Chapter Three
Of course, it wasn’t really a body. It was only Ambrose, but he looked so much more like a cadaver when he was asleep. Without the benefit of semi-human facial expressions and gestures, the lack of breathing and unconscious movement was very obvious. The effect was both neat and frightening. I routed through some of his stuff (and I still feel guilty about it), I wrote ‘I’ll be back’ on an empty envelope from somewhere in the middle of Africa, and quickly headed back to the lit up sanctuary.
I somehow knew that hanging around the church all day would be useless, so I decided to check in at home, but it took me forever to find out where the heck I was. I was so lost that it took me till mid-afternoon before I got there. I was barely in the door when my uncle accosted me.
“Where have you been all night?” he accused.
I didn’t answer right away, and racked my brain for a back story. “What are you doing home? I thought you would be working.”
“I have the day off, now where were you? Your boyfriend showed up at four a.m. looking for you.”
“No wonder you’re so grumpy.” He glared at me. “Okay, okay. Paul got drunk, so I stayed with a friend. I told you I wouldn’t be back for a while.”
This whole statement was technically true. Although I did plan to get home the night before, and I wasn’t sure Ambrose counted as a friend yet. Uncle Stefan sighed. He had learned by now that I can get away with anything.
“Do you want me to make you a sandwich?” He asked, raising the white flag.
“No”
“Can I get anything for you?”
“I’ll find something later.”
I went to live with Stefan after my mom left. We were never very close, mostly my fault for being such a brat, but he always made sure I had clothes and school lunches, and that I kept going to school. He can’t really cook though, so I’ve eaten a lot of sandwiches in my life. My Uncle shuffled of somewhere and soon I heard him tramp into his study.
I quickly headed to my room, which was on the second floor, and did my version of tidying up. I threw a sheet over the bed so it looked made and moved some cloths from the floor to the hamper so Stefan could collect them later. Then I took a shower.
I didn’t take long to perform my ablutions and I paused only to glance in the mirror. I’m not the best one to describe myself but I like to think I’m pretty. I have nice features, petite like my frame, and my mom used to say I had eyes like pale cornflowers, which is good I think. I just call them blue. My hair is black, and very short. I’ve always wanted long flowing locks but mine is to thin so it looks stringy if I don’t cut it. I just wanted to run a comb through said hair since I don’t wear makeup. My eyelashes are long enough on their own, my pale skin doesn’t take well to blush, and lip gloss bothers me. I then pulled on a black turtle neck, which might have looked frumpy if I hadn’t offset it with a miniskirt.
I decided to polish off the rest of the Chinese food in the fridge. Downstairs I dumped the contents of a carton marked “Stefan” onto a plate with a smile. Microwaved noodles always taste better when their pilfered. Since I was already in trouble I disposed of the evidence. The container went into the trash and I washed the plate. I was already on the computer when Stefan emerged. He immediately noticed I was both wearing black and looking up vampires.
“Oh no, you’re not going Goth on me are you?”
“Heck no, do I look that full of angst? Check out the face. No white makeup here.”
“So what’s with the black?”
“I’m going someplace nice tonight.” Not a lie, if you considered a dusty old church nice.
“And the Vampires?”
“I’m just bored. This is interesting.” My guardian replied with a sigh, shrugged, and shuffled into the kitchen. He loves to shuffle when he’s being moody.
“Natasha, did you eat my Chinese food? It was in the fridge.” he called. He knows me too well. I told him he must be getting old and senile because it wasn’t in the fridge the last time I looked. This is true. When I went to get a coke the stuff was already in my stomach.
I call him senile all the time, it’s a private joke. He usually replies that I’m a young hooligan, but he must have known it was me, since he just started banging some pots around on the stove. Eventually I got off the computer and joined him at the table. Knowing I had to stay in his good graces I choked down the lumpy tomato soup.
“I’m heading out now.” I announced, taking my dishes to the sink.
“Are you coming back?”
“No. I’ll stay with a friend.” He scowled at me. “Just think. You can have the place all to yourself.”
“Yeah, I can calculate someone’s budget in peace.” Poor Stefan, the reluctant accountant. I hope he gets a girlfriend someday; he sure needs more fun in his life.
Refusing to let his sour mood ruin my good one I grabbed my jacket and was out the door, anxious for my next encounter with the dashing vampire.
