After dinner and ice cream, my aunt suggested we stay up and talk. But suspecting it was code for her wanting to discuss my parents, I claimed to be tired and we both went up to our separate bedrooms. But there was also something else on my mind, something that their death had, in a way, driven me to do – a recklessness I might never escape, a self-punishment I felt I deserved.

I shut the door and went to the nightstand. I picked up my calendar and looked at the date I'd circled when my things had arrived, the one I'd reserved for the warehouse. "Tonight," I whispered. "Let's see if it is haunted."

I opened the small drawer and took out the flashlight and a recorder and went to place them on top of the dresser. I removed my house key from my pants' pocket and set it next to them, a prevention against being locked out, because it was a one in a million chance that Rhys would be up late and see me again. Once I had everything I'd need for my ghost hunt at the warehouse laid out, I went to lie down to take a nap, without changing clothes.

I shut my eyes, but I couldn't go to sleep. My imagination took my mind hostage, and thoughts churned with what I might find once I was in there. Ghosts, maybe even people who were up to no good, thinking they'd found the perfect place to go and do whatever they couldn't where everyone could see them – or, nothing but an empty shell of an old building.

Shifting restlessly, I glanced at my clock. Ten o'clock – it was time to go.

Pushing aside any last minute doubts, I got up and slipped on my sneakers. I went to the dresser and collected my house key, recorder, and the flashlight. Then, as quietly as I could, I opened my bedroom door. The house was dark and quiet. I stepped out and quietly closed it behind me. I crept down the stairwell to the front door and carefully unbolted it, went outside, and slowly turned the lock to cut down on the sound of it being set again. Feeling free, I went to the sidewalk, and with a fast look behind me, I hurried down my street and turned right.

Entering the dead end, I eyed Cortland Bridge warily as I took the center path to the warehouse. While my curiosity about the paranormal elements inside the old bridge hadn't lessened, I wouldn't be returning right away. Not because of the French guy's warning. It was because of the inexplicable happenings I'd encountered from before. Before I went back to see what exactly was inside the old covered bridge, I'd need more experience with the supernatural – which I could get at the warehouse ... if it really was haunted.

Not being much of a runner, it took a while to get there. When I finally arrived, I took a moment to catch my breath as I scrutinized the old, abandoned mammoth.

Neglected and left to rot, the huge building appeared to be decayed from the ground up. Patches of rust, spider webs and cobwebs dotted it everywhere ... and that was just on the outside. My bet was that it was equally wrecked, if not worse, on the inside, too.

Stopping myself from the burgeoning questions I was starting to have about being there, alone, I murmured, "I'm here for one thing – to conquer the unknown ... if the unknown doesn't conquer me first."

I turned on the flashlight. Feeling like a trespasser, I grasped the roughened doorknob and twisted it. There was a brief hesitation – it clicked and gave way with no more difficulty. Starting to pull the door open and go inside, I was startled by a soft French accent behind me. "It could be dangerous in there."

Feeling more irritated than threatened, I turned. "To know that, I'd have to go inside."

The French guy looked surprised. "Alone?"

"Unless you have any other suggestions, then, yes."

"I can come with you."

His offer was unexpected. "No. I don't know you or your name, and not that it's a shocker anymore, but it can't be some sort of coincidence that everywhere I go at night lately, I run into you. Explain that."

"I followed you once before. You did not seem in favor of it."

A little creeped out by his answer, but determined not to show it, I squared my shoulders and looked directly at him. "I wasn't 'in favor'. Is that why you're here now – following again?"

"No." He paused a moment. "I read your mind."

I narrowed my eyes and tightened my grasp on the flashlight. "You what? Listen, I'm here for ..."

"A ghost-hunt."

Momentarily halted by the accuracy of his guess, I challenged, "What makes you think so?"

He gazed up at the warehouse and then looked back at me. "Let me try to guess. A tremendous loss of person or belonging has made you want to come here for an adventure, of sorts. Am I right – because ... why else would anyone be here?"

His uncanny spot-on guess of the truth unnerved me. But refusing to give in to the feeling, I replied, "I thought I was alone. Were you hiding ...?" The structure was immense, too big for him to have been just around the corner, and being hidden would be impossible because nothing was there except the warehouse!

