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The Silver kissAnnette Curtis Klause1 ZoëThe house was empty. Zoë knew as soon as she walked through the frontZoë waved her on with mock impatience. "Get outta here." Her voice was meant tosound jolly but, I don't want to hear about your shitty new school, she thought. Idon't want to hear about your stupid date, and I don't want to go home.It won't work. It's not magic, Zoë told herself as she entered the store. Just'cause you're not there to hear of it, doesn't mean it can't happen. Nevertheless,it felt better to put off going home for now. She headed straight for the windowdisplay, but the intriguing title turned out to be merely a cookbook. She lookedaround for half an hour anyhow, until screaming sirens pulling up outside broughther and the other browsers to the front of the store.She panicked for a moment. Lorraine. But, of course, Lorraine was long gone. HowZoë hated sirens. They howled to the scene of an emergency like ravenous bansheesand left behind emptiness.A bald man came pushing into the store, white-faced, babbling with shock. "Theyfound a body in the alley. Briggs at the pharmacy found it," he announced to noone in particular.The smart blond woman who ran the bookstore sat down heavily in her seat behindthe sales counter. "What?""Briggs was leaving work," the man continued. "He had his bicycle in the alley. Healmost fell over the woman. Her throat is slashed."People looked at each other, dumbfounded. "Another one," someone whispered. Zoëremembered seeing the bald man stocking shelves at the grocery store.More people gathered outside-late shoppers, people going home, others going outfor the night. Drawn like flies to blood, Zoë thought, and shuddered. She had toget home.She squeezed past the bald man and went out the door. The bell above the door rangwith cheery dissonance. A couple moved to let her out. She found herself next to ahastily erected police barrier, just in time to see something under a sheet beingloaded into an ambulance."Must have happened recently," she heard a woman say in hushed tones.She felt hot and ill. "Excuse me. Excuse me." She had to get home. She navigated

the crush of the still-forming crowd on the narrow sidewalk. "Excuse me. Excuseme." Where did they come from? Flies. She was sweating. She felt trapped. Peoplejostled to keep their vantage point as she tried to get by.Then she was past them into the night, leaning against the window of the grocerystore, eyes closed, gasping deep, ragged breaths.And a cold, soothing hand was stroking her forehead, cooling, comforting."It's death," came a whisper.Her eyes shot open.6 SimonHe saw the dark-haired girl push herself from the crowd as if drowning, and leanagainst the shopwindow, gasping for air. He went to her helplessly, drawn by herfear. He couldn't help but touch her to taste it."It's death," he told her, wanting to explain.Her eyes burst open, pinning him with a stricken look."It's death that frightens you so."He felt slightly afraid himself now. This was the second time her eyes had heldhim. Combined with the enticing smell of fear, it was almost more than he couldbear."Yes," she said, blinking, relaxing, breaking the spell.His hand left her and fell to twist nervously at a shiny stud on his leatherjacket. "I'm sorry. I'm always startling you." He didn't want to break theconnection, not yet. It unnerved him when her eyes caught him like that, but itbrought something else he couldn't explain, something that didn't seem normal forhim. He wanted it again. He wanted to discover what it was."How did you know? About death, I mean." She had accepted his apology."I've seen its effect on people before now."Her eyes grew troubled on his behalf, as she guessed wildly at his tragedy. It wasso easy, Simon thought. He could tell the truth and let her lie for him. She wouldbe too polite to ask outright. She would make it what she wanted it to be. Thetime was right. She needed to jump to another person, away from her fear. But whydid he care so much? She had warm, rich blood, but it wasn't only that. Was it?"I'm sorry," she said. "I haven't been too pleasant either." She smiled faintly.At herself, he guessed."You look shaken. Can I walk you home?" He started to offer his arm, then

remembered it was an outdated custom and stopped.She debated with herself. He saw the brief inward look. "Please," she said. He hadpassed the test.They left the stores and walked slowly, quiet at first. He enjoyed her next tohim. "You are late for dinner," he said finally."No. No one's home."He saw that she immediately regretted having said that. Her lips tightened for amoment. She's calling herself a fool, he thought. It's not a thing to admit to astranger. Reassure. "What a shame. This is the kind of night one likes to go hometo a hot meal." He saw her lips quiver with unbidden amusement. "I said somethingfunny?"She smiled fully now. "I'm sorry, but you don't look ... I mean...well, the wayyou talk. It's not how I would expect someone in a leather jacket to talk."Had he made a mistake? He didn't talk much to people. They were a temptation. Theywere food. One did not talk to food, or learn its speech patterns. It all changedso fast while he remained the same, watching it go by in flashing colors betweenthe night. No. She was smiling. Somehow it pleased her, this discrepancy. It madeher feel more at ease."It was a whim," he said, stroking the leather."It looks good on you."She wishes not to offend me, he thought. He was happy with that. How silly that itmade him happy."Do you live near here?" she asked."Close.""Yes?""It's temporary.""Are your parents looking for a permanent home in Oakwood?""My parents are dead."She looked aghast at her faux pas. Her hand rose partially to her mouth."It's all right. I've been alone a long time." He took her hand and lowered itgently. She was alone, too, he guessed, that was why she cared so much. Her handwas soft and thin; it prickled him sweetly. She tugged her hand back, and he knewshe had felt it too. He disengaged. He would not press.She was quiet again. They walked. Once she looked as if she were almost ready tospeak, ready to tell him something, but she changed her mind. He wished she hadtold him, because he wanted to hear her talk. He wanted to know about her. This isnot my nature, he thought. This is not the beast. But, for that moment, he felt asif the beast were unraveling from him in a fresh wind. He was thinking ofquestions to entice her to speak when they reached her gate. He held it open forher, feeling disappointed that the walk was over.

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sparkledancerita

Klause

reply03 / 22 / 2010

sparkledancerita

Annette Curtis Clause wrote this

reply03 / 22 / 2010

sparkledancerita

Okay, I don't think I made this fact clear... I didn't write this. Anne Curtis did, I believe. Please don't give me any credit. Thanks for reading, you all rule :)

Category:	Uncategorized.
Rating:	(1 Rating)
Upload Date:	06/30/2009
Copyright:	Attribution Non-commercial
Tags:	Fiction vampire Zoe anne curtis klause Fiction vampire Zoe anne curtis klause (fewer)

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