Hunted

first. I squared my shoulders and looked around. We’d come up in a little room that had a half wall, and then bank teller-like windows cut in the real wall, complete with tarnished brass bars on the front. I decided quickly it must have been the depot ticket office. From there we entered a huge room. The floor was marble and it still looked slick and butterlike in the dimness. The walls were weird, though. All kinda rough and bare from the floor up to about a foot or so above my head, and then the decorations started. They were blurred by dust and time and inattention, and there were cobwebs hanging all over (eesh, first bats and now spiders!), but the vibrant old Art Deco colors were still visible, telling stories of Native American mosaic patterns, feather headdresses, horses, leather, and fringe.
    I gazed around at the corroded beauty, and thought this could make a great school. It was big and it had the same kind of grace as many of Tulsa’s downtown buildings had, thanks to the oil boom and 1920s Art Deco styling. Lost in thought of what might someday be, I walked across the empty lobby, peeking around, noticing hallways that stretched off from this one big room, leading to others, wondering if there were enough of them for several classrooms. We took one of those hallways and it dead-ended at wide double glass doors. Jack bobbed his head at them. “That’s the gym.” We all gazed through the time-dirtied glass. In the nonlight I could just make out blobs of shapes that looked like great sleeping beasts from a dead world. “And over there’s the door to the boys’ locker room.” Jack pointed to a closed door to the right of the gym. “And there’s the girls’.”
    “Okay, well, I’m going to hit the showers,” I said lamely. “Erik, would you and Jack let Damien know about Kramisha’s poems? Tell him if he has to talk to me about it I’ll be in Stevie Rae’s room, hopefully sound asleep for at least a few hours. If it can wait, we’ll all meet and try to figure out what it could mean after we’ve rested.” I shifted the towels and bathrobes I’d been clutching so I could wipe sleepily at my face.
    “You need to rest, Z. Not even you can go through all of this and keep functioning without sleep,” Erik said.
    “Yeah, if Damien wasn’t staying awake with me, I’d be scared of falling asleep on watch duty,” Jack said, and yawned for punctuation.
    “The Twins will take over for you soon.” I smiled at Jack. “Just hold on till then.” My smile widened to include Erik. “I’ll see you soon. Both of you.”
    I started to turn away and Erik’s touch on my arm stopped me. “Hey, we’re together again. Aren’t we?”
    I met Erik’s eyes and saw his vulnerability through the pretend confidence of his smile. He wouldn’t understand if I said I needed to talk to him about, well, sex before I agreed to get back together with him. That would hurt his ego as well as his heart and then I’d be back where I was before, with me kicking myself for being the cause of us being apart.
    So I simply said, “Yeah, we’re together again.”
    The sweet vulnerability was reflected in the kiss he bent to place on my lips. It wasn’t a groping, demanding, we’re-gonna-have-sex-now kiss. It was a warm, gentle, I’m-so-glad-we’re-back-together kiss, and it utterly melted me.
    “Get some sleep. I’ll see you soon,” he whispered. He kissed my forehead quickly, then he and Jack disappeared through the boys’ locker room door.
    I stood there for a while, just looking at the closed door and thinking. Had I been wrong about the change in Erik? Had I misunderstood what was behind his passion in the tunnel? After all, he wasn’t a fledgling anymore. He was a fully Changed, adult vampyre. That made him a man, even though he was still nineteen, just like he’d been less than a week ago, before he’d Changed.
    Maybe the increase in the sexual tension between us was natural, and not just because he thought I was a skank now that I’d given up my virginity. Erik was a man, I repeated the thought to myself. I already knew from the disaster with Loren Blake that being with a man was different than being with a boy or a fledgling. Erik was a fully Changed vampyre, like Loren had been. The thought sent nervous skitters through my body. “Like Loren” wasn’t a particularly good analogy. But Erik definitely was not Loren! Erik had never used me or lied to me. Erik was Changed, but he was still the