Neither (2 page)

Ava stirs in her sleep, her brow crinkling, as if she is worried about something. I take my fingers and smooth it. At my touch, it disappears. We will deal with tomorrow when tomorrow comes.

Two

Brooke

I should have known Ivan was bad news. He had that look about him, and it wasn't just the leather jacket. It was the whole package. He looked like the kind of guy who would lean against the outside of a bar, smoking and looking for trouble.

The first time I saw him, I'd snuck out of the house to go down to hang out with some people at the railroad tracks. Mom and her latest loser were sacked out on the couch, empty beer cans scattered around them. Big shocker.

I didn't even have to sneak to get out of the house. They were both snoring like grizzly bears as I shut the front door. It was chilly for May, the summer not having set in yet. Why couldn't I live in Florida instead of in the ass crack of northern New Hampshire?

I walked down the sidewalk, dodging streetlights, my hands in my pockets. In one I carried a small knife.

You could never be too careful.

My phone buzzed, but I didn't answer it. I knew without looking at it that it was Cara. Probably wondering where the hell I was and asking me if I had any weed. She knew I didn't, but that never stopped her from asking. I never brought the stuff into my house because I knew Mom and the loser would find it and smoke it, even if they didn't know what it was. Instead of getting calm, my mom got paranoid on pot, and I really didn't want to deal with that on top of everything else.

I wondered if Dillon would be there. I hoped he would. I'd had a crush on him for at least six months and I hadn't made my move yet. He was always flirting and kidding with me, and I could never tell if it could be more. I wanted it to be.

My thoughts were those of a typical sixteen-year-old as I walked to my death. Well, not exactly. It was more complicated than that. Just bear with me.

“Hello there,” a voice said in the darkness. My eyes whipped around, and my hand clenched my knife. No one was going to attack me.

He stepped into the streetlight and I almost gasped. He was the best-looking thug I'd ever seen. His blond hair sparkled under the harsh yellow light, and he smiled at me as if we were old friends.

“Where is a sweet blossom like you going on a night like this?” He had a British accent. I'd never met someone who spoke like that before. You didn't get a lot of them in my tiny northern town. It was mostly locals who had been born here and would die here.

“Leave me alone,” I said and kept walking, but he darted in front of me so fast, I couldn't get past him. I tried again, but he was quick. He laughed at me, a sound that was unpleasant and I knew promised of something worse.

“Leave me alone,” I said as a final warning. He was asking for a swift kick in the balls, or worse, if he didn't let me walk by.

“Reckless, I like that,” he said, grabbing my arm that held the knife. His grip was so tight I couldn't do anything. I struggled anyway.

“Let me go.”

He turned his head to the side, puzzled. He really was good-looking. Given other circumstances, I would have checked him out.

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

I tried to twist out of his iron grip. Fear settled heavily on me. I didn't get scared. I channeled my fear into action. Fear was a wasted emotion, or so I'd thought. Now it raced through me like acid, eating away everything else and leaving only it behind.

“You remind me of someone,” he said. He wouldn't let go of my arm, and the harder I struggled, the tighter he held me. I stopped struggling. Maybe I could take him by surprise. “A girl I once knew.”

He talked in an odd way. Old-fashioned. He couldn't have been more than twenty, so that sent up even more red flags. I glanced around, desperate for anything. My knife was useless, since he had the arm that I would have used it with under his power. I swung a punch at his nose, but he moved his head out of the way with lightning speed.

“She tried to punch me the first time we met, too. What's your name?”

“Brooke,” I said through gritted teeth. My arm was going numb, and I still hadn't found a weakness in him. Everyone had one. I just had to find it.

“Brooke, I'm Ivan. Nice to meet you.”

“It has been nice talking to you and all, but can you let go of my effing arm?”

He looked down at his hand that held my arm as if he'd forgotten about it. He released me, and I tried to run, but he dived in front of me, grabbing my shoulders and holding me still. I went for his family jewels, but he moved again. Who was this guy?

“What do you want with me?”

