Part 11 (2/2)
”Shut up.” I pushed him back, my anger filling me like a tornado. ”You don't know. You don't know what this is like. How hard this is.”
He gripped my upper arms to keep me still and stared into my eyes. ”I do know, Salem. I had to do the same thing. Two years ago I had to leave my home and my family and my life behind. It sucks, but you have to do it. It's the best thing for everyone involved.”
A fresh brew of tears trickled down my face and I had to suck in several breaths to keep from sobbing. Instead, I leaned against Trevor and wrapped my arms around him. I needed something solid to hold onto. To his chagrin, he was the closest thing I could find.
After a few more moments of my crying, he patted me on the back. ”You're tough. You'll get through this.”
”How do you know I'm tough? Maybe I'm just a big blob of emotional goo,” I managed to say between sniffles.
Grabbing my upper arms he pushed me back, enough so that he could look into my face. ”Nah, I didn't peg you for an emotional blob, irrational fleshy ma.s.s maybe.”
That made my lips twitch. And I dropped my arms and took a step away from him. Wet spots dotted his t-s.h.i.+rt. I chewed on my bottom lip. ”Sorry about your s.h.i.+rt.”
He glanced down then shrugged. ”Don't worry about it. It'll dry.”
We stared at each other for a few awkward seconds. Trevor cleared his throat. ”We should go.”
I nodded, then taking my backpack I added to the clothes he'd already packed with my iPod, a pair of runners, and a couple of hoodies. I glanced at all the personals on top of my dresser. I grabbed my deodorant, and was reaching for a box of tampons when Trevor shook his head.
”As far as I can tell you won't need those anymore.”
I s.n.a.t.c.hed my hand back from the box.
He shrugged. ”Incubi and succubi don't reproduce normally. We are the result of that abnormality. And we won't be able to reproduce either.”
”Oh. Okay.” I didn't think I wanted to know how he knew that. I tossed in my favorite facial cleanser and my favorite tube of cherry flavored chapstick, and then zipped the bag up. Once I slung it over my shoulder, I nodded to Trevor. ”I guess I'm ready to go.”
”Okay, we'll head to my place first.” He went to the door, made sure it was shut, then flicked off the light. Holding out his hand to me, he moved towards the deep shadows we'd traveled through. ”We can get a few hours of sleep before the band moves again.”
”Can we leave the old fas.h.i.+oned way?” I gestured toward the bedroom window. ”I really need a break from more weirdness at least for another half hour or so.”
He glanced at the window then back to me. He shrugged. ”I guess.” He went to the window and drew it up, swinging his leg out.
I moved to follow but then turned back and surveyed the room. I was going to miss it. I realized it was just stuff. But it was my stuff. Things my mom had given me, things I'd bought for myself with my first paycheck from Starbucks. Useless trinkets I'd treasured when I was a kid, and expensive baubles I coveted as a teen. I suppose where I was going I wouldn't need any of it.
Before I jumped out the window, I shoved my pillows under the blankets and pulled them up. From a distance it would look like I was buried deep in my covers sawing some major logs. If my mom checked on me, I didn't think she'd suspect anything. Not until morning, when I didn't wake up for breakfast. Sunday was crepe day, my mom's specialty. I loved crepes with huge dollops of syrup and fresh strawberries.
My stomach growled in response, but I pushed it down and walked to the window. Trevor had already jumped out. I dropped my pack to him waiting on the ground, and then followed it out. The drop was easy since we lived in a bungalow. I landed, took my pack from Trevor and was walking down the drive all without breaking my stride. Now that I was out, I didn't want to dawdle. There was no point in dwelling on leaving. It would only make it that more difficult to do.
We made our way down the drive to the curb. I glanced over my shoulder one last time toward the welcoming light in the window of the living room where I knew my mom was probably finis.h.i.+ng watching a movie before stepping out onto the street. I don't know how I missed it, because it wasn't like it was a small thing, but I ended up kicking the metal trash can that I'd forgotten to drag back up to the house last Wednesday. It fell onto its side, clanging and ringing like a bell tower as it went.
