up, and saw that I was awake.
We were out the door fifteen minutes later.
I folded my hands around the paper latte cup. Christophe turned the air conditioning up a bit. The tires made a low sweet sound onthe road, and if I shut my eyes, I could almost pretend I was driving with Dad.
But the silence with Dad had never been this angry, or this dangerous.
Ash curled up on his half of the backseat, impossibly small. Graves hunched in his seat, holding an americano and staring out the window like the answer to world peace was in the passing scenery. I lasted about twenty minutes before flipping the radio on to fill up the silence, twisting the dial until I found an oldies station. Graves lasted about a half hour after that before he cracked the window and lit a cigarette. Christophe restrained himself, but I saw his jaw set.
It was a ways to California. Something told me this was gonna be a long trip.
“God,” I moaned, with feeling. “Not pizza. Please. I can’t take more fast food.”
“What’s wrong with pizza?” Graves wanted to know. “Lots of cheese, bubbling grease, pepperoni—”
“Ugh.” I laced my fingers over my stomach. “No pizza, Christophe. No burgers either. I want to eat somewhere
nice
.” My conscience pinched. “If we can afford it. Or hell, let’s get a place with a kitchenette and I’ll cook.”
Yeah, I was
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