“I haven't figured that out yet,” he said, and panic replaced the fear in my blood. “Would you come somewhere with me, Brooke?”

“Hell, no.” Like I had a choice.

“I am going to ask you nicely if you will come somewhere with me. You can make this easy or hard. You pick.”

I'd tried everything. Maybe lulling him into a false sense of trust was my next best move. It was worth a shot.

“Okay.”

He nodded and started walking. I thought about running, but even though I was fast, he was faster. I started following him, which was the stupidest thing I'd ever done in my life, and I'd done a lot of stupid things. Troubled kid and all that.

“Are you coming?” He turned and walked backward, grinning at me. He had one of those smiles that promised trouble. With a capital T. What had I gotten myself into?

“You're not from around here, are you?” As I said, nearly everyone in Hartsville, New Hampshire had been born and lived here their whole lives. Strange guys didn't just show up.

“No, I am not. The accent gives it away, doesn't it?” Well, duh. “I am from a little town in England you've never heard of.”

He veered around a house and out into the woods. I hesitated at the tree line, knowing that if I crossed it, something bad was going to happen. Deciding freedom was worth one last shot, I went for the house. Maybe someone would take pity on a girl being attacked in the middle of the night. I never made it to the porch. The world went out from under me as he threw me over his shoulder.

“I like you, Brooke. I really do. But I don't want you to make this difficult for me. I've already been quite nice.” He slapped my ass and I screamed in frustration.

I figured what the hell and start pounding on his back, kicking and screaming for help. I was sure most people were asleep in bed, but maybe someone would hear me.

“Stop screaming, no one is going to hear you.” With a swift movement I had no idea how he accomplished, he flipped me over and covered my mouth with his hand. His skin was cool to the touch and felt strange. That wasn't the most important thing to focus on, but it was another thing that added to the insanity of this moment.

His front was pressed to my back, and I tried to move, or gain some leverage or something.

“You've got fight, I'll give you that.”

With another flip of his hands, he had me over his back and was running. No, he wasn't running. He was flying. His feet made no sound as they touched down briefly. Leaves, branches and trees spun past me, and all the blood rushed to my head. I was going to pass out any moment, and then he set me down. My knees buckled and I fell onto a carpet of leaves. We were deep, deep, deep in the woods. I was absolutely screwed.

“I thought this would be more private, don't you think?”

“What do you want?” I hoped he just wanted to rape me and leave me. That would be the best-case scenario. He'd said he didn't know, but he definitely did.

“Mostly your blood. I haven't decided on anything else yet.”

“My blood?” Jesus, this was the end. He was some sort of lunatic that was going to drain my body for some sort of ritual that the people in his head had told him he had to do. Some hiker would find my body in the woods in a few months. My mother would just assume I had run away, and that would be the end of me.

“You see, love, I am a vampire.”

“You're a vampire?” I couldn't help the sarcasm that dripped from my voice. I had no filter, even when my life was on the line.

“It's what you humans have come to think of my kind as. I don't know why I'm telling you this.” He shook his head and looked at the moon that dripped down through the trees. It was full and bright, almost bright enough to read by.

“Please let me go. I won't tell anyone, I swear.” I still hadn't been able to get off the ground.

“Don't worry, love.” He crouched down in front of me and I flinched back. He cupped my face with one hand. “Tell me something about you. Anything.”

“What do you want me to tell you?” What did he want with me? That was what I needed to know.

“Anything.” He tipped his head to the side, as if I was a painting he was studying to try and find the meaning of. I heard somewhere once about a girl who was kidnapped and gained the trust of her captor. Maybe if he had sympathy, or felt like he had something in common with me, he'd let me go.

Just maybe.

I said the first thing that came to my mind.

“I hate my mother. I know you're supposed to love her and all, and I probably do, deep, deep down. But honestly, you'd have to dig really deep to find it. I can't remember the last time she said she loved me. But she meets some random asshole at a bar and she's in love. They hook up for a while and get drunk and high and whatever, and I have to put up with it because she's my mom. I hate it. I hate it so much, but you can't talk about things like that. You can't say you hate your mother because that makes you a horrible person. So I guess I'm a horrible person.” The words came out in a flood, and I was helpless to stop them.

