A World of New (A Shade of Vampire, #26)

He tried to move so suddenly off the bed it was as though he’d forgotten that his legs weren’t working. Shayla and I pushed him back down.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Shayla said, settling him back down against the pillows. She glanced out of the window. “It’s dark now. After what you’ve just been through, you should rest. God knows, after that scare I could do with some rest too. We’ll return first thing tomorrow morning, all right? And we’ll see what other memories return to you.”

He looked reluctant, but nodded. It was clear that there was no arguing with Shayla.

The witch left us to go explore the kitchen to see if she could find any long-life food worthy of eating down there while I sat with Josh… Lawrence.

I still hadn’t gotten my head around it. His words were still sinking in.

“Lawrence Conway,” I murmured, staring at him as he rested on the pillows. “Who is that?”

“Wish I knew,” he muttered. He looked agitated, fidgety, like the last thing he wanted to do right now was lie in bed. He propped himself up against the headboard. “But it shows that you were right, Grace,” he said in a softer tone, meeting my eyes. “My memories haven’t gone anywhere. I have them. They’re just… stuck beneath the surface. Tomorrow, when we return, I just know more will return to me. I can hardly wait.”

Shayla returned, carrying three bowls of steaming hot soup on a tray, and two large bottles of water. “Found all this down in the bunker. Canned soup is good for another year.” She chuckled. She handed a bowl to Lawrence and one to me. Lawrence accepted the soup, though hardly ate a spoonful. Even if he had been feeling starved, in his excitement, I doubted he would be able to eat anything.

Shayla cleared away the bowls once we were done with them and then suggested that we all get some sleep. She promised that we would leave early tomorrow—no later than 6 AM—and it was in Lawrence’s interest to sleep. The time would pass more quickly.

Given that the two bedrooms contained a double bed each, we were now faced with the matter of who would sleep where. I quickly volunteered to rest on the sofa, even though Shayla said that she didn’t mind.

Shayla retired to her bedroom with one of the water bottles, leaving Lawrence and me to wind down. I opened up my suitcase that had been resting on Lawrence’s bedside table and unpacked some essentials—pajamas, toothpaste and toothbrushes. I helped Lawrence to the bathroom where I waited while he brushed his teeth with the bottled water. He still appeared to be in quite a daze, but he seemed… genuinely happy. Relieved, in spite of whatever pain his body was still giving him.

As nervous as I still felt about the whole affair—what exactly he might end up discovering about himself—my mood couldn’t help but lift, too. I’d been around this man so intensely and incessantly for so many days in a row, my mind so wired into his needs, his happiness, it came as kind of a shock to realize how much my own happiness had come to depend on his when I was with him. But I guessed, as a caregiver, that could simply be chalked up to me doing my job right. A good caregiver was supposed to be deeply empathetic.

Once Lawrence had finished brushing his teeth, he wheeled himself out to the bedroom, allowing me to have the bathroom all to myself. I closed the door and changed into my pajamas, then brushed my teeth.

When I emerged in the bedroom about ten minutes later, to my horror, it was to find Lawrence sitting up in bed… clutching my pink, polka-dot notebook.

“No!” I squealed. “Jo—Lawrence!” I rushed to the bed and grabbed it from him, even as amusement sparked in his eyes.

I felt absolutely mortified to imagine how much he had read already. Although it was supposed to just be notes and observations about him, as time had gone on, it had become almost like a diary. I’d also found myself jotting down some of my own inner thoughts and feelings regarding my interactions with him. I’d never thought he would actually read them!

“How did you get a hold of this?” I scolded him.

“You left it by my bedside,” he said matter-of-factly. “Seeing that you placed it so close to me, I didn’t think that it would be anything very private.”

I cursed myself. I must’ve planted the notebook down on the table while I was unpacking the toothbrushes and forgotten to replace it in the suitcase.

“I’m sorry,” he went on, the corners of his lips still curved. “Though I’m not sure what you are so embarrassed about.”

Ugh. I found myself flipping through the notebook in a panic, reminding myself of what I’d written. “How far did you get into this?” I asked.

“Not far,” he said. “Just the first page…”

That’s why you didn’t find anything too embarrassing yet.

“I would really like to finish reading it, though, if you would allow me, Grace.”