Page 87 of Fanged Embrace
When we finally departed, Laurie spent the drive home pressed against the passenger-side door, attention fixed on the city skyline—lighting up in increments as night set in.
I could see the cogs grinding behind her scowl. I knew if I delivered her straight home, she’d lock herself in the guest room and blueprint a suicide mission before dawn. So, to delay the inevitable, I skipped the usual exit and cut south instead, slipping into Lower Manhattan’s late-night traffic.
Laurie finally noticed the detour when the spire of One World Trade speared the clouds above us. She shot me a sidelong glance. “Thought we were headed back?”
“Scenic route.” I shrugged and eased into the underground parking space. “There’s something I wanna show you.”
Laurie looked suspicious but she climbed out of the car after me and followed me through the vacant lot. Moments later, the elevator whooshed us upward—and when the doors slid open on floor 102, we stepped into hushed darkness and clear glass.
The city unfurled beneath us: neon arteries, silver rivers, pinprick constellations of apartment windows. Our reflections hovered on the glass, superimposed over the glittering grid, like we were ghosts adrift over the metropolis. From up here, the blaring traffic, the stream of pedestrians, and all the grime dissolved into precise geometry—orderly veins of light and shadow. A fragile, temporary illusion of peace, but breathtaking all the same.
In the dark, Laurie folded her arms, overlooking the skyline with bland indifference. “River, what are we doing here?”
“Appreciating the view.” I stepped forward and pressed my palms to the glass. “Kinda pretty, right?”
When I glanced back at Laurie she was frowning, looking down at the view like the city itself had wronged her. “It only looks that way from afar. Up close it’s all grime and garbage.”
“Well, aren’t you just a shining beacon of positivity tonight,” I deadpanned and turned my eyes back to my reflection, noting the eyebags that were growing more prominent by the day.
I’d lost enough sleep to really feel the effects lately. Beneath the casual snark, I was all aching bones and tired eyes, desperate to take a nap. I’d expended so much energy blocking Laurie’s nightmares I was practically dead on my feet. Even when I did manage to catch a few hours of sleep, my powers were still working overtime soothing her aura—and simultaneously sapping my strength.
My gaze sidled back to Laurie though my palms remained flush on the glass. It was worth it.Shewas worth it. If only I could convince her of that too.
“Maybe it’s silly, but I come here sometimes when my problems feel too big to handle.” I spread my fingers on the window, feeling the faint thrumming of wind pressing against the pane. “The world is a lot bigger than the slice we trip over every day. Up here I remember that. Reminds me there are more possible futures than the one snarling in my face.”
Laurie’s bored expression turned sour and her reflection turned to look at me. “You brought me all the way up here to tell me my problems aren’t as bad as I think?”
“No. Just—goddammit, come here.” I rolled my eyes and reached for her hand. Laurie pouted profusely but she let me lift it to the window and press her palm to the glass. Her eyes studied the skyline and I studied her face. “This is for me. This is how I cope with everything. Maybe it’ll help you too.”
This place was my last resort when it came to glimpsing the future. When Pilates failed me and meditation offered nothingsubstantial, this was where I came to clear my head and open my mind to new possibilities. It was easier to see beyond the here and now, when looking at that sprawling skyline.
Laurie grimaced at the glass, but she didn’t yank her hand away. She kept her eyes on the flickering lights, watching the lattice of avenues for a quiet minute. I kept my gaze on the slope of her cheek, the stray strands of hair that hung over her eyes. I stared at her and found quiet comfort in the fact that she was still there, still within reach.
For now,my mind whispered, and I tightened my grip on her hand.
“You don’t have to love the view,” I murmured, edging closer until my shoulder brushed hers. “I’m not trying to re-wire your worldview in one night. I just… want to share these things with you. Even if you can’t appreciate it.”
Laurie’s reflection lifted an eyebrow. “Is this some kind of vampire therapy?”
“Consider it a free session.” I managed a wry smile.
She huffed a laugh but it came out like a sigh, and looked back at the city lights. The edges of her posture loosened, resentment draining to wary interest that I knew was entirely a show for my sake. She was humoring me, but that was fine. At least she wasn’t on her way out the door.
While she stared, I let my own vision blur, fishing for probability strands in a hazy future. Begging for a glimpse of something better for her.Show me something different.A brighter path to walk towards. A way we both survive this.
I saw flashes here and there, future paths blooming behind my eyes and veering off in all directions. I saw the Leyore coven in shambles and our headquarters lit up in flames. I saw alliances shattered and all of our hard work gone to waste. I saw hundreds of ways this could all end terribly, and hundreds more where the results were murky, flippant, subject to change the way the future so often does.
What I didn’t see was Laurie.
I couldn’t see her at all. Her future remained stubbornly vacant. Gray fog, static, nothing. The tapestry refused to weave itself into a clear picture. Nothing had changed. Laurie was still dead set on ending things and all of my efforts were still not enough. The emptiness punched a hole in my chest and I blinked tears into hiding just as Laurie turned to look at me.
“Are you okay?” Her voice was strained, tentative—the way people sound when they catch you bleeding.
I masked the crack in my composure with a small shake of my head and stepped behind her, sliding both arms around her waist. She stiffened a second, then softened again, and leaned into me. We stood inches from the glass, reflections fused with the electric skeleton of Manhattan.
Her hands came up to lightly grip my forearm, and her head lolled back against my chest. Her words were pained and wracked with guilt. “You’re not okay?—”
“I’m fine,” I lied into her hair, closing my eyes to that bleak future I refused to accept. “Just… gotta learn to take my own advice.”
