"Everything will be alright in the end. So if it is not alright, it is not yet the end."

Chapter Twenty One

The rain had all but stopped, abruptly, the way summer showers often did. The clouds remained in a murky, aubergine haze behind which the stars glittered meekly like foggy diamonds. The night air crowded around them, oppressively thick and pregnant with unspent moisture, pushing in on them like a moist vice.

Dwayne's bike ate up the ground like it was trying to outrun the humidity itself, gliding over the uneven terrain as effortlessly as if over slick, unblemished pavement. Of course, they might have been standing still for all the good it did them. Missy realized, with some dismay, that she could already feel her hair puffing up like warm bread dough, and they'd barely come halfway to the boardwalk. She struggled with the urge to take one of her hands away from Dwayne's cool, bare waist to pat her hair down, and the only thing that stayed her arm was the fear that if she let go, she'd be sucked backwards off the bike and left to hang there in the air like Wile E. Coyote until she looked down, whereupon her face and the ground would perform a gruesome reenactment of Newton's first law.

Missy didn't know a lot about motorcycles or psychics, but she knew enough about inertia to know that in the ongoing epic of her face versus the ground, her face rarely came out on top, or in one piece, for that matter.

She thought she could feel Dwayne's abdominal muscles jerking beneath her tightly interwoven fingers, and supposed that he might have been laughing at her. That, or the banality of her thoughts had triggered his gag reflex, and he was about to be violently sick all over himself.

It was a tossup.

The bitter wind clawed at her face, and she grumbled petulantly, "I told you not to do that." She ducked her head against the hair that spilled down over the back of Dwayne's jacket, blinking the water out of her eyes and breathing in the rain that still scented the damp, tangled strands.

Missy had reconciled herself to the fact that David, Dwayne, Marko, and Paul were unapologetic, bloodthirsty killers, and that she would be long dead and turned to dust before that was ever going to change. Which would have been bad enough on its own, without having to screen her thoughts against curious vampires who snickered like errant teenage boys one minute, and ripped someone's throat out the next.

Of course, none of that (though, admittedly, the throat ripping came pretty close) to being half as unsettling as the realization that she'd never know for sure that she was in control of her own actions, that David wasn't pulling her strings for her.

By all rights, she knew she should have been six feet under by now, Lord knows David had had ample opportunities to finish her off by know. She was only alive because either David didn't really want her dead, or because he didn't want her dead yet.

Her train of thought derailed violently when the nose of Marko's bike abruptly cut in front of them, close enough that the fox tail hanging from the left handlebar brushed the back of her arm. The noise that came out of her was something like the sound of an animal being trod under foot. "Is he crazy?" She hissed. "He could've killed us!"

Dwayne did not as much as blink to acknowledge their near miss. Missy leaned into his shoulder to watch Marko's taillight fade. "Where's Marko going?" She hissed. "The boardwalk is this way." She indicated the direction they were headed by raising her chin. "He went left. Why did he go left? Where's he taking Eden?" Her heart skipped abruptly. "Dwayne. Is Marko going to kill Eden?" A beat. "Dwayne?" She squeezed her arms around him desperately to get him to say something, anything.

"No." He said at last.

"Where's he taking her then?" Dwayne didn't respond this time.

Shocking, really.

Missy sighed. "You know, this whole 'strong and silent' thing is really unattractive." She watched the corner of Dwayne's darkly stubbled mouth curl in the flashing light from the boardwalk. He steered them into the crowd, his smile growing at the edges as Missy grumbled near the vicinity of his ear, "Stupid mind-reading vampires."

The bike rolled to a stop near the carousel, the jaunty music swelling up over the noise of the engine. Her thoughts strayed unwittingly to her mother, and she couldn't help feeling that there was something she was supposed to be doing. Not doing, her mind corrected. Dwayne killed the engine and squeezed her knee to get her attention. She slid off the bike to join him beside it, bending down to rub the feeling back into her legs, and the feeling of Dwayne's hand out. "You ever get that feeling you're forgetting something really important?" She straightened up, glancing sidelong at the vampire, whose dark eyes revealed nothing but her frustrated reflection. "Of course not." She mumbled.

"How do you know it's important?" Dwayne said after a long time of watching Missy watch him.

"What's important?" She replied, confusion alighting on her face.

"What you're forgetting," said Dwayne. "How do you know it's important?"

"I don't." She admitted. "It's just a feeling I have, like you get when something's wrong, I can't explain it. Don't vampires ever get weird vibes?"