He smiled a little. "No. I have been here. Perhaps you were too preoccupied with going inside to see me. I am Zil. What is your name?"

"Ashe."

"Nice to meet you, Ashe."

Undecided if I shared his opinion, I studied him. His eyes were identical to those in my dream. But despite the kindness in them, or how he stood casually with his hands in his front pants' pockets, he was a stranger – an odd one. Remaining guarded, I said, "Your accent – no one here sounds like you."

"You will get used to it. Everyone does." Zil smiled shyly. "I have a feeling, Ashe, that we will become friends by the end of the ghost hunt. Now, shall we?"

I wasn't the kind who made friends easily, or readily, and I wasn't a fan of clingy people. Wondering if it was the reason behind his frequent appearances, I asked, "How do I know you won't try something I won't like? I mean, you're everywhere I am and with no real explanation."

"I was not aware I needed one. I am simply out at night, as you are. We are both here to explore, but without plans to meet. Do we need to give an itinerary, or ask the other for permission next time?"

His rationalizing it made me feel stupid. "I didn't say I wanted to look around with you."

"That is true; you did not. So, I am inviting myself."

To avoid a confrontation, I decided to bend a little. "Fine. Do you have a flashlight?"

Zil held eye contact as he moved past me to the door. "I can actually see very well in the dark. But to be fair, I must tell you – I am a vampire. I hope that will not make things too scary."

Unprepared for his 'confession,' I didn't have a good comeback. But when he didn't say anything else, I decided he was trying to keep with the theme of being at a nerve-wracking, remote setting. "Sure you are. So, no warning against entering? Most people would think this was more spine-chilling than Cortland Bridge."

"The bridge is someplace no mort ..." He suddenly seemed unsure of himself as he continued, "It is a place that can prove more dangerous than what it appears. Do not judge it on its beauty. Look at it as if it can do harm."

Zil pulled open the door. Its loud creak chilled me, but the sound meant the building had been unoccupied for a long time. He peered in, but didn't immediately go inside. Wondering what he saw, if anything without a flashlight, I followed as he slowly moved forward, my light already on and aimed straight ahead of me.

The beam of light was hardly enough as I shined the flashlight around within the impossible darkness. While unable to see everything, I could make out some things; piles of debris, walls and beams that had broken from ... somewhere, as well as scattered bricks, rocks, and some broken glass, littered the ground. Dust covered everything and its smell hung heavily in the air. It was nothing short of a miracle that the building hadn't come crashing down on top of us as we entered.

The door creaked loudly as it slowly began to close behind us. But it wasn't the only thing making me uncomfortable – I didn't like being isolated in the total darkness with Zil. Stubbornly, maybe even stupidly, I refused to give up on my plans because he was there, though. Keeping my distance, I pointed my flashlight straight ahead, but held it a way that, if he tried anything, I could use it as a weapon against him.

As we continued further in, I tried looking for a sign that something supernatural was there, but the closest resemblance to anything paranormal that I could see were the dust clouds made by our footsteps.

I turned on the recorder. "Is anyone here?"

Zil looked at me curiously, but didn't say anything. After a few minutes with no answer to my question, and nothing mystical happening to let us know we weren't alone, I shut off the recorder and started for the exit.

"Are you leaving already?" Zil asked softly.

"There aren't any ghosts in here."

"Are you certain?"

"Have you seen any? You can stay, but I'm not."

I turned to leave, but halted when I caught a glimpse of something moving in the darkness, next to an upright column to our right. Quickly, I shined my flashlight ...

Upright column, debris, and dust – but no spectre.

"What is it?" Zil asked.

"It was nothing. Or if it was, it wasn't a ghost."

"How do you know? Have you ever seen one?"

His question made me uneasy, and I refused to let him talk me into appearing to be a freak like he had with his vampire talk. "Not really," I lied.

Zil's eyebrow raised, emphasizing his good-looks. "You said, 'not really.' You have had other experiences?"

I opened the door and walked out.

