Nathan walked over to the kitchen counter and picked up the pen and notepad Jessica kept there. He scribbled something, ripped off the page, and handed it to her.
“What’s this?” she asked, looking at the phone number he’d jotted down.
“The number of a man I know. He should be able to help you.”
“Who is he?”
“A werewolf.”
Jessica gasped. “Whoa, really?”
“No.” A spark of mischief lit Nathan’s eyes. Jessica squinted, but he ignored her irritated look. “He is simply a human. One who knows far too much for his own good. His name is Kiefer.”
“Kiefer?” Jessica’s eyes lit up again. “Like Kiefer Sutherland? He was in The Lost Boys. That’s a movie about vamp—”
“I know what it is.” Nathan pointed at the paper in her hand. “Call him. He will be able to determine if your friends really have been turned. If so, he can help to ease their transitions.”
Jessica stopped. Transitions? Well, that sounded bleak. And final. As if there truly wasn’t anything that could be done to reverse what had happened to Aaron and Jason. Her face fell. “But…Lucy,” she said. “That’s my friend. She’s in love with Aaron. She’s been hoping they could get together, that she could have a future with him. But if he’s going to be stuck being a vampire, then that probably means…”
Nathan surprised her by briefly settling a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I am sorry,” he said, and seemed to mean it. He went to the door. His fingers were on the knob when he stopped and turned to look back at her. “Jessica, may I ask you a question?”
She nodded, giving him a curious look.
“If you suspected I might be a monster, why did you come to me? How could you be certain I would not harm you?”
The corners of her mouth tugged up. “Well, I know you aren’t evil. I figured you were probably one of those vampires who doesn’t eat people, and who survives by just drinking animal blood.”
“‘One of those’ vampires?” he said, but understanding quickly dawned in his eyes. “You are speaking of fictional characters, yes?”
“Well, yeah, but…” His eyes hardened, and a quiver of doubt trembled through her. “You don’t, do you?” she asked quietly. “Eat people?”
He hesitated, staring at her neck just long enough to make her start sweating. “No,” he finally said softly. “I have never done so, but…why would you possibly assume that?”
“Because of what you did for Mr. Hambly,” she replied. “I saw you save his life, remember? That night in the lounge, when you kept the snack machine from turning him into just another stain on the carpet? I couldn’t imagine a monster doing anything like that. You know...anything so heroic.”
Nathan’s face blanched, and Jessica was unsettled to realize she’d somehow unsettled a vampire.
“What?” she wondered.
“You were not supposed to remember that.”
“I wasn’t?” Jessica’s eyebrows went up. “I don’t see how I was supposed to forget it. It was one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen.”
“I waved my hand. I gave you a mesmerizing stare. It was supposed to wipe the memory from your mind.”
“Yeah, I remember you waving at me.” Jessica fluttered her own hand in imitation. “And staring at me all intense.” She squinted her eyes.
“But you did not forget.” He sounded astonished.
Jessica shook her head. And then, seeing how upset he still seemed, she added, “Um. I’m sorry.”
“You never told anyone what you had witnessed,” he marveled. Then, with suspicion, “Or did you-?”
She shook her head again, vigorously. “No. Not until earlier tonight, when I told Lucy and Dara. But don’t worry, they won’t tell anyone else. Who would believe us, anyway?”
Nathan still looked flabbergasted, but he seemed to pull himself together. Raising his chin, he said, “I have heard tell of this before. Supposedly it happens from time to time, that a human is inordinately resistant to vampiric mesmerism. Although it is reckoned to be a rare trait.”
“Oh. No kidding?” Jessica grinned. “Neat. Guess that makes me kind of special, huh?”
He raked a quick glance over her from her head to toe. “Yes....Special.” Something like regret flashed in his eyes, and he offered her a weak smile. He pointed at the paper in her hand again. “Call Kiefer,” he urged. “He will help you. I will make certain of it.”
Chapter Eight
Lucy had been reluctant to leave Aaron alone in the state she’d found him in at the office, so she had taken him home with her that afternoon instead. It had been an ordeal getting him out of the building because he could barely walk in a straight line, but she’d managed to sneak him out a side entrance without anyone stopping them to ask any awkward questions. In her car, he’d curled up on the backseat and buried his head under a blanket she carried back there, because he’d said the sunlight hurt his eyes. She’d stopped by his apartment on the way to hers and helped him gather a few clothes and toiletries into a gym bag. Back at her place, she’d tried feeding him a sandwich, but he wouldn’t eat it, although he did gulp down almost an entire gallon of water while slumping at her kitchen table.
Eventually, she’d talked him into cleaning himself up. She’d been hovering around the bedroom when he’d emerged from the bathroom a while later, clean shaven and wearing a Houston Marathon t-shirt and sweatpants. His eyes were red-rimmed, like he’d been crying in the shower, and weariness dragged at his chiseled features.
“You should lie down,” Lucy said. “Get some rest.”
He cast a questioning glance toward the bed. “In here?”
“Why not?”
“But where will you sleep tonight?”
“In the living room. On the couch.”
Skepticism puckered his mouth. “I should take the couch.”
“No, it’s okay,” she insisted. “I want you to be comfortable. See, I already turned down the sheets for you and everything.”
Aaron looked where she pointed. His gaze seemed distant as it roamed over the bed, almost like he didn’t recognize the
