“Reading.” I held up the book for him to see, but his expression never changed. “It’s a book about vampires. I figured that I better bone up since everybody around me seems to be one.”

“Why don’t you take the book and go somewhere else to read?” Jack meant to ask it, but it came off as a demand.

I could’ve argued with him, and I would’ve been perfectly justified in doing so. But it felt like too much work, and the scent of Peter distracted me anyway. Thoughts of him kept lurking in my head, keeping my mind in a fog.

Jack stood just outside the doorway, refusing to step inside. When I slid past him out the door, he finally started to relax a bit.

“What do you have?” Jack touched the book, moving it so he could read the title. Immediately, he let go of the book and rolled his eyes.

“What?” I looked down at the cover, trying to figure out what displeased him. Nondescript leather with the words A Brief History of Vampyres emblazed in the cover. “It’s just a book.”

“It’s Peter’s book,” Jack grumbled.

“Yeah, but you knew that when I was in his room.” I gestured back to the bookcases in his room and gave him a peculiar look. “Just because Peter owns something doesn’t-”

“No, he doesn’t just own it,” Jack corrected me. “He wrote it. That’s his biography.”

“What are you talking about?” I flipped open the book, looking for some mention of the author, but I found something that contradicted Jack. “No, it says right here the author is very old when he wrote this, and the book itself is incredibly old, and Peter isn’t even two-hundred yet.”

“Yeah, he wrote it when he’d been turned for like twenty years, but he didn’t think anyone would think anything of it if they knew how young he was. That’s why it doesn’t mention who he is or how old he is exactly.”

“But…” I tried to think of something to counter it with, but I didn’t even know why it was so important to me that I counter his argument at all.

“Was that the first book you picked up?” Jack narrowed his eyes, and his tone took an entirely different turn.

He was vaguely jealous, but mostly, the whole vampire bonding thing sickened him. My blood, Peter’s blood, they only seemed to exist to drive Jack insane.

I felt the same way he did. I hated that my pulse quickened just at the memory of Peter, or that I was automatically drawn to his book. Any connection to Peter felt like a betrayal, and I couldn’t stand it anymore.

“It’s just a book!”

“Whatever.” Jack shook his head and shut Peter’s bedroom door. When he looked back at me, he wrinkled his nose. “You smell like him.”

“Sorry.”

“Have you eaten today?” He abruptly changed the subject, and he softened. “I can order you a pizza or something.”

“I’m okay,” I shook my head. “I had a bagel earlier.”

“Right.” Jack stood awkwardly in front of me for a moment, and then stepped away from me. “I’m gonna go check on your brother.”

“Good idea. Tell him I say hi.”

He nodded and walked to the end of the hall, into the room I couldn’t go. I was alone in the hall, holding Peter’s book, and I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to read it or not.

Part of me wanted to read it even more now that I knew it was the story of Peter. Anything to get a better understanding of him would be amazing.

The rest of me knew it was a path I didn’t want to go down anymore. After he tried to kill me, a choice had been made, and Peter was no longer an option for me.

While Jack hadn’t requested it, I knew that a shower would fare better with him. I went into his room and discarded the book on his bed before picking out a change of clothes. Getting clean and worrying about Milo’s condition were enough. I would decide what to do about the book later.

The curtains layered the windows so thick the sun never stood a chance. No matter the time of day, darkness shrouded the house. My vision wasn’t as advanced as theirs, so Jack put a night light in the bathroom that adjoined his room.

I heard a rustling, and that must’ve been what awoke me from my sleep. The clock on the nightstand said it was only two in the afternoon, so I couldn’t imagine that anyone would be awake. I hadn’t gone to bed until seven in the morning, and Jack had still been awake playing Xbox.

I rolled back over, burying myself in the thick blankets of Jack’s bed.

When I heard the rustling again, I barely stirred, and decided that it must be the dog. I had overtaken Jack’s room, and it led to some confusion with Matilda. She usually slept at the end of his bed, but he was sleeping on the couch. She couldn’t decide if her loyalties lied more with him or the bed.

“Go to sleep, Matilda,” I muttered.

I was awake enough where I felt the movement. It wasn’t actually a rustling that had woken me, because the motion was nearly soundless. But there was something – almost like an electric breeze – moving about the room.

Someone was in the room with me. There was silence and a shadowy presence that I couldn’t explain.

“Matilda?” I whispered.

By now, I knew it wasn’t her, but I wanted to play along. My heart raced, but I wasn’t sure if Jack would notice that if he were asleep.

I sat up, my eyes searching the darkness. I hoped to see her massive white shape lurking somewhere, but the night light from the bathroom cast little light. Then I saw a glimpse of a shadow rush in front of it.