Dwayne tilted his head. "Don't say vampire." He stepped away from her and disappeared into the crowd.

Missy jogged lightly to catch up to him, calling loudly over the din. "Sorry." She adjusted her long stride to match his. "Continue?" Trying to get a conversation out of Dwayne was about as difficult and pointless as trying to get blood from a stone, but it occupied her thoughts, and that was preferable to worrying herself to death about everything else. She'd take what she could get.

"Have you ever been to a cemetery?"

"Once." After her mother's suicide, her father had gone to war with their church to get them to permit her burial. In the end, they'd had her cremated and spread the ashes over the lake beside her grandparents' cabin. The only time she'd set foot in a cemetery had been for her father's funeral.

"Certain places," he gave her a significant look. Places like cemeteries, her mind supplied for her. "give off certain energies. You call them 'weird vibes'. It's why humans find them so unsettling." Dwayne's cold fingers brushed her nape. "Have you ever had the hair on the back of your neck stand up for no reason?"

Missy swatted at his hand. "Who hasn't?"

"Most humans can pick up on the unnatural, or supernatural" he added with a sly sideways glance. "to a certain extent. Some are just more sensitive than others. Psychics, mediums…vampires."

"If that's true," Missy asked, crossing her arms and slipping her hands up the opposite sleeves. "then how come I didn't 'sense' or whatever, what you all were?" She'd gotten the impression from the moment she met them that the boys were dangerous, but nothing about them had clued her in to the fact that they weren't human.

"I did say most." Dwayne pointed out.

"Hmm." Missy mumbled, letting her head drop a little, until her chin brushed her chest.

"Do you eat hamburgers?"

Startled, Missy's head shot up, and she gaped at the vampire at her side. That's quite a segue, is what she thought. What she said, was "Huh?"

Dwayne lifted his chin, and Missy followed his gaze, to the overweight, sweaty vendor some five yards away, slapping half-thawed patties out on a hot griddle, where they sizzled and popped in the old grease that had been used to coat it. The smell slammed into her like a wall, an unpleasant cocktail of stale grease, raw meat, and BO.

Her nose crinkled up, and she gagged, her vision going dark for a heartbeat. "Those aren't hamburgers." She didn't know what they were. Crusty, grease sodden slabs of pestilence, maybe, but not burgers.

Dwayne cracked a bit of a smile. "But you do eat them?"

"Sure." She conceded tentatively. Somewhere in the back of her brain, a bad feeling (a vibe, if you will) uncoiled itself like a drowsy snake. She wasn't going to like where this conversation would end up.

"You understand where they come from."

Missy scoffed. She wasn't sure whether to laugh, or be offended. All the same, she knew Dwayne was expecting her to do more than make noises at him. She tucked her hair behind her ears, settling into a frown. "I know where hamburgers come from, Dwayne." She could remember being small, biting into thick, juicy hamburgers and knowing with absolutely certainty that there were a bunch of cows walking around somewhere with great chunks taken out of them, perfectly happy and alive despite their missing bits. "I'm seventeen. Not seven."

Dwayne chuckled at her thoughts, and Missy felt her ears heat up. "Stop doing that."

"Doing what?" He replied, trying and failing for innocent.

"You know what." Missy replied tetchily, wholly unsurprised to discover that Dwayne wasn't in the least bit affected by her bile. She needed to get away from the smell of burning flesh. It made her sick, made her wonder; about what the boys did with the bodies left over after they had their fill, whether they burned them, or if they just pitched them off the edge of the cliff and let the tide carry them out to where no one but the sharks would ever find them.

"Do you like hamburgers?"

"Oh for goodness' sake, yes." Missy snapped. She stopped walking and turned to face him, Dwayne matching her movement for movement. "Yes, I eat hamburgers. Yes, I like them. If you have a point, please, make it. Or are you just frustrating me for chuckles?"

Dwayne waited for her to finish, and then, as though she hadn't spoken at all, went on. "Do you find you enjoy hamburgers any less because something had to die for them to be made?"

Missy's jaw locked up tighter than a bank vault. "I don't want to talk about that, Dwayne." She ground out, averting her eyes.

Dwayne tilted his head placidly. "You criticize us for enjoying what we eat."

"What you eat-" Missy choked. How did they even get to this topic? She took a deep, steadying breath. "People, Dwayne. People. What you do is murder. It's not like going to a restaurant and ordering a steak."

Dwayne's expression darkened. "You're a hypocrite."

