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up from being wet for so long.
    Christian hadn’t been vampire long enough yet to forget the horrors of influenza, and if he had any chance of making amends for the atrocities of his life, he had to keep this girl healthy.
    When he returned to the front room, he found Lana curled around herself in front of the fire, shivering hard enough to make her teeth chatter. He made a big deal of letting the door bounce against the wall to signal his reentry. To sneak up on her would do no good.
    “It isn’t much, but at least you can be dry,” he said. She turned her face toward him, and immediately let out a small gasp of surprise.
    “You…you still have snow in your hair,” she whispered. Christian ran a hand along the top of his ruined Mohawk, not surprised when it came away with tufts of white powder stuck to it.
    “So I do… just one of the many drawbacks of no longer being a fully functioning human,” he replied, and started forward. She skittered backward, her face frightened, until her back hit the wall. She let out a squeak, and he stopped just behind the sofa. “I swear I won’t hurt you, Lana. Please take the clothes and go change.” He laid them on the arm of the sofa and slowly began to back away. “The bathroom is down the hall on the left.” She made no move to do as he said, “I will be in the kitchen. I will make you a cup of tea while you change, and then we can talk.”

Chapter Three
     
    While Christian was banging around in the kitchen, Lana picked up the clothes and scurried down the hall. With the bathroom door securely closed and locked, she turned on the light and stared into the mirror at her reflection.
    She looked awful. Her hair had long since been pulled free of its ponytail to hang in stringy waves along her cheeks. Dark circles were beginning to appear under her eyes. Her skin was pale and waxy. She still shivered beneath her wet clothes.
    The cold, she realized, was all she felt. With everything that had happened in the last two hours, Lana discovered that a curious numbness existed within her. Each thing seemed to happen in slow motion and with startling clarity, yet she could muster no emotion for anything…except Christian. He terrified her.
    Lana looked down at the T-shirt and shorts lying on the sink. They were clean, at least—a bit big for her, but they would do until her clothes dried and she could be on her way. She glanced behind her to check the lock on the door—still locked—then stripped out of her coat, shirt, and pants. The wet material peeled away from her body like the skin of an apple, landing on the tile floor with a squishy plop . Even her bra and panties were soaking wet, so she removed those as well, then quickly climbed into the dry clothes. She had to roll the shorts up at her waist to keep them on her narrow hips, but the dry fabric was a welcome relief and helped to quell the shivers coursing up and down her spine.
    She heard a kettle whistle at the other end of the house, and though the idea of being alone in a room with a vampire—was he really serious about that, or was he just messing with her head?—terrified her, the thought of hot tea and a possible meal drove her through the door and back down the hall to the kitchen.
    She found Christian sitting in a chair at the dining table. He had changed clothes as well—a pair of black sweat pants hung low on his hips, and a white undershirt molded itself to his body. He was much more well built than she had first imagined…not that she’d had time to imagine those things. The remnants of his wet Mohawk hung in a limp trail along the center of his head, secured in place by a black rubber band at the base of his skull. He sipped from a beer bottle, and a small smile appeared on his face.
    “You could almost pass for vampire yourself, Lana,” he said without turning to her, and lifted the bottle to his lips again. “You are very quiet when you move.”
    “Thanks, I think,” she replied, still lingering