Page 4 of Simon Says

She chuckled. “Vampire slayer. Sounds like hard work.”

“It can be.”

“And dangerous.”

“Yeah.”

“Is that how you lost your friend?”

The smile on Simon’s face faded. “Why do you ask that?”

“A feelin’.” She waved at the landscape around her. “Is that no’ why you’re out here? Human?”

“Simon.”

“Sorcha.”

“Sorcha,” he said softly. He repeated her name, his tongue tasting it and rolling it over like a French kiss. “It suits you.”

“How do you know?”

He grinned and using her own words, said, “A feelin’.” She laughed. “Are you special?”

Her eyebrows went up. “I like to think so.”

“No. I mean, ah, psychic?”

“Oh. The sight. My gram has it. I would no’ say I do ’cause it comes and goes. ’Tis a moody little bastard. Hides when I want it. Shows up when I do no’ give a care.” She made a face. “More hidin’ than showin’.”

Simon nodded. He glanced toward the tomb again and said, “How about you? Archeologist? Historian?”

“Little bit o’ both o’ those. Little bit antisocial, too.”

Simon looked around at the deserted landscape. “This is the right place for you, then. Am I disturbing you?”

After appearing to consider that for a minute, she shook her head. “You can stay. You have a nice…” At a loss for words, she waved her hand in a way that looked like she was tracing an oval-shaped shell around his body.

“Body?” She shook her head and laughed.

“Backpack?” She shook her head harder and giggled.

“Energy?”

“Aye! Energy. Sort of. ’Tis another word.”

“Aura?”

“Aye. Aura. Yours is almost pure white. Very unusual.”

“Does that mean I’m boring?”

“No. It means I’m in no danger when you’re ’round.”

“Are you camping here?”

“Aye. Campin’.” She waved to a spot off to her left. “Over there.”

“Well, I have stuff for dinner. If you’d like to join me.”

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