"I am not a hypocrite." Missy dug her blunt fingernails into the soft heels of her hands, her lips trembling as something like unadulterated indignation flooded her veins. "There's a big difference between enjoying hamburgers and ripping out someone's insides just because you can." She broke off, licking her lips. "People aren't cows, Dwayne. They're people. They have families who care about them, who'd miss them. Doesn't that bother you?" She didn't know if her opinion of him would be unchanged if he did, but part of her wanted to hope that there was something human underneath the monster. "Not even a little?

"Not as much as starving would." Dwayne replied. "It's self-preservation. It isn't any more complicated than that. We can't help enjoying ourselves any more than you can when you're biting into a nice, juicy hamburger." The comparison made her skin want to crawl right off her body and die. "We're not martyrs, Missy. We don't pretend to be. We don't hate what we are or what we do to survive. We don't feel remorse for these people. They're nothing to us. Everything in nature is food for something else. It just so happens we're the ones sitting at the top of the food chain. Besides, we kill because we have to, can any of you say the same?"

It was a horrific concept to swallow. It was also the longest conversation she could remember Dwayne ever having with her directly. "You can't tell me you don't feel anything. You used to be a person, didn't you? You can't just forget that."

"It's difficult in the beginning." Dwayne acknowledged. "The memories of being human, they're still…fresh."

Missy didn't want to ask, -she wasn't sure she wanted to know- but she did anyway. "So what changed?"

"We did." Dwayne peered critically at the humans milling around them like bees in a hive. "Eventually you forget. You wonder why you were ever bothered in the first place." He shrugged his broad shoulders. "You're human. And young." He added, giving her a long, faintly condescending look. "You wouldn't understand."

"Vampire or not, it doesn't bother you that these people," she gestured to a man and a woman wearing matching tracksuits. "have families?"

"We're careful." Dwayne tapped the side of his head, and Missy, for once, understood what was being hinted at. "It's not that hard. You could throw a rock in any direction on this boardwalk and hit someone that the world wouldn't miss."

"Someone like me?" Missy whispered. Dwayne's expression may have been perfectly blank, but it said everything he didn't. "You're right. I'd be the perfect victim. No family, no friends. Heck, Edgar and Alan are probably the only ones who'd notice I was gone, and they don't even know my last name."

Dwayne tilted his head. "What is your last name?"

Missy bit her lip. She didn't see what it mattered, but it couldn't hurt, telling him. There was nothing more he could do with her full name that he couldn't do to her without it. "Van Buren."

"Missy Van Buren?" Dwayne arched an eyebrow imperceptibly.

"Melissa." Missy sighed. "Melissa Van Buren."

"Melissa." Dwayne's fingers skimmed her collarbone, lifting her locket from where it had settled above her cleavage, turning it around in his palm to read the back. "Why does it say 'Missy'?"

"My-" She froze, the hairs on the back of her neck bristling all at once. She was no psychic, but she knew when she was being stared at. She'd had enough eyes on her back to know it when she felt it. It was not unlike having a bucket of live earthworms dumped on top of her.

"What's wrong?" Dwayne asked, staring down at her arms as if he could see the goose pimples she could feel breaking out beneath her sleeves.

"Nothing." A hard stare. "I don't know. I'm not sure." She could feel eyes crawling on her skin, not Dwayne's only, and she whipped around, her eyes searching the crowd anxiously, for what, she couldn't say. For a brief moment, she thought she feared her imagination had run away with her again, and then she spotted him.

There was a man, not thirty feet from them, standing in the crowd, though apart from it, as though he were too foreign, too unnatural, to be part of the fold. He was older, than her, at least, maybe late twenties, early thirties. She was sure he was staring at her. She shuddered, and he smiled at her.

It would have been strange and disconcerting enough on its own, but it was made all the more so by the fact that standing just behind him, wearing a faded green hospital gown, and an unhappy scowl was the late Marie Van Buren. She was glaring at the back of the man's head so passionately that Missy half expected his hair to begin to smoke from the intensity of her mother's ire. The picture that the pair made was so bizarre that for too long, all Missy could do was stare. She opened her mouth, to scream or to ask Dwayne if he could see them too, she didn't know which, but they were already gone. The crowd poured in to fill the emptiness they left behind, and in a span no longer than a heartbeat, it was like they were never there. "Did you-" Dwayne's shrewd, dark eyes were burning a hole in the spot where the man had been. "That happened." Missy gasped. "That happened. You saw them." She stuck a finger in Dwayne's face, and Dwayne snatched her arm out of the air, squeezing her wrist like it owed him money.

