Eleisha decided not to talk-as he'd introduced her as his sister, and she couldn't fake a French accent.
"Um… okay," the woman said. "How far up on the hill?"
"I'll show you." He smiled and held out his hand. "Philip."
"Trudy," she responded, taking his hand, her voice shaking.
Eleisha climbed into the backseat quickly, as this was the only difficult part of her new routine. They couldn't let their intended victim start the car. So far, while training Philip, Eleisha had handled this part.
Earlier tonight, she told him he'd be on his own. He needed to learn how to do this.
But as Trudy put on her seat belt and fiddled with the keys, Philip just sat there, examining the stereo.
Without invading his private thoughts, Eleisha flashed out telepathically.
Put her to sleep!
He flinched and then frowned. Maybe he wanted to go for a ride up to Capitol Hill? He reached out to touch Trudy's face with the tips of his fingers just before she put her keys in the ignition.
"Wait," he said softly.
Her hand paused in midair.
Eleisha watched Philip's face as his eyes narrowed slightly in concentration. He was getting better at controlling his newfound abilities. Right now, he was inside Trudy's mind, lulling her to sleep.
Within seconds, her head fell back against the seat. Her eyes were closed.
He'd done it.
"Good," Eleisha said. "Remember to feed from her wrist."
"I know!"
His whole body looked tense, as if it took all his effort not to rip out Trudy's throat. His lips twisted back over his teeth, and his eyes were hard. Eleisha had seen him struggle in their earlier practice sessions but never like this.
"Philip?" she asked, getting ready to launch over the seat.
He moved closer to Trudy, took her right wrist in his hand, and bit down, being careful not to tear too much skin-just as Eleisha had taught him.
She relaxed slightly. He seemed to have gained control of himself, and the worst was over. All he had to do now was keep Trudy asleep, take enough blood… enough life force to sustain himself, and then replace her memories of meeting him with one that convinced her she'd fallen and gashed her own wrist and then climbed into the car before passing out.
Accomplishing this last part was easy, or at least Eleisha thought so. They would be out of the car in a few moments.
But then Philip's feeding sounds grew louder, and he suddenly used both hands to grip Trudy's arm inside his mouth as he tore down deeper, draining and drinking her blood fast enough to kill her. His features were taut, and his eyes were glowing.
He'd lost himself.
Eleisha knew better than to touch him when he got like this. On instinct, she flashed out telepathically.
Stop it!
To her relief, he jerked his head back, pulling his teeth from Trudy's arm.
But this broke his mental hold on her, and she opened her eyes, seeing his blood-smeared face, seeing her torn arm, and she began to scream. Anyone within a hundred yards would hear her.
He snarled and covered her mouth with his hand.
"No!" Eleisha said, and this time, she reached over the seat, grabbing his shoulder, trying to pull him back. "Get off!"
Instantly, she reached out with her thoughts, taking control of Trudy's mind, rushing her back in time to the moment she walked into the parking garage.
The inside of the car fell silent, and even while she focused on Trudy's memories, Eleisha could feel Philip's tight shoulder easing beneath her fingers.
The memory of a simple fall would no longer work.
Eleisha created the image of a mugger as she rebuilt the last ten minutes in Trudy's mind. Trudy walked toward her waiting Taurus. A man jumped out from behind the column, waving a knife and shouting for her bag. He slashed at her, and when she raised her arm, he cut her several times. She dropped the bag. He grabbed it and ran. Terrified, she made it inside the car and then passed out.
Eleisha opened her eyes and reached to Philip.
"Give me your knife."
He was staring at her in confusion, as if he wasn't sure what was happening, but he reached down into his boot and pulled out the hunting knife he always carried. Eleisha took it and leaned all the way over the seat, making a few shallow cuts in Trudy's arm, hoping to cover the mess Philip had made. Then she handed the blade back to him.
"Get her bag from the floor," she said. "Hurry."
She was out of the car before he was, but he followed quickly, slamming the door and carrying Trudy's bag. Eleisha headed for the stairs.
He followed.
Either no one had heard Trudy screaming or no one cared, but Eleisha didn't even start to relax until they were back up Western Avenue again, moving farther away from the market.
Then Philip stepped in front of her, wiping the blood from his mouth onto his black sleeve. He didn't touch her, but he wouldn't let her pass.
"You're angry," he said.
Was she angry? She didn't think so. She wasn't sure what she felt. He shouldn't be having this much trouble. The fact that they didn't have to kill anymore shifted the entire balance of their existence. Why couldn't he see that?
She shook her head.
"Then what is wrong?" he asked. "You are different tonight, even before… before that in the car. So quiet and no fun at all." When agitated, he had more trouble with English.
But Philip always said she was no fun if she didn't do exactly what he wanted. She was used to that.
Tonight he could somehow sense more. And he was right. She'd had something on her mind for weeks now… something she had not told him or Wade.
"Let's just get a taxi and go back to the house," she said. "We can talk there."
"No." He didn't move. "Tell me you are not angry."
He could be such a child sometimes. He looked ten years older than her. He was thirty years older, and he'd recently passed the two-century mark. Yet he often made her feel like the grown-up.
Still, she understood him. Philip hated being alone more than anything, and he'd spent one hundred and eighty-three years of his undead existence alone. Now that he had companionship, he feared losing it.
She reached out to take the bag from him, tossing it into a Dumpster.
"I'm not angry," she said. "But you need to try harder."
He had to learn to control his blood lust while focusing his telepathy at the same time.
His expression melted into relief. "Is that all? Yes, yes, I will try harder." Then, as if forgetting the entire event in the parking garage had taken place, he turned and sidestepped so she could walk beside him.
"Did you rent a new movie for tonight?" he asked. "With guns and explosions?"
"No, I want to talk to you and Wade about something."
"About what?"
"Let's just go to the house."
Wade often felt at odds, rattling around the house by himself as if he had nothing better to do than wait for Eleisha and Philip to come back.
Unfortunately… he didn't have anything better to do.
Not quite three months ago, he'd enjoyed an orderly life, one he'd worked hard to create. He had a posh loft in Portland, Oregon, a career as a police psychologist, and the respect of his peers.
Now he had no job, no home of his own, and he was living in Seattle with two vampires.
What the hell happened to his life?
But he already knew the answer.
Eleisha.
Wade had always been a little out of the ordinary. For one, he'd been born telepathic, so he'd never expected a completely normal life… but this?
He wandered from the kitchen and into the living room, glancing at the television and the small pile of Philip's DVDs on the floor. Eleisha never watched TV of her own accord. Yet for someone who'd been around since the early 1800s, she was surprisingly well-adjusted to the modern world. Philip, however, was not, and sometimes, Wade regretted having taught him to use the DVD player. Philip had developed a fascination with action movies-especially anything by John Woo with Chow Yun-Fat-and he tended to play one after the other when he was bored.