I learned quickly how to lean into the turns and keep my balance on the behemoth bike. An initial ten minutes of fear melted into excitement and joy at the feel of the ride, but the excitement didn’t build my energy level. While I was pressed against Rune’s back, my excess energy simply melted into him. It was a different feeling than when he pulled energy from me. This was more of an unconscious ebb of my energy. A melding.
For the first half of the journey, I let my mind empty and enjoyed the sensations of vibration, rushing night air, and my body wrapped around Rune. But dark thoughts refused to be kept at bay for long.
The last few days crashed in on me. Flashes of Bob Smith, Dr. Sarkis, and Aunt Tibby intruded, accompanied by worry and fear in waves of panic that squeezed my lungs. I took a deep breath, hugged Rune tighter, and laid the side of my helmeted head on his back. The panic eased, and I managed to push through the fear and sort the events of the last few days.
How could I have been so stupid and trusting with Bob Smith? Was he my chat room buddy, Mike Williams? Or was it Dr. Sarkis who I’d been communicating with all this time? I had to face the fact that I had led them right to me—and Aunt Tibby. Aunt Tibby had successfully hidden for years, and I’d shown them right to her doorstep. A deep ache took up residence in my chest.
Rune reached down and patted my leg. He’d said that his powers were similar to mine. He could read emotions as well as thoughts. That comforted and frightened me. I’d spent my whole life alone because of this curse. Sharing emotions or anything else in my life didn’t come naturally.
I was still trying to sort out my plans when we arrived at the Big T truck stop. Adjacent to the highway, it was an obvious favorite of not only truckers but RVers and bikers. We pulled up to the almost-f motorcycle parking in the front, but at the last minute, Rune waved Griss off, and their Harleys roared around to a darker back area of the truck stop. Rune and Griss parked their motorcycles next to dumpsters near an open back entrance.
I got off the motorcycle and pulled off my helmet. The smell of the fetid garbage made my stomach churn, and I could feel dozens of small life signals that were probably rats within the immediate area.
“Why didn’t we park out front?” I said.
“Zamora’s Zion Riders,” Griss said. “The biggest pains in the ass on the road.”
“Why?”
Rune got off his motorcycle and took my hand in his. “They are Christians who are obsessed with fighting the occult. Some of them are seers and can sense our kind,” he said.
“So they know you’re vampires?” I said.
“Not necessarily, no,” Rune said. “But they know that we are different.”
Griss chuffed. “They either try to save us, exorcize us, or kill us. Holy water doesn’t hurt us, but it stains the leather.”
Rune and I followed Griss through the door into a back hallway of the truck stop that lead into the main grocery area. Bathrooms and pay shower stalls lined the hall. I stopped in front of the ladies room.
“I need to stop here,” I said.
Rune scanned the hall. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll be in the front. Would you like the usual?” He smiled.
“If you mean Gatorade or something like it, yes. Thank you.”
I shoved the ladies room door open and went inside. I chose the farthest stall, trying to distance myself from the busy shopping area down the hall. With my emotions in turmoil and without Rune siphoning off my excess, I already tingled with power and didn’t need any more.
As I sat there, someone entered the room. I peeked out the crack in the stall door and saw a blonde woman in riding leathers. Waves of high energy wafted from her. Her signature was identical to Darcy and Tweaks with the artificial taint of drugs. She chose the stall near the hall and latched the door.
I finished and stepped out to wash my hands. I was almost done when the woman, who must have been the fastest potty goer ever, walked out. She strode to a sink and squinted at herself in the mirror, pulling on her eyelids and looking at her eyes. She glanced at me and frowned as I reached for a towel.
Someone banged on the bathroom door and yelled, “Let’s go.”
I jumped and looked at the door. The woman grimaced. Our eyes met, and I quickly looked away from her pinpointed pupils back to my mirror.
“What?” she said.
I shook my head and tried to block her spike of energy and anger.
“You have a problem?” she asked.
I pulled towels from the dispenser, stood over a trashcan, and concentrated on drying my hands. She stepped toward me and animosity surged from her. The trashcan shot toward her, but I clamped down on my energy and it stopped after only two feet.
