My leaving decided him. He went back to being a doctor again, surely as closing a door. He stood a little straighter and nodded at me. “Have a safe trip home, Nurse Spence. ”
CHAPTER NINE
I took the train all the way to my parents’ house. Not the same train—they lived in the nicer part of town, off a different line—but it only took about thirty minutes. I got off at their stop, and it would still be a walk to their place, then—
I looked down. I was wearing the same outfit I’d worn at the clinic. When I’d been seeing patients. Frank, in particular. I may be immune to everything this side of TB, but my immunocompromised mother was not. There were germs all over my clothes. Shit.
I stood at the station—probably the safest in the city, as my folks lived in a gentrified zone—and called her.
“Edie—are you coming by?”
“Tomorrow. ” I told her who I’d seen today, and where I was. She was disappointed, but also amused.
“Weren’t you just working at the sleep place?”
“It got boring. ”
She laughed. God, I loved to hear her laugh. “Well, I’m sure you’re doing the Lord’s work, wherever you are. ”
Yeah, about that. Actually, Mom, I’m there because I’m trying to find a sympathetic supernatural creature to save your ass. Too late to argue now. Plus, I loved her. “Can we do dinner again tomorrow? Don’t cook. I’ll bring food in. ”
“That sounds lovely. We’ll expect you tomorrow night. ”
“Give me till seven thirty so I can go home and take a shower first. ”
She said, “See you then, dear,” and hung up.
Still feeling foolish, I swiped my card to get back up to the train.
* * *
By the time I stopped off for takeout and took the train back, it was almost eight o’clock. I set the food down as soon as I got home and shooed Minnie off when she got too close. I didn’t think I needed to take a shower before dinner—I was starving, my PB&J had been a while ago—but a change of clothes and washing any exposed skin would be nice.
I was running a washcloth over my arms and feeling silly for not just showering already when the doorbell rang.
It was eight o’clock at night. And to say I didn’t typically have visitors would be an understatement. No one knew where I lived now, except for my family. Goddammit, if it was Jake … well. Maybe it would be good for us to talk about Mom.
I set the washcloth down and came out to look through the peephole.
&
nbsp; “Hey, Edie,” said a familiar voice as I looked through. He must have heard me lean against the door.
Ti. My zombie boyfriend from last fall.
All the stomach acid that had drenched my stomach at the thought of my brother visiting shifted slightly, continuing to rise. I could ignore him, like he’d ignored me for going on seven months now. Being forgotten had hurt.
“Edie,” he said from behind the door, his voice dropping.
“Can’t help but think of the last time we met like this,” I said quietly, from my side of the door. We’d been going to a trial then, and he’d been wearing half of someone else—a part of their face, and their arm.
“I’m all me this time, though. ”
I opened the door up just a crack and whispered, “Where have you been?” I kept my face hidden by the door.
“Around. You were kind of hard to find, once you moved. ”
“And no one told you I was being shunned?”
“Do you think I care what any vampire says?”
This apartment unit, unlike my last one, was on the second floor. My porch light made him cast a shadow on the wall beside my door. His skin wasn’t much lighter than his shadow, a dark even black, though his eyes were the color of amber hidden from the sun. The last time I’d seen him, he’d been recovering from injuries received as a fireman inside a burning house, and his skin hadn’t healed back all the way. Now he was whole, the rippling scars were gone, and his hair had grown back, tightly clipped against his scalp.
He put his hand on the partially open door. “Can we talk?”
I looked up at him, at the face I’d kissed once, even when it hadn’t been all his. He’d risked his life for me. He was still that same man. I nodded.
“Indoors?” he asked gently, not teasing in the least.
I took a step backward and let him in.