downstairs?”
“Homework – school work assigned to do at home.”
“How does school and homework help you survive?”
“Some jobs require you to have certain knowledge. And a good job means lots of money, which makes surviving easier,” he replied.
I nodded, understanding him for once. “And if you don't have money?”
“You've seen them on the streets, homeless people, begging and asking for spare change.”
“They do seem to be struggling. Do you have lots of money?”
He chuckled at me. “Aunt Dee gives me an allowance, but that's the beauty of being fifteen. Money's not that big of a problem, that's the parents' worry.”
I frowned. “I murdered our parents.”
Grief flashed through his eyes. “Yeah, they used to worry about money for both of us.” He gave me a forced smile. “Aunt Dee and Uncle Dick worry for me now and money probably doesn’t matter to you anymore.”
“Next time I hunt, I'll check the human. You can have that money,” I offered.
His words were chosen carefully, trying to explain. “No, I won't take any money you give me, not if it's off some dead person you killed. That would taint the money. Do you understand?”
“Like our home?”
He nodded.
“I won't take any money off my prey then,” I vowed.
That got a weak smile from him. He settled against the window frame, staring past me. “You know, as hard as it is seeing you like this and trying to deal with you, I'd rather have you with me as a vampire than dead. I don't think I could deal with everyone being dead. I'd truly be alone without you.”
“I don't want you to feel alone.”
“Good to hear.” Amusement filled his voice, like the fact I felt I had to state the obvious to him was humorous.
A smile crept up on me and I prolonged it for him.
“That's creepy,” he sighed and I laughed. His eyes widened and he sat up. “Okay, now that I can't handle.”
“What?”
“You smiling and laughing. Holy crap, that was too much creepiness. Go back to being void and emotionless. I can handle that creepy look better than what you just did. I swear, my heart just tried to run away.”
I laughed and smiled more.
****
Only two rhythms beat, both in the lower level of the house. I peeked in the windows, looking through cracks in the curtains. My aunt and uncle sat in their chairs, eyes glued to the TV, but there was no sign of my brother.
I froze with my fist hovering centimeters from the glass, remembering a promise. Not of how I promised I wouldn't kill any more family members, but of another. I promised I wouldn't linger outside the lower floor windows. It was so important to my brother that he used my name, ensuring I would listen.
Whatever you do, whatever happens, don't let them see you. Promise, Tommy!
I lowered my hand, feeling hurt. He didn’t trust me, felt he had to use the power of my name to ensure I listened. I wanted him to trust me, to believe that when he asked something of me, I'd do it out of love for him and not because the power of my name bound me to the request.
I sank back into the shadows, moving silently to the back of the house. I darted up the side, perching myself outside his bedroom window to wait. To the west, light from the sun lingered on the horizon. I watched it fade, realizing how stupid that had been to wander around the house. Humans might have seen me in the dim light; their eyesight was good enough to detect movement in twilight. They'd misunderstand when they saw me too. Assume the reason I was there was to finish the job .
Didn't it occur to any of them that if I wanted my brother dead, he'd be dead? I would have done it the night I murdered our parents.
Something crinkled as I leaned back into the shadow. Tilting my head, I tugged the paper free.
Tommy,
I honestly have no idea if you can read this. I'm assuming you can since you remember how to walk and talk. If not, I'm sure I'll find you ranting and raving about my whereabouts when I get home. I
“Homework – school work assigned to do at home.”
“How does school and homework help you survive?”
“Some jobs require you to have certain knowledge. And a good job means lots of money, which makes surviving easier,” he replied.
I nodded, understanding him for once. “And if you don't have money?”
“You've seen them on the streets, homeless people, begging and asking for spare change.”
“They do seem to be struggling. Do you have lots of money?”
He chuckled at me. “Aunt Dee gives me an allowance, but that's the beauty of being fifteen. Money's not that big of a problem, that's the parents' worry.”
I frowned. “I murdered our parents.”
Grief flashed through his eyes. “Yeah, they used to worry about money for both of us.” He gave me a forced smile. “Aunt Dee and Uncle Dick worry for me now and money probably doesn’t matter to you anymore.”
“Next time I hunt, I'll check the human. You can have that money,” I offered.
His words were chosen carefully, trying to explain. “No, I won't take any money you give me, not if it's off some dead person you killed. That would taint the money. Do you understand?”
“Like our home?”
He nodded.
“I won't take any money off my prey then,” I vowed.
That got a weak smile from him. He settled against the window frame, staring past me. “You know, as hard as it is seeing you like this and trying to deal with you, I'd rather have you with me as a vampire than dead. I don't think I could deal with everyone being dead. I'd truly be alone without you.”
“I don't want you to feel alone.”
“Good to hear.” Amusement filled his voice, like the fact I felt I had to state the obvious to him was humorous.
A smile crept up on me and I prolonged it for him.
“That's creepy,” he sighed and I laughed. His eyes widened and he sat up. “Okay, now that I can't handle.”
“What?”
“You smiling and laughing. Holy crap, that was too much creepiness. Go back to being void and emotionless. I can handle that creepy look better than what you just did. I swear, my heart just tried to run away.”
I laughed and smiled more.
****
Only two rhythms beat, both in the lower level of the house. I peeked in the windows, looking through cracks in the curtains. My aunt and uncle sat in their chairs, eyes glued to the TV, but there was no sign of my brother.
I froze with my fist hovering centimeters from the glass, remembering a promise. Not of how I promised I wouldn't kill any more family members, but of another. I promised I wouldn't linger outside the lower floor windows. It was so important to my brother that he used my name, ensuring I would listen.
Whatever you do, whatever happens, don't let them see you. Promise, Tommy!
I lowered my hand, feeling hurt. He didn’t trust me, felt he had to use the power of my name to ensure I listened. I wanted him to trust me, to believe that when he asked something of me, I'd do it out of love for him and not because the power of my name bound me to the request.
I sank back into the shadows, moving silently to the back of the house. I darted up the side, perching myself outside his bedroom window to wait. To the west, light from the sun lingered on the horizon. I watched it fade, realizing how stupid that had been to wander around the house. Humans might have seen me in the dim light; their eyesight was good enough to detect movement in twilight. They'd misunderstand when they saw me too. Assume the reason I was there was to finish the job .
Didn't it occur to any of them that if I wanted my brother dead, he'd be dead? I would have done it the night I murdered our parents.
Something crinkled as I leaned back into the shadow. Tilting my head, I tugged the paper free.
Tommy,
I honestly have no idea if you can read this. I'm assuming you can since you remember how to walk and talk. If not, I'm sure I'll find you ranting and raving about my whereabouts when I get home. I
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