The woman jumped back then stalked toward me, calling me a name that would make a sailor blush. Her attitude, nasty feeling energy, and just generally the last few days flooded my psyche all at once, and I glared at her, letting all the malevolence and irritation overflowing my mind show on my face. She stopped. Something she saw wiped the anger off her expression and replaced it with caution. Her mouth opened and shut a few times in mute surprise. Finally regaining some semblance of thought, she turned and called me a bitch as she fled out the door.
I held my hand to my pounding heart and tried to catch my breath. A look in the mirror showed my bright, almost glowing, green eyes shining back at me from a pale face. The eyes were a little weird, but whatever had put the fear of God into the woman was gone. She and I were both lucky she hadn’t been hurt.
I’d been able to control an energy burst, and I’d stopped the trash can before it hit her. I’d felt the energy and pulled it back—it had obeyed to me. I tried to recreate what I’d done. I turned to the trash can and shoved it with power, then clinched the same spot in my mind I had a moment ago, and the trash can stopped. I did it two more times, and it worked. This was marvelous. I was gaining some modicum of control.
I left the bathroom in a cloud of happiness. I stopped short when I got a few feet outside the back door.
The woman from the bathroom stood with at least a dozen men standing beside gleaming motorcycles. They wore leather vests with flaming skulls stitched on the front left and on the back. The group exuded emotions and thoughts that were more primitive than the werewolves I’d left behind at the compound. Most of them had the same tainted, drug-induced energy as the girl.
“There she is.” The woman pointed at me. “The bitch threw a trashcan at me.”
I turned back to the door, but a barrel-shaped man with long, greasy hair slammed it and leaned against it. He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled.
I turned back to the woman.
“Listen,” I said. “I was just moving the trash can. I wasn’t trying to hit you. I’m sorry if you thought so.”
I thought of my father to shut down the sizzle racing through my system, but I was too scared to hold the thought well enough to block the blanket of erratic energy around me.
“Bullshit,” the woman said.
The man near her took a few sauntering steps toward me.
“We just can’t have people attacking one of our own.” He looked me up and down. “No matter how good they look.”
“Look,” I said, “this is a misunderstanding. My friends will be here any second. I’m sure we can work something out.”
The man looked at Rune and Griss’s polished Harleys parked a few feet from his own motorcycle. He chuffed.
“City bikes. City boys. They don’t have anything to say that’ll impress me.” He took a few more steps toward me. “Now, you on the other hand, you and me and the boys here might have a nice little conversation.”
The woman laughed behind him.
My skin tingled and my chest burned. Tears threatened along my eyelids. How could my nice, boring life have come to this? I couldn’t even go pee without causing havoc. One of the dumpster lids rattled.
The man in front of me nodded to the man by the door. “See who or what’s in that dumpster and kill it.”
The barrel-shaped man walked to the dumpster, lifted the lid and looked in.
“Nothing in here, Vic.” He let the lid drop again and resumed his post in front of the door.
Vic shrugged and took another step toward me. A swirling ball burned behind my breastbone, and it took every bit of my concentration to keep it there. A small burst shot from the top of my head into the night sky.
“Look, Vic,” I said. “Please leave me alone. I don’t want to hurt anybody.”
He and his men laughed.
“Oh that’s good,” he said. “Quite the humanitarian, huh guys?”
He advanced further until he stood inches away. The smell of sweaty leather crept its way into my nose. I clamped down on myself a little tighter. I would not kill anyone else. Not that I wouldn’t mind hurting these people a little, but I didn’t know if my abilities knew the fine line between the two.
I thought Rune’s name. I formed an image of him in my mind and pushed it toward the door in a burst of energy. I saw the man leaning against the door shift slightly and swat at something.
I formed the image again and pushed a larger burst of energy. The man at the door jumped and looked around.
“Shit. That hurt. What the hell was that?” he said.
“That,” I said, looking into Vic’s eyes, “is what I was talking about.”
The back door burst off its hinges. The barrel-shaped man flew through the air like trash in a heavy wind. Rune and Griss appeared beside me. The pack of startled bikers recovered quickly and advanced.
