Free Her Blood Sings: Episode 01 by Vivian Wolkoff Page B

caramel
bathing his skin, and her breathing tickling his arms.
    He felt her struggle free. It was feeble, but
she wanted to be free of him. Chris dropped his arms. He felt oddly
bereft without her warmth. He told himself he didn't care about
her. A small voice told him that he shouldn't care. He took a step
back and watched her shiver, her eyes trailing to the truck. It had
hit a storefront.
    "I should go there," she whispered.
    "Why?" Chris said. He sounded angrier than he
had the right to be.
    She turned to him, blinking in surprise. "I
have to make sure the driver is OK."
    "Why do you care?"
    "Because he could be hurt," she said,
frowning. "It wouldn't be right to leave him."
    Chris shoved his hands in his hair, his anger
rising. "He almost killed you."
    "He didn't mean to." She shivered and wrapped
her arms around herself, her teeth chattering. "H-H-He...
p-p-probably..."
    "For fuck sakes," Chris muttered. He removed
his heavy, useless coat and draped it around her shoulders. He
rubbed some warmth into her arms. "Why did you leave the café
without your coat?"
    Evie started speaking, but her words trailed
into nothing. She became more alert and her head snapped around,
looking for something. Her heartbeat picked up in her chest. She
was afraid of something - or someone. Chris was this close to try
his luck and try to glamour her again. He had to know who was
scaring her. He had no idea why he needed to know it, but he did.
He heard people leaving the café, taking in the accident.
    Chris growled in frustration. He had to
leave. He couldn't be caught here. How could he possibly explain
what had just happened?
    Evie's friend, Lucy, came out of the café,
carrying a heavy, worn-looking coat. She saw Chris standing next to
Evie and frowned, her eyes drifting to the bay window seat Chris
had been perched on only a minute before. Chris could see the
wheels turning in her head, a million questions coming to the
surface. He cursed under his breath. This was exactly why he had to
leave.
    He crossed the street to Lucy and picked up
the coat from her hands. She was an easy connection.
    "I came out after your friend, understand?"
Chris asked. "Whatever you think you saw, you didn't. You're
mistaken."
    She nodded, a dazed look on her face.
    "I pulled her away at the last possible
second but I was just a patron. You don't know who I am. OK?" Chris
asked.
    She blinked up at him.
    "Answer me, Lucy."
    "Yes," she said.
    "Good," Chris said, sighing in relief. "Now,
be a good girl and call 911."
    She nodded, her hand already drifting to a
pocket in her apron.
    He turned around and marched back to Evie.
She had slumped against a parked car, her eyes on him. She was
swimming in his coat, the sleeves longer than her arms. At least
she looked warmer. She saw the coat in his hands and her lips
tugged down in disappointment. Chris handed her the coat and
watched as she shrugged out of his coat and handed it to him. He
put his coat on and paused. It smelled like her. He might never
take it off again.
    He heard the sirens of ambulances and police
cars in the distance.
    "I have to go," he said.
    "What?" she asked, snapping away from her
spot. "But the police-"
    "I can't talk to the police." Chris could see
a million questions on her face. He snapped at that. "Don't make me
regret saving you, Evie."
    She staggered back a step, her lips parting
as she gasped.
    Chris felt bad about that, but he couldn't
get involved.
    "A patron, someone you'd never seen before,
pulled you out and then walked away," he said. "It's the truth.
Nothing I can say will change that."
    She nodded, not meeting his eyes.
    Chris stood there for a moment, feeling
conflicted. Part of him wished he could take back what he said, but
another part knew he was doing the right thing. He had to think of
his clan. People started rushing to Evie, regulars at the café and
coworkers. No one spared him a glance. Chris sighed in frustration
and turned to walk away. Each step was a struggle.