he looked down curiously. I looked at the sidewalk, grateful that he didn't seem to be able to know what I was thinking intuitively.
He opened the passenger door, holding it for me as I stepped in, shutting it softly behind me. I watched him walk around the front of the car, amazed, yet again, by how graceful he was. I probably should have been used to that by now—but I wasn't, and perhaps I never would be. I had a feeling Fredward wasn't the kind of person anyone got used to.
I also suspected that he was not actually a person.
Once inside the car, he started the engine and turned the heater on high. It had gotten very cold, and I guessed the good weather was at an end. I was warm in his jacket, though, breathing in the scent of vampire when I thought he couldn't see.
Fredward pulled out through the traffic, apparently without a glance, flipping around to head toward the freeway.
"Now," he said significantly, waving his large ivory hand, "it's your turn."


Chapter 8