To Honor: Vampire Assassin League #22 by Jackie Ivie

Uncluttered. She probably should have purchased a timeshare. It would have been more economical. Larger. And maybe, if somebody lived in it week by week, it would feel welcoming. Not disused and lonely. On second thought...no. Her place was prime real estate. Next to the tea company. It was a good investment. She got a few weeks of use out of it every year, too. The views were spectacular. The lifestyle, unfettered and healthy. It was the perfect place to work through what had happened.
    Until the sun rose.
    Somebody should have informed her that being with a vampire turned sunbeams into daggers of sheer agony. She owned a corner apartment with mountain views. That became a deficit the first morning. It had only taken seconds, but she’d suffered sun blisters before she’d pulled the blinds down. Agony had pierced her head. She’d been blinded by light that had screamed through her eye sockets. For a span, she’d worried it was permanent. Somebody should have mentioned that the lore about vampires and sunlight was accurate.
    Somebody should have been forthcoming about a lot of things.
    Like...food.
    She had two items she could get down. Barely-seared red meat. And absolutely raw red meat. Both were in plentiful supply in her deep freeze. Both should have gagged her. Nope . Anything and everything else she tried to eat had that reflex. Then there was the change in her senses. All of them. Everything was elevated. Her sight. Smell. Hearing. She could hear every single word spoken by her neighbors. Through the walls. Through the ceiling and floor. Heck. She could hear conversations outside if she concentrated.
    She was an alien in her own life. Everything was foreign. And very lonely. Achingly isolated. Solitary. Her thoughts were so filled with Takeshi, every heartbeat carried an echo. And sometimes, she’d felt him so close, she’d slapped on light switches throughout the condo, checking for him. It had been stupid. He was never there. She’d told herself she didn’t want him to be.
    And then she admitted the truth. Despite everything. He’d gotten through her personal wall. She was bereft without him.
    And she knew it.
    That’s why she’d spent the week holed up in her condo. It wasn’t because she was hiding from responsibility, although her boss probably thought so. She hadn’t checked in with anyone. She hadn’t answered the phone. Fired up the internet. She hadn’t gone anywhere except for tonight. To one all-night drug store. On a quick trip that was turning into a quest.
    She had two positive pregnancy results and one negative. Nothing definite. And she needed to be sure.
    Christine fired up the engine. Watched the wiper blades clear off a thick layer of snow. She’d been sitting here that long? Figures. Snow had started falling after she’d left Boulder. It had dropped almost twenty degrees, too. Well. She had two options. She could go home. But where was that, anymore? Or she could continue her quest. There were more cities along the Front Range. She decided to buy at least one more kit. Do another test. If it was positive...that was that. Game over.
    Loveland was almost deserted. What did she expect? It was after midnight. No other shoppers at the quick market. The cashier looked askance at her over the purchase. His cheeks were pulled in as he bagged it, especially when she asked for the restroom key. Christine blushed despite trying not to. She told herself to ignore him. He didn’t know anything. It wasn’t his business. It wasn’t anyone’s business. That included data collectors on the end of every wireless transaction. She was using cash. No one would ever know about this. This is why she’d raided her stash, grabbed the bills secured in a plastic bag and tucked in with the laundry dryer sheets, and drove in the middle of the night through a snowstorm.
    Negative.
    The fourth test was negative. Christine sagged against the restroom wall, checking and re-checking the little stick. Relief