It was just after midday when Vince drove into another town. By now what little sense of direction I possessed was fried. As we drove through the city, I noticed a lot of people having lunch outside the cafés, obviously lured out by the warm sun. It was mostly the elderly at this hour, and even the foot traffic was leisurely and relaxed.
The journey here had been fraught with tension. Vincent had been utterly silent, something which I intuited was uncharacteristic. Even now, as he slowed down, the summer sun did nothing to diffuse the arctic temperatures in the tinted car. I only took a cursory glance at the crowd outside - that is, until Vincent parked the car in a shady spot outside one of the cafés.
"What're you doing?" I asked in alarm.
"Feeding you," he replied, pulling on a cap before he stepped out.
What was wrong with him? Couldn't he see the crowd? "I don't want to be fed!"
He reached into the car and dragged me out, then pulled me to his side and marched me to a shady table. "That's another peculiarity with you - you never seem to want to eat," he hissed in my ear. "Still, you didn't have breakfast so you're having lunch whether you like it or not because I won't have you dying of starvation!"
"I'm sure you want all the credit for my death," I shot back.
He pulled out my chair, hissing, "Exactly!"
My heart skipped a beat and I felt utterly helpless. I plopped into the chair. He leaned closer to me, but I couldn't feel his cool breath as he whispered, "You're going to behave yourself. We'll keep playing the happy couple to slip under the radar. Got it?"
I looked around at the people here, having a good time. It felt like he'd taken them hostage. I couldn't cause a scene here. Who knew what would happen if he lost control? So far all he'd done was meant to piss off Warren and possibly Victor, but he hadn't tried to hurt me. He was mad now, however, and I didn't want to find out what he was capable of. He scared me more than I ever wanted him to know.
I nodded mutely. Once he was sure I agreed, he went round the table. A blond waitress spotted him, smiled and began to wend her way over. It still surprised me how easily Vincent caught women's attention - but then again, he had a magnetic aura around him that even Victor didn't possess. Somehow, girls were drawn to him like moths to a flame, and even their natural fear of him couldn't seem to stop them.
I turned to him. He was in the chair across from me, his grey eyes watching me closely. He was smiling, and I was almost sure his good humor was back. I took a breath and tucked my hair back, preparing myself. It was a good thing I'd discovered my acting skills because I needed them now. And then I took a moment to assess just how insane my situation was.
I was about to look death in the eye and flirt.
"Hello, I'm Sondra." The waitress had arrived and was now stealing glances at Vince. "What would you like to order?"
"Babe?" Vince prompted, his eyes soft.
"Um, I think I'll just have a chicken wrap with a side of fries and vanilla shake."
"Okay, and for you?"
"Nothing, I'm fine," he said, turning his full charm on her.
She blushed and giggled, "Okay, coming right up." She backed away, tripped over a chair leg and only just braced herself on a table. She fled, her face burning.
"Do you enjoy doing that?" I asked curiously.
His smile was sly now. "It has it's perks. Like when I need to feed. Are you sure you'll be okay with what you ordered? You don't need anything else?"
"Don't worry, it'll do. I'm not into getting stuffed."
"I've noticed."
"So you said."
Sondra returned with my order and made a fuss of placing it on the table - which Vince found amusing - then retreated. I started on my food, dropping my eyes because Vince's adoring gaze was a bit much.
"How can you even eat that stuff?" he mocked.
I looked up and was suddenly struck by an idea. "Eat with me."
"No thanks," he dismissed with a laugh. "I'm not touching that stuff."
"Come on! Please?" I pouted, enjoying myself completely. "You can't expect me to eat all this by myself."
"Honey, I'm good. I ate already, remember?"
"Just a little bit," I persisted.
"Belle -"
"You promised that I'd never have to do anything alone."
He looked around at the quizzical and adoring glances, and I had to keep myself from laughing. He knew he was beat, and he wasn't happy about it. Sighing, he picked up one of my fries and studied it.
"You dip it in there," I whispered helpfully.
He glared at me and I tried not to choke on my milkshake. He popped it into his mouth, chewed briefly and swallowed. "There, happy?"
"Blissful," I assured sweetly, and his glare could have skinned me. I laughed, then turned to my food contritely. I was soon done.
Once in the car, Vincent chuckled, then laughed outright as he drove. "You're such a troublemaker."
"Admit it; you loved it."
"Now that plant is stuck in my teeth," he groaned with an eye roll.
I stuck my tongue out at him. He laughed again, shaking his head, then fell silent. As we drove further away from town, my euphoria dissipated. I was still in a deadly position with a volatile vampire. I was only still alive because of the amulet. I wondered what I'd do when we got to San Francisco, then sighed, wishing Warren was with me.
