Bo stopped in front of the open door. At first glance, it appeared to be a fairly dark and sterile entrance to a tiny bedroom. Only that was just as deceptive as the way the architecture concealed the smal hal way.
Once Bo and I stepped four or five feet into the gloomy interior, the room spread out before us in a suite that was easily discernible as the master quarters. Though I’d never been inside Sebastian’s room, I didn’t think it was possible that his space could be as large and grandiose as this one, not with it being situated between this room and Lil y’s.
The ceilings were high, as they were in the rest of the house, and the floors were covered in rich wood planks polished to a gleaming shine. Centered atop an enormous, plush Oriental rug was an oversized bed with two ornately-carved posts at each of its four corners. A deep red velvet duvet covered the thick mattress and dozens of decorative pil ows were piled at its head. There were no windows in the room, a fact that I found very peculiar, yet there were matching velvet curtains hanging on the wal as if they were framing two openings. Only they weren’t.
Although the room was richly appointed, by most standards I think it would’ve been described as creepy. For some reason, though, it didn’t bother me. In fact, as I walked around the large space, trailing my fingertips along the top of the dresser and tracing the carved footboard of the bed, I felt oddly comforted. It made no sense and I would’ve felt sil y trying to explain it to someone, but it was true nonetheless.
“Hel-lo? Ridley?”
Bo’s voice penetrated my otherwise-engaged mind and I jerked around. He was stil standing at the door and, by the look on his face, he’d been speaking to me for some time and getting no response.
“What did you say? I’m sorry.”
“I was asking you about who al lived here. Whose room was this?”
“Oh, um, I don’t know. Sebastian’s was beside Lil y’s. I didn’t even know that this room was down here.”
“And it was just the two of them?”
“Uh, yeah,” I answered, but then caught myself. “I mean, no. There was a housekeeper, but I’m sure she didn’t have a room this nice. This looks like the master, doesn’t it?”
“Why wouldn’t Sebastian stay in this room then?”
“I don’t know,” I said distractedly, now wondering the same thing.
“Come on. Let’s get—”
“I think I’l keep my stuff in this room,” I announced.
Bo frowned, but didn’t argue.
“Alright. I’l take…one of the others.”
“I’ve always wondered,” I began, crossing the room to take my bag from Bo’s shoulder, “where you’ve been keeping your clothes.”
“I final y got some of my stuff from Mo—from my old place.
Lucius let me keep a few things at his cabin.”
I sat my bag on the bed and went back to wrap my arms around Bo’s neck, feeling a burst of empathy for how displaced he must feel.
“Wel , since Sebastian won’t be needing this place anymore, you can take it over.”
Bo’s lips stretched into a thin smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“We’l see,” he said, placing a quick kiss on my lips and taking my hand. “Come on. Let’s go do something fun.”
“I don’t want to rain on your parade, but it’s been kind of the day from hel . Would you mind if we just stayed here and relaxed for a while?”
Bo tilted his head as he considered me, a lopsided grin bringing out the dimple in his left cheek.
“Of course not,” he said, raising my hand to his lips.
“Anything for you. You know that.”
With that, Bo led me from the back bedroom. For our period of relaxation, we settled on watching a comedy on Sebastian’s huge television. We sat on the couch—Bo’s arm draped around my shoulder, my head on his chest—just like any other teenage couple in the world might. Only we were anything but normal. We were vampires and we had a job to do. Somehow, in the coming days, we had to find a way to kil an angel. And that was no simple task.
Despite our terrible circumstance, we were able to laugh at the outrageous comedy in the movie. It felt good to share something so mundane, something so normal with Bo. Most of the time it felt as though our relationship had seen nothing but struggle and strife, and it appeared that the immediate future would be no different. It was during that peaceful time that I decided we had better take our fun, take our “normal”
wherever we could get it.
When the credits of the second movie rol ed up over the screen, I saw that the sky was lightening to a bright royal blue in preparation for the appearance of the sun.
“What time does your mom leave for work?”
“Usual y about 7:30. Why?”
“Wel , I’m thinking maybe we ought to go get your car and you can cal her in a while and tel her about housesitting.”
“Okay.”
“On the way, we can swing by and see Lucius, pick up my stuff.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Alright, let’s go.” With that, Bo got up, pul ed me to my feet and we took off like two blurs through the pre-dawn streets of Harker.
We made our trip to the forest a game. This time, however, rather than a contest to see who was fastest, Bo showed me a little more about my new body through tests of strength and agility.
As we made our way through town, Bo took me jumping from rooftop to rooftop, leaping over cars and vans, darting past a group of drunks outside a club and, final y, barreling through trees in the forest.
When we were almost half way to Lucius’s cabin, Bo slowed down.
“There’s something else I want to show you, something about your strength,” he said, coming to a stop about a foot from me. “Hit me.”
“What? I wil not.”
“Seriously. Hit me.”
“Why? What if I—”
“Don’t think, Ridley. Just hit me.”
I bal ed up my fist and punched at Bo’s arm. He didn’t even flinch, didn’t budge.
“See how that feels?”
I shrugged. “It feels just like it always has, not that I’ve punched many people.”
“That’s because your strength is the one thing you have to be purposeful about. Jumping high, running fast, hearing better, seeing better—those al come a little more effortlessly, but with strength, you have to focus.”