Sensitive to the Light Immortal Bloodlines I

Sensitive to the Light (Chapter 7)

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I sat and stared at the fire for what seemed like hours just trying to make sense of my thoughts.

1) There was a distinct possibility that a Vampire had killed that bitch of a tutor.  There was also a distinct possibility that I had in fact been rescued by a Vampire (Callan) when I passed out at the sight of her bloodied corpse.

2) I had been taken to a Vampire's home where I had been looked after and comforted.  I had been listened to, they hadn’t pitied me or treated me like an outsider.

3) We drank, talked, laughed and danced like normal people.  I had felt safe.  Even my crippling lack of self confidence was hardly an issue (after Bette had given me a good talking to of course).

4) Callan kissed me.

All things considered (murders notwithstanding), it had been a bloody good day, and the last thing I wanted to do was cock it all up.  Callan, Bette and Julius are the only people in my life so far that I have actually felt a connection to - I mean, what if it was all a coincidence.  I’d never live it down and I would lose the first friends I’d made since moving here.

I took a cigarette from the pack on the dusty floor next to me and lit it.  I could feel the tension ebbing away as I inhaled the warm smoke.  Who cares about death when your life adds up to a big heap of nothing.  I flicked the ash into the hearth as the cigarette burned down, finally flicking the butt into the flames.

I sighed as I threw myself down onto the musty pile of blankets I had slept in last night.  I really ought to at least try and do something with this place.  I can’t fix the roof or the ancient wiring, but I should really figure out which rooms were safe to step into without falling through the floor... Or I could slap some paint on the walls and keep living in this room, a squatter in my own home.

My bag started buzzing.  I rummaged for my phone for a moment before I gave up and tipped it up over the floor.  I really need a smaller bag, or at least less crap to put in it.

By the time I found my phone, it had stopped buzzing.  I checked the caller ID.

Callan... Shit...

It buzzed again

     “Hey Daegan, It’s Callan.  I’m sorry for calling so late, I guess you’re asleep.  I just wanted to make sure you got home safe & to let you know that I’m still coming to pick you up in the a.m so we can get your car.”

Butterflies began to dance in my stomach as I tapped out my response

      “Not sleeping - couldn’t find my phone :( The track is pretty much washed out from all the rain - stop before you hit the cattle grid and I’ll meet you there.”

I paused.  Do I say anything about earlier?

      “Thank you... For everything.”

That should cover it.

“...P.S It’s not a car, it’s a truck :P  Daegan.”

Callan