***
We drove into the city around sunset. Vincent pulled over at a line of boutiques. "Okay, wait here."
"Why, where're you going?"
"I need to get you clothes, remember? I won't be a minute."
As he got out, I remembered his threat involving a négligé... I followed him out. "There's no way I'm trusting you with that."
"Didn't I tell you to wait in the car?"
"This is my shopping trip," I argued.
"Were you born this stubborn, or is it a skill you acquired?"
"Can we just do this?" I retorted, leading the way into the nearest shop.
Vincent headed straight for a tiny red top with some glitzy logo on its sleeve, and pulled out a short denim skirt to go with it. "This'll do."
"You're joking. I don't do skirts, and do I look like the kind of girl to wear such a top?"
He laughed. "I have the weirdest feeling," he mused. "It's like you remind me of someone."
I picked out a pair of distressed black jeans. "See, these are perfect."
"Fine, but the top stays. No buts," he added as I started to protest.
I huffed. "Fine, but I'm choosing my own shoes." I saw a rack of shoes and headed there.
"And you need a new jacket."
"No!" That was too sharp. I spun round, my hands instinctively going into my pocket as I tried to slow down my heart rate. "I like my jacket."
"Yeah, but this one goes with your jeans," he pointed out, holding it up for inspection.
Of course he had to be capable of matching. I rolled my eyes. "Does it have pockets?"
"Why're you so shy?" he asked softly. "Every time something happens, you put your hands in your pockets."
"It's not because I'm shy," I corrected, then turned away so he couldn't see the guilt in my eyes. "I just keep having to avoid hitting you."
He laughed again and I studied the shoes. I was a sneakers kind of girl, but a pair of low black ankle boots caught my attention. They went with the look. "So much spirit!" he grinned. "Guess I'm safe. It's got girly pockets."
I went and inspected it. "Okay, then."
Next, we went to the night clothes section. I impatiently rifled through assorted nighties and pyjamas with strawberries or cartoon characters on them, then rolled my eyes. "There's nothing for me here. C'mon."
"What about this?" he asked, holding up a nightie with a print of Elsa from Frozen.
"What am I, three?"
He laughed again and let me drag him to the counter. When we put the bags in the car, he took me down the street in search of night clothes. By this point I'm sure he was just having fun trying to find out what I'd actually choose.
We passed a shop window with mannequins in barely-there nighties and Vince stopped. "How about here?"
"They probably only sell Victoria's Secret," I dismissed. "C'mon."
He didn't budge. He was watching me with a wicked grin. "And what's wrong with that?"
"You mean besides the fact that it's glorified bits of string?" I asked, making him laugh. "It's too expensive."
He followed me, still chuckling. I finally chanced on a little corner shop, and happened on them almost instantly. "These will do," I smiled, picking out a pair of oversized granny-style pyjamas.
"No " he said firmly, grabbing them and putting them back. At my shocked look, he went on, "You already wear jeans all the time. Give your legs a break."
I huffed. A bit more browsing unearthed a long, billowy white nightie. "Perfect."
"Are you serious?" he laughed.
"No pants," I pointed out smugly.
"It's a glorified potato sack," he protested, still laughing.
"Exactly."
"You're weird." He was smiling, though, so I took it as a compliment.
"Thank you."
We bought it and left the shop. His good humor suddenly disappeared. "Uh-oh. C'mon!"
"Wha-" I turned to the street a second before he pulled me away.
That split second was enough for me to see a man connect with a car bonnet. There was a sickening thud, then the man flew as the car stopped.
And then I was in an alley with Vince pinning both my arms against the wall. In the silence between us, I stared at him in shock. My ragged breathing was the only sound I could hear.
"Is he...dead?" I asked weakly.
"No, but if we stay here he will be," he said grimly. "You okay to walk?"
I nodded, still shaken. He held my hand and led me down the alley to the other street. I soon regained myself and finally understood his words. I pulled my hand back, shoved them both in my pockets. "Did you mean that you could have killed him?"
"If he'd bled," he confirmed, then ranted, "I don't understand you humans! You fear your own creations, simple machinery that you're fully in control of, that has no killing nature. And yet creatures like me, born killers with an instinctive desire to spill blood, you call myths and legends and ignore! It's ridiculous!"
I thought it through, trying to understand our reasoning. I tucked my hair back nervously and suggested, "Maybe it's cause we found a way to kill you."
