“Those women you describe sound like witches, the dark kind. Not the good kind.”
“Why do they matter? I couldn’t see their faces or anything.” She looks away.
I arch an eyebrow at her. “Those witches more than likely were sent for stepping onto holy ground.”
She looks up with a confused expression on her angelic face. “I find that weird. Stereotype I’m guessing?”
I nod. “In a way yes. I have to be invited in a building, but otherwise a stereotype indeed. I find peace in the church.”
Dakota draws her knees to her chest. “But the others don’t know what you are besides Ms. Evergreen?”
“Correct. If this were a pop quiz then you surely would have aced it.”
She gives me a weak smile.
Oh, Lord have mercy on my undead soul.
I could spend an eternity watching the way her face lights up with a smile.
Clearing my throat, I turn sideways as if I plan to head to the door. “I will allow you to get some rest. We’ll have you back to classes in no time.”
“Mr. Daniels?”
My back is to Dakota, but I tilt my head, waiting for her to continue.
“What you did…in the woods…Thanks.”
Turning my head, I peer over my shoulder at her. Her gratitude warms my cold heart. Something I haven’t felt since before I turned, and it’s been a long time since I felt that way. “You’re welcome, Ms. Mitchell.”
As I leave the guest room to give her some privacy, I cannot help but to wish I could call her mine. Especially after the way she looked at me.
Dakota
The duration of two days that I spent at Mr. Daniels’ home is both awkward and intense. You can’t really call his place a house because it’s a freaking mansion. I was told I could go into any part of the mansion except for the basement.
Not that I wanted to explore down there anyways, too many horror movies I’d watched over the years involving murderers leaving their victims locked away in a freezer.
Ms. Evergreen kept me company during those two days, telling me all about herself as a witch. While it was interesting to say the least, I felt uncomfortable talking about magic and how she practices it. After all, she works as an Earth Science teacher at a private school, a church that pays her to teach me science.
Science can’t explain magic. But she swears up and down that she practices good magic, like I’m supposed to know what that means.
While at Mr. Daniels’ mansion, I didn’t get to be in close proximity to him. It was as if he was trying to respect my space, my need to be alone given what I now knew about him.
He’s a vampire, Ms. Evergreen is a witch— it makes me wonder what else is real, if all paranormal creatures are. Andcome to think of it, I didn’t exactly see Mr. Daniels’ very often. He’d be out the door faster than my mind could comprehend.
By the time I returned to the private school, Ms. Evergreen seemed to take me under her wing. Whatever that meant. But it also signified that she thinks I’m like her— a witch. Although try as I might, I can’t seem to shake off the feeling that she could be right.
Several weeks go by. The only time I see Mr. Daniels is whenever I have a lesson period with him, otherwise I never get to talk with him. Those few weeks, I didn’t have the nightmare and it was a blessing, and a curse. A blessing so that I can finally get some much needed sleep, but a curse because I want an excuse to talk to Mr. Daniels, to Max, alone.
His voice gives me goosebumps, those dark eyes of his sends my heart fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings. And that crooked smile nearly sends me into a frenzy of wanting to be like every other girl on the property— completely wanting to jump his bones.
I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I feel safe and protected when I’m in his presence. I don’t know if it’s because I know what he is, or because he rescued me. Either way, I’m grateful and wanting to be close to him makes me feel queasy.
The last time I tried to trust someone important in my life, they did something bad.
Mom had told me that this was the last straw, should I decide to leave this school for whatever reason, then she’d send me to a mental institution. She’s still pissed that I caught dad selling illegal drugs to a few underage kids and got thrown in prison. Mom even refuses to talk to me, and I’ve been at this school for a month, not that she seems to care.
The bell rings and startles me out of my daydream. Mr. Daniels is leaning his back against his desk and has his arms folded. That damn crooked smile is in place, and he seems tobe watching me as I clamber to my feet, and I’m one of the last classmates to leave.