A Place To Hide

I sat at the table in the breakfast room, staring out at the clouds while eating the waffles I'd made for myself. Technically it was lunchtime, but I just couldn't push myself out of bed this morning. I was still so tired from last night's events, not to mention I hadn't been sleeping great. I took the last bite and leaned back in my chair, my hands folded contently in my lap.

The kitchen door swung open and by the sound of the footsteps on the tiled floor, I knew it was Ethan. A moment later he was sitting down at the table with me, one leg propped up on the other while he leaned back far in his chair. His overpowering masculinity was sometimes bothering.

"How did you sleep?" He asked, watching me intently as I blinked slowly at him.

I shrugged, "I'm not sure that I did." He looked confused, something that didn't happen often. "It's hard for me to tell the difference between sleeping and just lying there anymore."

"Tell me about it," he retorted, turning to look outside. "Are you going to be ready to go soon?"

"Yeah," I eyed him. "Where's Hanna?"

He shrugged this time, "I'm not sure. Why?"

"Isn't she going with me?"

Suddenly he was amused, a smirk gracing his lips as he realized I was misinformed. "It's just you and I today, darling."

I sighed heavily and let my limbs fall loose in the chair unenthusiastically. "Why?" I whined, leaning away from him a little as he stood up and reached his hand down, expecting me to take it.

"Because, this is a celebration for me," he explained. "Therefore, I will choose what you'll be wearing tomorrow evening."

I took his hand, his cool, smooth skin like porcelain against mine, knowing that there wasn't any way out of the shopping excursion. He looked down at my wrist, still covered by the brace, and I noticed a look of anguish flicker across his face. "There have to be restrictions."

"I make the rules," he drawled, clearly enjoying his control over me.

"We'll see about that," I replied, smiling to myself as I promised not to give up without a fight.

Ethan and I walked silently side by side down the sidewalk, glowing store windows passing by across from the street filled with cars. Peeking over at Ethan, I noticed he was staring straight ahead, his jaw pulled tight like he was stopping himself from saying something. I sighed and hugged my jacket closer, mentally rolling my eyes at Ethan's childish behavior.

Store after store, Ethan would drag me in and throw dozens of exquisite evening gowns into my arms. After trying them all on, I would tell him I didn't like any of them, and he would storm out of the shop. This had happened at least three times already, and judging by Ethan's current actions (ignoring me) I assumed he was tired of my antics.

Just as I looked back over at him, I realized he was no longer there. I panicked for a split second before I collided with someone in front of me. I knew it was Ethan since the body was so hard that I nearly broke my nose on impact.

"What the heck?" I asked, rubbing my nose, looking up at him angrily.

"We're going in here," he informed me firmly, standing next to the large glass door of another dress shop, "and you're getting a gown whether you like it or not."

"I thought you liked shopping," I teased, grinning up at him as he glowered back at me.

"Not when you make it this difficult," he grumbled, opening the door and motioning for me to enter.

I stepped in, looking around at the hundreds of gowns hanging around. Immediately, before I could even decide which direction to walk in, a woman with an elaborate updo was approaching me.

"Good evening," she smiled brightly. "Is there anything I can help you find?"

As I was about to tell her "No", Ethan piped in, "Actually yes," he smirked at her. "My girlfriend needs something special for tomorrow evening." I felt my eyes widen and I noticed how he moved just a fraction of an inch closer to me.

"Do you have any ideas in mind?" She asked, looking at me for a second before sweeping her gaze back to Ethan.

"Well," Ethan glanced to me, a gleam in his eye, before directing the woman away to tell her things I couldn't hear. I huffed and walked over to the fitting rooms where a Victorian style sofa with clawed feet sat. I fell down into it and awaited my fate.

Minutes later, Ethan returned with the saleswoman, who I noticed was holding only one gown in her arms. Ethan looked smug, but I ignored him and faced the woman, who was now handing me the gown.

