Well, that didn’t sound too bad, did it? Very unlike someone who was planning on ending a certain someone’s employment. Maybe I’d been booked for another outing, and I’d been panicking over nothing. Robert wasn’t the only vampire in existence; Dignitary had dozens of other clients in need of a decoy.
Robert.I squeezed my eyes shut, my heart aching over the probability that I may never get to spend quality time with that stunning man again. I’d tried convincing myself earlier that I may still get to see him outside of Dignitary, but thanks to Nick, I’d become too much of a realist when it came to romance. Jaded, even.
It was ludicrous to think that a blood-drinking vampire billionaire with a severe sun allergy might bump into me somewhere like the grocery store or park. Embarrassing as it was, I’d even toyed with the idea of showing up at his home unannounced, despite it being desperate and crazy. And what could I say when he opened the door, anyway, that I happened to be in his neighborhood of gazillion-dollar mansions because I had a friend who lived on a cliff nearby? And what if he was already entertaining another woman when I showed? I’d probably die on the spot of humiliation.
I frowned when three bubbles popped up again on Michael’s end.P.S. If you happen to talk to Marlena, it’s best you don’t mention this conversation. Have a good run. x
Well, that was weird. I considered briefly that Michael was trying to do something shady unbeknownst to Marlena, like pressure me to have sex with him to keep my job. I shook my head at the ridiculousness of it. Michael, so kindly in his mannerisms, seemed far from the type—though I supposed the worst predators always did. Still, I didn’t know if he even liked women on a sexual level. Or men for that matter. Maybe he was asexual, not that it was my business either way. I shrugged. Guess I’d get to the bottom of things when I called back.
On the off chance that Liz might come home, I powered my phone down, so that she wouldn’t see any questionable messages on the screen. She didn’t make a habit of touching my phone, but considering either of us could be executed if she learned about the existence of vampires, I figured I couldn’t be too safe. I threaded my house key onto my shoelace, grabbed my trusty can of pepper spray, and sprinted out the door.
15
Ihadn’t lied to Michael when I’d said the trail was close to my place. The entrance was located a few feet behind my apartment complex’s leasing office. It was a nice, smooth track of compact dirt, with each mile marked by a numbered post. I liked using it because I felt safer, plus the air was easier to breathe. Unlike sidewalk running along the street, there was zero chance of being hit by a motorist not paying attention and no car exhaust. Ditto on dirtbags who seemed to think women enjoyed being honked at.
The trail was a single straight line that stretched for miles through the hills, so once I started to feel exhausted all I’d need to do was turn around and go back the way I came. It made running on autopilot easy, which was exactly what my brain I needed. I stretched briefly—much less than I normally would have had the sun not been setting—and entered the trail.
My plan was to get a quick two miles under my belt before turning around, which would make a nice four-mile round-trip. Once I was home, I’d call Michael and then have dinner. After so many months of loafing around unemployed, it felt good to have a set goal, regardless of how minor it was. If I kept it up, I might even develop—gasp—a routine.
The path was about as empty as I’d ever seen it, though I typically didn’t go trail running at sundown; I was more of a mid-day runner. I concentrated on the rhythm of my breathing and the sound of my sneakers pounding the ground as I ran beneath colossal redwoods that lined the trail. As my mind began to unwind, Robert floated to the surface of my thoughts.
How it would feel, I wondered, to go running with him by my side? We’d have to do it in the evening, of course, but the activity wasn’t as important as the normality of it, the humanness. Robert was so flawless and otherworldly that it was hard to imagine him doing something as commonplace as exercise. What was his life like on a daily (or, in his case, nightly) basis? Did he brush his teeth—fangs—and clips his nails? Did he even need to? Did he ever get bored, binge-watch TV, or have FOMO?
Unfortunately, such speculations were pointless, since it didn’t seem likely that I’d ever get to ask him all the questions I had. But that was the contradictory nature of life, wasn’t it? There had been a time when I would have given almost anything to speak with Nick for a few minutes, yet I wanted him to go away now that he’d been calling. And Robert? I’d been terrified of the vampire when we’d first met and had believed he was colossal jerk, but now I was dying to see him again, touch his icy flesh. Almost painfully so.
I was so lost in my head that I was at the two-mile mark before I knew it. It had been some time since I’d gone for a run, and my neglected muscles twitched beneath my skin, pleading for prolonged activity. I stopped for a moment and jogged in place. Would it be so bad if I went a little farther?
