Where Dead Flowers Grow

iii. The Wild Hunt

IT was a strange, weightless feeling that overcame Annabel as she stood patiently waiting for the phone to connect to the authorities. Her cheeks were still flushed from her rather embarrassing and overly dramatic plea for change from a lone, overly zealous tourist (if the I HEART NY shirt and telescopic camera were anything to go by). She wondered if the police back home would still be looking for her, or if she'd been missing long enough not to matter anymore. After all, she was just another name on a piece of paper in a file full of runaways and delinquents. She was another youngster plastered over the local town hall message board. She was a statistic. A tragic reminder. A warning.

Annabel stopped herself, just as the line connected. Did she really want her last call to be to the police? Whatever it was the vampires wanted to do to her, this might be her last chance to say goodbye. She hung up the phone and redialed, it was a number she'd thought of calling many times but never let herself go through with it and in that quiet moment surrounded by strangers Annabel was overcome with homesickness, so severe, so strong, that she felt she might never be whole again.

Her stomach twisted with nerves as someone on the other end of the line picked up with a yawn. "Hello, Young residence?"

It was her mother. She sounded tired, sleepy. Tears pricked Annabel's eyes as she tried to remember her face, her soft curls, the slight quirk of her mouth as she pronounced certain words, her paint stained fingertips. Annabel pinched the bridge of her nose to stop herself from crying.

Hearing her mother's voice was as if the last two years had never happened.

"Mom?" Her voice shook as she tried to force the lump in her throat away. "It's me. It's Anna. No, no. I'm okay, please don't cry. I needed to speak to you. I needed to hear your voice before...before I went away. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to leave you the way I did, but with Mia I - I just - I couldn't stay. I was so scared and so angry and I couldn't lose you too. I couldn't risk hurting anyone else. I just wish I could've been better. I've missed you so much, and daddy and Jacob and - oh god - I made such a mess of things, mom. But I need you to know that I love you. I love you so much, so much. Please don't cry." Annabel paused, caught her breath and began again. "Can you do something for me? I'm in New York. I need you to call the police and tell them I'm in trouble. Tell them I'm in Central Park. Can you do that for me? I'm wearing a flowery dress and no jacket, my hair is in a bun —"

A ripple of pain zipped down her spine with the strength of a lightning bolt. She let out a cry and closed her eyes for a moment to steady herself. The sweat began to bead down her neck, between her breasts. She had to get out of here. Time was running out, she had an hour at the most before the Change became unavoidable. Before the pain became too much.

"I'm okay, I'm fine." Annabel paused, rethinking her next move. "I know this sounds crazy and I promise to explain everything when I can. I'm sorry, mom. I wish things were different. I have to go now." Annabel leaned her head against the glass wall of the phone booth and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "Tell Jacob Coney Island is nice this time of year."

Annabel hung up the phone with wet cheeks and a heavy heart. If she'd heard her mom speak for more than just a moment she would have lost her composure and her will to fight. No, this was better. Her shoulders felt lighter, somehow. She wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry harder.

It made the journey to Central Park that much easier knowing she had said goodbye.

Annabel made her way out into the night and scanned the crowds for any sign of the vampires. When she was sure it was safe to move, she hailed a cab and with nerves and nausea rolling in her stomach and ordered him to take her to her destination. It was a short ride, and she tried not to focus on the glances the driver kept giving her every now and then (he probably thought she was drunk, she wished she was). Her dress was almost soaked through with sweat and her vision was blurring at the edges.