"Let's go." He snapped.

"You saw them, right?" Missy dug her heels into the planks beneath her feet, but Dwayne kept her with him as easily as if he were carrying her outright. "You saw them too."

"Them?" Dwayne asked absently.

"Them." Missy insisted passionately. She'd had too many conversations that began this way, and ended with someone, usually her father, or another in an endless string of therapists, telling her that she was imagining things. "They were there. That guy and my-"

"Your what?" Missy collided with his back before she had the time to notice that Dwayne had stopped walking again. "What did you see?"

"My mom." Missy whispered, her heart settling in the soles of her feet. "You really didn't see her, did you?" She asked brokenly.

Dwayne shook his head, his dark brows furrowing. "I saw him."

"He knew me." Missy said, softly. "You saw it too, didn't you? He looked at me like he knew who I was." A horrible thought struck her, and she grabbed a handful of the sleeve of Dwayne's jacket, the leather supple and warm beneath her fingertips as she fixed her wide, hysterical eyes on Dwayne's impassive face. "Do you think he saw Renee on TV?" And who knew how long it took Marko and Paul to track down all of the posters with her face on them. The man could have seen one of them first. There was also the more frightening possibility that the man she'd seen in the crowd was the private investigator that Renee had contracted to find her. If that were the case, David wouldn't have to concern himself with hunting her down. She'd walk right up to him with a bow and a big fat smile on her face before she'd let that man take her back to Seattle. She had said she'd die before she went back to Renee. She didn't fully understand until now how much she'd meant it.

"Come on." Dwayne pried her hand off his sleeve, taking her by the wrist again, this time without it feeling like he was trying to break it.

"Where are we going? Dwayne?" Dwayne said nothing, having evidently reached his nightly quota for conversation two syllables ago. "Dwayne, stop." She tugged back on her arm, pushing at his shoulder with her free hand. "Let me go."

Dwayne released her arm abruptly, and that, with the momentum of her fighting him, landed her squarely on her tailbone on the damp, sticky ground. "Go to your friends, Missy."

Missy turned her head, astonished and relieved to see Edgar and Alan watching her with no small amount of alarm from inside the store. She stood, brushing off the seat of her pants and glared. "Tell me what's going on."

Dwayne regarded her coolly, saying nothing.

"Don't look at me like that." Missy balled her hands up into fists, putting her back to the store so Edgar and Alan couldn't see her face. "David tried to kill me, I'm having nightmares, and now I'm hallucinating!" She struggled to keep her voice down. "And you and Marko were so weird tonight. And Paul's sulking? Paul? There's something you're not telling me. This is my life, Dwayne, what's left of it, and I don't like secrets. I don't know what's up anymore, I'm scared, and tired, and so freaking done with all of you that it makes me sick." She jabbed a finger in Dwayne's bare chest. He stared down at it, like an ant had just crawled onto him "None of you will leave me alone, none of you. You all just forced yourself into my life. All I wanted was a chance to be happy away from Renee. Why can't any of you let me be?" She said, lowering her gaze, and her voice. "I'm seventeen. I don't want to die. I just want a life." She glanced up at him and saw that he was watching her, his expression clouded and dark. "Why me? Can't you tell me that? Why can't you just kill me or leave me be? Why do you have to keep torturing me like this? I'm holding on by a thread, Dwayne. I can't take this anymore, looking for David around every corner." She pressed a hand against the bandage on her neck. "There are worse things than dying, and one of them's waiting around for David to get bored and finish what he started. I'm done." She clenched her jaw and raised her eyes to meet Dwayne's. "I'm done, and I mean it this time. I don't want anything to do with any of you, and you can tell Marko that goes double for him. I'm through with all of it. No more pigeons, no more cryptic dead people, no more vampires." She finished resolutely. She felt Dwayne's stare burning on her back as she turned away. "Tell David he knows where to find me."

And I swear to God, if I find Paul hiding under my bed again, I'm going to run him through with a chair leg. She wasn't sure how well thoughts traveled, but she had the feeling there was a vampire somewhere who was sporting a pout right about now.

She narrowly avoided slamming headlong into Edgar, who was scowling and pointing aggressively over her shoulder. "What was that?"

"Please." Missy hugged her arms around her middle, biting her lip hard. "Just don't?"

"Edgar-" Alan started, warily.

Edgar turned around his brother, growling, "Something's up. I wanna know what."

