First Bitten (28 page)

“
Stay safe,” Craig says to Nate.

Nathan gives him a nod and slowly pulls the car forward. Craig steps back, moving out the way. Erin waves from where she stands. I force a smile and wave to her. Then I realise I haven’t said goodbye to Honor and Hope. I open my mouth to say as much to Nathan, desperately wanting to go back and see them one last time, but think better of it. So, instead, I just wind the window up and steal a quick glance at the house before it disappears out of my sight.

* * *

We’ve been driving for thirty minutes in absolute silence, not even the radio for company, and it’s taken me this long to finally pluck up the courage to speak.

“
Where are we going?” I edge out tentatively, fiddling with the metal button on my denim jacket.

“
Scotland.”

I let me eyes slide sideways to look at Nathan. He’s focussed on the road ahead, frown lines etched deep into his forehead. “Any particular reason ... Scotland?”

He takes his eyes off the road for a moment to give me a hard stare. The disdain in them is like razor blades against my skin. He looks back out through the windscreen. I practically sigh with relief when he does. “You need to get as far away from here as possible. The Originals are in the UK and they are looking for you.” His voice is cold. A shiver of absolute terror runs down my spine. “And as you can’t currently leave the country, Scotland is as good an option as any. It’s big and we should be able to move around pretty much unnoticed.”

He reaches over to my side, opens up the glove box and pulls out a baseball cap. He drops it onto my lap. “Put this on,” he orders. “I need to make a stop in the next village.”

I pick the baseball cap up and run my finger over the motif. It’s the cap he was wearing the day he came to see me when I was cleaning out Honor’s stable with Sol, the day which started the change of everything between us.

Feeling a lump in my throat, I gather up my long blonde hair and twist it up to sit on the top of my head, and pull the cap on.

We enter the village a few minutes later. It’s quiet. There’s not a soul around.

Nathan parks the car up on the roadside by the local shop. “Keep your head down. I’ll only be a few minutes,” he says, switching off the engine and getting out of the car.

I slouch down in my seat, hiding my face under the peak of the cap. I watch him go into the shop. He comes out less than a minute later and walks a bit further down the street and goes into what looks to be a chemist. I wonder what he’s buying.

The sky suddenly rolls in dark, and from out of nowhere the heavens open. The rain beats down hard on the car. Moving forward, I peer out through the windscreen just in time to see a blue flash of lightening. Keeping my face close to the windscreen, I count out loud, my breath fogging up the glass, “One Mississippi ... two Mississippi ... three … ”

The thunder crack is so loud that I nearly jump out of my skin even though I am expecting it. Wrapping my thin jacket around me, I shrink back into my seat.

A minute later, through the haze of rain, I see Nathan jogging quickly down the street toward the car. He’s getting soaked. His leather jacket is doing little to keep him dry. And suddenly, from out of nowhere, I feel a longing for him inside so strong that it nearly chokes me.

He climbs into the car, bringing the damp in with him. His face is glistening from the rain. He runs a hand over his hair, freeing the settled raindrops, unknowingly showering me with a fine mist. I say nothing. He turns the engine on, cranking the air con up to hot, unzips his coat and pulls out from inside it a small plastic carrier bag. He hands it to me without a word.

Taking it curiously, I open it up and peer inside. There’s a pair of scissors and a dark brown hair dye.

I look from the bag to him, a sudden sense of dread filling me. “Hair dye?” I question in a tight voice.

He pulls off his wet coat and throws it onto the back seat. “You need to change your appearance. It’ll help us move around a lot easier if you’re not so easily recognisable to people. It’s not gonna help with the Originals knowing you exist, but if Joe Public recognise you from your picture in the paper, we’re basically fucked.” He shifts the car into gear and drives forward.

“
And the scissors, what are they for?” It’s a stupid question, I know. But still, I have to ask.

“
What do you think they’re for?” His tone is hard.

“
You want to cut my hair?” I swallow.

“
No, Alex, I want you to cut your hair.”

“
But I don’t want to cut my hair.” I shy away, putting a protective hand to my head.

“
I don’t give a fuck what you want!” he suddenly roars, slamming the breaks on. I jolt forward. The bag flies out of my hand. The seat belt tightens, digging me hard in the ribs, knocking the wind out of me.

Easing the seatbelt off, I put a shaky hand to my sore ribs, trying to catch my breath. From out of the corner of my eye I can see Nathan’s shoulders rising and falling with each angry breath he takes, his hands gripping the steering wheel.

A second later, without another word, he shifts the car into drive and pulls forward.

Tears have formed in my eyes. I blink them back and turn away, looking out of the window as Nathan drives us into the unknown.

Chapter 25

Ipseity

The next few hours in the car are painful.

I’m relieved when the weather worsens and Nathan finally relents, pulling into the next services to get us a hotel room for the night.

“
I got us an adjoining room,” he says coming to a stop outside room six-two-nine. He slots the key card into the lock, opens the door for me and hands me the key.

He stands aside.

I walk past him into the room and drop my bags down on the double bed. “Thanks,” I say, turning back. He’s leaning up against the door jamb, his own bag still in his hand. There’s a brief but awkward silence. I wrap my arms around my chest for something to do with them.

“
I’m going to get some sleep.” He reaches in and closes my door. Seconds later I hear the click of the next door room.

I’m all alone.

I grab the remote control off the desk and turn on the TV. I sit down on the edge of the bed and start flicking through the channels.

My eyes drift around the room. There’s a small fridge. Nathan must have requested a room with one so I can keep my limited supply of blood fresh.