If I kept going, I’d feel better. However, there was a strong possibility that I’d spend the return portion of the run in partial darkness, since the sun was swiftly fading and the trail lights were staggered and dim. Having no desire to break my ankle, I evaluated the state of the path. It hadn’t stormed in weeks, so hardly any debris was present, barring the occasional twig. If I didn’t stray from the trail, I’d be fine.
I labored on, basking in precious, hushed solitude. In a big city like San Francisco, it was rare to truly be on my own in quietness. There was always some kind of disruption, whether it be a car alarm going off, a neighbor playing the television too loud, or somebody yapping on the phone. You never really understand how chaotic the world is until you’re immersed in stillness. I was glad I’d left my phone behind.
Absorbed in my thoughts of mostly Robert, but also Nick’s pestering and Marlena’s earlier ass chewing, I jogged on. My body felt great, and I was on fire, in the zone. I probably would have kept running all night, had a squirrel not scurried across the path in front of me, breaking me out of my trance. As if I’d suddenly plunged to earth from outer space, I became acutely alert of my surroundings, which I should have been paying attention to all along.
I looked behind my shoulder and squinted at the trail marker I’d just passed. I’d gone a little over four miles, and now the sky was almost black. How could that be? It felt as if I’d only just started. Dumbfounded by my inattention, I turned on my heel and began the jog back. My muscles would be hurting tomorrow after running eight miles roundtrip, I had no doubt.
My solitude morphing into something sinister, I gripped the pepper spray in my sweaty grip, hideously aware that there wasn’t another living soul on the trail in either direction. At least not that I saw. How could I have been so absentminded? One of Liz’s idioms came to mind:This, my friend, is what happens when a smart person does a dumb thing.Stupid, stupid. I knew better.
Such reckless behavior wasn’t like me. Honestly. I’d always thought of myself as a bit of a goody two-shoes. In high school, I’d stayed home and studied while my classmates went out, got drunk, and had unprotected sex. At Dewhurst, it had been pretty much the same. I was the girl who handwashed delicate clothes, drove the speed limit, got drunk of a single glass of wine, and never flirted with other men when I had a boyfriend. I hated loud nightclubs and events like wet T-shirt contests. Snoozefest, right?
But recently? I’d taken a job with vampires and had apparently developed a penchant for jogging alone in the dark. And don’t forget the brooding immortal Robert Bramson, who I was certain was the only man for me despite him being unattainable. What was going on with me?
I picked up the pace. My legs, unaccustomed to running so many miles on end, soon ran out of steam. I was thirsty, too, and the joints in my knees were starting to ache.I reduced my stride, hoping to regenerate some energy. I knew my body better than that, though. I’d hit the dreaded runner’s wall.
My footsteps, which I’d found comfort in earlier, sounded like thunderous booms broadcasting to every axe murderer within a fifty-mile radius that an exhausted woman was on her own on a dark trail, where nobody was around to hear her screams. It occurred to me, then, that I hadn’t sent a text to Liz to tell her that I was going jogging. I’d assumed it would take an hour maximum, but that had been before I’d idiotically run four miles before stopping to turn around. If some axe-wielding maniacdidjump out from behind the trees and hack me up into a million pieces, it was very likely I’d never be found.
Stop it, Olivia. You’re only going to panic yourself.Fine. Maybe a little panic would do me some good and make me think twice before doing something else reckless in the future.
A twig cracked behind me, and I nearly gave myself whiplash whirling around to listen. I held my breath and waited for my psycho killer friend to make an appearance. Thankfully, none showed.
I limp-walked faster, enveloped in darkness as I traveled between one trail light to the next. As I neared a new mile marker—just five miles left—another twig snapped, then another. The snapping was getting louder . . . which meant closer. There was also rustling in the trees.
I paused to listen. The movement stopped the moment I did. “H-hello? Is there somebody there?” I received no answer, which was both terrifying and reassuring.
My joints screaming in protest as I broke into a hitching run. The noise from the trees started up again. I wheeled around, keyed up on terror. “If somebody is out there, you need to make yourself known!”
Though I’d failed miserably, I’d tried to sound nonchalant, as if the person hiding in the woods and I were having a misunderstanding.Oh, you didn’t realize that it’s socially unacceptable to hide behind trees and spy on women running on isolated trails? No worries, now you know for next time! I’ll just be on my way, you silly weirdo.
Eyes trained on the hazy silhouette of trees at the edge of the trail, I took a step forward. I cocked my head and listened. Was that . . .whispering? Another twig snapped.
