My focus lifted to theceiling at the sound of running water … followed by the slide of alock.
“She thinks you’reweird too, y’know?” The teen lifted her head. “Did you seethe way she looked at you for straightening the bedsheets?”
“She’s always thoughtI was weird.” I wandered back to the stove and got to work oncracking the remaining three eggs into the pan. “And last time Ichecked, it was just good manners to tidy up when you make a messin someone else’s home.”
“Aren’t you a gent?Here I was thinking you were doing it t’get some browniepoints?”
Running out of theroom after our awkward little encounter and my surprising reactionto being so close to her didn’t seem right. It would make me looklike an idiot or a perv, or worse, like I was scared of her.
“Aren’tyou?”
“No.” I snorted.However, she doesn’t trust me, and acting as human as possibleseemed to be the only logical thing to do. “You saw her reaction tomy healing throat?”
It was yet againanother reminder that I wasn’t human. Meaning she shouldn’t trustme, or that I couldn’t be trusted. And although somewhere deepinside me I knew she wouldn’t hurt me … I wasn’t yet willing to seeif I was right.
Grabbing a fork andspoon from the drawer, I slid a spoonful of butter into the pan andswitched on the hob.
“Does she even likeeggs?”
“She used to.” Ifilled the nearby kettle and switched it on before turning myattention back to the pan. “Besides, it’s not like there’s a lot ofoptions. Something t’eat is better than nothing t’eat.”
“By the smell, Ithink she will opt for nothing at this rate.”
I didn’t think it waspossible for me to gag at food, but she was right.
“They can’t be off. Ichecked the date.” I continued whisking the yellow liquid, watchingas it slowly became solid.
“Maybe it’s yoursensitive nose?”
I turned the hob offas soon as the eggs had taken their scrambled form. Moving to thekitchen window, I cracked it open, allowing the cool air to sweepin and waft away the putrid smell.
“Do you think itis?”
“I know as much asyou do.” She continued spinning around on the bar stool. “IfElle thinks they smell funky, then it might just be thebutter.”
Taking hold of thepan, I scooped the eggs into the bowl. “Well, the butter’s in dateso there’s no reasonable explanation as t’why they would smell sobad.”
“Well, that reallysells breakfast for me.”
I jumped as Elleappeared in the kitchen. Her hair was damp and scrapped back in amessy bun. Dressed in dark denim jeans, a black vest, and anunbuttoned green checked shirt, she stood in the open space,scanning the dining room and kitchen. Her fingers wrapped aroundthe hilt of the blade resting in its holder at her hip. “Who areyou talking to?”
“No one.” I laughed,putting the pan in the sink. “Just myself.”
“Yeah, because thatdoesn’t make you sound any less weird.”
I threw a pointed lookat the teen and picked up the bowl of scrambled eggs and placed thefork inside. “Here. There isn’t much in.”
Her focus slipped tothe bowl and then moved to the kettle.
“I’m good.” Sheskirted past me and collected the mug from the side and set tomaking herself a coffee.
“Told you theydidn’t smell right.”
“You should try andeat something. It’s been ages.” I placed the bowl on the breakfastbar. “They’re fresh.”
She glanced over hershoulder at me.
“The eggs.” I noddedat the bowl. “They just don’t smell great to me.”
Her left eyebrowarched. “They smell fine.”
“Then it’s definitelyme.” I looked at the teen triumphantly. “Must be another Vampireperk.”
Surely, Vampirescouldn’t be that turned off by food. It was a strange idea, butthen again, it wasn’t like I had an opportunity to figure it out asthey’d had no food at the facility. Plus, I had been travellinglate at night and through the early hours of the morning, notakeaways open. No homecooked meals tainting the air of the homes Ihad walked past. I guess time would tell if this was a one-off ordefinitely a Vampire thing.
Black coffee in hand,Elle turned and headed to the pantry door, which was situated nextto the fridge. “Have you drunk?”
“Yup. Quite a bit ofyour cousin’s odd mixture.”
She stepped inside andflicked on the light. Placing her mug on one of the shelves, sheknelt down and began to run her hands across the floor.
“What’s shedoing?” Teen Elle asked, hopping off the stool.
“Erm, Elle?” I pickedthe bowl of scrambled eggs up and wandered over to the doorway,pausing when I heard a click.
Elle straightened, andpart of the floorboards lifted. Leaning down, she pulled the woodto one side.
“Is that a secretdoor?” I found myself asking as she collected her drink and headeddown into the darkness.
“Of course it is,eejit. We’re in the home of a Vampire hunter.” Teen Elle pushedpast me and followed her real self.
I stared at the darkhole, hesitant to follow. Why would I want to go back undergroundin a dark dank space? Was it a trap? Had she lied about wanting tohelp me? Would Elle lock me up down there?
Beeping met my ears,followed by a clunk and a whine as something heavy was made tomove. A rhythmic clap and pale light illuminated the secretdoorway.
“There’s only oneway t’find out.” The teen popped her head through the hole.“Well, don’t just stand there like a ninny.”
Reluctantly, I headeddown. The stepladders led to a small type of hallway. An open doorlay to my right, and as I stepped through into the light, Isuddenly felt as though I were in a spy film.
“Is this what I thinkit is?”
Elle stood by a desknear the far wall, her attention fixed to a large frame hangingthere. “What do you think it is?”
“Is this Heather’straining room?” I stepped farther into the room, wandering aroundthe gym equipment that took up the middle of the space. “Like theone you said you have at home?”
“Aye, but ours isbigger.” Elle turned to evaluate the room. “And not asdepressing.”
“This isawesome.” Teen Elle stood next to the red punch bag, duckingand weaving, throwing punches that never connected with the heavysack.
The room was grey anddull, but it was basically a home gym. “I guess it’s a good use ofspace.”
Real Elle snorted.“Only you would find this normal.”
“Well, its
