9. Theory

"Can I ask just one more question?" Freen pleaded as Becky accelerated quickly down the quiet road.

"One," Becky agreed.

"Well... you said you knew I hadn't gone into the bookstore and that I had gone south. I was just wondering how you knew that."

Becky looked away deliberately.

After a moment of silence, she spoke, "I followed your scent." Becky glanced at the road, giving Freen time to process.

"My scent?" Freen echoed, bewildered.

"Yes. Your scent is distinct—unique, even. It's... difficult to explain." Becky's tone softened as if trying not to overwhelm Freen.

Freen certainly couldn't think of an acceptable response to such an admission. Before she could ask more, Becky continued.

"And... I can read minds," Becky said, her voice dropping slightly, almost hesitant.

Freen's eyebrows shot up. "You can what?"

Becky nodded, her hands tightening momentarily on the steering wheel. "I can hear what people are thinking. Their thoughts, their intentions—everything."

Freen's jaw slackened. "Wait. Everything?"

"Yes." Becky's lips twitched into a faint, rueful smile. "But not yours. For some reason, I can't hear you."

"Me? Why not?"

Becky shook her head. "I don't know. Your mind is silent to me. It's... fascinating."

There was a beat of silence before Freen blurted out, "How does it work—the mind-reading thing? I mean, can you read anybody's mind, anywhere? How did you do it? Can the rest of your family...?" She clamped her mouth shut abruptly, realizing she was rambling.

Becky chuckled softly, clearly amused by Freen's reaction. "No, it's just me. And I can't hear anyone, anywhere. I have to be fairly close. The more familiar someone's... 'voice' is, the better I can hear them. But still, no more than a few miles." She paused thoughtfully. "It's a little like being in a huge hall filled with people; everyone's talking all at once. It's just a constant buzzing of voices in the background. Until I focus on one voice, and then what they're thinking becomes clear."

"Most of the time, I tune it all out. It can be very distracting. That way, it's easier to seem normal." Becky grimaced slightly at the word.

Freen frowned, trying to absorb it all. "So... why can't you hear me?"

Becky's gaze flicked to Freen, her expression vaguely puzzled.

"I don't know," she murmured. "The only guess I have is that maybe your mind doesn't work the same way theirs do. Like your thoughts are on the AM frequency, and I'm only getting FM." A sly grin tugged at her lips.

Freen snorted. "My mind doesn't work, right? I'm a freak?"

"I hear voices in my head, and you're worried that you're a freak?" Becky laughed, the sound light and melodic, disarming Freen for a moment.

There was a beat of silence before Becky broke it.

"I'm still waiting for your latest theory."

Freen bit her lip, trying to avoid Becky's steady, expectant gaze.

"I won't laugh," Becky promised softly.

"I'm more afraid you'll be angry."

"It's that bad?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

Becky waited patiently as Freen stared at her hands, gathering the courage to speak.

"Go ahead," Becky said, her tone calm and encouraging.

"I don't know how to start," Freen admitted.

"Why don't you start from the beginning...? You said you didn't come up with this on your own?"

"No."

"When we were camping, Gemini was talking about local legends..."

Becky nodded, urging her to continue.

"He told us about vampires." Freen's voice dropped to a whisper, afraid the anger she'd anticipated might finally surface. She noticed Becky's knuckles tighten on the wheel.

"And you immediately thought of me?" Becky's tone was steady, though her shoulders were rigid.

"No. He... mentioned your family."

Becky remained silent, her eyes fixed ahead.

"What did you do then?"

"I did some research online."

"And did that convince you?" Becky asked, her grip on the wheel unyielding.

"No. Nothing fit. Most of it was super silly, to be honest. And then..." Freen hesitated, unsure if she should admit the next part.

"What?"

"I decided it didn't matter," Freen whispered, the words barely audible.

"It didn't matter?"

Freen finally looked up, meeting Becky's gaze as her tone shattered the stillness between them. Becky's expression was incredulous, her blazing golden eyes fixed on Freen with an intensity that made her heart race.

"No," Freen said softly, earnestly. "It doesn't matter to me what you are."

A mocking edge crept into Becky's voice. "You don't care if I'm a monster? If I'm not human?"

"No."

Becky fell silent, her face bleak and cold as if carved from stone.

"You're angry," Freen sighed. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"No," Becky said, her tone harsh but controlled. "I'd rather know what you're thinking."

"I'm right? Vampires are real?" Freen gasped.

"Does it matter?"

Freen took a deep breath. "Not really." She hesitated. "But I am curious."

Becky seemed resigned now. "What are you curious about?"

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen," Becky answered quickly.

"And how long have you been nineteen?"

Becky's lips twitched. "A while," she admitted.

"Okay." Freen smiled wider, though Becky's deepening frown made her feel bolder.

"How can you come out in the daylight?"

"Myth," Becky said simply.

"Burned by the sun?"

"Myth."

"Sleeping in coffins?"

"Myth." Becky hesitated for a moment. "I can't sleep."

Freen absorbed that. "Like, at all?"

"Never," Becky said, her voice barely audible.

Becky's tone sharpened. "You haven't asked me the most important question yet."

Freen blinked, caught off guard. "Which is that?"

"You aren't concerned about my diet?" Becky said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh. Oh." Freen stammered. "That."

"Yes, that," Becky said grimly. "Don't you want to know if I drink blood?"

Freen considered her answer carefully. "Gemini said you didn't hunt people. That you only hunted animals."