“Try to appear human,” Rune said softly to Griss. “And try not to kill anyone.”
“Oh, like that’s any fun,” Griss said.
Rune put a hand on my shoulder and drew off some of my energy. A soft glow lit his eyes. Griss looked at Rune’s eyes, then grabbed my elbow for a few seconds and his own eyes flared. He let go and smiled.
“Shit howdy,” he shouted. He leaped through the air onto Vic and five other bikers immediately jumped him.
Rune and Griss moved with more than human speed but less than the lightening-fast vampire speed I’d seen them use before. A wicked smiled split Griss’s bushy red beard as he punched attackers. Every few seconds, he’d yell and spin out a kick to someone’s head.
Even though Rune wasn’t whooping and grinning, I could tell he enjoyed fighting beside his friend.
I was all but forgotten by the men as they charged Rune and Griss, and that was fine by me. I backed away toward the mangled doorway of the truck stop. Half of the bikers were now on the ground. Blood flowed in copious amounts from wounds that mostly centered on their faces. As the blood increased, the feeling of the vampires changed. Griss flashed fangs when he shouted. Not a blatant show but they were there if you knew to look for them. A heaviness pulled at the air. The vampires’ lack of energy signal changed to a black hole pulling energy into them.
My attention froze on Rune. The lines of his handsome face sharpened, giving him a feral look. He kept his teeth more concealed than Griss, but there was no hiding his eyes. The irises glowed ice blue as they had before, but now the pupils shone black-red and dilated so wide they pushed the blue out so that no white showed.
Three more bikers fell into the human heap the vampires were creating. My back hit the door frame. I hadn’t realized I was still moving. As the blood on the ground increased, Rune and Griss’s humanity decreased. Sharp cheekbones jutted forward. Lips thinned into cruel parodies of smiles. Rune’s long, curly hair billowed away from his face on a nonexistent wind. A shirtless biker covered in blood from a head wound charged Rune and wrapped him in a bear hug. Rune’s mouth flashed open and his teeth struck the man’s neck. Griss descended on his attacker’s neck and kicked two more men unconscious as he fed.
Rune followed his victim to the ground, his teeth still embedded in the man’s throat. I gasped and tried to back away more, smacking my head against the metal door frame behind me. Rune’e eyes found mine and there was no recognition. Did that mean I was next? His looks and mannerisms had made it so easy to forget what he was. Now there was no trace of the man I’d known.
“Rune?” I heard the fear and sadness in my voice.
Recognition flitted across his face as he registered the horror I knew showed on mine. He dropped the man and stood, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked around. His eyes met mine again.
“No,” he said and raised his palm as if to stop my line of thinking.
A man blindsided him and they fell to the pavement.
I fled through the truck stop racing past shoppers and displays with nothing but escape in mind. Escape from vampires that hadn’t existed in my world a week ago. Escape from bikers and obsessed scientists. Escape from what my life had decayed into.
I burst through the front doorway, my breathing and heartbeat pounding in my ears. I ran through the parking lot, dodging trucks, truckers, still more bikers, motorcycles, and fuel pumps. I wove my way through parked trucks to the thick trees beyond and still I ran. My sobs echoed off the trees as I passed them. The light retreated. The trees became black pillars in murky grayness. Some instinct navigated my hurtling body around them. My chest burned. I gulped air and hacked it out.
The animal instinct I’d been running on ebbed. Logic fought for dominance, clawed its way to the surface and gained tenuous control.
Stop
, it whispered.
STOP
.
I slid to a halt.
Bent over, hands on thighs, I sucked in air and let my tears flow onto the ground. As senses thawed, bit-by-bit, the forest came to life around me. Wind, rustling, hoots, the natural energy of the trees and small lives blanketed me and brought a semblance of calm. My gasps changed to heavy breathing. Heavy breathing slowed to almost normal breath. I drug the back of my hand across my cheeks and flicked the tears away.
The animal sounds stopped. I stood. Movement in front of me.
Rune.
The darkness clung to him like a lover before releasing its hold, as he stepped out of the tree line. He stopped ten feet from me, hands at his sides, trying to seem unimposing. Yeah, right. My feet carried me back two steps without any encouragement.