Oh, God, she wasn’t going to vomit, was she? She grabbed the edge of the table, put a hand over her mouth. What was the deal? She hardly ever got sick. In fact, she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been nauseous.
Krystal had said something about … fangs?
Calm down. I’m not getting sick. I feel perfectly fine. Just take a few deep breaths in and out and I’ll be back to normal.
Then, just as quickly as it came on, the nausea began to subside. But with it came a strange image in her memory. She saw a tall, muscular man—several men, actually—all with fangs. There was a scuffle. No, a fight. A really brutal one involving a body shriveling to dust and a really strange knife. It had a curved blade that flashed in the moonlight like a thousand tiny crystals. She would’ve liked to have seen it up close. The scene was like recalling a part from a movie you saw a long time ago and yet … that wasn’t quite right, either. The men’s faces were shadowed, their features indistinguishable, but they definitely had fangs.
Krystal was saying something she didn’t quite catch. Her voice was distorted, like it was coming from inside a tin can.
“What?”
“Are you okay? Do you want me to get you a glass of water? Or some crackers?”
Arianna opened her eyes, the sick feeling gone. Clearly, she’d dreamed about some really weird crap after what they’d witnessed last night. She’d always thought it was fascinating how the mind worked like that, trying to resolve problems at the subconscious level. She wondered what it meant that she’d been dreaming about vampires. Maybe all the research she’d done on topics for Paranormalish was catching up with her.
The guy last night was an undercover cop and had broken up a fight between two rival gang members. He was nice enough to drive them home … after she kissed him. Oh, good God. Her face heated again at the memory. She’d actually freaking kissed him. She quickly shoved the embarrassing image from her thoughts.
Krystal was staring at her, wide-eyed, a mixture of disappointment and resignation on her face. “Water and crackers always helps my mom when she’s had too much to drink. That and some Tylenol.”
Arianna smiled at her cousin. It had to be tough growing up with an alcoholic parent, where the child took on the role of being the responsible one. “Thanks, but that’s not it. I’ve only had a few sips of wine. Promise.” She got up from the table and dumped the wine from her glass down the drain. For good measure, she dumped out the rest of the bottle, too. “There. Just to be on the safe side. That was … weird.”
After they did the dishes and Krystal went to her room to do homework, Arianna turned on one of those reality cooking shows, grabbed her laptop, pulled out the scrap of paper from Carter and settled onto the couch. In a few clicks, she was into her cloud account.
As people were yelling at each other on TV, several rows of small picture thumbnails filled her screen. That’s strange. She didn’t remember taking so many photos last night at Blake’s house.
She clicked on the first image. She’d seen it before. It was Blake sitting in front of his grandmother’s afghan.
She clicked the last image. It was a dark, grainy picture of a sidewalk or road.
Okay. Delete.
She moused over the next one and clicked. Same thing, only this one showed the edge of a car’s bumper. A Jeep.
Like pocket-dialing, she must not have realized she was taking pictures. Delete.
These must be from the gang fight. Maybe there were some good ones earlier. She couldn’t remember taking any and yet …
She clicked on another one. When it filled the screen, her hands flew to her mouth.
It was the same sort of image she’d recalled at dinner. The photo was grainy because of the dim light and fog, but there was no mistaking the details. There was the man who had helped them home, the undercover cop, with that curved blade held high in the air, poised over another man on the ground. And they both had fangs.
Vampires? That was totally crazy. A chill snaked down her spine and lodged so deeply inside her that she wondered if she’d ever be warm again. But what else could they be? This made it pretty damn obvious.
She remembered now that when she kissed him, he’d seemed out of breath, as if he’d just physically exerted himself. Jesus. Killing someone with a blade would certainly do it you.
With shaky hands, she clicked through the rest of the photos, a dozen or so of them. Along with each one she looked at, her memory seemed to get clearer and clearer. When she got to the last one, her heart just about stopped. There was Krystal, standing next to a Jeep. The man had an urgent expression on his face and was pointing straight at the camera, as if urging her to go to where Arianna was standing.
Then, in one big rush, it came back to her. The shadows coming to life, Krystal being taken by two men, the other guy showing up.
They hadn’t witnessed gang members fighting. They were vampires. They had tried to take Krystal, but the other man, the one she had kissed, had saved her. Probably saved them both.
Holding the laptop, she jumped from the couch and headed to Krystal’s room, but she hesitated at the door. These photos were very graphic. If her cousin saw them, it might really upset her. As the parent figure in the girl’s life now, Arianna had to be conscious of things like that. She closed the computer, tucked it under her arm and knocked.
“Come in,” was the reply.
She leaned in the doorway. “Hey, do you remember two guys in a Jeep last night?”
“From the gang fight?”
“Um … yeah.”
Krystal scrunched up her brow, thinking. “No, I’m pretty sure I didn’t see them.”
“Do you remember seeing a Jeep at all?”
“Nope.”
Arianna exhaled slowly, trying to get her mind around all this. How could Krystal not remember standing next to the Jeep when Arianna had the proof right here?
“How about some weird shadows that—” she almost said materialized from the darkness, but changed her mind “—that, well … looked weird?”
Krystal shook her head. “Why?”
She pulled up one of the more innocuous pictures. “How about this guy? Does this bring up any strange memories?”
Krystal looked at the computer screen. “That’s the guy who broke up that knife fight. The guy you kissed.”
“Yeah, I know, but can you remember anything more?”
Krystal thought a moment before answering. “No, not really. Why?”
“No reason. Just curious.” She clutched her computer to her chest like a schoolbook. There was no way she’d tell Krystal that she’d survived a vampire attack. Or show her any of the other pictures. There were plenty of others without Krystal that she’d be able to post on her blog. Given all of this, she was soooo thankful now that she hadn’t told Krystal about Paranormalish. “I think I had one of those strange déjà-vu experiences you sometimes hear about. Must’ve been a weird dream I had last night. One of those really realistic ones.”
Krystal’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, I love when I remember a cool dream later.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
NORMALLY, VENTRA CAPELLI had a knack for knowing just the right outfit to wear in any situation. From soccer-mom chic in the suburbs when she faked