Chapter 31
With Jorick gone, Katelina hurried to lock the door. Secure, she flipped on the light. Her eyes roamed the room and she suddenly wondered how Jorick paid for all of the motel rooms? Did he have a wad of cash stuffed in his pockets? Or maybe he had a book of traveler's checks? She snickered at her own ridiculous thoughts; a vampire with traveler's checks!
She shook her head in amusement, then made her way across the 70's style carpeting. Her feet stopped next to the heap of white material. For a moment she imagined picking the dress up, to see if what she remembered was true, but she resisted. She didn't really want to know.
The bathroom was a normal motel bathroom, small and functional. The mirror above the chipped blue sink showed a reflection she hardly recognized: large blue eyes with black rings stared back at her from a pale, haggard face that was framed in tousled blonde hair.
She examined the new mark on her neck, just above her collar bone. It was still pink, but already tightly closed. Closer inspection revealed that it was a perfect set of bite marks with a very small cross cut directly beneath them - evidently Jorick's symbol.
The only thing she could think as she stared at it was fantastic. This was just what she needed. It was going to be hard to explain to people later. Then again, she reminded herself, who would she have to explain it to? Sarah was dead and her mother would assume it was something to do with Patrick.
That was really kind of ironic, when she thought about it. Technically, it was something to do with Patrick, depending on how she looked at it. But thinking about Patrick - particularly after what she'd been through last night - made her feel weird. She banished the thoughts and forced herself to check her shoulder over, even though the wound was almost healed.
When she was done, she cinched the towel tight and headed back into the room. She sat carefully on the edge of the bed, with her knees pressed tightly together, and flipped the TV on to drown out the silence. She was half way through a bad cartoon when Jorick knocked on the door and called to her.
She checked that the towel covered all her important bits, then she hurried to the door and unbolted the locks.
Jorick strode in carrying a soda cup and two sacks; one from a fast food place and the other bearing the familiar yellow smiley face of a national chain store - guaranteed happiness in a bag.
"I didn't know what you wanted," he commented as he set the drink on the nightstand and deposited the bags on the bed. The crinkle of plastic and paper was a delicious sound to Katelina's ears.
She meant to dress first, but the smell of food was overwhelming. She decided her towel was good enough and sat primly on the edge of the bed, her knees together and the paper bag in her lap. As she ate, Jorick perched on the other corner of the bed and stared at the TV. He chanced a glance towards her but his nose wrinkled involuntarily, and he looked away again.
She licked the salt from her fingers with delight. The empty bag was soon wadded up and thrown in the garbage can, forsaken for the plastic sack. Jorick had gotten her a pair of jeans and a t-shirt with Tweety bird across the chest. Even odder was a package of flowered panties. She imagined him in the underwear section trying to decide on a style, and had to physically bite her lip to keep from laughing.
Aside from those items there was a pink flannel nightgown that was going to be more comfortable than form flattering, a hairbrush, a stick of deodorant and a bottle of blue nail polish.
She held the tiny glass bottle in her hand and looked at his back questioningly. Without turning around he murmured, "I noticed you liked it." He made an attempt at a casual shrug that came off slightly stiff.
She bit the inside of her lip and narrowed her eyes. How did he know - but the thought ended mid-sentence when she recalled his admission of "keeping an eye on her". She'd tried to pretend that it meant a very causal observation, though she knew better. This completely ruined her illusions.
The familiar anger returned, and she sarcastically wondered if he'd seen her naked back then. Maybe that was why he was acting like it was no big deal today. Automatically, she gripped the bottle with a white knuckled hand and opened her mouth to reprimand him - then stopped. Undoubtedly, he'd tried to be nice in his own twisted way. If she thought about it, he'd been nothing but kind since last night's horrors. She couldn't imagine him sporadically doing something to ruin that. Still, the idea that he'd spied on her left her uncomfortable. She dreaded it, but one day they were going to have to discuss it.
Avoiding the subject now, she walked silently to the bathroom. Once she was in the new clothes her anger was replaced by a warm rush of gratitude.
When she'd composed herself, she emerged from the bathroom to find Jorick lying on the bed, his hands beneath his head and his eyes glued to re-runs of Yogi Bear. She settled on the bed next to him with her legs crossed and cracked open the bottle of nail polish.
By the time one hand was finished she felt nearly restored. Nothing bad could happen so long as the sharp, chemical smell of nail polish was biting her nose. She couldn't help but think, for a moment, how strange the things were that people clung to; the odd little bits that meant safety and comfort to them.
Pushing off the strange thoughts she turned to Jorick and kept her voice casual. "So, what are we doing now?"
"Going to New Hampshire." A smile flickered across his face at the animated Yogi and his attempts to trick the Ranger. "This is actually quite amusing."
"New Hampshire? Isn't that a little far? How long will it take to get there?" Her world might be shattered and her life irrevocably changed, but she wanted to stay near her home - or what had been her home.
"A night, maybe." His words were interrupted by laughter, his dark eyes still riveted to the television screen. "We're closer than you think," he added.
She tried to keep her growing unhappiness out of her voice, but couldn't stop the sarcastic comment from slipping out. "Evidently." She went back to her nail polish, the brush painting each nail blue; painting over everything bad that had happened; painting over all of her anger. "Why New Hampshire?"
"Because that's where we need to go," he broke off as Boo Boo the bear protested against stealing picnic baskets. "Have you seen this before? It's really funny for television."
"Yes," she snapped impatiently. "It was made before I was born." She glared at him, but he seemed undeterred. "Is New Hampshire where Arowenia is?"
"It's where we're going."
She growled in frustration. Why couldn't he ever give her a straight answer? His excuses about Claudius getting a hold of her sounded feeble at best, and she wanted the truth for once. "Why won't you tell me what's going on?"
