Page 11 of Night of the Vampire
Confetti raining down on our heads brought me back to the present and I realized we'd stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and were standing there, nearly touching but not quite, staring at each other. I blinked, breaking the spell, and stepped back.
Killian reached out toward my face. I held my breath as he removed confetti from my hair. I looked down, breaking the spell, and we started walking again.
"So, will you come meet her, at least?"
As we walked, Killian waited for my answer. One I couldn't give him. When we got a few buildings away from my apartment, I stopped. "I'm just ahead," I told him, my tone final and careful not to indicate exactly where I lived in any way. "Thank you for walking me home, but I can make it on my own now."
As I turned away, his voice stopped me. "Lizzy."
I looked back over my shoulder but didn't stop walking.
"I'll be back tomorrow," he told me. "I expect your answer will be different then."
It wasn't quite a threat. More like a promise. I didn't know how to respond, so I said nothing, turning away and guiding Wiggles back to our apartment, checking over my shoulder once when we got near the door to make sure Killian wasn't still watching.
He was gone.
And the loneliness was back.
Chapter 5
Killian
"How is she?"
As I pulled Kenya's door shut behind me, I looked up to see Jamal coming out of the room next door. "Resting," I told him.
"I don't know how she can sleep with all this noise," he said.
I had to agree. The swamp was thriving with life, and it had no problems making itself known. All night, the insects and frogs sang incessantly, their voices interspersed with the occasional hoot of an owl claiming their hunting territory. To humans, this unending chorus was probably calming. To vampires and other immortals with supernatural hearing, it was headache-inducing. "Me, either. I've never been so grateful to be a day sleeper."
I struggled to find something else to say. This was the most he'd talked to me in months.
Jamal turned to leave, and I stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Are you going to the club tonight?" I asked him. It wasn't what I wanted to say to him. But I knew from experience that any attempt at having a heart to heart would only end up in an argument.
"I am," Jamal said.
"You should feed. You're looking tired."
He yanked his arm from my grip, and I ground my teeth together, realizing my mistake too late. "Don't tell me what to do, Killian. Maybe I just want to dance tonight. Or fuck. Maybe I don't feel the need to drain every woman who pays for a private performance."
"It's just a suggestion, mate."
"Yeah, well I'm not your slave."
His words hit me like a punch in the gut. "Of course, you're not. Fuckin' Christ, Jamal. I'm just worried about you."
"Well, don't be. I can handle my own stuff."
"Can you, then?" I didn't know why I was challenging him. I didn't want to argue. But I was so sick and tired of him acting like I was some sort of monster holding him prisoner in my dungeons. He had a good life. He had a life because of me.
For once, he didn't take the bait. He just sighed heavily and said, "Yeah, I can."
I watched him turn and walk down the hall. "How long are you going to hate me for? Just out of curiosity, you know. It's been over a hundred years, Jamal."
He stopped, but didn't turn around. "I don't know," he told me. "When are you going to set me free?"
"You're not a prisoner here," I insisted.
