Moon Island (Chapter Four)
"You're going on a trip," said the voice on the other end when I picked up.
I dropped my folded tank top in the suitcase. "How the devil did you know that?"
"I've been feeling it all day," said Allison. "A strong feeling that you were going away and that you needed me. I'm kinda psychic, you know. Not the full- blown type, but I think spending time with all of you vampires has sort of rubbed off on me."
I had met Allison on my last case, the girlfriend of another boxer. A murdered boxer. Allison and I had shared a…moment. A highly unusually moment.
Two moments, in fact, I thought.
She and I had connected, or bonded instantly. She had quickly seen through my façade, having dated a vampire herself.
And the next thing I knew, she was allowing me to drink from a wound in her hand. A wound that had quickly healed once I was done drinking.
My life is so weird.
We'd talked often since, although we had yet to meet again. She had quickly become like an old girlfriend to me. A sister.
A blood sister.
"Yes, I'm going on a trip," I said, now reaching for some jeans in my closet, cradling the phone against my shoulder and ear.
"See? I knew you were going on a trip.
I'm coming with you."
"No, you're not."
"Yes, I am, Sam. You need me."
"Need you how?"
"This is a business trip, no?"
"Yes, but – "
"I sense very strongly that you are going to need my help, if you know what I mean."
Actually, I did know what she meant. I stopped reaching for my jeans as I stood there in front of my open closet. A closet, I might add, that was quickly filling up with clothes. Now that I could actually go into the light of day, I needed a whole new wardrobe, right? Like that tank top I had just dropped in the suitcase. Many cute tank tops, in fact. And shorts. And sandals.
Allison was, of course, referring to fresh human blood – fresh, as in, straight from the source. A living, human source.
Such blood energized me unlike anything I'd ever had before. Yes, I'd had human blood – but never hemoglobin straight from a willing source.
And Allison had been very, very willing. Apparently, she loved the experience.
I said, "I don't think my client will allow you to come."
"Say I'm your assistant."
"I doubt she'll – "
"She will, Sam. Trust me. And trust me when I say you will need me. I'm here now at the airport."
I think my mouth dropped. Correction, I know my mouth dropped open. "What airport?"
"LAX. The 4:40 flight. Lucky for me they had one seat left."
"Let me guess…" I said.
"Row 17, Seat C."
I glanced down at my ticket next to my suitcase. Row 17, Seat B."
"You're freaking me out," I said.
"I get that a lot," she said. "Now, chop-chop."
And with that, she hung up.