Shattered by Sophia Sharp

car, kept his hands on the wheel. His shoulder slumped, and he looked tired. Maybe as tired as she felt. But she knew it wasn’t a physical weariness that touched him. It was an emotional one.
    She studied his face. His skin looked so smooth, so delicate. So white. His dark eyes made a perfect contrast, as did his pitch-black hair, which was styled up so exorbitantly. She realized for the first time that he had near-perfect cheekbones, not too high and not too low, and that his nose and jaw were both strong and handsome. He was handsome. But he was also something else.
    “You’re a vampire,” she whispered.
    He cringed. “I hate that name. Hate that title. And it’s not who I am. It might be a smal part of what I must do to survive, but… it’s not me.”
    A vampire. He had told her that’s what human folklore would cal him. A bloodsucker, a monster, a predator, a killer . And he was sitting right beside her, close enough for her to reach out and touch.
    “You feed on human blood.” She should be terrified, saying that. She should be terrified, sitting so close to him. She should be terrified, except that… she wasn’t. Al she felt was a cool, dark calm.
    “Yes,” he admitted. “Every time, I try to fight it, but…
    I can’t. Morals and ethics mean nothing when you’re starving. We battle depression between feedings. The longer we go without blood, the less confident we get. The less graceful we get, the less powerful we get. We become shel s of our former selves, and we become obsessive about finding food. My only solace is how infrequently I need to feed.”
    “How often do you do it?” she asked.
    “Twice a year, only.”
    “And…” she gulped, “…when was the last time you fed?”
    Despite himself, he smiled. “Less than a week ago.”
    Al of a sudden, al of it clicked into place for Laura. Al of a sudden, everything made sense. His arrival here. The unusual murder. The animal warning. And his transformation after.
    “ You’re the animal,” she breathed. And for the first time in his presence, she felt a shiver run down her spine.
    He nodded. “I am, aren’t I? And you’re the only one who knows. Usual y I don’t leave my prey like that, for people to find after, but I was careless.”
    “The hitman,” Laura continued. “You’re the one who kil ed him!”
    “Yes. You see, I try to balance things out in choosing my targets. The man had a body list at least twenty long on him. A contract kil er, he would have struck soon had I not acted. And then some time again, thereafter. It’s a smal solace I can take in thinking I might have prevent some deaths.”
    Laura understood. She understood what he meant. She identified with him.
    “Logan,” she asked suddenly. A question had occurred to her, one that she wanted to know the answer to. “Are your kind born that way, or can they be transformed?”
    “Both,” he answered.
    “And you, then?”
    “I was born a human.”
    Everything clicked again. She understood his struggle, understood his morals. Understood why he tried to fight something that came so natural y. She had one last question, though.
    “How old are you?”
    In reply, Logan smiled sadly, and turned his head. For the first time in what seemed like eons, their eyes met. “Do you want to know my age, or how long ago I was born?”
    “What’s the difference?”
    “We stop aging once we’re transformed.”
    “Tel me both.”
    “My human age,” he said, “is eighteen years old.”
    “And how long ago were you born?”
    “I was brought into this planet four hundred and twenty-nine years ago.”
    Too much blood rushed to Laura’s head, and she passed out.

Chapter Fourteen
    ~Confrontations~
    “Laura? Laura, wake up.”
    Laura opened her eyes. Logan was standing over her. She was lying down, on a hard surface. Somewhere damp. She blinked. She was inside, and the interior reminded her of a wooden cabin. She pushed herself up, and looked around. She was in a smal room,