The Chosen by L. J. Smith

Author:L. J. Smith [Smith, L. J.]
Language: inh
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, General, Fiction, Vampires, Horror & Ghost Stories, United States, People & Places, Horror Stories
ISBN: 9780671551377
Google: j3QHAAAACAAJ
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 1997-02-14T23:00:00+00:00

It was Sunday night and they were nearing the parking lot of the Crypt.

"I've told you and told you," Daphne said. "I'm ready. I can do it."

"Okay. But, listen, if there's any trouble, I want you to run. Run away from the club and don't look back for me. All right?"

Daphne nodded. At Rashel's suggestion, she was wearing something more sensible tonight: black pants heavy enough to provide some warmth, a dark sweater, and shoes she could run in. Rashel was dressed the same way, except that she was wearing high boots. The knife was in one.

"You go first," Rashel said, parking a street away from the club. "I'll come in a minute."

She watched Daphne walk away, hoping she wasn't going to get this little blond bunny killed.

She herself was the danger. Quinn was going to use mind control on them to get them to go to the warehouse quietly. And Rashel wasn't sure what would happen when he did it.

Just don't let him touch you, she told herself. You can carry it off as long as he doesn't touch you.

Five minutes later, she started toward the Crypt.

Quinn was in the dark parking lot, standing by a silvery-gray Lexus. As Rashel reached the car, she saw the pale blob of Daphne's face through the window.

"I almost thought you weren't coming." There was now a sort of savagery mixed in with Quinn's lunatic good humor. As if he was angry she wasn't smart enough to save herself.

"Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world." Rashel kept her eyes on the car. She wanted to get this over with. "Are we going somewhere?"

There was that tiny hesitation that seemed to come every time she spoke to him, as if it were taking him a minute to focus. Or as if he were trying to figure something out, she thought nervously.

Then he answered smoothly, "Oh, right, get in."

Rashel got in. She glanced once at Daphne in the back seat. Daphne said, "What's up?" in a chirpy voice laced with feminine rivalry.

Good girl.

Quinn was getting in the driver's side. Once the door was shut, he turned the engine on to run the heater. The windows immediately began to fog.

Rashel sat in a state of continuing mind, ready for the unexpected at any moment.

Only the unexpected didn't come. Nothing came. Quinn was just sitting there in the driver's seat.

Watching her.

With a sudden void in her stomach that threatened her zanshin, Rashel realized that it was too dark. Too familiar. They were sitting here together in silence, so close, visible to each other only in silhouette, just as they had in the cellar. She could almost feel Quinn's confusion as he tried to figure out what was bothering him.

And Rashel was afraid to say anything, afraid that her chirpiest voice wouldn't be a good-enough disguise. The horrible feeling of connection was mounting, like some giant green wave looming over them both. In a moment it would break, and Quinn would say, "I know you," and switch on the light to see the face without the veil.

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