He stared at me as if I'd ripped off my clothes and danced around naked.

“Sorry.” I wasn't sure why I was apologizing. He was the one who'd dragged me into the middle of the woods to do something crazy with me.

“You remind me of a girl I knew once. Her name was Josie. You look remarkably like her, in fact. Except her hair was a bit longer, and she was a little bit taller. But you have her eyes.” His fingers traced across one of my eyebrows. My eyes were brown. Just plain brown.

“Tell me something else,” he said.

So I did. I talked and talked and talked. I talked because I was scared and lonely, and once I started I couldn't stop. I told him so many things. I told him about my mother and how I didn't know who my father was. Probably some loser she just hooked up with once. I told him about Cara and even about Dillon. I talked until my voice was hoarse and I'd forgotten about the part where he said he wanted my blood. I forgot about everything but him and me and the moon. No one had ever listened to me like he did. The entire time he stayed completely still, barely even blinking. Like he could listen to me talk forever. I finally stopped and realized the early light of dawn was peeking over the horizon. I'd been there all night, and I was exhausted and hungry, and I had to pee. Reality set in and I realized this might be the end for me.

“You think I'm going to kill you now. I can see the wheels turning in that lovely head of yours.”

“Aren't you?”

“I might. But then I might not.” He smiled at me.

“What can I do to change your mind?”

“Ah, now that is the question.” He stood up and walked around me, as if he was evaluating me. “There is one more thing I need to know before I decide.”

“What's that?” I said, my mind reeling with the possibilities.

One moment he was behind me, and the next his face was right in front of mine, our noses touching. His eyes were different colors. He stared into me, as if he was looking for something he'd lost down a well. He opened his mouth to say something, perhaps to ask a question, but then he dove forward, crushing my lips with his.

I froze for a moment, my brain trying to catch up with the ambush. No one had ever ambush-kissed me before. No one had ever wanted to kiss me that bad. His hands cupped my face, and he kept going, opening his mouth and asking me the question he couldn't say with words. That was the moment I stopped thinking and started kissing. And kissing. And kissing.

It was like all the kisses before this one had been practice. Not even that. Those touches of lips couldn't even be called kisses. They were an embarrassment to kissing. My hands found their way around his back and into his hair and all over him. My lips answered his, telling him more things about myself. About what I'd always wanted and never gotten. About things I never knew I wanted until he gave them to me.

My lips opened and admitted him. Let him in completely and totally. He could have taken whatever he wanted from me. I would have given him anything. Anything at all. Even my life.

He pulled back, and I tried to follow him with my lips.

“That was what I wanted to know.”

I was completely out of breath, and most of the blood had left my brain and redistributed. My lips were sore. He'd ravaged them. He'd ravaged me.

I'd let some creep kidnap me, take me out to the middle of the woods and assault me with his lips. Granted, I hadn't put up a fight when it came to the kissing.

“What was that for?” I asked, but he had wrenched my arm out, baring the skin under the moonlight. “What are you doing?” It took a moment for my kiss-addled brain to understand that he had my arm, and he had a knife.

“Stay still.” Oh hell, no. I tried to move, but he just threw himself on top of me, pinning me with his body. “The more you move, the more it's going to hurt, love. Soon you won't have pain. It will only be a memory.”

“Are you going to kill me?” The words were out before I could stop them.

“No, I'm going to show you how to live forever,” he said as he sunk the knife into my arm.

Three

Ava

I wake a few hours later when a feather tickles my nose and I sneeze.

“Bless you,” Peter says, handing me a tissue. Oh thank God, he's still here. “I kept my promise.” He doesn't smile, but he doesn't have to. It's enough that he's here.

“I see that.” I also see that it's time for me to get up. My head is groggy and slow to work, as if it's been stuffed with something squishy.