I wonder what I’ll do when it runs out; hunt for myself, I guess. I wish I’d taken Nathan up on his offer to teach me now. Maybe I’ll ask him to teach me before he leaves.

A tightness settles itself into my chest.

I put the remote down on the bed, open up the cooler bag, take a bottle of blood out, put it on the bedside table, and go and put the rest in the fridge. I don’t bother unpacking my clothes, figuring I won’t be here long enough to warrant it, so I just store my bag in the bottom of the wardrobe.

I sit back on the bed, pick my bottle of blood up and immerse myself in other people’s lives on the TV, desperately trying to forget my own.

After an hour, I finally bite the bullet, knowing I can’t put it off forever, and pick the plastic bag up and take it to the bathroom with me.

Standing over the sink, I empty the contents of the bag into it.

I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m a ghost. I’m nobody. I don’t matter to anyone.

So then, I guess, it shouldn’t matter what I look like anymore either.

Without allowing a second thought, I pick the scissors up, pull my hair to the nape of my neck and start cutting.

My blonde hair litters the floor. I glance down at it. Stupid tears leak from my eyes. Sucking it up, I dry my face on my arm, pinch my lower lip between my teeth and continue to cut.

When I’m finished, I have a chin-length bob. I don’t know how short Nathan wanted it, but I thought it best to at least have some hair left to hide behind.

Collecting my old hair up from the floor, I dump it in the bin and open up the box of hair dye. I read the instructions, mix up the dye and lather it all over my light hair. Then I pull the toilet seat down, sit quietly and untangle painful thoughts in my mind while waiting the long fifteen minutes for the dye to do its job.

When my fifteen minutes are up, I peel my clothes off and get in the shower. Soon enough the water is running clear of the dye, so I get out and wrap my hair and body up in the hotel provided towels.

I pad my way back into the room, go to the wardrobe and get a pair of my pyjamas out of my bag.

There’s a knock at my door. I look at it surprised. I thought Nathan would still be sleeping.

I drop my pyjamas onto the bed and go to look through the peep hole, checking it is him. It is.

I open up the door.

I smell the alcohol on him instantly. He hasn’t slept at all. He must have gone down to the hotel bar. This isn’t good, but understandable.

His eyes do a quick sweep of my body. Feeling self-conscious, I tighten the towel around me.

“
I brought you some food.” He holds out a pre-packed sandwich. “It was all they had.”

“
Thanks.” I reach out and take it from him. My fingers graze his hand. He shoves his hands in his pockets. Lingering, he looks at anything but me.

“
Do you wanna come in and have a coffee?” I ask and wait for the rebuff.

“
Sure.” He nods.

Hiding my surprise, I step back, allowing him space to pass by. His nearness makes my heart and head hurt.

I put the sandwich down on the desk, go over to the kettle and switch it on.

“
I’ll go get changed,” I say, picking up my pyjamas and heading for the bathroom, desperately trying not to hope on the fact he’s actually here with me.

When I’m dressed, I stand in front of the mirror trying to pluck up the courage to look at my hair.

Stop being stupid, Alex, it’s just hair. It’s done now, there’s no changing it. Come on, deep breath, and on the count of three.

One... two... three.

I whip the towel from my hair.

Okay, so dark hair does not suit me, at all. Seriously, if Carrie were here she would be taking the piss. Come to think of it, so would Sol. A painful smile forces its way onto my lips.

I tidy my damp towels onto the rails and go out to make Nathan’s coffee. He’s sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room.

In the silence I make us both a coffee. I carry Nathan’s over to him. He takes it without a word. I sit myself down on the bed, cradling my own cup in my hands.

“
You look different,” he observes.

“
Wasn’t that the point?” There’s an edge to my voice I didn’t intend.

He sets his cup down on the floor. “Have you had some blood?”

“
When we first arrived.” I sip my coffee.

He leans forward in his seat, resting his forearms on his thighs, hands clasped together. He looks down.

“
Have you eaten?” I ask him, indicating the sandwich on the desk.

He shakes his head.

“
You really should eat something,” I urge gently.

His eyes snap up at me. “When I need your concern, I’ll ask for it. Until that time, back the fuck off.”

The atmosphere disintegrates to something near horrendous. My eyes are wide with surprise, hot tears pricking the back of them. Nathan abruptly stands and strides toward the interconnecting door.

“
You’re going?” I ask. My tone comes out needy.

“
Looks that way.” His is detached.

“
But your coffee, you haven’t touched it.”

“
I changed my mind.”

I get the distinct impression he’s referring to something altogether different than the coffee. He opens the door connecting our rooms. “Be ready to leave at six in the morning. We’ll get on the road again while it’s quiet.”

And the last thing I hear from him is the cold hard click of the lock as he locks me out, permanently.

Chapter 26

Imputed

I open my eyes up to the white ceiling in yet another hotel room in another part of Scotland. The silence is all around me as I breathe in the stale, warm reproduced air the air conditioning system is funnelling out.

This is how it’s been for the last week, Nathan and I staying in hotels night after night, big enough and generic enough so we go relatively unnoticed as we move around Scotland, going to places I’ve never even heard of before where the accents are so thick I struggle to understand what people are saying. Not that I actually have any interaction with people, or Nathan, for that matter.

He still barely talks to me. He never talks about Sol and he drinks, a lot. Nathan has always liked drinking but this is something else entirely. He’s not drinking for enjoyment now, he’s drinking to forget. And I wonder for just how much longer we can both continue this way.