Azi
Okay. I will admit it.
I was wrong.
I came here, under the basic assumption that Angela Marks was my ticket home. I would get her to fall in love with me, spill a little blood, preform some rituals and leave.
The files my "connection" at the government had given me obviously were not comprehensive. I had gotten her name, address, what I took to be confirmation of what I was positive of.
Not once had the girl been mentioned.
Rayne. I must call her Rayne now.
I could recall my shock as I stepped quietly onto her driveway, expecting that it was Angela home from a day of work. I must have frightened her.
She had certainly frightened me. No, frightened wasn't the word.
Shocked, stunned. Those fit better the feeling that fried my synapses as I looked down on the medium height whirlwind of blowing brown hair and wintery skin.
The instant I saw her - really saw her - I knew.
Knew that everything I had assumed was wrong, because of this . . . girl.
And then, she had invited me in. I had seen her mother. She paled in comparison with her daughter. Her soul a slate gray against her daughter's pristine white.
The plan wouldn't have to change. It was easier this way; when I'd chosen this form, Angela had been a much younger woman. Clean. But it had taken me years to arrive, cross my life with her's, and this form would have no longer been adequate. However, it was obvious, almost immediately, that the daughter was just as attracted to me as her mother before her would have been.
I hadn't expected things to be so obvious. As she went to set up the bed I would be sleeping on, I excused myself from her mother's lecture and followed her. I heard her swear as she injured herself on the bed.
She tripped over the door-jam and fell onto me.
Any doubts I had about her were gone the moment her blood touched my skin. She was the one I had to look out for . . . To keep alive at all costs, until it suited me otherwise. She was my way home.
And yet, I thought of her as more. I might actually enjoy pursuing a relationship with her, now that I was no longer immortally bound to Abbie. It might be . . . what was the word . . . fun.
If I had known what was to happen in the coming months, I would have returned to Abbie, tail between my legs.
But I did not.
And so, the story continued.
