Cross My Heart
firstly, Vampires aren’t blue, andsecondly, they only lose their hair when they transform.”“Because they actuallylook like normal people?”
“Yes. When theytransform, their eyes turn black, their jaws dislocate toaccommodate their fangs, and their tongues fork and extend.”
“Like a snake?”
“Yes.” She didn’t batan eyelid, didn’t stutter, didn’t even look like she was going tolaugh at the idiocy of what had just come out of her mouth. She wasserious, as always.
“Come on, Elle.” Irolled my eyes. “That doesn’t sound like a Vampire at all.”
“That’s because you’reuse to watching Hollywood’s representation.” She pushed her palmsinto the stone and carefully stood up. “Trust me, they’rehideous.”
“Uh-huh, and how manyhave you seen to date?”
“Four.” She wiped herpalms against her denim dungarees.
“And how many have youkilled again?”
“Three.”
There came that chilldown my spine again. “Y’know, you scare me sometimes.”
“Just promise me youwill carry a pocketknife around with you when you’re out at nightand get yourself something silver to wear.”
“Because they’reallergic?”
“Yes, and if youmanage t’shove the item into their throats, it would buy you enoughtime to get away—”
“Jesus, Elle.” Ipushed myself up until I was eye to eye with her. “I’m not aboutt’start throwing jewellery down people’s throats.”
“Not peoples.Vampires.” Her left hand landed on my right arm, steadying me. “Ican’t ... I can’t protect you in Switzerland, Than.” Her green eyessuddenly looked bigger, wetter.
In all the years wehad been friends, I had never seen her cry, but right now, I waspretty sure she was close. It was an uncomfortable sight, and I waspretty sure that if I took the mickey out of her, she would push meoff this wall, which wasn’t that high but high enough to stillbloody hurt.
“It’s alright, Elle.”I gave her a smile and took hold of her elbow, squeezing gently. “Iknow that you’re going t’miss me. I am your only friend, afterall.”
That earned me an eyeroll. “Besides Heather.”
“She’s your secondcousin, so she doesn’t really count as a friend.”
I knew she and Ellewere close, but Heather hardly ever left the house, which had tosuck especially because she was home-schooled. Ten years old and nofriends. Her mother had committed suicide only two years prior; itwas sad. The few times Elle had brought her out with us, she’dalways looked so damn uncomfortable and worried. Poor kid.
“Well?” I gave her alittle shake. “You going to admit that you will miss me, or do Ihave t’force it out of you?”
Her gaze didn’t leavemine, her fingers flexing on my arm. “I’m scared I will never seeyou again.”
My stomachflip-flopped at the whispered reply, and my earlier frustrationreared its head again. My parents were moving me away from myhometown, my school, grandparents, and friends, from Elle. Did theyeven care or know what they were doing?
“I’ll visit. Mygrandma is still here so we will be back at least a couple times ayear, but more importantly, I will email you. We can be penfriends.”
It wasn’t fair. Myparents were ruining my life all for the sake of a job—a job myfather started in a month, which meant we only had three weeks topack up and do whatever the hell people did when they movedcountries.
I had to start allover again: new school, new friends, and I would be all alone. NoElle and her idiotic stories and crazy drama to make it all easier.This was one of the last times we would hang out … maybe the lasttime we would properly hang out.
I suddenly felt sick.I wanted to shout and cry, break something or run, do anything thatwould stop the churning in my stomach. My forehead was pressedagainst hers before I realized I’d even moved. It wasn’t fair. Howwere you supposed to say goodbye to someone you had known for yourwhole life?
My grip tightened onher arm. “I promise we will see each other again.”
The shadows hadfinally reached us. The cold cradled my left side while the dyingwarmth of the almost-set sun still touched my right.
Tears had formed inher green eyes, and I was pretty sure I could feel them brimming inmy own.
She placed her righthand on my chest. “Cross your heart?”
A smirk curled thecorner of my mouth. “And hope to die.”
She tilted her headand pressed her mouth to mine. Her lips were soft and gentle—wordsI would never use to describe Danielle. My brain seemed to goblank, unable to register the fact that my best friend was kissingme, and before I could decide what the heck to do, she had pulledaway.
My focus remained onher as she slipped her arm from my grasp.
Her attention went tothe gravestones below. “You should be careful what you wish for,Than.”
ChapterOne
The dream darkened.The images disintegrated to ash as something deep inside mestirred. That unusual, invisible tug I had quickly learnt was mynew alarm clock, my body telling me that I now had to be awake, andtherefore, without my consent, it pulled me into the realm ofsemi-consciousness. The innocent dream got lost in darkness.
No, not a dream. Ididn’t have the luxury of dreaming anymore. It was just a memory,and one that kept replaying in my mind every time I closed myeyes—my subconscious telling me that I owed an old friend one big,fat apology; an apology that would surely get me an ‘I told you so’as a reply, and that was presuming I ever got to see her again.
It was the truth.Everything she’d ever told me ... It’s all real.
The past seemed like apleasant place to live, but then again, anything was better than mycurrent predicament, which proved nothing short of a nightmare. Acold, dark, twisted nightmare.
“I told you t’becareful what you wish for.”
Her voice rang in asoft and sweet whisper that I could feel dance across my skin, theusual taunting tone accompanying her words.
“Go away, Elle.”
“Make me.”
A lock clicked. Hingeswhined as heavy, rusted metal scraped against concrete. Lightbriefly touched my face, only to be overtaken by an unfamiliarpresence that filled my door frame. My eyeballs hurt behind mylids, but I didn’t bother opening my eyes and indulging in the mildcuriosity that involuntary tickled the back of my mind. Truth betold, I didn’t have the bloody energy to even try to look. Thenagain, if I