The Night House by Rachel Tafoya Page A

slightly resembling confidence. “You seriously need some real food, or you’re slowly going to run out of energy. In a permanent way.”
    Finally, my vision sharpens with a burst of adrenaline, and I focus on his eyes. He knows something about me, I just don’t know what.
    “I don’t understand,” I say. I hate how quiet my voice is.
    “Please,” he pleads. “I just want to help you.”
    That’s when I vomit.

James
     
    I felt it coming, but it still surprises me when she throws up on the sidewalk.
    “Are you okay?” I ask, leaning closer.
    She bats me away, embarrassment filling the gap inside her. “Get away from me.”
    “Just hold on. Let me get you some water and napkins.”
    I sprint to the nearby pretzel stand, throwing a five-dollar bill at the vendor and taking as many napkins as I can and a bottle of water. Just when I think she’s making a break for it, I see her shuffle over to another bench. I sit next to her and hand her the napkins. She begrudgingly accepts, spitting on the ground and wiping her face. Then she takes a gulp of the water.
    “You misunderstand me,” I begin.
    She doesn’t say anything.
    “I haven’t been following you or anything creepy. I just…after I saw you that night, I’ve been really worried.”
    Relief washes over her, but not enough to cause her muscles to unclench. I decide not to tell her what I was doing before I got to Love Park. How I found myself wandering around the club where she first found me. How I went back to the South Street Diner, wandering slowly through the streets, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.
    I’ve never opened myself up as much as I did this morning. My senses were completely vulnerable. Shiloh was there to make sure I didn’t drown in it all. He was my anchor while I searched all of Philly for any trace of this girl.
    “I had to see if I could help you.”
    “Help?” Pale lips sound out the word. She leans back. “If you know anything about me, you know that I’m a little beyond your scope.”
    The sarcasm allows her to take control of the conversation. She folds her arms. I’m still scared she’s going to get sick on me, or that she’s going to make a break for it.
    “Well, you don’t know me very well.”
    “Which is what makes this stalking.”
    She’s losing her grip, I can tell that much. I’m still not connected to her, though. I can only read the surface of her. Discomfort. Embarrassment. Curiosity. This is my chance; I can’t screw it up again.
    Shiloh hovers nearby, keeping his distance, but he’s nervous. He wants to make sure I’m okay before he leaves.
    “I just want to talk to you, okay? Maybe buy you a decent meal,” I say.
    “I suppose you owe me for that kiss,” she says, with a sly smile. My face heats up.
    “You kissed me.” I hold my hands up. “I’m just trying to help out.”
    “Stop saying the H word.” The girl breaks eye contact. Her head droops, and she catches it in her hands. Blond hair falls to one side of her face, a curtain shielding her from me. She’s getting more tired, letting some of her defenses down. “I’ve had a bad couple of days, alright? Be nice.”
    “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m really not trying to freak you out.”
    “A-plus job, man,” she says with a sigh.
    Her hands fall to her lap. God, I wish I knew what she was thinking.
    “Please, just let me buy you some food. You don’t even have to talk, if you don’t want to.”
    She tilts her head toward me. Her hair parts, and I get a glimpse of her eyes.
    “You just had to be a nice boy.”
    A half smile emerges on my face, despite myself. “Sorry to let you down.”

Bianca
     
    We head off back through the park. He walks with his head high, like he knows where he’s going. I watch him carefully, still waiting for the catch that will explain this anomaly. Who would be so stupid as to get involved with a vamp tramp?
    Assuming he knows what I really do.
    “Where are you taking me?” I ask.
    He turns to