I think about following her. It’s long past dark, and the longer Fleur’s gone, the more anxious I feel. I pace the perimeter of our camp, watching the fire from a distance, listening for the sound of movement in the brush, wondering where she went and what she must be thinking of me right now. Worrying that maybe tonight, she’s the one with regrets.
When I catch the first sweet whiff of lilies, I’m overcome with relief. Fleur picks her way toward camp, a limp rabbit dangling in one hand and a pheasant swaying in the other. Julio wrinkles his nose. Doesn’t notice her forced smile or the wet, red rims of her eyes.
“Roots make good snares.” She holds out her kill, ignoring his grimace.
Amber side-eyes him. “You said you were hungry.” She takes the proffered animals and gets to work field dressing the rabbit while Fleur plucks the bird.
I select a few branches to sharpen into skewers. But when I reach to borrow Fleur’s knife, Julio snatches it without a word. He sits close to the fire, watching me as he whittles the tips of the sticks into points.
As night falls, I still feel it, the lingering shadow of distrust, even as the smell of sizzling meat seems to distract their minds from everything else.
The heat of the fire is as good an excuse as any to keep my distance. I hover outside the ring of muted light it casts, watching them from the shadows. Amber, Julio, and Fleur lean close to it, their doubts soothed by its warmth and the smell of the meal it promises, if not entirely forgotten. Julio strums a few songs to pass the time while our dinner cooks. He and Amber argue over who sang them first, whose version was acover, and what year the original came out. A nostalgic smile settles on her lips as she sings all the lyrics by heart.
When the meat’s blackened and sizzling, Julio strips it off his skewer before it has a chance to cool. He passes a steaming chunk of pheasant to Amber.
“That’s hot!” She blows frantically into her cupped hand, gingerly testing a piece before popping the rest into her mouth.
Julio raises an eyebrow, watching her catch the juice with her tongue as it runs down her fingers. “I thought you like to play with fire.”
“Should I assume you like cold showers?”
“I might need one if you keep licking your fingers like that.”
She throws him a look, but their eyes hold a second too long and her cheeks flush red in the firelight. She eats the rest of her meal in silence. When she’s done, she darts a shy glance at Julio and pushes herself to her feet.
“I’m pretty worn out.” She clears her throat, wiping her hands on her jeans. “My leg’s still sore. And we’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow. I was thinking... it might be a good idea if we... you know... recharge for a while.”
“I can come with you.” Fleur starts to get up, but Amber’s gaze slides to Julio.
Julio stops chewing. Amber’s face floods with color. “On second thought, forget I said anything.”
Julio drops his pheasant wing into the fire. He launches to his feet as Amber limps toward one of the tents. “Actually, I’m feeling pretty rough, too,” he says. Amber pauses, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear as she glances at him over her shoulder. “I could join you. In your tent. If you want me to. Strictly for medicinal purposes.”
I can’t hold back a snort. Julio flips me off behind his back.
Amber shrugs. “I mean... I guess that’d be okay. As long as it’s okay with Fleur.” She hooks her thumbs in her pockets, then folds her arms over her chest, waiting. Fleur’s eyes flick to mine over the fire. An uncomfortable silence draws out between us.
So this is it. No one wants to share a tent with the soul-sucking vampire.
I pitch my skewer into the fire, my appetite gone. “It’s okay,” I say with a tight smile, sparing both of us the embarrassment. “Fleur can take the other tent. I’ll sleep out here.”
Fleur’s eyes drop to her skewer, and for a second I wonder if I misread her.
“You’re sure?” Amber asks.
“We’re sure,” Fleur and I say at the same time.
“Good night, then.” Amber ducks into the tent, and Julio follows. Zippers whine and the canvas sides sway as they struggle out of their shoes and jackets in the confined space.
“Your hands are freezing!” Julio hisses.
“This only works if we’re touching! Do you have a better suggestion?” Amber snaps.
“Actually—”
“Don’t answer that.”
“I’m just saying, this would work a lot better if you getinsidethe sleeping bag.”
