Chapter Six~

"How long have you been living here?" Danica asked, her long golden locks falling over her shoulder and blending into her white tank top as I turned a sharp right on a street corner a few hours after leaving the Acevedo house. My hands were stretched out over the steering wheel and my fingers clutching to the thick binding hard.

"A while..." I began but stopped short of details there. "You?" I wanted to get away from the subject.

"Zachary and I only just arrived a few days ago. Before that we were living in Main."

"You and he are?" The thought of what I was sure her answer would be made me weary, but I was desperate to know just the same.

"What?" she questioned lightly, her eyebrows raised and for a second I believed that she had no idea what I was talking about.

"You're involved," I hesitated, "aren't you?" The look on her face changed within the blink of my eye. Her once calm expression was furrowed into twisted shock and anger.

Her lips clenched tightly together as she said: "How could you think that Zane?" She turned away from me, disgusted, and I watched as she turned to face the window completely until her emotion filled face was hidden from me.

I didn't understand her reaction; it had been painfully obvious to me that something either had or still was going on between them. "You made no pains to hide anything between the two of you." The image of her hand on Zachary's face slapped into my mind like a hard shock, and I had to take a deep breath to release it from me.

"How dare you judge me!"

I was left silent, my words had betrayed me, and I had boxed myself into a corner that I could see no escape from. I wanted to reach out to her; I wanted to know. She was such a mystery to me now. She was filled with memories and happy moments as well as sad ones that I had no idea of. Once, long ago, I knew her better then I knew myself, but now she was as mystifying as a stranger that I was unexplainably drawn to. "I'm sorry..." I began, but hade no idea what to say after that. My mind was full of speeches profiling my undying love and devotion to her, but I had no idea how to say them, or if I was even right to say them anymore.

"It's not what you think."

"Your relationship?"

"He's like a son to me. Anything more is just your jealousy working over time."

"Jealousy?"

"You can't handle the thought that you are no longer my only companion."

She reminded me of a schoolgirl pouting because she couldn't have her way; surely we could have a conversation and not act like three-year-olds. In the moments of silence that followed, I pondered what she had said. I was jealous, more jealous then I had ever been in my life. Just thinking of another man touching her or being with her made my blood boil and my skin crawl. "I'm sorry," my apology ingenuous, and I knew that she sensed that. "You're right; it's not my place to judge you, or is it my place anymore to think that I could judge you. It's just that..."

"What?" she asked, but I said nothing more. The admission that my feelings were the same when it was clear that hers were not was too hard for me to speak out loud. I turned to face the road head on. We had hours to kill, and I was unsure of what our conversation would turn to if I wasn't driving. At least this way I had a reason to stay on my side of the vehicle. I drove the Seattle streets in circles- she had no idea how to get around the city, so I don't think she noticed. I went from street to street, from University Place to Elliot and down to the waterfront. We said nothing after that, and I wondered if it was because she was waiting for me to finish what I had been saying before. I had no idea; her mind was a closed box to me.

"I'm sorry," she finally spoke, breaking the silence, though I couldn't imagine what she had to be sorry for. "I should not have spoken to you like that; you are going out of your way to help me." She took a breath, "But if you really knew Zachary, then you would know that what your suggesting is preposterous if nothing else."

My voice was meek, "That's not what I saw."

She said nothing to counter or correct me, and I knew that she knew my suspicions were correct.

Our conversation ended again, and several long minutes past before I asked: "Where is Rei?"

She was caught off guard by my question, and I could only guess that his fate, like so many others that had been our friends, was bleak at best. "He was killed in the invasion." I didn't press; the past was painful for us all, and I took a moment of silence in my mind for the good solider and friend. I remembered his many heroic deeds and hung my head in shame that I had not been there to fight beside him in the end.

By 4:30, the sun was beginning to set, and I turned the car into the parking garage at Sea-Tac. I was unsure of this, if Danica was being hunted by these Vampire assassins, I would have preferred leaving our travels to the day time and not skulking around dark parking garages at sunset and boarding planes at night. I parked the red corvette in what I presumed would be a safe place, in-between a wall and a post; I couldn't even guess at the next time that I might see it. No doubt that Simon and Diane would search the city when they realized I was missing, and they'd probably find the car here eventually. I thought about leaving a note for them inside.

Danica, recognizing the chill of the oncoming night, pulled on a thin jacket made of Swede that I doubted would keep her fully warm in the nighttime Seattle cold and wherever else it was that we were headed. "Common," I pressed gently, "we're going to be late."

We both got out of the car sheepishly, neither really knowing what the coming days would bring us. Before locking the car, I went to the trunk where I knew my duffle bag was, and I presumed her things were there as well. My father's sword was laid out neatly on top of everything, and I relaxed slightly when I ran my fingers along its powerful surface. "How exactly do you plan on taking that on an airplane?" she asked, looking over my shoulder. I didn't answer her, but her question was festering in my mind. How would I get this sword and all of the weapons onto the plane? I knew that there were firm rules now a days as to what was appropriate and what was not in terms of luggage, and I guessed the knives and swords were not on that list. I bit my lip in agitation, having no solution to the problem that had come to me.

She grabbed hold of my arm tightly, dragging me away from my task at hand. "Zane, look!" she said, and I followed the line of her vision to the other side of the dark parking lot where in the glow of the florescent light we both saw the outline of a small boy. He was huddled against the concrete barrier and from where we stood we could hear light sobs and murmurings. Without looking back at me, Danica ran to him, and I, leaving the car unattended, ran after her quickly. Something about this wasn't right.

"Are you all right?" she asked, kneeling down to the boy who, from sight, looked no older then twelve. She placed her hand gently on his arm, as if to rouse him from his weeping, and I watched helplessly as the child raised its head, revealing a set of sharp extended fangs that looked ready for the killing. I grabbed the top of Danica's coat and forcefully had to pull her to her feet to get her away from the boy who, by then, was only inches away from her neck. Once she was standing, she curled against me, wrapping her arms about my back for support. I could tell that she was more betrayed by the child's action then by his attempt on her life.

My eyes narrowed as I searched out what was seeable to me in the dark parking lot, and I counted at least twelve or more adult vampires coming at us from each side, and the little boy, small though he was, but just as dangerous, was at our feet...