Without a Sound

“Charlotte.”

It was the voice I knew best that was calling me. I turned onto my side, mumbling, “Mikey.” With my eyes still closed, I reached out, searching through the air for him.

“I’m right here,” he said quietly, sounding amused. He touched my hand with his. “We’re going to leave on about an hour. It’ll be getting dark soon.”

I let my hand fall, and he caught it. “Mmhmm. I’ll get up soon.” I said the words almost without moving my lips.

He laughed. “I’m not leaving here until you open your eyes. If I do, you’re going to fall right back asleep,” he said smugly.

I groaned. With my free hand – the one he wasn’t still holding – I rubbed my eyes. Then, finally, I forced them open. “Ugh. Happy?” I asked as I fumbled with the blankets to get out from under them. I stumbled out of the bed. I would’ve fallen if he wasn’t holding onto me. My feet felt better, at least.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” he asked skeptically. I saw him eyeing my thin arms and legs. Even if my skin wasn’t paper thin anymore, I really didn’t have much in the muscle department. I was still a stick.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, gathering some of my clothes in my arms.

He frowned, not seeming to agree. Hoping to make him forget about that, I tugged my hand free of his and announced, “I’m going to take a shower now.”

He let go and wordlessly watched me until I closed the bathroom door. Either I was crazy, or he seemed worried. About me.

The water helped to wake me up a little bit. When I poured my shampoo in my hand, a little bit of it crept into some of the open flesh in my hand, and it stung. I was healing, though. At least I saw some improvement.

When I got out of the shower, I wrung as much water out of my hair and then threw it into a ponytail. I was going to have to buy a blow dryer when I went shopping with Celia.

Mikey was waiting outside the door for me with an unreadable expression on his face. “Maybe we should do this another day,” he started slowly. “When you’re stronger.”

“I’m fine,” I said, a little annoyed.

He bit his lip. “I know you think so, it’s just that this can get dangerous. Walking the streets is dangerous, let alone looking for danger so we can kill it.”

I tried not to let it surprise me that he said we would be looking for danger. I figured he didn’t just kill random people. “I’m strong enough,” I insisted. “And don’t forget that you’ll be with me. I can’t get killed, I’m a vampire. Can I?”

He sighed and shook his head. “Not unless someone’s got a particularly sharp stake, but you can still get hurt.”

“This is ridiculous,” I told him, exasperated. Slyly, I added, “And I’m really thirsty.” I hoped that would sway him. Usually, he gave me what I wanted.

It worked like a charm. “Alright then,” he allowed, giving in. “Let’s go eat a quick breakfast before we get going.”

I tried not to smirk as we made our way to the kitchen. He didn’t carry me down the stairs, but one of his hands hovered near my waist protectively the whole way down.

For the first time ever, we had a normal sized breakfast. He poured us two bowls of cheerios, and then we were ready to leave.

He opened the door and helped me in. He started to help me buckle my seatbelt, but I smiled at him and did it myself. So he got into his seat, turned on the car, and started driving.

After a few minutes, he spoke. “There’s a couple things you should know about this.”

I nodded.

He squirmed uneasily before saying, “I have these rules about hunting. If you don’t like them, you’re welcome to hunt with Gerard and Celia. They’re a bit more relaxed about it, but I’d prefer if you stayed with me.”

“Okay,” I agreed. “What are these rules?”

“I always kill criminals, I never kill woman, and I never change anyone into a vampire.”

“Sounds reasonable,” I said, feeling bad for him. These rules probably came to be because he was guilty about killing his wife. Maybe he just couldn’t put someone else through the pain he went through. “I understand.”

“Do you?” he mumbled grimly. He said it so quietly that I don’t think I was supposed to hear it, but I did.

I looked over at him and retorted, “Yeah, I really think I do.”

He immediately looked apologetic, and I was sorry I said it so caustically.

To change the subject, I decided to ask about something else. “So how does this work? What exactly are we doing?”

It took him a few seconds to answer. “I usually walk around the most dangerous parts of the city until I find a criminal; it isn’t hard. There’re plenty of them It’s a lot easier for us to sneak up on them than it is for them to sneak up on us because of how aware we are of their blood.”

“How is that? I feel it too, but I don’t know what it is.”

He seemed to be wondering how to answer me. “It’s kind of like a sixth sense,” he explained. “It’s not quite like the senses of sight, sound, taste, touch, or smell. It’s a combination of all of them, and it only works on blood.”

I was amazed at how well he described it. I couldn’t have done that well. Before I could ask another question, the city came into view through the last of the trees. I was utterly speechless. All the lights and technologies I never could’ve dreamed of stretched out before me.