Tana walked around the store, picking up a map with numb fingers. There were notices tacked to a board near the coolers: photos of teenagers with MISSING underneath and phone numbers, advertisements for guaranteed homeopathic remedies to ward off vampires, kittens free to a good home, and one notice reading only CALL MATILDA FOR A BAD TIME.
Tana grabbed a root beer and then a bottle of water for later. At the deli case, she selected the least scary-looking sandwich—turkey and yellow cheese on white bread—and picked up two of them along with half a dozen packets of brown mustard, an apple, and a bottle of ibuprofen. Then she made herself a jumbo-size coffee, emptying in a packet of hot chocolate for good measure.
Dumping her feast in front of the guy behind the bulletproof glass, she paid for that and the gas. She had about forty dollars left, the remainder of her last paycheck from her part-time job at the movie theater concession stand. Forty dollars and a very sketchy plan.
Tana wasn’t sure how much Aidan knew about what going Cold was actually like, but if he was picturing himself in a hotel room, watching television, and sweating through it as if it were some kind of drug withdrawal, then he was picturing it all wrong. Once he was in the grips of the hunger, he’d break down the door if he could. They’d attack each other. And then they’d attack other people, maybe even kill them. Spread the infection even further.
But if they weren’t going to go to Coldtown and they weren’t going to hole up somewhere, their only choice was to turn around and go home. Drive Aidan back to his house. Talk to his mother, a small, quiet woman in a housedress who had made Tana cups of tea when she came over and never commented on any of the outfits she or Aidan wore. Tana would have to explain that her son had gone Cold. Talk to his father, whom Tana had never even met. Tell them—and then what? Were they really ready to confine Aidan somehow and ignore his screams, knowing that if he got loose, someone would get hurt and they’d get arrested? Or would they ship him off to Coldtown anyway and pretend there were never any other choices?
And what about her? Where could she go to sweat out the infection? Not the basement, where her screams would echo off the walls as her mother’s had. Not the basement, where Pearl could hear her.
“Okay,” Tana told herself, with a sigh, taking a big swig from her mocha. “Time to go.”
Outside, the cool breeze blew back her hair and the bag of food swung from her hand. She was looking forward to sitting down and eating. Then, after she felt a little less light-headed, she would decide on a route.
As she headed across the station to her car, she noticed that the trunk of the Crown Vic was open.
“Aidan,” she said, her voice hushed.
Slowly, dread in her step, she crossed the asphalt.
The locking mechanism had been torn off and one of the hinges seemed loose, as though bent. Chains were coiled in a pile where Gavriel should have been, along with the remains of the blankets and black garbage bags.
“How did he—” Aidan started, then stopped himself.
“He tore them,” Tana said, pointing to a metal link, warped out of shape, stretched and broken on one end. “If he did this, then he could—he could have always gotten free. Back at the house. He played us.”
“Maybe they’re weaker during the day,” Aidan said. “Like, this one time, I found a bat just sitting on the side of the bank in town in the middle of the afternoon. It was tiny and looked really miserable, so I stuck it in my shoe and brought it home. I thought it would be cool to have a pet bat, so I kept it in this old birdcage and it just chilled out. Until night. Then it wasn’t docile anymore. It got out somehow and started flying around like crazy. When it spread its wings, it looked like this giant, massive—”
“Aidan,” Tana said. “He’s not a bat.” She stared at the mauled metal of the trunk and the way the chains were torn like tinfoil instead of steel.
He shouldn’t have been able to do that. Vampires were stronger than humans, but not that strong.
“There’s a reason people used to say they turned into bats,” said Aidan cryptically.
She sighed. Maybe he was right—in a way. Maybe like the bat in the birdcage, Gavriel had been waiting for dark, waiting to get out of the chains, drink Aidan’s blood, and escape. But when she showed up, he figured he could use them for a ride through daylight, so long as he seemed harmless enough to need saving. A chill crept up her spine.
“Well, he’s gone now. It’s just you and me.” Aidan grinned lazily at her. It was the exact expression he always wore when he was about to talk her into something.
“Yeah,” said Tana. He kept staring and his expression shifted. She didn’t think he was seeing her anymore. He was seeing skin and bone and blood. She took a step back. The tire iron was on the passenger-side seat where she’d left it. She’d never reach it in time. “So let’s get back in the car and keep going. Maybe find a hotel like you said.” She was just talking, trying to say something that would distract him. “Hole up, like you said.”
“Or we could give in to temptation.” He shook his head slowly, coming closer. “Think about it.”