Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
I nod. “Yeah.” To say that I am less than thrilled about this would be an understatement. “It’s really happening, I guess.”
“Does it hurt?” She doesn’t come towards me. Doesn’t come get a better look at it. Doesn’t offer to clean the blood off me and dress the wounds. Something I think she would’ve done a couple weeks ago.
“I’m not sure if it hurts, but it’s definitely uncomfortable.”
She doesn’t know what to say to that, so she says nothing.
I change the subject. “Feel better?” I add a lightness to my tone, trying to turn this whole thing around.
I hate that she hates me. I know she has every reason to. And hate is probably a strong word. It’s not hate, it might be revulsion, which would be worse, in my opinion. I’d rather have the hate.
“Yeah. I do. Thanks.” She heads towards the kitchen. “I’m going to make dinner.” I watch her pull open the fridge and start gathering things, things I didn’t help put away because I was in my post-feeding high, or whatever it is. She places several ingredients on the counter. “Do you want some?”
“Do I want some?” I smile at her. “Yeah. I do.” She smiles back at me. “But”—her smile falls—“I don’t think I could keep it down, to be honest. So I’m gonna pass.”
She forces that smile again, but it’s fake. “Right. I figured, but I don’t want to leave you out.”
“I appreciate the offer. I really do, Syrsee. And I hate that we’re so distant right now. I wish it was different. Actually, I wish it was the same as before. I wish it was like it was.”
“Yeah.” She nods. “Me too.” But then she just turns away and starts preparing her meal.
I don’t know what to do next. I don’t have a TV here, so I can’t turn that on for background noise. I do have a radio, though. An old-timey one that takes up way too much room in one corner of the cabin. So I walk over there, turn it on, and then bend down, trying to find a station. It only takes a second to find the first one—polka music.
Which makes me laugh, and when I look over my shoulder, Syrsee is smiling as she cuts up some vegetables. “Do you polka?” I ask.
She shakes her head, still smiling.
I move the dial to another station and find classic rock. I don’t ask for her opinion on this. I’m not in the mood for Ozzy. So I continue down the spectrum and land on bluegrass. When I stand up and turn, she’s nodding at me. “This is kind of appropriate.”
West Virginia music, for sure. “Do you know how to play an instrument, Syrsee?”
“No. I took a little piano in college. Just for fun.” She scoffs. “Actually, I didn’t pick that class. The Guild chose all my classes and they put me in piano for two semesters. It was a private class. Just for me. And I kinda liked it, but I didn’t learn much. I didn’t even know how to read music when I started. So it was a whole lot of ‘Jingle Bells,’ and ‘Happy Birthday,’ and ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ for a while.”
“And what could you play by the end?”
She sighs, but not a tired sigh. More of a thinking-back sigh. “‘Für Elise.’”
“That’s impressive.”
“Trust me.” She’s slicing a cucumber. “It was tediously slow in tempo. And it took me the whole second semester. I learned that one and ‘Lean on Me.’”
“Fun.”
“Do you play an instrument, Ryet?”
“Guitar and violin.”
She stops cutting to look up. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Hmm. Just didn’t see that coming. But…” Her eyes meet mine. And we stare at each other for a moment. “You would’ve had a lot of time, right? To learn.”
“Yeah. I had lots of time.”
She sighs again. This time it is a tired one. Then she puts down her knife.
“Everything OK?” I ask.
She wipes her hands on a dish towel. A brand-new one that she must’ve bought today because I’ve never seen it before. “I have to tell you something.”
“All right.”
“I ran into Tristin in town.” She says this in a rush, like she needs to get the words out before she loses her nerve.
“Who’s Tristin?”
“A Guild member. He says he’s some kind of rogue vampire?”
“A what?”
“I’m not really sure about that part. It’s not important, I don’t think. The important part is… they want me to bring you in.”
“Bring me in?”
“To the Guild.”
“They want you to betray me?”
“Kinda? But I’m not sure.”
“Which part aren’t you sure about?”
“I’m not sure they’re… the bad guys.”
I walk over to the kitchen counter that separates me from her and brace my hands on it. “I think you should start from the beginning. I didn’t even know about these Guild people until right before I met you. Paul never told me, so I’m not sure what any of this means.”