Vincent suddenly caught my hand. I froze, but he only pressed my open palm to his chest. "Feel that? Nothing." He let go and I instantly tucked my hand into my pocket. "And even if I had a heart, I defy anyone to drive a wooden stake through that!" He was laughing now. "And silver bullets and holy water? How pathetic is that? And yet you consider yourselves the most intelligent species on the planet! Such arrogance!"
As I watched him go round the car, I realised that I had no way to argue with that. Which just goes to show that I'm not a good advocate for the human race. "Yeah, I bet you think you're much better." I mumbled as I got in.
"It ain't bragging if you can back it up," he grinned with a wink, and I rolled my eyes.
He drove us to a hotel and, as he got out of the car, I balked. The throng outside... I was getting dizzy just watching.
Vince opened my door and stood leaning on it, his eyes amused. "Come now, love. We've come this far."
Wow, he almost sounded like Warren. "I... I can't," I stammered, glued to my seat.
"What's wrong this time?"
"It's crowded," I moaned.
He frowned. "It's always like this." Sighing, he reached in and unstrapped my seatbelt, then got me out of the car. "I'll be right back. I have to go park my car."
I was momentarily distracted. "Isn't that what valets are for?" Had I gotten all those movies wrong?
"No one can park my car, beautiful," he smirked, then his look turned introspective. "Except maybe you." He snapped out of it and smiled again. "Anyway, I'll only be a minute."
He drove off, leaving me alone on the sidewalk. I stood there, running a hand through my hair and trying not to panic. Somewhere along the line, I'd developed a phobia for crowds. And now, as people passed me disinterestedly, I felt insignificant. In this sea of people minding their own business, I felt like I was becoming invisible, like I could scream at the top of my voice and no one would hear me...
Vincent took my arm and propelled me inside. "Miss me?"
I didn't say anything - I was too busy being grateful for this little tradition he seemed to have formed. Inside, the place was as elegant as expected. Okay, if I had my movies right the guy with the bags was a porter and the big guy behind the counter was...the maître d? What did that even mean? Vincent took me there and we received a wide grin and a warm welcome.
"Hi. The room under Vincent Blake, please."
"Yes, of course," he cooed, tapping delicately at his computer. "And here we are. Suite 302."
Vincent took the key and, refusing the aid of a porter, took me into the elevator.
"Blake?" I queried.
"After a couple hundred years, you kinda enjoy having aliases," he grinned.
I followed him to our suite. "Doesn't it get old? The whole 'alive forever' thing?"
"After a while you view time differently," he shrugged. He went and put the bags on the bed then went to the window, nudged the drapes open and stood staring out at the night lights.
I looked around me at the huge bed with the gold covers and the rich red rug. Why did the blend of gold and crimson remind me of blood? I stood listlessly wondering what to do next.
"Are you sure you're human?"
I looked up at the sudden question. Vincent was still staring out the window, but now I noticed that he was brooding. "Huh?"
He sighed and closed his eyes for a minute, then came over to me. I blinked, then my eyes widened as he came and stood right in front of me. "See? You aren't even afraid of me," he complained. When I said nothing - mainly because I was confused - he suggested, "Aren't you going to sit down?"
I went round the bed, still eyeing it warily, then sighed and clambered onto it. Once in the center, I furrowed back among the pillows, watching him.
Vincent sat at the foot of the bed. Once he was sure I wasn't moving anymore, he pleaded, "And please tell me, why do you keep Victor's secret?"
"I already told you," I defended.
"You haven't explained why you're loyal to him."
"He's my best friend," I shrugged.
"So you encourage it," he laughed.
"What?"
"This affection between you two. He actually thinks he's in love with you."
I stared, my mouth dry. "He is?"
"No, no," Vincent waved off with another laugh. "He can't, not really. You're basically a pet to him."
I thought it through. "Well, if that's what makes him happy, I'll take it." I glared daggers at him. "After all, he didn't ask to be what he is. We have you to thank for that."
"What I don't understand is how you can be so considerate of him and yet so quick to judge me!" he suddenly burst out.
I frowned, bewildered, and ventured, "You...want me to understand you?"
His eyes suddenly turned a soft, misty gray, with just a hint of pink, taking on a haunted quality for a half second. He turned away and the hand on his knee fisted.
I'd never seen him lose control over his eye color like this. I rolled my eyes. "Okay, spill it. What happened to you? How'd you become...you?"
He laughed softly, still avoiding my eyes. "You know, I just realised I never told anyone this before. I'm not sure where to start."
"How about background?" I suggested. "What you were like before, and how that changed."
"Okay, well go back to 1897."
"Crap!" I breathed. "You guys are ancient!" At his look, I said, "Okay, okay. Go on."