15. The Armstrongs

It was hard to decide what to wear. Freen doubted there were any etiquette books detailing how to dress when your vampire sweetheart takes you home to meet her vampire family.

She ended up in dark grey chinos and a red flannel Becky had once complimented. A quick glance in the mirror told Freen her hair was manageable today, falling in soft waves. She let it land loosely over her shoulders and her back, framing her face.

"Okay, I'm decent." Becky was waiting at the foot of the stairs, closer than Freen thought, and she bounded right into her. She steadied Freen, holding her a careful distance away for a few seconds before suddenly pulling Freen closer.

"Wrong again," her cool breath ghosted Freen's ear. "You are utterly indecent—no one should look so tempting, it's not fair."

"Keep it in your pants," Freen laughs, feeling the blood already rushing to her cheeks.

Becky sighed, shaking her head. "You are so absurd." She pressed her lips delicately to Freen's forehead, and the room seemed to fade away. The smell of Freen made it impossible to think.

"Shall I show how much you are tempting me?" It was clearly a rhetorical question. Becky's fingers traced slowly down Freen's spine, her breath coming more quickly against Freen's flushed skin. Her hands were tight around Becky's solid biceps.

Cool lips met inexplicable warmth, and Becky's steel grip tightened. Freen's lips parted instinctively against Becky's, and she could feel the tug of razor-sharp teeth as Becky seemed to give into her more primal urges. Her lips diverted, following the curve of Freen's neck instead, gently nipping at the skin."What am I going to do with you?" Becky groaned with false exasperation before pulling back altogether. "We should get going."

Freen realized, as Becky drove her truck out of the main part of town, that Freen had no idea where she lived. Then they were past the other houses altogether, driving through misty forest. Freen was trying to decide whether to ask or be patient when Becky turned abruptly onto an unpaved road. It was unmarked, barely visible among the ferns. The forest encroached on both sides, leaving the road ahead only discernible for a few meters as it twisted, serpentlike, around the ancient trees.

The house appeared suddenly, guarded by tall evergreens and redwoods.

The house was far from the dungeons and dragons she expected. It was modern to the point of looking like a small Californian party mansion. Glass windows make up most of the walls, and warm-toned wood separates the floors. The absolute last place you would expect a group of vampires to shack up, which probably made it the ideal hideout.

"Nervous?"

"Just a bit," Freen admitted, before unbuckling her seatbelt, "ready?"

Becky opened the door for Freen. She got out and looked around, taking it all in for the first time.

Freen took Becky's hand without thinking as they walked through the deep shade to the porch. Becky seemed to sense Freen's tension, rubbing soothing circles on her hand before opening the door.

Inside, the space was more surprising than expected—bright, open, and vast. The first floor had been transformed by removing most walls, and the south-facing glass wall offered a view of the river beyond the cedars. A massive staircase curved along the room, and everything—walls, ceiling, floors—was various shades of white.

Becky's parents stood by the grand piano, waiting. Freen had seen Dr. Armstrong before, but his perfection still struck her. At his side stood Rawe, who resembled Becky with angular features, brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. They both dressed in light colors, blending with the house's interior. They smiled but didn't approach, probably trying not to startle Freen.

"Robert, Rawe," Becky greeted. "This is Freen."

"You're very welcome, Freen," Robert said, stepping forward cautiously. He offered a hand, and Freen shook it.

"It's nice to see you again, Dr. Armstrong."

"Please, call me Robert."

Rawe stepped forward, offering her cool handshake. "It's very nice to know you."

"Thank you. I'm glad to meet you too." And she was. It was like meeting some fairy tale creatures that were impossibly ethereal.

"Where are Irin and Billy?" Becky asked, but no one answered, as they had suddenly appeared at the top of the wide staircase.

"Hey, Becky!" Irin called enthusiastically. She ran down the stairs, a streak of brown hair and pale olive skin, coming to a sudden and graceful stop in front of Freen. Robert and Rawe shot warning glances at her, but Freen liked it. It was natural—for her, anyway, and increasingly normal for Freen to be around other people with similar abilities.

"Hi, Freen." She walked forward smoothly, hugging Freen in a quick motion before pulling back. If Robert and Rawe had looked cautious before, they now looked staggered. There was shock in Freen's eyes, not expecting a sudden hug, but was also pleased that she seemed to approve of her so entirely. She was startled to feel Becky stiffen at her side. Freen glanced at her face, but her expression was unreadable.

"You do smell nice, I never noticed before," she commented, to Freen's extreme embarrassment.

No one else seemed to know quite what to say, and then Billy was there—tall and neat in appearance. A feeling of ease spread through Freen, and she was suddenly comfortable despite where she was.

"Hello, Freen," Billy greeted. He kept his distance, not offering to shake her hand, but it was impossible to feel awkward near him.

"Hi, Billy." Freen smiled at him shyly and then at the others. "It's nice to meet you all—you have a very beautiful home," she added conventionally.

"Thank you," Rawe spoke softly. "We're so glad that you came."

It was with feeling, and Freen realized that she thought she was brave.

Freen also realized that Richie and Song were nowhere to be seen, and she remembered Becky's too-innocent denial when she'd asked Becky if the others didn't like her.