"This is the one he chose," she told me with a smile, "I hope you like it."

"I don't think I have a choice," I mumbled, glancing at Ethan as I held the gown, covered by a zipped up bag, in my arms.

"You are free to choose any room you like," she motioned to the fitting room. "If you need anything else, don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you," Ethan nodded, dismissing her silently. She smiled and turned, disappearing between the racks of clothing.

"Girlfriend?" I hissed at him, answered by his annoying smirk as he pulled me up from the sofa.

"Don't flatter yourself," he breathed, his arm resting on my lower back. "I just needed an excuse to keep that woman from drooling over me."

I scoffed and jolted away from him, "How can one person be so impossibly egotistical?"

"Have you seen me?" He asked, looking at his reflection in the mirrors all around us. I stayed quiet, unable to admit how beautifully flawless he truly was. Instead I walked into a cubicle with the dress and pulled the curtain shut behind me.

I unzipped the bag and reached in, pulling out a handful of midnight blue material. The gown was long and flowing, and as I took it entirely out of its protective covering, it flowed to the floor and landed in a soft puddle. For the first time all night, I was genuinely pleasantly surprised by Ethan's choice.

I took off my jacket and sweater and tossed them onto the bench in the fitting room. After stepping out of my shoes, I pushed down my jeans and kicked them into the corner. I glanced nervously at the curtain, a part of me skeptical at its ability to keep Ethan and his prying eyes out. But I stepped into the gown and pulled it up over my chest without any interruptions. I reached back for the zipper and struggled to pull it up. It was impossible to maneuver the brace on my wrist into a position to grab the zipper. My arms felt awkward behind me and I sighed in frustration with myself.

I bit my lip, debating asking for help. After a few more moments I called for him quietly, "Ethan?"

In a millisecond he was pushing through the curtain into the room. "Need help?" He asked, looking over my exposed back.

"Please?" I sighed in a whisper, reluctant to resort to him for help.

With a nod he was moving behind me, his hands finding the zipper and dragging it up slowly. His cold hands brushed my skin briefly, sending light chills over my spine. I watched him in the mirror as his eyes roamed the gown, taking in the way it fit my body astonishingly perfectly. The ruched, crossed bodice hugged my chest tightly, and the sweetheart neckline enhanced every curve. The skirt of the gown was slim and flowing, making me look even taller than I truly was, though the slight curve of my hip was evident through the fabric.

"So?" I asked, running my hands over the thin material on my hips.

"This is it," Ethan said flatly, though without sounding bored. His hands, still near my back, drifted down my sides and waited at my waist. They grasped gently as he stared at me in the mirror, his eyes, though light, looked hungry.

I reached under my arm and flipped over the price tag, my eyes growing wide at the amount of numbers. "Jesus," I swore, turning to face Ethan and jutting the tag out toward him. "Ethan, this is way too expensive," I told him, waiting for his face to rise in surprise and for him to tell me that I couldn't have it.

However, he flicked his hand as if the four digit number hardly worried him. "The gown was practically made for you," he praised. "The color matches your eyes perfectly."

I flushed and stayed silent, though mentally I had to admit he was right. Somehow, impossibly, the gown looked astonishing on me, and therefore made me look astonishing in it. A bubble of excitement grew inside me upon the thought of being introduced to Ethan's friends while wearing the gown.

"I'll pay for this while you change," he told me, his eyes meeting mine for the first time since he entered the small room. "Unless you'd like me to stay…" His offer hung in the air, all the while his familiar sneaky smile grew as I watched him in the mirror.

"No," I shook my head, not quite yet ready to take the gown off. Ethan disappeared in a millisecond and I took a few more moments to look over myself while I listened to him making arrangements with the saleswoman.

How was it possible that at this period of time in my life, after all of the hardships I'd recently been through, that when I looked at myself in the mirror I actually liked what I was looking at? Shouldn't I have looked tired or worn out? Shouldn't I have given up on looks and vanity and embraced my life as a vampire's servant?

