Page 30 of Night of the Vampire
It was time for a change of subject. For now, anyway. "Tell me why you left New York."
The only sounds in the quiet of the kitchen were the soft snores of her dog, the beating of her heart, and her own steady breathing. A clock ticked in my office. And outside, a group of people discussed what restaurant had the best Hurricanes as they walked by.
She frowned slightly, looking down into her glass. "I told you why the night you walked into my store asking me a bunch of questions and begging me to come heal your friend."
"Yes, but now I would like to know the entire story." I'd caught flashes of things she hadn't said that night, but I wanted to hear it from her lips.
"Why? What does it matter?"
That was a very good question. "I think you know things, Lizzy. About yourself. Things you don't share with anyone."
"And you think I should share these things with you?"
"I do."
"What makes you so special?" The words weren't said with malice, but with a genuine curiosity.
I had to laugh a little at that. "Nothing, except perhaps that I can help you not be afraid of who you truly are." A memory flashed through her mind. Something recent. She was in a room lit with candles. Others were there, but it was gone before I could identify them.
Interesting.
"What do you know about your family here?" I asked her.
"Oh, I'm finding out more and more all the time," she told me as she grabbed the wine bottle to refill her glass, sarcasm dripping from her voice. She didn't sound like the reunion was all she'd hoped it would be.
"Tell me about New York."
A wistful smile teased the corners of her mouth. "I loved New York."
"Then why leave?"
She pressed her lips together as she swirled the wine in her glass, tilting it this way and that and holding it up to the light to see the legs it left on the glass.
I could pull the story from her mind, however, doing that would not only reveal she was right about my mind reading abilities but it would also break what fragile trust I'd managed to build so far. "You can trust me, Lizzy."
"I don't know that that's true."
"Touché," I told her. Setting my glass down on the table, I leaned forward and laced my fingers together. With a casual shrug I told her, "I already think you're a witch. I don't know that there's anything you can tell me that would surprise me, or make me think badly of you."
"You're not the only one who thinks I'm a witch," she mumbled quietly. So quiet, I knew it wasn't meant for my ears. After a pause, she said, "But I guess that's true enough. And honestly, it'd be nice to have somebody to talk to about it."
"So, tell me," I told her. "Tomorrow we can blame it on the wine and laugh it off as a night of telling tales. No harm done." I felt something within her click as she stared at me.
"Well, in that case," she said. "Pour me another glass."
I did a she asked, then went to get another bottle from the fridge and poured one for myself.
And then I waited.
Chapter 12
Lizzy
I don't know what I was thinking.
In the bright light of the morning sun the following day, my head aching from all the wine I'd drank, I could easily blame my loose tongue on the alcohol as Killian had suggested. But the fact of the matter was, it wasn't just the wine that made me open up to him.
Maybe it was because I sensed some type of kindred spirit. Or maybe I just needed to tell someone who wouldn't think I was crazy. Someone other than my aunt who was trying to recruit me into her cult. Someone who would listen without judging me, for I sensed that no matter what I told Killian, no matter what I'd done, he wouldn't judge me. Because there was a darkness in him that spoke of things far worse.
