Chapter 11

Katelina half lay on the bathroom floor, staring at the bathtub. Though she couldn't see inside it, she knew what was in it - who was in it.

Jorick.

He'd looked dead, and then he'd opened his eyes and-

He suddenly drew in a noisy, shuddering gasp, like he'd been drowning and had only just escaped. Then, slowly, he sat up and turned to face her. He stared at her, a lack of comprehension on his face. They gazed at one another, their eyes locked, his confused and hers wide with fear.

The silence stretched. His dark eyes pulled her in until she was drowning; she couldn't move, couldn't speak. Time ceased to exist as the silky depths captured her attention, warm and whispering about things that her primitive subconscious seemed to understand. She started to feel lightheaded but, before she could actually humiliate herself, he broke the spell by murmuring, "Hello."

She fought to regain control of her faculties and banished the strange feeling to the back of her mind where it belonged.

"Hello?" she repeated sarcastically, glaring at him. "You scare me half to death and all you can say is hello? I thought you were dead!" As she stood she scooped up her ruined sweater and pressed it to her chest like a shield.

As if just realizing she wasn't fully dressed, he looked away politely, the hint of a smile on his lips. "No, I'm not dead." He glanced back to her he added, "I just feel like I should be."

"Yes. You-" but she stopped herself from telling him how truly dead he'd looked; he'd only argue. Besides, there were more important questions, and she started with the most obvious. "Why are you sleeping in the bathtub?"

"Oh, probably sleep walking." He shrugged casually. "It happens quite often."

She stared at him incredulously. "You sleep walked into the bathroom, climbed into the bathtub and laid down?" In order for them to be having this conversation one of them had to be crazy and it wasn't her.

"I don't know, I was asleep." He hoisted himself to his feet and tugged his shirt smooth. He rolled his neck, stretched his back and arms and then moved to stand close to her, a look of amusement on his face.

Her reply disappeared as she stared into his face and her skin flushed at his nearness. She couldn't help but notice he was just as attractive alive as he'd been dead, maybe more so.

"It doesn't matter, does it?" His eyes, so dark they almost seemed black, stared into hers, suffocating her with their gaze.

"Uh... No... I guess not," she stuttered. Once again the world tilted dangerously, threatening to spin away from her.

"You're probably hungry." He tore his gaze from hers and checked himself in the mirror.

It took all of her conscious effort to not follow his eyes into the shiny silver surface. She forced herself to look into the empty bathtub instead and tried to gather her scattered thoughts. "Yeah, I'm starving," she murmured and realized it was true.

Jorick nodded. "Take your shower, and when you're done we'll see about finding some food." He glanced at her once more. Her face burned as she imagined that he could see through not only the sweater she clutched against her chest but all of her clothing. The fact that it didn't give her the creeps made her feel even worse.

"Okay," she half whispered, looking at the floor and not daring to meet his eyes.

He slid smoothly past her; his body too close for an instant, and then left, leaving her flushed and shaken.

She exhaled and leaned back against the cool wall, her body feverish. A few moments ago she'd been terrified because she'd thought him dead and now she was nervous because he was alive!

Katelina took a fast shower, blushing furiously the whole time. She wondered if Jorick was sitting in the motel room, imagining her naked, or if he was indifferently flipping channels on the television and wishing she'd hurry up.

Dressed and washed, she walked into the room to find Jorick sprawled across the rumpled bed, the television remote in his hand and his eyes trained on the glowing screen. At least she had the answer to her question, though somehow it disappointed her a little.

"All done?" he asked casually and clicked the television off.

"Yeah, I'm as clean as I'm going to get." She tried to smooth her wet, tangled hair. She couldn't help but wonder what he'd done to make his hair look so good, since neither of them had a hairbrush, but it seemed too personal a question to ask.

He swung himself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. "Before we go, let me look at your shoulder."

She moved to stand in front of him, her mouth dry again. She berated herself. This had to stop - she wasn't a schoolgirl! She was an adult woman in full control of her faculties, facing a man who quite possibly was not in control of his - no matter what he looked like.

His hand caught her neck and pulled her forward, so that she bent into him. His fingers were cool, but not uncomfortable as he brushed her ruined sweater back from her shoulder and gazed at the bite. "Hmmmmm... It seems to be healing as well as expected. I think a bandage wouldn't hurt."

She nodded and waited for him to release his hold on her neck, telling herself that he hadn't just been trying to get a free look at her cleavage.

As if reading her mind, he let go. His eyes dropped away from hers quickly and his head followed so that he stared at the floor. She'd sworn that for just a second she'd seen guilt in his eyes.

Katelina straightened up. She no longer had an excuse to be close to him. A faint feeling of regret shimmered through her but she mentally brushed it away.

"We should go get some food," Jorick said suddenly. He stood without looking up, and Katelina had to shuffle backwards quickly.

Wordlessly, he headed to the door and unlocked the requisite row of chains and bolts. He opened it wide then plunged through into the gathering darkness.

Quietly, she followed him out the door and wondered how they were going to get home when neither of them had a car, but she decided to wait until she'd eaten to worry about it.

Night had fallen since she'd woken up, and the garish outdoor lights gave the world a surreal quality. Her wet hair was ruffled by a cool breeze that was heavy with the smell of dead leaves, dying grass, and car exhaust. In the grip of darkness, the world was once more opened to the possibilities of monsters, despite the closeness of civilization, and she could no longer discern fact from fiction in her mind. Had she been attacked by vampires and saved by the man walking only a few feet in front of her? Were any of her memories real, or were they all fantasy?

Staring at Jorick's broad shouldered back, she wondered if she wanted to find out what was real and what wasn't. After all, what if she didn't like what she discovered?