Yet somehow I'd skipped that step. I'd either skipped it or had made it through so fast I hadn't even noticed. One way or another I'd accepted my fate and moved on in one swift movement. I was learning to adapt to my new life, and not only survive, but thrive. I was legitimately enjoying myself (at times), save for the fact that for some unknown reason I was being stalked.

I began to change back into my jeans and jacket, which now in comparison seemed ugly and plain. Upon leaving the dressing room to see Ethan handing the saleswoman a credit card, I noted that he never looked ugly or plain, even though he himself had worn jeans and a plain black jacket. It was pointless to compare myself to Ethan; not because we were so different but because he would always be better than me. He was unfailingly perfect, stunning no matter what time of day. There wasn't a single feature he possessed that wasn't naturally flawless or complete. It was a miracle we weren't followed everywhere we went by women falling under the spell of his impossible beauty.

"I trust everything is in order then," he was saying, his brilliant white teeth showing as he smiled his approval at the woman who was nodding. "Great. Thank you for your help."

"Anytime," she said back to him, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear as she smiled, though Ethan was already turning away with the gown tucked safely in a garment bag on his arm.

"Ready to go home?" Ethan asked me, his light eyes looking strangely worn. I immediately nodded and followed him out of the shop and into the black vehicle we'd taken here. I slipped into the passenger's seat and waited patiently as Ethan started the car.

"Seatbelt," he ordered without looking at me. His hand rested on the gear shift yet remained in park.

"What about you," I asked, yanking the seatbelt across me and into the buckle, "seatbelt?"

He glanced over at me before turning back to the road and taking off. "I would do more damage than any semi-truck," he pointed out. I slumped in my seat and gazed out the window, watching as bare trees whizzed by. Snowflakes had started to fall sparsely and slowly. As they ricocheted off of the windshield I looked to Ethan, who was staring blankly ahead.

"Isaac told me," I informed him, "about you and Vivienne."

The muscles of his jaw tightened momentarily, "Did he?"

"He told me you were engaged."

Ethan took a deep breath and sighed, "Yes. We were to be married."

"What happened?"

He shook his head, "Nothing."

"Ethan, don't-"

"You don't understand," he clarified immediately, as though he already anticipated my protest. "There was no definitive event that brought about the end of our relationship. We grew apart long before we made the decision to call off the wedding."

I pictured Ethan and Vivienne together, for some reason at the altar. Their beautiful faces smiled at each other and their hands clasped between them. They were a perfect couple, in every sense of the word.

"Why are you concerned?" Ethan voiced, his question breaking me from my imagination.

"I'm not," I paused, "concerned. I was just curious to hear what you had to say."

He nodded calmly, "I'm sorry to disappoint, but there isn't much to say. It was a very long time ago."

I could tell he was done talking about it and decided to quit while I was ahead. His explanation was more than I expected in the first place.

"And what about yourself?" He asked politely, his voice light and casual to hide the hint of curiosity I detected in his tone.

"Well I've never been engaged," I looked over to him, surprised to see him staring back at me. "I've had boyfriends, none of them noteworthy."

"And what about the night we met? You looked as though you were dressed for a date."

I shook my head solemnly, not willing to remember the night and its terrifying details. It wasn't even Ethan that horrified me in the memory, but it was the blonde woman he'd bitten. The memory was forever synonymous with the recurring nightmare, and even now it was hard to decipher dream from reality.

But Ethan pressed on, "What were you doing that night?"

"I was just out with some friends," I told him vaguely, wishing to direct the conversation away from the subject. It wasn't what I'd been doing with my friends that I didn't want to remember, but the events afterward. I wanted to avoid the subject of the blonde woman completely.

It was quiet in the car for a few moments. I didn't look at Ethan again, though I could feel his electric gaze burning over me. "Do you think they wonder what happened to you, your friends?" He asked tentatively like he was afraid I'd have an outburst.