"You want to know what's up?" Missy shrieked. "Join the club." With that, she stalked off, stamping her feet the whole way up the stairs and slamming her door shut behind her. She was two steps into her room before she turned around, opened the door, and slammed it two more times for good measure.

Nothing says "I don't want to be bothered" like superfluous door slamming.

Behind her door, the tears she'd held at bay before came back with reinforcements, and she slid down the wall, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyelids to hold back the flood. "I don't know what to do." She sobbed, grinding her face into her palms. "Tell me what to do." Give up, something inside of her said, but somewhere deep inside of her, she knew she already had. She was just a girl. How could she hope to hold against vampires? It had always been a matter of time, and time was on the side of the immortals.

For a long time, she cried. Held her head in her hands and cried harder than she could remember since her father passed. When her eyes were swollen and dry, she crawled into her bed and curled into a ball, shoes and all.

"You forgot to check under the bed." She whispered to herself, pulling the blanket up over her head. But she was tired. So very tired. If there was a monster under her bed, it could stay there. She didn't care anymore.

"Missy?" The voice filtered softly through her door. "Can I come in?"

"Go away, Alan." She sniffled, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her sweater.

She felt the mattress give, and the weight of his hand settled on her back through the quilt. She hadn't even heard the door open. "Hey. Talk to me."

She shook her head. "No."

Alan's free hand tugged at the blanket. "Are you okay?" He asked.

She laughed quietly. "Not even remotely."

"What happened?"

"I'm just done."

"Done what?"

A sigh. "Everything."

Alan ripped the blanket away, and his face fell when he saw hers. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Missy rolled over to face him, rubbing at the tender skin around her eyes. "Exactly what it sounds like. I'm just fed up. With everything." She pulled her knees up to her chest, pressed her face into the quilt. "I wish I'd never come here."

Alan rubbed her back. "Don't say that."

"Why not?" Missy rolled her head a little so she could see him on her right side. "It's the truth. I was better off in Seattle."

"You were miserable in Seattle." Alan argued.

"Yeah, and I'm miserable here." Missy said. "Miserable and alone. So nothing's changed."

"That's not true." Alan touched her hair. "You have me and Edgar."

"Edgar hates me." Hate was a strong word. And accurate. "He's always growling at me and making faces."

"No he's not." Alan insisted. "He's just worried about you. We both are." He petted her hair. "We just want to help."

"You can't. How could you possibly?" Missy said, brushing his hand off. "What do you know? You're fifteen."

"You're seventeen. So, what? You know everything now?" Alan grumbled back.

Missy lifted her head, glaring hotly at the elder Frog. "More than you. You and Edgar…" She cut herself off with a laugh that bordered on hysterical. "You're delusional. You wouldn't know a vampire if it bit you on the nose, much less what to do with one. You don't know anything. Sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, following me around like a little puppy. You don't even know enough to know when you're not wanted." Alan's face hardened, and his jaw clenched. "Go read your comics, fearless vampire hunter." Missy hissed. "And leave me alone."

"What's your problem?" Alan barked. "Why are you acting like this?"

"You're my problem." Missy ran her hands through her hair, tugging sharply. "Why can't you just do what I ask?"

"You want me to leave you alone?" Alan snarled.

"Yes." Missy snapped. "I do."

They held each other's narrowed eyes, until Alan turned away. "Fine." Was all he said. He went without another word, pulling the door closed behind him violently enough that the picture frame on Missy's bedside table fell over, the glass splintering down the middle with a devastating crack.

"Oh." She whimpered, sliding off the bed to kneel on the floor. She lifted her parents' photograph and ran her finger over the fissure between her mother and father's smiling faces. "What am I going to do?"

"Missy."

To her credit, she didn't scream this time. She wondered what that meant for what remained of her sanity, when seeing her dead mother didn't even faze her. "Hey, Mom." She sighed. "How're things?"

Marie, rather, her ghost, or the hallucination thereof, scowled. "Don't 'Hey, Mom' me." She said.

"Sorry." Missy apologized, scooting sideways on the bench to make room.

"What did I tell you?" Marie asked.

"About?" Missy tilted her head back, staring up at the glossy ceiling. The carousel was dark and empty. She could hear music far off, muffled and distorted, like she was underwater. Or dreaming. The polished bench felt like ice; her mother's glare however, was scorching. She shut her eyes. "Why are you doing this to me? What do you want?"

Missy felt the back of her mother's icy hand touch her cheek. "To help you, baby."

"You can't help me." Missy whispered. "This is a dream. You aren't real."

Marie laughed softly, and pinched her sharply. "I'm as real as you need me to be."