He was behind me. "Among those of the Under ..." He paused. Again, seeming suddenly uncomfortable, he continued, "I have been told that ghosts can choose when they come, and who they show themselves to. Perhaps they are unsure of our intentions."

The ghost hunt had been a failure, and I didn't need him rubbing it in. "Maybe everyone who says it's haunted is wrong, or – maybe ghost hunting isn't all it's cracked up to be. Maybe the dead are supposed to seek the living." I shut off the flashlight. "That ends a flop of an investigation."

"If you are interested, we can go to a cemetery. I am certain there is at least one we can find a ghost in."

Zil's comment made me curious to know if he'd had a past experience he was reluctant to admit, too ... and that was why he'd been at the warehouse – not as a stalker, but because he felt the same way I did about the dead. "I heard if they show themselves, it means they're unsettled." Zil said nothing. He seemed to be waiting for me to say more. Without mentioning my parents, I continued, "Okay – maybe that isn't the only reason I'm out looking. It may be selfish, but I'd like to be the one they turn to for help. You know, to give them closure, and I will if I can."

The corner of his mouth turned up slightly.

Defensively, I added, "I guess that's stupid."

"No, not stupid. I happen to think many people have unfinished business before they die, and that after, they remain behind to wait for someone who cares enough to help them find resolution. It appears that we have more in common than just turning up in remote places, at the same time, on the nights we are out."

I relaxed. "So, you've ghost hunted?"

"No. But I believe in the goodness of what you are doing. Since you seem devoted to it and are always alone, I can join you, if you are not opposed to it." He dropped his gaze and his lips curved into a slight smile. "With our established history of meeting up, it seems the reasonable thing to do. If it ends up not successful, there will be other nights." Zil's eyes rose to mine. He seemed to scrutinize me as I studied him, looking for the hint of mockery. What I saw was sincerity instead.

Still, I didn't answer him. I didn't want to promise something I might regret.

We left the warehouse and started back down the dirt path towards town. Zil was quiet, too quiet. Before it became awkward and I changed my mind about spending any more time with him, I said, "I was hoping the warehouse would be haunted. What a disappointment that it wasn't."

"I have it on good authority that it is. But it is dangerous to go into alone. Perhaps we can go again – together."

"But nothing was in there – or, did you see something and not tell me?"

Looking cagey, he answered, "I saw the same thing you did." He was a stranger, but even for someone I didn't know at all, he was acting oddly, like he'd been caught in a lie. He must have seen it in my expression because he swiftly added, "But others have said it is."

I dismissed his behavior as him being odd. "Yeah, I've heard that, too, but I'd rather see it for myself than hear about it from others. What about Cortland Bridge? It's up ahead. Are you game?"

He became noticeably uncomfortable. "Perhaps not tonight."

"You seem to know a lot about it. Why did you say it was too much for me to handle?"

"It can be treacherous. But, if you are determined to go, I will accompany you at a later date. I would not want anything to happen." He side-glanced me. "And have no one know."

Zil's comment might have scared off a more cautious person, but it was what he hadn't said that hooked me. He was being secretive. That meant he knew something about the bridge that I didn't. And despite him constantly showing up nightly where I was, he'd never been pushy or threatening. In fact, at the warehouse, he'd been ... decent. With more reasons for, than against, ghost hunting with him, I decided to take the chance. But I wouldn't tell Rhys. He'd ruin it faster than my aunt ever could.

As we passed the bridge, Zil didn't look at it. But I did. So abandoned, so lonely ... so misgiving – and I was becoming obsessed with it. I wanted to know the bridge's secrets. Even if Zil backed out of his offer to go with me, I'd still return, because it wasn't about him, or me, or anyone else – it was about the hunt.

We exited the dead end and walked to the entrance of Cemetery Raven. We stopped there, and though it looked like something was on Zil's mind, he didn't say anything. Neither of us did. It became awkward. I decided to go home before the silence between us became even more uncomfortable.

"Would you like to look for ghosts in here some night?" Zil asked, dragging his eyes from mine to the graveyard grounds.