I shrugged, "Not really. I wasn't very close with anyone. They probably think I moved away or something." I chuckled dryly at the irony, "I guess I did."

"So does that make us best friends?" He asked with a small grin. The childish term sounded strange coming from someone so mature, so sophisticated.

"Not a chance," I teased. "Mary, Hanna, and Jacques all come before you. Besides, I don't want to be second best to Isaac anyway."

"Yes," he scoffed. "Isaac, who seems to have no problem telling anyone who will listen my personal matters."

"Isaac has done nothing wrong," I immediately scolded. "Vivienne is his sister, so it's his business too."

Ethan eyed me for a moment before nodding, "I suppose you're right." He stared ahead as a pair of headlights washed over us, his eyes glittering as the light passed over him. "I'd forgotten you were his number one fan."

"Oh stop," I shushed him, leaning my head in my hand on the arm rest. "He's just a friend."

"Fraternizing with the enemy?" He teased my initial distaste for the vampire race.

"I only have two enemies," I informed him. "You, and who or what ever chased me through the forest."

Surprisingly, Ethan didn't react. I expected him to make some sort of comment about being one of my enemies or being placed in the same category as the blonde woman, but he stayed silent and continued staring ahead.

"Ethan?"

"Yes?"

"Who was following me?"

He stayed perfectly still, so unmoving it was almost like he was frozen. I turned toward him slightly with my back against the door so he knew I wasn't going to give up on my question.

"I don't know," he told me, and instantly I knew he was lying.

"I saw the way you looked in the forest that day. You recognized whoever it was," I pressed, my voice growing a little louder.

"I can't say for certain," he muttered, his monotone voice dark.

"Ethan," I said loudly, and the intensity with which I said his name must have gotten his attention because he finally turned to look at me. "Tell me what you know. If this person is after me, then I have the right to know."

"Person?" He lifted his eyebrow in suspicion, clearly disregarding my attempts at a debate. "What makes you think it was human?"

"I know it was a vampire," I admitted. When he gave me a look of curiosity mixed with what seemed to be anger, I answered. "Isaac."

"Of course," he rolled his eyes. "Is there anything he hasn't told you?"

"He hasn't told me why you insist on keeping secrets," I retorted, watching him with satisfaction as his lip picked up in a silent, but accepting, snarl.

After a minute of mental debate, Ethan sighed. "It was a female." A flashback of my dream came slicing through my vision inside the car.

"Do you know her?"

He shook his head. "No. She looked familiar but she was moving so quickly it was hard to get a good look at her."

I shivered and my heart skipped a beat. "What color was her hair?"

Ethan glanced at me, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the strange question. "What? Why?"

"Was she blonde?" I asked insistently, watching his face for any movement I could pick up on.

"Yes."

Immediately I felt a cold wave wash over me. It felt as though my body was being drained of everything, and I associated the odd feeling with fear. The fear that someone was truly out to get me. The fear that my nightmare would soon be reality.

"Audra?" Ethan asked, but his voice was a mile away. I stared out at the window, barely blinking as the snowflakes whizzed by the window like a blizzard. The night was impossibly black and even with the bright headlights of the brand new sports car on it was hard to see what was twenty feet ahead of us. I no longer cared if Ethan could hear my heart racing or if he could even read my mind. I wasn't worried about what was in the car with me; if anything, I knew that being as close as possible to the person I was with now would be my best bet for survival.

But thinking about what was out there, what could possibly be lurking in the shadows around me at this very moment, was what made my skin crawl. There was so much space, impossible amounts of space, for her to be hiding in it was sickening.

With a gulp and slight panic, I realized I would have to follow Ethan everywhere, no matter how annoyed or frustrated I got. If I was with Ethan, she couldn't touch me.

Assuming, of course, Ethan would protect me…