Missy's eyes shot open. "Ow." She rubbed her cheek. "I thought you couldn't get hurt in a dream?"

"Pain is in the mind." Marie replied. She took a seat, placing her hand on Missy's knee. "Tell me about the vampires."

Missy bit her lip, staring down at her mother's pale, grey hand, and pointedly not at her broken neck. "I don't know what to do." She whispered. "I'm scared, and I'm tired of being scared."

"What are you afraid of?" Marie asked.

"Well, David, for starters."

"You don't have to be afraid of dying, sweetheart." Marie's free hand brushed her cheek, and Missy slapped it away.

"Easy for you to say. You're already dead."

"True." Marie said. "But that's not the only thing bothering you, is it?"

Missy averted her eyes. She thought of the man in the crowd. She shook her head, moisture flying from her burning eyes. "I was cruel to Alan. He was just trying to help, and I said awful things to him. I don't know if he'll ever forgive me." She bit her lip, licking the moisture off. "I don't know if I want him to. I don't deserve it."

"He will."

"How do you know?" Missy asked. "I was a complete monster to him. And I snapped at Edgar." She didn't feel quite as bad about that part. "All I do is push them away from me."

Gently, Marie said, "You're protecting them."

"Yeah," Missy said, frowning. "but who's going to protect them from me?"

Marie laughed. "I think you're underestimating them, sweetie."

"What if I'm not?" Missy whispered. "David will kill them, Mom. I know he will, and there's nothing I can do to stop him. They're just kids."

Marie leaned in and brushed her daughter's hair away from her face. "Last I checked, you were still just a kid too, sweetie."

"That's not the point." Missy argued. "It's my responsibility to keep them safe. It's all my fault David even knows they exist in the first place."

Marie shot her a withering look. "I think the vampire would have picked up on the self-proclaimed teenage vampire hunters sooner or later."

"Aren't you supposed to be helping me?" Missy griped. "So help me. Offer me some grand wisdom from the other side. Please. Just-just tell me what to do."

"I tried to warn you." Marie touched her cheek gently with an icy hand. "I can't protect you. He's so close."

"Who?" Marie looked away, and Missy grabbed her arm. "Mom. Who?"

"It'll work out." Marie turned suddenly and cupped Missy's face in both hands. "In the end. Everything will be fine. I promise."

"That's a pie crust promise." Missy whimpered miserably, large, fat tears slipping down her cheeks and over her mother's cool hands.

"Just be careful, honey." Her mother's face flickered briefly into static, like a dying television set, and Missy's heart skipped.

"Help me. Tell me something. Anything! Please."

Marie's image flickered once, and went out like a candle, her soft voice drifting away on the wind like smoke. "It's almost over."

Missy came awake with a violent start, her breath catching in her throat. A heavy lump settled in her chest when she touched her face and her fingertips came away wet. She was losing her mind. The moisture on her hand was physical, irrefutable proof of that. She ran her fingers through her hair and tugged a little. She had to pull it together, or try. David wouldn't sit idly on the sidelines and wait for her to have her meltdown. She couldn't afford to come apart at the seams now.

She slid her body to the foot of her bed, bending to retrieve her comforter from the floorboards where she'd thrown it in her unrest. She regarded her one bare foot and wondered where her other flat had gotten to. She felt a little like Cinderella, hobbling around on one foot trying to find her missing slipper. Only Cinderella's feet probably weren't as sweaty. She wiggled her toes, mildly disgusted to feel the moisture beneath her soles. "Ugh." She felt rumpled, and gross. "That's what you get for sleeping in your clothes." She chastised herself, picking up her other shoe, which had somehow made it all the way over to her bookshelf, and slipped it on one-handed.

She cracked her door open and peeked out into the hall. The lights were still on. "How long did I sleep?" She didn't know for sure that Edgar and Alan were still up, but she didn't want to chance waking them either way. She crept out into the hall, reaching back for the doorknob. She pulled the door shut, wincing as it settled loudly in its frame. "So much for stealth mode." She slipped into the bathroom, closing that door a little less obnoxiously and tiptoeing (a little unnecessarily) over to the mirror. She didn't know whether to be relieved that she didn't look as gross as she felt. Her hair was ruffled, and her shirt was wrinkled, but she didn't look too worse for wear. She ran her fingers through her hair and splashed a little cool water on her face to wake herself up. "No more naps for you." She told her groggy, pale reflection. She turned her wrist and checked her watch. She'd only been asleep for about an hour. It felt like a whole day, but then, emotional weariness did take a lot out of her. Of course, now that she was awake, she had to decide what she was going to do about Alan. Her stomach, and the knot that had been forming ever since she was cross with him, said apologize, but then, she couldn't help thinking it was probably safer for him if he was angry with her. The further he stayed from her, the better. So she could scratch apologizing to Alan off her to-do list, but what then? It wasn't like she could go downstairs and face the both of them. She wasn't up to dealing with the looks, least of all from Alan. She supposed it was too much to hope that they'd let her pass without saying anything, and she wasn't one-hundred percent on going out anyway. She and Dwayne hadn't parted on the best terms, exactly, and with David still out trolling the boardwalk, she wasn't sure that she wasn't better off staying in.

