(Do Not Read Back Up Copy)

Chapter IV

Hailey

I woke up to the world in watercolor—a concrete city canvas, bleeding together under a 90-degree sun.

Everything within thirty feet of me was still black or too blurry to recognize. I blinked again—my eyes still hazy and thick from the side effects of whatever I’d been slipped in the station. My arms and legs were discombobulated clusters of pins and needles, and I was warm, not from the heat, but from someone else’s body against mine. When the curve of Caleb’s neck came into focus, I wagered I had enough energy to bite him at the very least.

 “Jesus, Hailey!”

 For a second, I think I understood the gratification vampires got out of eating people from time to time. Caleb lost his balance for a second or two, but managed to continue walking towards what looked like a run down bus station about a block from where we were. If I had anything to do with it, he’d be a nineteen-year-old Van Gogh before he could whisk me out of Washington.

I bit him again, hard enough for his skin to spit new blood red all over his white collar. Before I could blink, he reached over his shoulder sent the width of his palm crashing into my face. I’ve never been attacked like that. Never.

Most sane people know you’re not supposed to hit a girl. Ever. Especially yours truly. But this idiot wasn’t like most people, and obviously wasn’t too strong in the intelligence department. He took advantage of how shocked I was, shook me off of his shoulders, and sat me down against a metal fence next to the sidewalk. I felt like a sunburned rag doll.

“Fuck you.”

I couldn’t have been more excited to be able to form words again.  Given my restored talents, plenty of curse words directed at Caleb rolled right off of my tongue and it felt beautiful. His stonewall stare wavered a little when he heard me.

I’d bet my trust fund on the fact that this guy was a softy. If I wore him down enough, I could probably talk him out of a kidnapping as easy as picking a lock. Getting into people’s heads isn’t all that different.

“Screaming at me isn’t going to fix anything, Hailey.”

I gave him a five star for that. Slapped him right across the face. He looked horrified at having been a two-time victim of my newfound violence. Watching Fight Club on repeat all those years hadn’t gone to waste after all. I tried my luck a third time, and he stopped me.

“You finished?”

His teeth were clamped so tightly even his spit couldn’t get through. I didn’t have the energy to keep up my charade.

 “For the time being.”

I would’ve been more resistant if I’d had the energy but I was so tired my head flopped backwards against the gate.

“Chill out for a minute. I'll knock you out myself if you do anything like that again.”

"So you're the wife-beating type? You don't look it."

I thought that was funny. He didn’t seem to share my sense of humor.

“I really don’t have time for this. We’ve gotta be in Manassas in an hour, and if you keep talking like this I’m—“

“Aren’t you supposed to keep your master plan a secret from the kidnapee?”

“Hailey—”

“Where’s your getaway car? Your goons? Weapons? Ransom note?”

 The best part about this situation was how much I was enjoying myself. He looked like he wanted to strangle me.

"I asked you to stop—”