Using my other hand, I tore out the page out, revealing a fresh one beneath.
My arm jerked immediately, tingling, and the pen wrote again, but this time not with circles.
This time words appeared. Two words, to be exact.
Hello, Samantha.
Chapter Eleven
I stared at the two words.
Had I written them? Was I deluding myself into thinking that something beyond me was writing?
At that moment, as those questions formed in my mind, the gentle shocking sensation rippled through my forearm again and the pen began moving. Three words appeared.
Does it matter?
The script was flowing. Easy to read. Big, roundish letters. Completely filling the space between the light-blue lines of the writing paper.
"You can read my mind?" I said aloud.
My hand jerked to life, and words scrawled across the page.
Thoughts are real, Samantha. More real than people realize.
I watched in amazement as the words appeared before me. I had the sense that if I wanted to stop writing, that I could. I wasn't being forced to write. I was allowing something to write through me. If I wanted this to stop it would.
"Who are you?" I asked. My heart, which averaged about five beats a minute, had increased in tempo. It was now thumping away at maybe ten beats a minute.
There was only a slight pause, and then my hand felt compelled to write the words: I am someone very close to you.
"Should I be afraid?"
You should be whatever you want. But let me ask you: Do you feel afraid?
"No."
Then trust how you feel.
I took in some air, and held it for a few minutes, staring down at the pad of paper. I exhaled the air almost as an afterthought.
"This is weird," I said.
It is whatever you want it to be. It could be weird. Or it could be wildly wonderful.
Half the page was now full. My hand also moved down to the next line on its own, prompted by the gentle electrical stimulation of my arm muscles.
A weird, otherworldly sensation, for sure.
"So you are someone close to me," I said, and suddenly felt damn foolish for talking to my hand and a piece of paper. "But that doesn't tell me who you are."
There was a pause, and I had a strong sense that whoever I was talking to was considering how much to tell me.
For now, let's just say I am a friend. A very close friend.
"Most of my friends don't speak to me through a pen and paper," I said. "They use email or text messaging."
Words are words, are they not? Think of this as spiritual instant messaging. A SIM.
Despite myself, I laughed. Now I was certain I was going crazy.
I looked down at the printed words. The fresher ones were still wet and gleaming blue under the overhead light. The printing was not my own. It was big and flowing. My own handwriting style tended to be tight and slanted.
Finally, I said, "I don't understand what's happening here."
Do you have to understand everything, Samantha? Perhaps some things are best taken on faith. Perhaps it's a good thing to have a little mystery in the world. After all, you're a little mysterious yourself, aren't you?
I nodded but said nothing. I was suddenly having a hard time formulating words - or even thinking for that matter. I was also feeling strangely emotional. Something powerful and wonderful was going on here and I was having a hard time grasping it.
Then let's take a break, Samantha. It's okay. We made our introductions, and that's a good start.
"But you didn't tell me your name," I blurted out.
A slight pause, a tingle, and the following words appeared:
Sephora. And I'm always here. Waiting.
Chapter Twelve
At 7:00 p.m., and still a little freaked about the automatic writing, I called my kids.
Danny picked up immediately.
"I heard about the stunt you pulled today, Sam," he said.
In the background, I heard a female voice say quietly, "What a bitch." The female probably didn't know that I could hear her. The female was now on my shit list. And if it was the female I was thinking it was - his home-wrecking secretary - then she was already on my shit list. So this put her name twice on my shit list. I don't know much about much, but being on a vampire's shit list twice probably wasn't a good idea.
Danny didn't bother to shush the woman or even acknowledge she had spoken. Instead, he said, "That was a very stupid thing to do, Sam."
"I just want to see my kids, Danny."
"You do get to see them, every Saturday night," he said, breathing hard. Danny had a temper. A bad temper. He never hit me, which was wise of him, because even back when I wasn't a vampire I could still kick his ass. You don't smack around a highly trained federal agent with a gun in her shoulder holster. And then he added, "But not anymore."
"What do you mean not anymore?" I asked.
"It means you're no longer permitted to see the kids, Sam. How can I trust you anymore after that stunt you pulled today?"
This coming from the man who had been cheating on me for months.
"Stunt? Seeing my kids is a stunt?"
"We had an agreement and you broke it, and now I have an obligation to protect my children."
"And they need protection from me?"
There was no hesitation. "Yes, of course. You're a monster."
I heard little Anthony say something in the background. He asked if he could talk to me on the phone. The female in the room shushed him nastily. Anthony whimpered and I nearly crushed my cell phone in my hand.
"Don't take away my Saturdays, Danny."
"I didn't take them away, Sam. You did."
I forced myself to keep calm. "When can I see them again, Danny?"
"I don't know. I'll think about it."
"I'm seeing them this Saturday."
"If you come here, Sam, then everything goes public. All the evidence. All the proof. The pathetic life that you now have will be over. And then you will never, ever see your kids. So don't fuck with me, Sam."
"I could always kill you, Danny."
"Awe, the true monster comes out. You kill me and you still lose the kids. Besides, I'm not afraid of you."
He had something up his sleeve. I wasn't sure what it was, but I suspected it was a weapon of some sort. A vampire hunting weapon, no doubt. Maybe something similar to what the vampire hunter had used on me last month. The hunter who came to kill me with a crossbow and silver-tipped arrow, and ended up on a one-way cruise ship to Hawaii. Long story.
I looked at my watch. It was well past the ten minutes he allotted me each night. "Can I please speak to my children now?"