A shape materialized in the front window. It was mom checking things out.
Trevor grabbed me around the waist, picked me up, and catapulted us into a black line of shadows along the hedge separating our yard from the neighbors. I didn't have time to protest before we were sucked down into the darkness.
Chapter 15.
The last place I expected to materialize into was a large, tastefully decorated hotel room, but that's exactly where we ended up.
I spun in a circle taking in the small kitchenette, sofa, coffee table and flat screen LCD TV on the wall. Below it was a stereo unit and game console. ”This is where you live?”
”Today it is.”
I wandered to the balcony window and looked out at the city skyline. I didn't recognize the skysc.r.a.pers surrounding the hotel. ”Where exactly are we?”
”Seattle. The band plays a gig tomorrow night. After that it's up to Vancouver.” Trevor wandered into the small kitchen area, and opened the compact refrigerator. ”Do you want a soda or something?”
”Yeah, sure.” I dropped my backpack onto the sofa, then sat down beside it.
He came over, handed me a can of Dr. Pepper, then, popping the top of his own, collapsed in the big armchair, taking a swig as he settled in.
I popped the tab and took a long drink. The soda bubbled on the way down and settled like a boiling pit of lava in my turbulent stomach. A loud gurgling erupted from inside. I blushed embarra.s.sed by it.
”I'm hungry,” he said, I'm sure to mask the embarra.s.sing situation, as he picked up the phone on the table. ”Do you want something from room service?”
I nodded, the popcorn I'd consumed long forgotten.
He pushed a couple of b.u.t.tons on the dial pad. ”Pizza okay?”
”Yeah, that's cool.”
”Can I get a large pizza loaded, with extra cheese,” he said into the phone. ”Thanks.” He hung up, took a swig of his soda then looked at me as if he had a question. But instead he took another drink, then stood to turn on the TV and game console. Grabbing one of the controllers, he settled back into the armchair. ”Do you want to play?”
”Yeah, why not?”
He handed me the other controller and we played Resident Evil in silence for the next half hour before the food came. When the knock came at the door, Trevor got up, opened it and grabbed the pizza. He brought it over to the sofa, and set it down onto the coffee table, opening the top as he did. The spicy aroma of tomato sauce and oregano wafted to my nose. I inhaled deeply, my stomach growled in response.
I took a slice. When I bit into it, I sighed. The taste was heavenly. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until the food slid down my throat and hit my stomach. I gobbled it up in three big bites, then took another. Trevor was just finis.h.i.+ng his first slice when I was shoving the last of my second into my mouth.
After swallowing, I said, ”I didn't realize how hungry I was until now.”
Trevor folded the rest of his pizza in half. ”Sliding through shadows takes a lot of energy. You'll find you'll be hungrier more often.” He shoved the rest of his pizza in his mouth.
As I munched on my third piece, a mult.i.tude of questions whizzed by in my mind. How had Trevor ended up like this? Why was he helping me? How did he end up being a roadie for Malice? And the kicker, why was he h.e.l.l bent on killing them? But I didn't have the heart or the guts to ask any of them. I was too exhausted to do much of anything. Except sleep.
Thinking about sleep, I yawned, trying to cover it with my hand.
Trevor nodded toward the open door. ”You can sleep in the bedroom. I'll stretch out on the sofa.”
”Okay.” I stood, and taking my backpack I wandered to the bedroom. Before I went through the door, I looked over my shoulder at him. ”Trevor, everything's going to be okay, right? I mean, I'm not going to morph into something disgusting, am I?”
When he met my gaze I could feel the intensity of it, as if he were boring into me. But there was also something else in his eyes, interest maybe, empathy definitely. ”Get some sleep. We'll figure things out in the morning.”
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