Robert's expression distracted Freen from this train of thought; he was gazing meaningfully at Becky with an intense expression. Out of the corner of her eye, Freen saw Becky nod once.

She looked away, trying to be polite. Freen's eyes wandered again to the beautiful instrument on the platform by the door. She always admired the piano. It was her favourite instrument.

Rawe noticed her preoccupation.

"Do you play?" she asked, inclining her head toward the piano.

Freen shook her head. "I've never played, I'd like to one day. It's beautiful; is it yours?"

"No," she laughed. "Becky didn't tell you she was a musical genius?"

"No." Freen challenged Becky's suddenly innocent expression with narrowed eyes. "I should have known, I guess."

Rawe raised her brows in the same manner as Becky—it was uncanny—in confusion.

"Becky can do everything, right?" Freen explained; Irin snickered, and Rawe gave Becky a reproving look.

"I hope you haven't been showing off—it's rude," she scolded.

"Just a bit," Becky laughed freely. Rawe's face softened at the sound, and they shared a brief look that Freen didn't understand, though Rawe's face seemed almost smug.

"She's been too modest, actually," Freen corrected with her own soft smile.

"Well, play for her," Rawe encouraged.

Becky objected. "You just said showing off was rude."

"There are exceptions to every rule."

"I'd like to hear you play," Freen volunteered.

"It's settled then." Rawe pushed Becky toward the piano; Becky pulled Freen along, sitting Freen on the bench beside her.

Becky gave her a long, exasperated look before she turned to the keys. Then, her fingers flowed swiftly across the ivory, and the room was filled with a composition so complex, so luxuriant that it was impossible to believe only one set of hands played. Freen felt her jaw drop in astonishment before she tried to quickly recover, but not before hearing the low chuckles behind her at her reactions. Becky looked at Freen casually, the music still surging around them without pause, and winked.

"Do you like it?" Freen was learning to see past Becky's mask of cool indifference; she could see the earnestness in those sea-green eyes, seeking Freen's approval.

"You wrote this?" She didn't even try to prevent the awe that leaked into her words like oil.

Becky nodded, a small smile taking over. "It's Rawe's favourite." Freen closed her eyes and shook her head. "What's wrong?"

"I'm feeling extremely insignificant."

The music slowed, transforming into something softer, something that Freen couldn't help but recognize immediately as the same melody of Becky's lullaby weaving through the profusion of notes.

"You inspired this one," Becky spoke softly as the music grew unbearably sweeter.

Freen was speechless, short-circuiting.

"They like you, you know," Becky said casually. "Rawe especially."

Freen glanced around; the room was empty now. "Where did they go?"

"Giving us privacy, I suppose."

Freen sighed. "They like me, but Song and Richie..."

Becky frowned. "Don't worry about Richie. He'll come around."

Freen lifted her glasses sceptically. "Song?"

"She thinks I'm a lunatic, but she's fine with you. Richie is trying to reason with Song."

"What's upsetting her?"

Becky sighed, her fingers still moving across the keys. "Song struggles with what we are. It's hard for her to have someone outside know the truth. And she's a little jealous."

"Jealous of me?" Freen questioned, incredulous.

"You're human," Becky said, gesturing to Freen's ears. "She wishes she were too."

"Oh." Freen understood now. "Even Richie though..."

"That's my fault," Becky admitted. "I told you he was the most recent to try our way of life. I wanted him to keep his distance."

"And Rawe and Robert?"

"They're happy to see me happy. Rawe wouldn't care if you had a third eye. She's been worried about me, but now she's ecstatic. Every time I touch you, she's thrilled."

"Irin seems enthusiastic."

"Irin has her own way of looking at things," Becky's frown said more than her words.

"And you're not going to explain that, are you?" Freen asked, catching the unspoken communication between them.

Becky didn't answer. "So, what was Robert telling you before?"

"You noticed that, did you?" Becky said, raising an eyebrow.

Freen shrugged. "Of course."

She looked at Freen for a moment before answering. "He wanted to tell me some news—didn't know if it was something I should share with you."

"Will you?"

"I have to. I'll be a little overbearingly protective for the next few days or weeks, and I wouldn't want you thinking I'm a tyrant."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, exactly. Billy got word of some visitors coming soon. They know we're here, and they're curious."

"Visitors?"

"Yes, they aren't like us—more cautious in their hunting. They probably won't come into town, but I'm not letting you out of my sight until they're gone."

Freen looked away, her eyes drifting around the room.

Becky followed her gaze. "Not what you expected, huh?"

"No," Freen admitted bashfully.

"It's so light... so open."

Becky was more serious when she answered. "It's the one place we never have to hide."

The song was still playing, Freen's song, drifting to an end, the final chords shifting to a more melancholy key. The last note hovered poignantly in the silence.

"Thank you," Freen realized there were tears in her eyes. She dabbed at them, embarrassed.

Becky touched the corner of her eye, trapping a tear Freen had missed. She lifted her finger, examining the drop of moisture broodingly.

Freen looked at her questioningly, and Becky gazed back for a long moment before she finally smiled.

"Do you want to see the rest of the house?"

"No coffins?" Freen verified, the sarcasm in her voice not entirely masking the slight but genuine anxiety she felt.

Becky laughed, taking Freen's hand and leading her away from the piano.

"No coffins," she promised.

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