"He said we weren't dangerous?"

"Not exactly. He said you weren't supposed to be dangerous."

"And was he right?"

"About not hunting people? Yes."

Becky leaned forward slightly. "Don't let that make you complacent. Humans must keep their distance. We are still dangerous."

Freen frowned. "I don't understand."

Becky's voice softened. "We try to resist, but sometimes we fail. Me, for example, allowing myself to be alone with you."

Freen's heart sank. "That is a mistake?"

"A dangerous one," Becky admitted.

They were both silent. Freen felt that Becky's words hinted at an end, and she recoiled from the idea. She couldn't waste a minute with Becky.

"Tell me more," Freen asked, her voice tinged with desperation, eager to hear Becky's voice again.

"What more do you want to know?" Becky replied, her tone softer now.

"Tell me why you hunt animals instead of people," Freen suggested cautiously.

"I don't want to be a monster." Becky's voice dropped, low and burdened.

"But animals aren't enough?" Freen pressed gently.

Becky paused, choosing her words carefully. "I can't be sure, of course. We call ourselves vegetarians as an inside joke. It doesn't really satiate the hunger—or rather, the thirst—but it keeps us strong enough to resist. Most of the time." Her voice took on an ominous edge. "Sometimes it's more difficult."

"Is it very difficult for you now?" Freen asked, barely breathing as the question left her lips.

Becky sighed, her expression conflicted. "Yes."

"Were you hunting this weekend—with Billy?"

"Yes." Becky hesitated for a moment before admitting, "I didn't want to leave, but it was necessary. It's a bit easier to be around you when I'm not thirsty."

"Why didn't you want to leave?" Freen asked, a mix of confusion and hope filling her voice.

"It makes me... anxious... to be away from you." Becky's eyes softened, her vulnerability laid bare. "I was distracted all weekend, worrying about you. And after what happened tonight, I'm surprised you made it through a whole weekend unscathed. It was a very long three days for me. I really got on Billy's nerves."

"Three days? Didn't you just get back today?" Freen asked, her brows furrowing.

"No, we got back Sunday."

"Then why weren't any of you in school?" Freen's voice wavered, frustration bubbling up.

"You asked if the sun hurt me, and it doesn't. But I can't go out in the sunlight where anyone can see."

"Why not?"

"I'll show you sometime," Becky promised, her lips curving into a faint smile that faded quickly.

"You could have called me," Freen muttered, her tone tinged with a vulnerable edge.

"What?" Becky's velvet voice was compelling.

"I didn't like it—not seeing you. It makes me anxious, too." Freen's cheeks flushed as she confessed, her gaze dropping to her lap.

Becky's face contorted briefly, a mix of pain and something deeper crossing her features. "Ah," she groaned quietly. "This is wrong."

"Why?"

"Don't you see, Freen? It's one thing for me to make myself miserable, but a wholly other thing for you to be so involved." Becky turned her anguished eyes to the road.

"I don't want to hear that you feel that way," Freen said, her voice steady and resolute.

"It's wrong. It's not safe. I'm dangerous, Freen—please, grasp that."

"No."

"I'm serious," Becky growled, her tone edged with warning.

"So am I. I told you it doesn't matter what you are. It's too late."

Becky's voice lashed out, low and harsh. "Don't say that."

Freen flinched at the sudden anger. Silence filled the car, the tension thick and suffocating. Her mind spiraled into chaos, unsure of what to say or do.

"I'm sorry," Becky finally said, her voice dripping with regret. Her right hand moved toward Freen, as if to offer comfort, but halfway there, she pulled back, afraid of making contact.

Freen let out a small hum of acknowledgment, and all too soon, they were in front of Freen's house. Neither of them moved. After another beat of silence, Freen asked, "Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Yes. I have a paper due, too." Becky smiled faintly. "I'll save you a seat at lunch."

It was silly, but after everything that had happened tonight, that little promise sent flutters through Freen's stomach, rendering her momentarily speechless.

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

Freen hesitated, her hand on the door handle, trying to prolong the moment.

"Freen?" Becky called, her tone suddenly serious and hesitant.

"Yes?" Freen turned back, hoping her eagerness wasn't too apparent.

"Will you promise me something?"

"Yes," Freen responded immediately.

"Don't go into the woods alone."

Freen stared at her, confused. "Why?"

Becky frowned, her eyes narrowing as she stared past Freen out the window. "I'm not always the most dangerous thing out there. Leave it at that?"

Relief washed over Freen. This was a promise she could keep. "Of course, whatever you say."

"I'll see you tomorrow," Becky said with a sigh, and Freen reluctantly opened the door.

"Tomorrow, then."

"Freen?" She turned, and Becky was leaning toward her, her pale, radiant face just inches away. Freen swore her heart skipped a beat.

"Sleep well," Becky murmured, her breath brushing Freen's face and leaving her stunned. Freen blinked, thoroughly dazed, as Becky leaned back, a knowing smirk forming on her lips.

Becky waited until Freen had made her way to the front door. The quiet hum of the engine reached Freen's ears as the silver car disappeared around the corner. Freen went through the motions of getting ready for bed without paying attention to what she was doing. Nothing felt entirely clear at first, but as she fell gradually closer to unconsciousness, a few certainties became evident.

About three things, Freen was absolutely positive.

First, Becky was a vampire.

Second, there was a part of Becky—and Freen didn't know how potent that part might be—that thirsted for her blood.

And third, Freen was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with her.

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