“Mom, it’s great to see you, really, but…”
The way she was staring in shock at the bedroom made a chill creep up my spine. I was afraid to turn around. Had Bones ignored my directive and come out?
“Catherine…is that a new bed as well?”
I almost sagged in relief. “It was on sale.”
She came forward and laid a hand on my forehead. “You don’t feel hot.”
“Believe me,” I said with the utmost sincerity. “At any second, I could throw up.”
“Well.” She looked around the place once more with that little frown and then shrugged. “I’ll call next time. I thought we could go out to dinner, but…oh, do you want me to bring you in something?”
“No!” Too emphatic. I softened my tone. “I mean, thanks, but I don’t have an appetite. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
With far less force than I’d used with Bones, I propelled her to the door. She just looked at me and sighed.
“That headache is making you act very weird, Catherine.”
I actually pressed my ear to the door after I closed it behind her to make sure she was really gone. Some paranoid part of me thought she’d only pretended and was waiting to fling it back open to catch me with my undead lover.
A noise made me turn around. Bones stood in the bedroom doorway, dressed now. I managed an uneven, fake laugh that didn’t even resemble humor.
“Whew, that was close.”
He stared at me. There was no anger to his expression anymore, and maybe that’s what made me nervous. Anger I could handle.
“I can’t stand to see you do this to yourself.”
I regarded him with wariness. “Do what?”
“Continue to punish yourself for your father’s sins,” he replied steadily. “How long are you supposed to pay for them? How many vampires do you have to kill until you and your mum are squared? You’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met, yet you’re scared to death of your own mum. Don’t you realize? It’s not me you’re hiding in a closet-it’s yourself.”
“That’s easy for you to say, your mother’s dead!” I sat on the couch with a huff. “You don’t have to worry if she’ll hate you for who you’re sleeping with, or if you’ll ever see her again if you tell her the truth! What am I supposed to do? Risk my relationship with the only person in my life who’s been there for me? She’ll take one look at you, and all she’ll see is fangs. She’ll never forgive me, why can’t you understand that?”
My voice broke over the last sentence and I buried my head in my hands. Great. Now I wasn’t faking it. I was getting a migraine.
“You’re right, my mum’s dead. I’ll never know what she would have thought of the man I’ve become. If she’d be proud…or despise me for the choices I’ve made. I will tell you this, though. If she were alive, I’d show her what I was. All of it. She wouldn’t deserve any less, and quite frankly, neither would I. But this isn’t about me. Look, I’m not insisting to meet your mum. All I’m saying is that sooner or later, you’ll have to come to terms with yourself. You can’t wish away the vampire in you, and you shouldn’t keep atoning for it. You should figure out who you are and what you need, and then don’t apologize for it. Not to me, to your mum, or to anyone.”
He was at the door before I realized what he was doing.
“You’re leaving? Are you-are you breaking up with me?”
Bones turned around. “No, Kitten. I’m just giving you a chance to think about things without me to distract you.”
“But what about Hennessey?” Now I was using him as an excuse.
“Francesca still doesn’t have anything concrete, and we’ve struck out searching for him on our own. Won’t hurt to give it a small rest. If anything does come up, I’ll ring you. Promise.” He gave me a last, long look before opening the door. “Goodbye.”
I heard it shut, but it didn’t register. I sat there for twenty more minutes staring at it, and then magically, there was a knock.
I leapt up in relief. “Bones!”
It was a young man in a uniform. “Pizza delivery,” he said with mechanical cheerfulness. “That’ll be seventeen- fifty.”
In a daze, I gave him a twenty, told him to keep the change, and then shut the door behind him and started to cry.
TWENTY
T IMMIE LOOKED AT ME WITH THE MORBID fascination you’d give an unpredictable virus under a microscope.
“You’re having another pint?”
I paused with my spoon over the chocolate ice cream, raising a challenging brow.
“Why?”
He glanced at the two empty containers near my feet. Or he could have been staring at the bottle of gin balanced next to me on the couch. Whatever.
“No reason!”
It had been four days since I’d seen or spoken to Bones. Doesn’t sound that long, does it? Well, it felt like weeks. Timmie knew something was up. Out of courtesy or fear, he hadn’t asked why a certain motorcycle hadn’t been parked in our community driveway lately.
I went through the motions. Attended classes. Studied feverishly. Ate sugar and junk food until my insulin levels spiked dangerously. But I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t even stand to lie in bed, because I kept reaching out for someone who wasn’t there. I’d picked up the phone a hundred times a day only to drop it before dialing, because I didn’t know what to say.
Timmie kept me from climbing the walls. He’d come over, watch movies until all hours, talk or not talk depending on my mood, and just be there. I couldn’t have been more grateful, but I still felt alone. It wasn’t his fault that I had to pretend, monitor my speech, and otherwise mask half of myself as usual. No, that wasn’t his fault. It was mine for pushing away the one person who’d accepted me unconditionally, even with all the flaws and oddities of both my halves combined.
“It’s so true, you know,” he said, nodding at the TV. “They exist.”
“Who?”
I hadn’t really been watching, too wrapped up in my inner turmoil.
“Men in black. Secret government agents whose job is to control and police extraterrestrial or paranormal phenomenon. They exist.”
“Um,” I said disinterestedly. So do vampires, buddy. In fact, you’re sitting next to one. Sort of.
“You know, I heard this movie was based on actual events?”
I gave a cursory glance at the TV and saw Will Smith battling it out with an alien monster. Oh, Men in Black.
“Could be.” Giant alien cockroaches that preyed on humans? Who was I to scream impossible?
“You ever going to tell me why you two broke up?
That got my attention. “We’re not broken up,” I denied immediately, more to myself than to him. “We’re, ah, taking a break to evaluate things, and, um, reexamine our relationship, so…I stuffed him in a closet!” I burst out in shame.
Timmie’s eyes goggled. “Is he still there?”
His expression was classic, but my sense of humor didn’t rise to the occasion. “My mother stopped by unexpectedly on Sunday, and I freaked out and shoved him in the closet until she left. After that came the whole ‘evaluate’ thing. I think he’s getting sick of my issues, and what’s worse, I don’t blame him.”
Timmie had recovered from his earlier misassumption. “Why does your mom hate foreigners so much?”
