“Hey, way to go, Skitz. Good little hunter, aren’t ya?”
He scoured the scene—probably making sure it was safe to unveil his prey—then tossed the mouse into the air and caught it in his teeth, pausing to scrutinize me.
“Gross.” Time to go inside. I stood up quickly, but my heel shattered the step under my foot—dragging my shin through before my knee smashed into the edge of the top step, sending me forward onto my hands. Without thinking, I rolled over and pulled my leg free from the wooden cage, scraping the flesh back the other way, making it sting as a mix of blood and sweat smeared into the shredded skin.
“Ow! Ow! Ow!” I hugged my knee, watching a purple line appear where it had cracked the upper step.
Not bothering to see if I was okay, Skittles bolted off with his catch of the day. “Traitor!” I yelled, blinking back tears.
“Ara? Are you okay, dear?” I jumped a little as the front door swung open, disturbing the quiet. “What happened?”
“Had a fight with the porch step—” I took a breath through my teeth, rocking back and forth. “Step won.”
Vicki tilted her head and sighed. “I told Greg to fix that weeks ago. I’ll go get the first aid kit.” She ran inside, leaving the front door open, and quickly came back to sit beside me on the remains of the once creaky bottom step. “What were you doing out here anyway, Ara? It’s very early.”
I winced as she smoothed some sterile solution down the minced skin on my shin. “I went jogging.”
She stopped for a second. “I didn’t know you were jogging again. That’s really good to hear.” She sounded pleased—with herself.
“Yeah. Guess it is.” Except, it wasn’t a sign of my recovery, but more of my isolation and desperate need to figure my own head out.
“Did you see Skittles out here, by any chance? I thought I heard his bell. He has a vet appointment this morning and I want to bathe him before we go.” She grinned.
“Yeah, well, he’ll need one now,” I said.
“Why?” She covered the cut with some gauze and tape.
“He caught himself a nice, juicy mouse,” I probed, watching her face for disgust. It licked her expression without any further prompting. Sam would definitely be bathing Skittles now. Victory move. I one-upped him and he wouldn’t even know it was me.
“Why would you let him do that, Ara? You know how I feel about that.”
“Why?” I scoffed. “Vicki, he’s a cat—they kill mice. It’s what they’re supposed to do.” And as soon as I said it, everything slowed down around me. The cat killed. I praised him for it. I all but patted his head not more than two minutes ago. But I’d never punished him. And yet, for some reason, I’d been punishing David for doing exactly the same thing, in the only way I knew how; by denying him my heart. Deep down, the real truth I didn’t want to face was not that he was a vampire, but that, like he said, if I loved him, then there must be something wrong with me. But I loved him anyway—for who he was, vampirism aside. Mouse catching aside. David wouldn’t kill if it weren’t necessary. He was a good, kind person, but also a vampire. It wasn’t the same thing.
Vicki waved her hand in front of my face. “Ara, are you all right, dear?”
Blinking, I snapped out of my trance. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine.”
“Well, come on, we’ll go inside and yell at Dad for not fixing that step.” She took my hand and helped me to stand.
“Actually, Vicki, I think I’ll just go sit on the swing for a bit.”
“Okay.” She frowned, then smiled. “Well, I’ll be inside if you need to talk.”
“Oh, um—” I almost laughed, “—thanks, Vicki.”
She nodded and walked back up the stairs. When the front door closed, my smile dropped. I stumbled clumsily over the hedge fence at the side of the house and into the backyard. Then, as I righted myself and looked up—met with the eyes of a vampire. “David?”
Perfect as always, he leaned casually against the oak tree, with one hand in his pocket and a very sexy smile across his lips. “Hello Ara,” his tone seemed to sing the words.
“What’re you doing here?”
David looked down at his feet as he shuffled up, very human-like, from his lean against the trunk. I loved it when he looked human. “Can we talk?” He offered his hand.
“I, uh—” I looked at his long, outstretched fingers. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Oh.” He dropped his hand. “Okay…I’ll go then.”
“No. I—” I stepped forward, reaching for him. “I don’t want you to leave. It’s just—” I smiled sheepishly down at my bleeding leg.
His eyes followed mine, his brow pinching when he saw the gauze. “What happened?”
I flopped down on the ground in an exhausted heap, my legs and arms sprawled out to the sides. “Apparently I’m heavier than I used to be.”
He laughed, gently bending my sore leg at the knee as he squatted down. I tensed a little, rolling up at the waist to watch him rest a sweet kiss to the purple bruise. “You will never have to be afraid of me, Ara.”
“But you’re a vamp—”
“Yes.” He extended his hand and helped me to sit up. “And it would take a lot more than a line of blood across your skin to make me hurt you.”
“So, it doesn’t bother you—the blood?”
“No.” He sat down across from me.
“Then, it doesn’t make you want to bi—”
“Shh.” He placed his finger to my lip and nodded toward something behind me.
I stiffened. “What is it?”
“Vicki.” He looked back at me. “She’s watching us from the laundry.”
“Well…what’s she doing in there—just watching us?”
“No.” David’s intense stare softened to a smile. “She’s bathing a cat, I believe.”
“What?” I spun around to see her struggling with something in the sink—something smudgy and dark-grey—almost slimy, with claw-ending tendrils thrashing out of the tub every few seconds. “Why is she bathing the cat?”
“I assure you, I have no idea.”
I turned back, folding my arms, probably wearing a scowl, too. “It was a rhetorical question. Sam was supposed to be doing it—as payback for…well…never mind.” I didn’t want to tell him I mucked around with my little brother like a seven-year-old. “Those deep scratches were meant to be for him.”