“It belonged to a homeless woman, but don’t worry, I paid for everything,” Elise said, shrugging. “It was a good way to transport you without drawing notice.”
“Why didn’t you just… commandeer a car or something?” Blake asked, getting out of the cart. His bones creaked once he was freed from that cramped position.
Another shrug. “I don’t know how to drive.”
Blake looked at her with more shock than he’d shown when he found out she was a vampire. “You don’t know how to drive?” he repeated.
Elise seemed amused at his disbelief. “I never got around to learning.”
Waking up in a homeless person’s shopping cart was still better than waking up to the sight of dead bodies. No matter his current circumstances, Blake was grateful for that. He still didn’t know how Elise thought she could help him, but she could apparently keep him from killing when the demon possessed him. And since she was taking Blake to meet her sire, maybe that vampire would put him out of his misery even if Elise refused to. It was something to hope for.
It was ironic, Blake reflected. Before becoming possessed, he’d never thought much about death beyond having a life insurance policy and exercising to stay healthy. Now, Blake lusted after death as though it were a beautiful woman. Death meant he’d never hurt anyone again. Death meant his family would be safe. Death meant his remaining friends never had to open their doors and see a demon standing on the other side of it, concealed in Blake’s skin. Death was Blake’s only way of beating the thing inside him, and Blake wanted to beat it more than he wanted anything else.
Elise’s whistling shook Blake from his dark ponderings. She was whistling “Beautiful Dreamer” in a soft, melancholy way, the notes as perfect as if they were coming from a flute. Blake wondered how a vampire, who supposedly didn’t breathe, could whistle. He wondered how Elise was out in the daylight without spontaneously combusting, or how it was that vampires even existed at all. So many things he hadn’t thought were possible turned out to be true. Vampires? They existed. Demons? Real, too. If aliens landed at the Capitol tomorrow, he’d only be mildly intrigued.
“If sunlight doesn’t hurt you, why do you live underground in a tunnel?”
Elise kept whistling. Blake thought she’d decided to ignore him, but when the last strains of the song ended, she replied.
“I don’t do so well around people.”
Her voice was soft, too. Filled with a sort of disconnected regret, as though her lack of social skills made her sorry, but she didn’t understand why. She started to whistle that same song again. Blake sat down, leaning back against a tree, and closed his eyes. He could almost imagine he was somewhere else, listening to the sweet and haunting tune.
“You won’t let me hurt anyone, will you?”
Elise paused. “No.” She continued whistling, the sound and her answer lulling him, making him feel almost… safe.
Blake did something he hadn’t done willingly for weeks. He let himself fall asleep.
Elise listened as Blake’s heartbeat and breathing became more relaxed with slumber. She kept whistling, even though she wasn’t used to breathing this much. Still, the song seemed to soothe him, though why that mattered to her was a mystery. His being quiet will draw less attention, she told herself, knowing that was a lie. They were in Arlington National Cemetery. There weren’t many people around to notice if Blake caused a stir, except perhaps the ghosts.
It was so odd, this protective feeling. Once she’d made up her mind to help Blake, her long-dormant emotions awoke. Elise couldn’t help but admire Blake’s concern for other people, even over his own life. You won’t let me hurt anyone, will you? It had been a long time since Elise had cared that much about other people, especially strangers.
When DC’s homeless or criminal element attacked her—which happened every few months—she killed them. It didn’t occur to her not to since she reasoned that by doing so, she was saving someone else from that person’s future attack. Blake wasn’t responsible for what the demon inside him did, but he was willing to die in order to prevent other people from getting harmed. His strength of character under these extreme circumstances held up a mirror to hers, and Elise didn’t like what she saw reflected there. Mencheres is right, she realized. I’ve let myself slip away. How much of the person I was is still left? Can I salvage the remains before apathy eats away at the rest of me?
She’d start with Blake. Maybe by helping to save his soul, she’d earn a reprieve for her own.
Chapter Five
A black Volvo approached, driving along an area where vehicles usually weren’t allowed. Elise felt the encroaching power from inside the SUV.
“Here they are,” she told Blake, waking him.