Survivor - By Kaye Draper Page 0,20

growing things. Bright green grass, muted green moss growing on a rock, green leaves dancing overhead, green birds twittering in the branches of the trees, a deep green sea of wild grasses where I lay down and watched an iridescent green butterfly dance across the sky as soft tendrils of grass caressed my cheek.

I woke up to deep green eyes the color of emeralds. Peter smiled down at me, his graceful fingers caressing my cheek. “I brought you breakfast.” I stretched and grinned back. Making my way out of the bathroom a while later, I found orange juice and a breakfast sandwich waiting for me. The little deli down the street makes amazing breakfast biscuits, but I can never manage get there in the morning and get to work on time.

Peter looked at me in surprise when I wheeled past the table and turned on the computer. I blushed self-consciously under his silent questioning gaze. I never shared my writing with anyone. It was for me. And I had never written with company- it always felt very private. But I had to get my dream into words before the feeling of it left me.

Peter brought me the orange juice and I sipped it while I waited for the computer to start up. When I started to peck at the keyboard, he looked over my shoulder curiously. I gave him a warning look and he backed off. His eyes had a hint of silver to them-probably thanks to the intense emotions I had been putting off since he woke me.

He paced to my bookshelf and took down one of the thick binders where I store my writing. Plopping down on the sofa, he lifted it questioningly, “May I?”

I frowned. “How did you know about that?”

He grinned slyly, “You kept glancing up there while you were picking at that keyboard.”

I frowned. I must have been unconsciously thinking that the poem about his eyes belonged up there- with the important ones.

Peter flipped through my work as I typed. Motor control is not my strong point, so of course typing is slow, but it’s better than hand writing things.

Finally, Peter stood and took down another binder. “I need to go to work,” he said, gathering his things. “Can I take these?” He had several pounds of my writing tucked under his arm.

“Why?”

He dropped a kiss on my forehead. “Because they’re really good; I want to read them tonight.”

I shrugged. “Fine,” I said, a bit fearful of what he might find in there. “Oh, hang on.” I hit print, then handed him the newest addition to the binder. “This is what I was dreaming of when you woke me up.”

He tucked it into his breast pocket to read later and I smiled hesitantly, wondering what his face would look like when he figured out it was about him. My smile faded as a sliver of apprehension worked its way in. Every since my accident, I felt that if something good happened, then something bad must surely follow. I crushed the nagging voice that wondered if I had the right to be happy, and went to see Peter out.

Chapter 7

I started to ask Peter about it, but it was obvious he had already noticed. His posture was a little tense and his eyes were darker, sharper. We left the diner in silence. He pushed my chair so we could move faster.

The little group followed us. If Peter had been alone he could have gotten away, but I was slowing him down. One of them, a pretty blond woman, came alongside us.

“Good afternoon Pete,” she said brightly. “Care for a stroll in the park?” He gave her a dark look. “Sorry Cynthia, but I need to be going.”

There were three men with her. They were all nice looking, graceful like dancers. I was getting a bad feeling about this. “Oh come on Peetie,” one of the men said in a pretty British accent, “it’s a beautiful day.”

They managed to herd us toward the entrance to the riverside park that stretched along the rest of the block. Peter wheeled me over to a stone bench by a bank of purple petunias and bent down to lock both my brakes. He looked into my eyes for a moment. “I need you to stay here, Melody.” He was very intent. “No matter what, just stay here, okay?”

Sit and stay, huh? I frowned at him, but nodded. He stood and went over to the others. Other vampires. They moved off the