The Vampire's Fall. Michele HaufЧитать онлайн книгу.
ignition. When Blade’s headlights blinked on and slowly drove past the other man’s truck, she made a snap decision and shifted the truck into gear.
Zenia woke with her name zinging between her ears. Except it wasn’t the way she had chosen it. Blade had called her Zen last night. She liked it. It sounded like the man had made the name his possession when he’d said it. And that didn’t bother her at all.
But did she feel Zen right now? Hard to tell. She wasn’t sure what to feel. She was a woman out of place. Did she have a place to return? Was there a house or an apartment waiting for her to push a key into the lock and resume her life? She hadn’t a key, a purse or any identifying materials on her after the bus had hit her.
Only that weird tin circle.
She glanced at the flimsy circle she’d hung around the rearview mirror. She’d been clutching it after coming to a stand against the street pole. In that moment, she’d almost tossed it aside, but she’d felt an intuition to keep it. For some reason. Curious.
Had it anything to do with the destiny she felt she tread? For the undeniable feeling that contacting the police would not be wise? Was it a true feeling or was it that she thought she should have a goal or reason for existing so destiny was a good fill-in-the-blank answer?
Sitting up, she pulled her knees to her chest and bowed her head to work out the kinks from sleeping across the stick shift. A knock on the driver’s window startled her. A swath of dark hair reminded her that she’d had the audacity to follow a complete stranger out to his property last night. She’d parked at the end of the driveway closest to the highway just in case she’d needed to make a quick getaway. He’d been good to his word. Hadn’t bothered her.
Until now.
Zen hit the window control and lowered the glass. The scent of steaming coffee wafted into the truck interior. Never had anything smelled so good.
Blade handed in a black mug. Steam rose from the liquid surface. “Just brewed it. Extradark. Hope you take it that way.”
She’d take any offering of food or drink no matter the strength or weakness. Thank goodness he’d paid for her beer last night. That left her twenty dollars in her pocket—left over from selling raspberries—and a half-full gas tank. It was terrible not to know who she was. But not having the funds to rent a room or pay for a hot meal? She would have to look into that home for amnesiacs he’d mentioned if she didn’t figure her life out, and fast.
“Thank you.” She sipped the brew. It kicked her. Hard. “Whew!”
“It’s called Death Brew for a reason,” Blade offered. “Have a good night’s sleep?”
She shrugged. No one named Brock had tried to break in and attack her, so she figured that was as good as it got.
“Here’s the deal,” Blade said. “I’m heading into town in an hour. Got some work to do for a couple of nuns. If you want, you’re welcome to use my shower before I leave.”
“Really?” She hadn’t showered in days. Had begun to wonder if her hair would ever see a comb again. “I’d like that.”
“Cool. Just me and Oogie live out here in the barn. If my cat likes you, I like you.”
“Then here’s hoping I pass the cat test.”
* * *
The eerie, hairless black cat hissed and arched its back as Zenia landed at the top of the stairs leading to the loft level of the big barn. The lower level was a wide-open garage littered with vehicles in all states of repair. This was the living quarters. Vast and open, it felt modern and airy, not at all barnlike.
Blade, who had led her up the stairs and directed her to the left for the bathroom, peered out from around the stainless-steel fridge at his cat, which was poised on the back of a green-and-blue-plaid couch. Blade glanced at Zenia, who had frozen at the top of the stairs, clinging to the backpack strap she’d tossed over her shoulder. Then he eyed the cat, who had arched up its back so high Zenia thought it might fold in half.
“Guess I failed the cat test,” she offered.
“Oogie?” Blade knelt and called to the cat. “What’s wrong, buddy?” He tilted his head at her and she felt as if his look peeled back her layers and zoomed right to her oozy core.
If only it were so easy to learn who she was.
“Who are you?” he asked. Yet again.
And yet again, she had no clear answer.
The cat leaped into his arms, and the man stood, stroking its wrinkled suede-like head. “Oogie likes everyone.”
“Obviously I’m not everyone. And that’s the big question, isn’t it?” She rubbed her arms, though she wasn’t cold, just frustrated. And it had taken a cat to nail that frustration to the wall. “Who am I?”
The cat hissed at her.
Zenia flinched. “Uh, do you want me to leave?”
“No. Shower’s that way.” He nodded toward the hallway. “Oogie and I will talk. You have to walk through the bedroom,” he called as Zenia made her way down a short hallway. “You’ll see the bathroom door once you get in there.”
Overlooking the cat’s defensive reaction, she glided into a dark room that was lit by the sunlight beaming through a window set into the slanted roof.
Her gaze swept over the unmade bed. Black rumpled bed sheets. Cozy, in a manly way. Beneath her flip-flops, the floorboards were wide unbleached timber, as were the walls and slanted ceiling. Overall, a darkly clean, yet rustic decor. Just like the man.
And yet, he’d sweetly cuddled that ugly cat. Surprising to see such a big, intimidating man handle a tiny beast so gently.
Veering into the attached bathroom, Zenia was thankful it wasn’t all black. In fact, bright white tiles decorated the floor and walls, and though small, the gleaming shower looked inviting through the clear glass door.
She closed the bathroom door and set down the backpack. She’d raided a clothing donation box one night and found a sack of folded clothes that didn’t smell. Freshly washed? She could hope. And they’d fit, so she’d taken the whole bag and the canvas backpack that had been stuffed under a pile of smelly gym shoes.
Stripping off her clothes, she caught her reflection in the small shaving mirror above the sink. It was too small to see her whole face so she bobbed to get a view of her condition. Her hair begged a good combing and dark shadows curved under her eyes. She so needed a good night’s sleep and...to know.
“Who are you?” she repeated Blade’s question to her reflection. “And why the hell were you able to walk away after being hit by a freakin’ bus?”
She’d sensed his utter astonishment when she’d told him that. At the time she hadn’t thought anything of it. Could have been the adrenaline racing through her system. Shouldn’t she have a broken bone or even come away with a bruise or gash? She’d not even bled!
But instead of panicking, she’d been thankful. And that was about all she could do, wasn’t it? Live day to day, grateful that she had clothing and a vehicle.
Stepping into the shower, she adjusted the water temperature and said thanks for the kindness of strangers. And then she had the thought that she should have locked the bathroom door behind her.
* * *
Blade stood outside the bathroom door, his fingers glancing over the clear glass knob. On his bed sat his pet of thirteen years, the feline’s hairless black ears tilted backward and gold eyes wide. Oogie generally liked people. Though, he did tend to get his hackles up when demons were around. Full-blooded demons. Recognizing the mimicus breed of demon that could mimic other species had given Oogie trouble.