Stalking Dead (Vampire Hunter Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

forever, but who was anybody really kidding?
    Well, maybe it would with Lucas. Anything is possible when it comes to him.
    I had almost been able to put that kiss with Henry out of my mind, mostly because he seemed totally normal with me. Which I guessed was a good thing.
    As for Lucas…I hadn’t heard from him for days, not since we’d dug up my grave.
    My pride was hurt. I’d thought that I had two amazing guys who really liked me, and now it seemed I had zilch.
    Maybe the Matthews men are really good at putting things out of their minds, I mused. But could Mr. Matthews really be capable of doing that to his longtime love? The question had been rolling around in my mind since I first overheard that odd telephone conversation. I knew I should stay out of other people’s business, but I just couldn’t drop it. I had known Henry, and his parents, for that matter, for way too long to just sit idly by and watch David make a fool of Valerie.
    All of this scrutiny into Mr. Matthew’s affairs had gotten me to thinking about my own parents. I had always heard that a tragedy would either bring two people together or rip them apart. I remembered seeing Mom rest her head on Dad’s shoulders that first day at my grave, confirmation that my death had produced the latter of the two scenarios.
    But I couldn’t help but wonder, what if Kayla wasn’t around ? Would Mom and Dad have still toughed it out, or did my death kill their relationship? Every time they looked at each other, did they think of their daughter, killed in some gruesome way before her time and beyond their comprehension?
    I knew now more than ever that I had to very carefully plan for my re-emergence into their lives. I had disturbed so much – and who even knew if my parents could stand the sight of each other any longer? I would have to be careful about how – and when – I showed them that I was back. Henry hadn’t mentioned again that I needed to reveal myself to them, but I knew he would bring it up sooner or later.
    I could still see my mom so vividly in my mind. Tall and slender, I had always looked up to her when I was a little girl. I have the prettiest mommy in the world , I used to tell her.
    I don’t know when the last time I said that to her was. I felt an unshakable sadness. Suddenly, all I longed for in the world was to hear the familiar click of her opening my bedroom door to check on me when she got home from work.
    Mom was a pharmacist, an d two days a week she worked until the pharmacy closed at seven. On those nights, Dad would roll up his sleeves and attempt to cook dinner for Kayla and me. Although after the chicken incident, we usually made it a pizza or Chinese night.
    The Chicken Incident , aka The Great Chicken Debacle , aka The Time Daddy Tried to Kill Us had become infamous in the Stone household. I smiled thinking about it.
    My dad, who was not the most fantastic cook in the world to begin with, tried to kee p it simple on the nights when Mom was working late. After Kayla and I had complained one too many times about the hamburger helper and fried egg dinners (not served together, of course), Dad had promised us he’d make some ‘real’ food. Perhaps more than a little overzealous, my dad decided to make a fancy, and complicated, prosciutto wrapped chicken.
    The ingred ients themselves cost nearly a hundred dollars. He had started preparations the night before, as the recipe called for an overnight marinade. Kayla and I had watched in amusement while he clumsily fumbled around the kitchen.
    When he had finally finished preparing the chicken and was ready to put it in the oven, it almost looked like a piece of art. Kayla and I had been impressed; now all he had to do was make sure he didn’t over or under cook it.
    And boy, oh boy, did he overcook it. The chicken was supposed to be baked at 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Dad transposed the numbers and set the oven to five hundred and thirty degrees.
    After about a half hour in the