Amaranthine

Chapter 9

Jorick and Katelina walked through the night in silence. Behind then lost in the darkness was his house - or the house he'd been living in - potentially burning to the ground with an army of dead vampires in the basement. Ahead was hopefully safety.

They made their way out of the trees, across farmland, and down gravel roads, until nearly four a.m. Many times she would open her mouth to speak, but the silence had stretched so long that she couldn't think of anything suitable enough to break it. Her mind was far too occupied with the cramps in her aching legs, the pain in her shoulder, and the constant barrage of nightmare fears that assailed her from every shadow.

They topped a steep hill. Katelina gasped for air, and saw lights ahead, tiny beacons in the night that proclaimed safety and comfort.

"A town!" She called and stopped walking to catch her breath. A smile flitted across her soot smeared features and relief flooded through her. There was civilization and reality straight ahead!

Jorick paused too, his hands on his hips as he surveyed the twinkling lights spread in the valley below them. "Yes, I believe it's called Dunwick? It has a motel, so it will serve us nicely. It's not much, but better than trying to sleep in the street."

Katelina was so grateful at the idea of a bed that she didn't bother to think about what would happen when she didn't go to work the next morning, she didn't even bother to talk. Her only thoughts were bent towards comfort and safety - the vampires would never look for them in Dunwick!

Jorick allowed her a few minutes to catch her breath. She sprawled on the ground while he rubbed his hands in the dewy grass, and attempted to clean the blood and dirt from his face and hands. As he worked, he eyed her critically. "You might do the same," he suggested.

She nodded vaguely and spit into her hand. She rubbed her palms together and wiped them on her jeans. He winced in disgust, but said nothing as she concentrated her efforts on her face.

They found their way into the town: an old, rundown village gasping out its final breath. As they walked down quiet streets, the windows of abandoned buildings stared dully at them like the eyes of something dead and sorrowful, chipped paint and weedy parking lots reflected in their dingy panes. Katelina had been there before, but she wasn't sure that it had ever looked as morose - or beautiful - as it did now.

They made their weary way to the main highway where they found what they were seeking. The motel was a pink, ranch style affair with individual doors to each room, all numbered in faded gold.

Jorick left her to check in, promising he'd be right back and telling her not to move. She assured him she had no intention of going anywhere, except to sleep. He turned to go and she almost stopped him. Despite his earlier efforts, traces of blood shone dark against his skin. But she decided it was pointless and sank to the concrete curb to wait.

Jorick returned, a key jingling in his hand and a smile on his face. Apparently they hadn't held his appearance against his money.

She stood as he unlocked the door and followed him into the room. The warmth felt almost too warm for a moment, but she shut the door. She glanced from the hideous carpeting, to the warped television stand, to the table and chair, and then to orange covers of the bed. The one and only bed. She opened her mouth to complain, but he was already gone to the tiny adjoining bathroom, muttering to himself, "Oh yes, this will be just fine."

"Oh will it?" Katelina demanded as she glared in the direction of his disembodied voice. They'd been nearly killed by someone or something, and he had saved her, in a manner of speaking, but that didn't mean she was going to sleep with him!

He reemerged from the bathroom, looking satisfied, and she snapped, "There's only one bed." It wasn't too late to go to the police, though she doubted they'd believe a word she said. How could they? She knew that no sane, rational person would.

"Yes, and there's only one person to sleep in it."

"Oh! You got separate rooms!" She felt remorse trickle through her. He'd been perfectly thoughtful and she'd sounded like a b***h, practically accusing him of trying to force himself on her. Her blush deepened as she realized where her mind had been.

"Nooooo," Jorick answered slowly. He looked at her blank face and added quickly, "The beds give me a stiff neck."

"Oh." She wasn't sure how to react. "Are you going to sleep on the floor or-" She had no other suggestions.

"Most likely." He glanced towards the tiny bathroom. "Do you want to take a shower?"

She started to nod; a shower sounded like a wonderful idea. But she was so exhausted she just wanted to drop into bed. It was nearing six a.m. and she'd been up over twenty-four hours. Besides, she wasn't entirely comfortable taking her clothes off with Jorick in the next room. She didn't know him. In fact, if she thought about it, she wasn't sure why she was there with him, or why she seemed to trust him when she shouldn't. He could still be a lying psychotic killer.

But she didn't say that, only, "No. I'll take one when I get up tomorrow - today, whatever."

"Well, I'm going to take one. I suggest you try to go to sleep." He disappeared into the tiny room and shut the door firmly behind him.

She flopped on the bed without bothering to climb beneath the blankets. She let her head sink back into the pillows, closed her eyes, and listened to the sound of the shower running. Birds began to chirp outside, heralding the sun's impending arrival.

What a night it had been! She could scarcely get her mind wrapped around it. There was too much for her to comprehend and it was all too strange and confusing.

Patrick's face swam before her eyes, pale and haunted. That's how he'd appeared the last time she'd seen him alive.

***

'What's wrong Patrick, you seem... I don't know, weird tonight.'

He'd faked a smile but the worry stayed in his blue eyes and refused to leave, 'Nothing, I'm just tired.'

'Do you want me to go?' she'd started to sit up, to leave the bed.

'No.' He'd looked like a lost little boy. 'I don't want you to leave, not yet.'

'Then I won't.' She'd laughed, and slid back beneath the blankets, wrapping herself around him, wishing she'd known how to make him feel better.

***

Katelina opened her eyes and wiped tears out of them. Damn! She'd been doing such a good job of ignoring the ache in her chest until tonight! She'd tried so hard not to cry for him, not to care, but now it wasn't working very well.

Love. Jorick had said Patrick loved her. The idea still tortured her. Patrick hadn't loved her, no matter what Jorick said. They'd discussed it so many times. Patrick had wanted her assurances that she didn't want a real relationship with him. He'd explained that he couldn't give her one and that he didn't want to. What was she supposed to feel about that? What was she supposed to say? She'd agreed, and from that moment on she'd suppressed any burgeoning emotion where Patrick was concerned, squashing it before it even began.

Jorick had no right to go around saying things like that about Patrick! No right at all!

She raised her fist and slammed it into the bed, wincing as pain reverberated through her damaged shoulder. She should clean it, but Jorick was in the bathroom. A flush crept across her cheeks as the unbidden thought of him naked behind the shower curtain entered her consciousness.

She quickly berated herself. She didn't understand how she could even contemplate such a thing, not after the night she'd had!

She closed her eyes again and yawned. What she needed was some sleep and then a good strong cup of coffee when she woke up. After that, everything would be just fine. She was sure that once the sun was up all this weirdness would disappear and everything would be back to normal. Yet, as she drifted into darkness, she wished longingly that she could really believe that.