Enough. It was time for her to put on her big girl panties. She couldn't avoid Alan forever just because they had a spat. She lived with him, for crying out loud. She could go downstairs and face him like a man. Woman. If she was lucky, he wouldn't even bring it up at all. The Frog brothers weren't a touchy-feely pair. Maybe she'd skate by just this once.

Right. When was she ever that lucky?

Alan's eyes were on her before she hit the last step, and the way he looked at her, she would have rather he just hit her, it hurt that much. Edgar didn't look at her at all. She wasn't sure that was any better. She looked away first, staring at her feet like a child until the customer he was helping forced Alan's attention away from her.

She took the opening.

The crowd swallowed her up, and she let her feet take her wherever they wanted, letting her mind go completely. Like a moth to the flame, her wandering feet drew her closer and closer to the carousel. The music was crisp, and deafening as she stepped onto the platform. She climbed up onto a gold and white painted horse with a wild, gilded mane, holding onto the waist belt with one hand like it was the reins, wrapping her other hand around the pole jutting through the its back. She shut her eyes, letting the music and the gentle rocking of the horse clear her head. Sometimes it was easier not to think, but she couldn't help it. She had too many questions. The one she couldn't seem to shake at the moment was where Eden was. Marko wouldn't have killed her. At least she didn't think he would, but he had been acting weird all night. Maybe he'd been feeling a little peckish and thought Eden would make a good snack. Or maybe she just looked at him funny. Then again, he was a vampire. He didn't need a reason to kill someone.

"You don't believe that."

Missy didn't bother opening her eyes. "Maybe I do."

Marko's hand wrapped around the pole, covering hers. "Maybe you should. But you don't." He was close enough that she could feel the decorations hanging off of his jacket through her sweater. She cracked her eyes open and inclined her head so she could see him out of the corner of her eye. He wasn't looking at her, he was watching the crowd as the carousel spun.

"Where's Eden?"

Marko didn't react in the slightest. Missy imagined he had a lot of practice at coaching his expression. He didn't bat an eye as he shrugged, "I dropped her back at her motel. Said she was going to crash."

Missy bit her lip. "I don't believe you."

Marko turned to look at her, his expression cool and unreadable. He must have been studying Dwayne. "How much do you know about her?"

Missy narrowed her eyes, leaning back to put some space between her face and Marko's. "Why?"

Marko cracked an impish smile, but his heart didn't seem like it was in it. "Call it curiosity."

"Curiosity killed the cat." Missy whispered, averting her eyes to watch her reflection in the glossy panels on the inside of the carousel. She wasn't disturbed by the absence of Marko's, but then, she was tired of being surprised by vampires.

"But satisfaction brought it back." He shifted closer, until she could feel his cool breath waft over the bandage on her neck.

"She's from Texas." Missy said after a quiet moment of thought. "She had a boyfriend named Steve who used to hit her. And she wants to be an actress."

"An actress, huh?" Marko tilted his head. "She say what she's doing in Santa Carla?"

"No." Missy let go off the pole and wrapped both of her arms around her middle. "What's with the third degree? Why are you so interested in Eden?"

Marko downright smirked at her. "Jealous?"

"Hardly." Missy shot back, flustered. "But you're fishing. Why?"

Marko shrugged again. "Like I said. Curiosity."

"I don't believe that." Missy said. "Why are you even here? Did you come here just to grill me about Eden?"

"No."

"That's it?" Missy frowned. "No? No explanation?"

"Not really." Marko half-smiled. "I wanted to see you."

That would have been sweet had it not come out of the mouth of a vampire. "I'm having an aggressively bad day here, Marko. I'm not really in the mood for cute."

Marko leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss against the side of her head. "You're okay."

Missy gave in a slumped back against his chest, whimpering. "No, I'm not."

