Chapter 6: How Many More Times

It occurred to me as I left Jane's that even a locked drawer would no longer make a difference; it wouldn't stop Lestat if he wanted in. A locked door sure as hell hadn't done anything. At least the venting session had left me feeling a little lighter. So there was no getting rid of him; I was just going to have to hope that he would lose interest, among other things. I shouldn't have been taking this all so seriously anyways, I mean, he showed up at random for a few hours at a time. I'd never seen him two days in a row, though I was beginning to notice a pattern. Somewhere along the lines of "peace" for three to five weeks, then one chaotic rendezvous, over and over again. Not that I was keeping track, or ever would for that matter. One thing I did know; Ben was never going to hear a word of this…

Once again I settled back in to my old routine. My coffee table remained my office, not only because I wasn't going to let Lestat see (should he ever show up again) that he had made me alter the way I did things but because I figured this was the first step to getting over my self-consciousness. I did want to try publishing one of my short stories, but the fear of rejection was too much. It's one thing to have a band send you angry messages because they didn't like your review; here I'd be putting myself under scrutiny. I was the one who did the scrutinizing, I wasn't sure I could handle taking what I sometimes had to give.

The three-week marker had passed. I was getting nervous again, and this time it was getting bad. I'd wake up in the middle of the night with a cold sweat thinking he was lurking in the corner waiting to sink his teeth into my neck as soon as I closed my eyes again. But another week passed, and another. A tiny hope began to flicker in the back of my mind that I was in the clear. Before I knew it six weeks had passed with no Lestat in sight – the tiny hope was growing. Still, the longer he stayed away the clearer his face became in my memory. Distance makes the heart grow fonder; whoever said that had obviously never met a vampire. Either way, I really wanted to give him (I'm sure it was a him) a swift kick in the pants. I didn't miss him; honestly, what was there to miss? I began to have these random momentary urges to start banging my head against the wall…"get out, get out, get out". Was this some new form of torture for him? If he was still out there, I was damn sure he was enjoying this – the bastard.

Now seven weeks had passed. I wasn't thinking about him. Period. Of course things had changed; I don't think I'd ever be able to look at people the same way again, but I never had been the kind of person who hands out their trust easily. I was working on another story, for me, not the magazine on my laptop. It was Wednesday evening, everyone I knew was busy with something, so it was the perfect time to relax in the solitude of my den and put some words on paper. My buzzer rang, indicating that someone was calling me from downstairs. I walked to the call box wondering who could possibly be looking for me now. Most everyone was either out of town or swamped with work. I was hoping it was Jane coming to suggest a means of procrastination for us both; namely coffee and conversation.

I hit the call button hard and half-shouted "hello?" into the speaker. This thing was a little old; it needed a certain touch to work.

"Miss me?"

My whole body froze. No, no, no…it had been too long, he'd forgotten about me!

"I see you're speechless, so I'll do the talking. We're going to dinner. Now. Go get ready, I'll be waiting."

It took a second for all that to sink in. Dinner? With him? Was he kidding? My mouth finally breached it's temporary paralysis, "Lestat, I'm sort of in the middle of something, you can't just drop in on people like this…"

"That something wouldn't be a person, would it?"

"No…and what difference would that make. I don't have time tonight."

"I'm giving you five minutes and then I'm coming up."

"Lestat, this isn't a game, I've got work to finish."

"Finish it later, we're going to dinner. You're down to four minutes."

Was this really happening? Who the hell does he think he is?

"I'm not accepting arguments, Evie, and I don't think you want me to come up there."

"Lestat…"

"Three minutes."

"ARRGH, FINE!" I hit the end button as hard as I could and punched the wall with my other hand. I could see that revolting smirk starting to form on his face all the way up here. Damn him. Well, I certainly wasn't going to make this easy for him. I pulled my hair into a loose ponytail and put on the grubbiest outfit I could find. I figured the jeans and extra-large t-shirt from the show the night before would do. They both reeked of smoke and alcohol. I pulled one of my giant hooded sweatshirts over all that; I was showing the least amount of skin possible. I grabbed my bag and headed down to the stairway. This was not going to be fun.

As soon as I stepped out the door Lestat started to laugh. I wasn't starting any conversation so I just glared.

"I don't think I've ever met anyone so bent on avoiding me!"

The thought flashed through my mind before I could stop it, "Obviously you haven't met a lot of people."

"Oh, now that's just hurtful Evie," he mock-frowned. "Long day?" He looked me up and down as usual.

"Of course." My frown was most definitely real.

"Well, I was thinking we would go somewhere nice, but I suppose we could try the more bohemian side of town instead."

If he thought he could shame me into changing he was sorely mistaken. "Fine," I said, starting in that direction, "let's get this over with."