Choosing not to let the opportunity pass on his attempt at making conversation without trying to get some answers and break into the mystery of him, even if it wasn't much, I nodded. "Yeah – okay. Since the ghosts are antisocial tonight, do you want to go to Bangles Diner? I could use a cup of coffee."

"I apologize, but I have no money to buy it for you."

"I wasn't expecting you to. I just asked if you wanted to go."

"Okay – yes."

We left Cemetery Raven. When we got to Bangles, Zil opened the door and held it for me. "Please. After you."

His gesture surprised me. Most cute guys I'd known had no manners and usually walked in without looking behind to see if the other person was following, because their personalities sucked. But I was quickly finding out that Zil wasn't like most others. I entered, murmuring, "Thank you."

"You are welcome."

He followed me to a booth and sat across from me. A waitress came over and I ordered coffee. With her pencil poised over the pad of paper she held, she turned to Zil. "Anything for you, honey?"

"No, thank you. I ate earlier."

I looked down to hide my smile at his reply. After she'd walked away, I said, "Right. Being a vampire, you wouldn't want the stuff on the menu. You're one of those eat-on-the-go types."

With storm clouds in his eyes, Zil looked away.

I'd clearly offended him with my teasing. Not wanting to lose the chance of getting to know Zil better, I tried to think of a topic that wouldn't unintentionally insult him over his weirdness. But while I looked at him, two things about Zil noticeably stood out. He was truly handsome, almost unnaturally, and his face, almost too pale, was like perfectly sculpted marble, especially against the black shirt and dark semi-casual jacket he wore. And though I didn't buy into his claim of vampirism, it made me wonder if he was sick, even terminally. Then, his eyes – taking a closer look, I could see he didn't have in contact lenses. They were natural, and the most beautiful, and uncommon, I'd ever seen – deep emerald green with sharp gray centers.

"Ashe?"

I was staring. "Um, so ... are you from Mannix?"

Seemingly relieved at the change in conversation, and reprieve from my embarrassingly intense gaze, he replied, "No. I came here from France."

Another painful hush fell between us as the waitress brought my order and left again. Pressure was building – I didn't know what to say to him where it would turn into an actual conversation. If neither of us could, our time spent together might amount to us just circling one another as we tried to come up with something to say that would last longer than a couple of minutes, and not end up being either inane, or a conversation just for the sake of having it. Folding under the pressure, I brought up the first thing I could think of, "So, I haven't seen you at school. Why do I only see you ...?"

Zil abruptly cut me off. "Unfortunately, I must go soon."

Maybe I'd said something wrong again, or he was tired and wasn't up for a probing 'twenty-questions' type of conversation, so I let it drop. I didn't want to push or seem overly interested. I'd found out his name. The rest would come later.

"Before I ask to walk you home, what is your favorite color?"

"What ... a strange question. Does it make a difference?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Indulge me."

Not interested in playing the tug-of-war game of whose willpower would best the other's, I answered, "Black. What's yours – because if I don't like your answer, you're not walking me home."

His expression turned mischievous. "It is the same color as your shirt – red."

Zil's sick sense of humor was like mine. He was strange, but he didn't seem to be a bad person to get to know – especially since he seemed to have the answers to my questions about Cortland Bridge, all of which I'd be sure to ask. "Of course it is – vampire. Now that we've passed that hurdle ... let's go."

I put the money on the table and we left. As Zil walked me home, another lull in conversation fell. Tapped out of ideas for anything to say, I pretended to look up at the sky while I sneaked a side-glance at him. Despite my uncertainty, he had a quality about him that fascinated me, even though I didn't know why. Whatever it was, the guys at school lacked it. But that didn't mean an instant friendship would happen between us.

"Where do you want to look for ghosts next time?" he asked.

"I don't know ... someplace that's, hopefully, haunted. It'd be depressing to end up with another flop." I stopped. "Here we are."

He looked over at my aunt's house and then back at me ... and a memory flashed.

The night I saw someone next to me ... and then, in a blink, he'd disappeared ...!

Knowing it was impossible, humanly impossible, for someone to disappear so swiftly from sight didn't take away from the fact that he looked remarkably similar, too close for coincidence. And he did have a way of suddenly being gone.

"Have you ...?" I faltered