Marko's chin dug into her scalp as he laughed at her. "You will be."

She snorted bitterly. "Pie crust promise." She let her chin drop down onto her collarbone, sighing. "I'm falling apart." And I think I might be losing my mind."I can't sleep." Not without her dead mother dropping in for a friendly chat night after night, which was, to say the least, not normal. "I'm seeing things."

"What kinds of things?"

"Does it matter?" Missy asked. "Crazy is crazy."

She could hear the shrug in Marko's voice. "There's lots of different kinds of crazy."

Missy shook her head, biting her lip hard enough to hurt. "Crazy is crazy. End of story."

The carousel spun them to a gradual stop, and Marko held out his hands to help her down from her horse. Against her better judgment, Missy let him. "I don't trust her."

Talk about whiplash. "Who?" Missy followed him down off the platform and into the crowd, puzzled.

"Your friend." Marko said without looking at her. "Eden."

Missy made a face. "That's funny."

"How so?" Marko cocked his head like a curious golden retriever.

"She said the same thing about you."

Marko didn't look as if he found the coincidence as amusing as she did. "Did she now?" He didn't seem to like the thought of Eden imparting any advice that involved him. Tetchy vampires. "Promise me something?"

"Tell me what first." Missy furrowed her brow. She didn't like this side of Marko. Not one bit. She liked it even less than the head kicking side.

"Don't let her get you alone."

Missy was thoroughly stunned. "Why not?"

"Just stay on the boardwalk." Marko grabbed her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Please?"

"Tell me why." And I will.

Marko smiled gently. "Just a feeling."

"Just a feeling?" Missy narrowed her eyes incredulously.

Marko released her and took a step back, grinning. "What? Don't humans ever get weird vibes?"

"Har har." Missy shoved him. "Eavesdropper."

Marko snagged her around the waist, tugging her back. "Force of habit."

Missy's good humor fled her like a bat out of hell, leaving her feeling empty and miserable. She stepped out of his arms, tucking her hair behind her ears and frowning. "I meant what I said."

Marko looked just as unhappy. "I know you did."

"I'm tired of feeling this way." She whispered brokenly. "I want to be safe."

"You're safer with us than you think."

"I wish I could believe that." Her hand came up unconsciously to touch the Band-Aid on her neck. "I don't want to be afraid of you."

Marko looked strangely uncomfortable, like there was something that he wanted to tell her, but something was holding him back. "I'm sorry." He said at last, and Missy sighed. Vampires and their secrets. "I am."

"I know." Missy leaned in and kissed his cheek. "I know." He reached for her hand, but she slipped away.

"Missy, wait." He caught her by the shoulder, turning her to face him again. "Just wait. Please."

"What is it?" Missy asked.

"Just promise me you won't go anywhere with her alone." Marko looked more serious than she'd ever seen him. "Please."

Missy opened her mouth to argue, to badger him until he broke and confessed whatever it was that he was hiding, but she didn't get the chance. Marko swept in and covered her mouth with his, gripping her face in his gloved hands. Please.

He let her go, and Missy sighed. "Okay." She didn't know why she said it, but she couldn't argue with the look on his face. She knew he was keeping something from her, but she figured spending time with Eden should have been the least of her concerns, anyway.

"Thank you." Marko took a step back, frowning. "I have to go."

"Okay." Missy bit her lip, feeling awkward, and not liking it one bit.

"Goodnight, Missy."

"Goodbye, Marko."

Missy didn't look up until she was certain that Marko had gone, and for a long while after, she just stared at the space that he had occupied, torn between being angry with him, and just being angry. Her life really wasn't like other peoples'. "I should've stayed in bed." She sighed, scrubbing the back of her hand over her eyes viciously.

"I thought he'd never leave."

Her stomach rolled violently, and she clutched at her mouth with both hands to keep from heaving. Her entire body went cold, like all the blood had rushed to her feet, or left her body completely. She couldn't look. She wanted to run, but she couldn't physically bring herself to move. She thought about calling for Marko, but she knew that he wouldn't come even if she had half a shot at getting the words out in the first place. Trembling, she commanded her feet to move. She turned and beheld the devil in his black coat.

David, smiling around a freshly lit cigarette, his skin smooth, and completely healed. "Hello, Missy. Did you miss me?"

Thank you for reading.

I'm a donkey's butt, I know. Feel free to leave me a review telling me how much you hate me for taking so long. I completely deserve it. But while you're there, go ahead and let me know what you thought of this chapter.