“No,” Sam answered. “I haven’t talked to her in a while. This was all, like, spur of the moment. I just thought, like, it would be cool to meet.”
The man nodded. He seemed to relax a bit.
“Well good, yeah,” the man said. He reached into his pocket and took a crumpled packet of cigarettes and lit one. He dragged on it, filling the small room with smoke. “So, like, what are you guys into?”
Sam and Samantha exchanged a glance, not sure what he meant.
“Um, like…what do you mean?” Sam asked.
Samantha turned back to the laptop, and zoomed in again on the Facebook page. Something about it was bothering her. She looked closely, at the entire screen, and could see that there were several tabs open up at once. All on Facebook. And all under different user names.
His Dad must have seen her looking, because at that moment, he suddenly walked over and shut his laptop. He turned back to them.
“I mean,” he said, “you guys, like…are you having sex with each other?” he asked.
Samantha saw him suddenly reach over and grab something off the table.
She looked over and saw the confusion on Sam’s face, and then saw the anger starting to cloud over it.
At that moment, she realized. This was not his Dad at all. It was an imposter. An internet predator. A pedophile. Luring people in on Facebook. Fishing for different kids. Waiting for someone to come along like Sam, someone desperate, just eager enough to be willing to believe this might be his Dad.
The man was quick. Before Samantha could react, he had grabbed a large kitchen knife, darted across the room, and grabbed Sam in a chokehold from behind. He held the huge knife tightly against Sam’s throat, pushing into it hard enough to almost draw blood.
Sam’s eyes watered over in shock and pain.
“Make a move, and he’s dead,” the man said to Samantha, in a fierce voice.
This was an interesting situation for Samantha. Given that this man was not Sam’s father, she had no more business here, and was just wasting her time. She could just walk out and let Sam die. It wouldn’t make a difference. This was the only lead he’d had, and now Sam was useless to her.
But there was something that made her hesitate. A spark of something she was starting to feel for the kid. She couldn’t believe it, but a part of her was actually starting to care about him. And if there was anything she hated more than humans, it was human creeps like this guy. No, she couldn’t just walk out.
“Get down on your knees and take off your shirt,” the man ordered Samantha in a dark, steely voice, as he held the knife to Sam’s throat.
Sam tried to squirm, but the man held even more tightly, starting to draw a bit of blood.
Samantha could kill the man at any time. But the problem was, he held the knife so tightly, she didn’t want to see him kill Sam. She couldn’t make any rash moves.
Samantha dropped to her knees, raised her hands, and slowly removed her shirt, revealing her bra.
She looked up and saw the creep’s eyes light up, his disgusting grin, ear to ear. He reached out and pointed his knife at her.
“Your bra,” he ordered.
Sam must have seen his chance, because at that moment, he moved with admirable speed for a human. He reached up and grabbed the creep’s wrist, struggling with all he had.
But the creep was strong. Years of preying on kids had probably built a wiry strength into his frame, had probably prepared him for things like this. As Sam struggled, the creep broke free and sliced Sam’s cheek, drawing blood.
Sam screamed out in pain, raising his hands to his cheek. Blood was everywhere.
The creep then pulled the knife back and Samantha could see that he was preparing to plunge it into Sam’s chest.
Samantha broke into action. She suddenly leapt across the room, catching the knife in midair and yanking the creep’s arm back with enough force to tear it from its socket.
The creep screeched and dropped the knife.
Samantha, not done, reached over, and with her superhuman strength, grabbed his neck and twisted it in one swift motion, breaking it and killing him.
The man slumped, lifeless, to the floor.
Samantha, still coursing with rage, looked over and saw that Sam stood there, eyes wide open, in shock, staring at her. He was so surprised, he looked oblivious to the pain he was in. She was sure he had never witnessed anything like that in his life. And probably never would again.
He had tried, he had really tried, to save her. Even with the knife on his throat. No one had made a gesture for her like that in centuries.
Maybe she would keep him alive, after all.
TWENTY FOUR
When Caitlin and Caleb woke, it was night. They lay on the beach together, on the sand, on the warm night, and under the light of an enormous full moon.
They still had the beach to themselves, and the sound of the crashing waves was all around them. They both lay there, awake, undressed, in each other’s arms, using their coats as a makeshift blanket. Rose lay beside them.
They were both changed people.
They stared into each other’s eyes. They rolled over and kissed each other again, slowly.
Their relationship had changed forever. She had changed forever. And nothing made her happier.
They were no longer two random people, friends, kept together by the same mission. They were now lovers. A couple. Together.
Caitlin only hoped that it would last forever.
There were so many questions she was burning to ask. Like, what now? He had crossed a line, forbidden for his race. What if they found him? Would they kill him? Had he risked it all for her? Was she really worth it?
And now that he had, would he leave her? Was there any way for them to stay together, to make it last?
What could their future possibly look like?
She was overcome with emotion, overcome by knowing what he had sacrificed for her.
“I’m afraid,” she finally said, softly.
“Of what?” he asked.
“Of us,” she said. “Of dying. You will live forever. But I…” She struggled to think how to phrase it. “…I won’t,” she said. “I want to be with you. I want to be like you. I want to be immortal,” she said.
His expression turned somber. He slowly reached over, dressed himself, and stood.
He stared off at the ocean.
She dressed, too, grateful for the warmth of her coat and patting it to make sure her journal and the scroll were still safe inside. She stood beside him.