Aurora Sky Vampire Hunter - By Nikki Jefford Page 0,49

chuckled and kissed me on the head, managing to avoid the bruise.

Mom woke me gently at six thirty. I showered in under five minutes, combed my hair, blew it dry, and put on a fresh change of clothes. I waited to wrap the scarf around my neck until I'd finished getting ready. My neck ached where I'd been bitten.

I sat on top of the couch's back in the front parlor, just staring out the window until I saw two headlights beam into our driveway. I jumped to my feet and opened the door before Fane had a chance to knock. He stood outside holding a bouquet of assorted flowers and a bottle of red wine.

"Thank you," I said as he handed me the flowers. "Please come in."

Fane was dressed in his usual head to toe black.

I led him into the kitchen. "Mom, I'd like you to meet Fane."

Mom's mouth hung open. She looked at the dyed hair on his temples rather than his eyes. Then her head twisted abruptly when she saw the flowers in my hand.

Her alarm was quickly covered by a forced smile. "Nice to meet you, Fane."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Sky. Thank you for having me over." Fane walked into the kitchen and set the bottle of wine on the counter. "I brought this for you. I hope you drink red."

Actually, mom drank brown - as in soda. She'd never been much for wine. And what was a teenager doing bringing over a bottle of wine? It's not like Fane lived at home and could raid his parents' wine cabinet.

"Thanks," Mom said slowly.

I opened one of the bottom cabinets and rooted around for an empty vase for the flowers. When I found it, I filled it with a bit of water and set them in the center of the dinner table.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Fane asked my mom.

"No, I've got everything under control. ...Thanks."

"Come on," I said, taking his hand. "We can hang out in my room until dinner's ready."

"Actually, Aurora, I need you to make a salad."

When my mom wasn't looking Fane winked at me. His smile made me want to drag him to my room and kiss him senseless.

"Sure, Mom," I said in an upbeat voice.

After fifteen minutes of Mom never leaving me alone with Fane, we sat down to dinner.

Fane dished up salad and passed on pot roast. "Smells wonderful, Mrs. Sky, but I don't eat meat."

Fane was losing big points with my mom. The way she looked at him, you'd think he'd just confessed to being a meth head. Mom helped herself to the roast and ate in silence. It wasn't like her to forgo conversation with a dinner guest. After a few minutes, she asked how Fane and I knew one another.

"Gym class," I said and scrunched up my nose. "I suppose it was our mutual loathing for physical education that drew us together."

Fane smiled. "Gym isn't so tough. I just sit back and watch the game."

I leaned back in my chair and smiled at my mom. "Fane's more of a spectator."

Mom's lips tightened.

I grinned wider when I glanced back at Fane. "But I suspect he's a closet athlete. You should have seen the way he pummeled his opponents the time he participated in badminton."

Fane shrugged. "I've played a game or two of badminton in my day."

He pushed the salad around on his plate. Watching him eat, or rather not eat, was like staring into a mirror of what I was like at the table. I felt so connected to this boy. I was glad he was there. I wished he could stay the night, and I didn't even mean that in a sexual way. I just felt better when he was nearby.

At the end of the meal, Fane helped clear the table and began washing the dishes.

Mom snatched a plate from him. "Don't worry about it. I'll take care of those."

I didn't like the way Mom looked at Fane, like he was trying to rifle through her china cabinet.

"Mom, we've got it," I said. "You cooked."

Okay, so usually I let her do both, but seeing Fane up to his elbows in soapy water looked so adorably domestic that I wanted to shoo my mom out and join him at the sink. She hesitated before retreating into the living room. The TV came on, turned at a low 'I can still hear you' volume. I grabbed a green terry kitchen towel and sat on the