Bloodline - Chapter 8: The worst pick-up line

24th November 2016

Being alone only with your thoughts and yourself was extremely dangerous. Speaking to no one was refreshing because I didn't have to put up with their lies or half-truths. I haven't spoken to my aunt in two days except trying to find out when will I be able to attend school again and she answered that in a two weeks or so. And that was basically all we said to each other. There were no unexpected ambushes from her side and I trained in the woods alone. I knew she was watching me practise, I could feel it but neither of us said a word.

So in the evening I decided to visit Rumancek's trailer. I just wanted to know why. Why he didn't tell me? I even prepared a speech which somewhere in the middle turned out to be self-pitying piece of shit so I decided to improvise.

Turned out I wasn't the only visitor there that night.

"And who are you? I've never seen you here before," he spoke loudly so I could hear him clearly. He had smooth voice, expensive clothes and arrogant grin across his lips. Brown hair smoothed back from his face and his green eyes followed curiously my every step.

"One of his friends," I answered and stopped few steps from him.

"He doesn't have friends."

"And what are you then?"

His grin grew wider. "Good question. That's an interesting pair of eyes you have there."

"And that's the worst pick-up line I've ever heard."

He chuckled and let his fingers ran through his hair, then he pulled out of somewhere a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. "I don't do pick-up lines, I don't need to."

And somehow, I believed him. He didn't look like the type who would use one pick-up line after another. He looked like rich boy who was used to getting everything his way. Well, too bad for him. "It's called heterochromia and it causes this. Different colour of each eye."

He breathed out smoke and hummed in agreement. "Interesting."

It was also interesting to watch him. He seemed relaxed, almost amused by my answers. If he was angry or nervous, he was hiding it pretty well. "So, again - who are you?"

I sighed. Persistent. Great. "Abigail."

"Abigail who?"

"Abigail none-of-your-business."

Another chuckle. "I could make you tell me."

"In another lifetime, you-"

"So I hear and see you two get along pretty well," said Peter amusedly as he was walking down the stairs. "Abigail, I see you met my mysterious friend Roman Godfrey."

The person in question raised his eyebrows. "So that was you the other day. A friend of Peter's who thinks I'm mysterious."

"I also asked if you fuck strangers in your car on daily basis but close enough."

"And I think we don't have to cling to details," interfered Peter with a smile and threw a bottle of beer to Roman from a sixpack he was bringing. I shook my head in sign I don't want any and Peter shrugged like he wanted to say your loss. "Want to hang out with us?" With him, every moment, every day was just so easy. He behaved so casually as nothing bad ever happened to him. I would love to learn that from him.

"I'm good, I'll stop by tomorrow."

While walking away, I felt their gazes pierce my back but didn't turn around.

×

"You didn't say she was also interesting and quite pretty," Roman said as he took a sip from the bottle.

"You never asked," answered Peter with a smirk and lit up a cigarette of his own amused how this conversation was turning out.

"How long is she here? She wouldn't tell me shit and I am in a desperate need of new material."

"Not long. A month maybe? I'm not her mother, Roman," chuckled Rumancek,"and I wouldn't certainly bet on this one to be one of your girls."

"And that's the beauty in it."

Peter didn't dare to  guess how much Roman knew about her or if he could feel the difference between normal mortal and supernatural one so he said nothing. He, himself, felt the change in her a bit. When they came back two days ago and he looked for his mother at Wolff's house the scent of strong magic hit him in the face. He got worried so rushing to the house was only logical but he wasn't prepared for the sight; even though it was a short one through the doorframe of their front door it was enough. His mother then told him what happened and he asked why the fuck was she even there. Erika wanted to know if she knew about something that could help Abigail but when they arrived, she was already awake and confused what was going on with her. He felt a bit sorry for her. Everything that happened to her was in such a short period of time, every other person would break too and maybe even earlier than she did.

"You're thinking too loud."

"What?" Peter asked and looked at him. His bottle was almost empty and there were at least four cigarette butts on the ground by his feet.

"You're in love or something?"

"As you said, she's interesting poor little thing."

"And why do you think that?"

"Before she moved in here, she was the only one who survived a car crash. Her parents died."

"Shitty story with even shittier ending but it happens all the time."

"Yeah, that's true."

"Something's feeling off about her though."

"She's a girl. Something is always a little off with them. Wouldn't sweat it so much if I were you, saw her today for the first time, right? Give it some time. I'm sure she will tell you to fuck off at some point."

Roman just stared in the space between the trees and lit up another cigarette. He knew she lied to him. Living his whole life with a liar he recognized the signs. Especially when someone like Olivia Godfrey thought she's a pro and no one can see through her lies. Maybe only thing deadlier than her lies and manipulations - was her love. He felt nothing like that with that girl, Abigail, but he knew she lied to him about something. Maybe he will look up the fateful night of hers, the night of her car crash. Maybe it was nothing, maybe he was just excited to meet someone new in this little town. "Hey, what's her full name?"

Peter started to choke on his beer as the question surprised him. "Uhm, what?"

"What's her full name?"

"Are you changing into a stalker or what? She's Wolff."

"She's related to that crazy Wolff chick? Shit."

×

When I got home that day and looked from my small window, I saw the two of them still sitting in front of Peter's trailer, probably talking. So that was the famous Roman Godfrey, the rich boy. Nothing about him felt new, just another spoiled brat. I saw those back in my town, plenty of them. Greedy for attention, buying shit they didn't need just to prove others they had the money for it. Always the centre of gossips of others, organizing parties at their houses with booze and drugs. Really nothing new.

But I needed to focus on controlling my new powers, not on Roman Godfrey. I had the feeling I would see and hear plenty of him at school.

I couldn't even fucking wait for it.