The Vampire Christopher Read Online Free PDF Page B

placed her other hand on my forehead, and patted. “Hold very still, and keep your eyes closed u ntil I tell you,” Arianna said, kindly.
    I bit my cheek. Christopher told me nothing could pass through the enchantments unless they had a pure heart. That meant these pixilettes wouldn’t hurt me , didn’t it ?
    You are way to o trusting, my inner voice seethed.
    I nodded at Arianna , and closed my eyes.
    For what seemed like hours, I couldn’t feel anything, only heard the occasional tinkling, which I now knew was the pixilettes laughing. I also smelled oregano.
    They are seasoning you, and intend to eat you for dinner, my inner voice scolded.
    S ensitivity started to come back into my legs. It felt like pins and needles were doing a tap dance on my thighs. I wanted to rub them, or shake them, anything to get r id of the pain, but Arianna told me to hold still. Gri tting my t e eth, I held steady, and my mind drifted.
     
    “Ch ristopher Charming, get in here! ” The voice sounded muffled.
    I looked down at myself, and saw I was transparent , like mist. Reaching out to touch my arm, my fingers went right through me. Gasping, I swung in a circle, trying to figure out where I ’d gone .
    I stood in a garage, which I guessed meant I was no longer in Sharra. At least that’s what I believed from everything I’d seen of Sharra so far.
    The garage door looked rusty, and unused. The room was cluttered with boxes stacked to the grungy ceiling , a couch covered in a dusty sheet, and other odds and ends. The walls were aluminum, and rippled . On one wall hung a pegboard with tools, including hammers, a handsaw, drills, and more. Piles of different sized wood rested against the garage door, and lay on the concrete floor next to s trange- looking steely machines .
    Sitting at one of the machines cutting a small piece of wood was Christopher, wearing a striped shirt with a wi de collar and brown corduroy pants that belled out at the bottom.
    “Charming,” I called out, my voice hesitant.
    He didn’t acknowledge me, but then he hadn’t acknowledged the woman who’d yelled at him a moment ago either.
    “I’m going to count to three, and then I’ll add on to your chores,” the muffled female voice hollered .
    Christopher groaned . “Fine,” he grumbled. Tucking whatever he worked on in his pocket, he started to walk toward me.
    “Christopher,” I whispered.
    He didn’t stop, but went right through me. Freaky! I didn’t feel a thing.
    I turned and watched him open a warped brown door, and go through.
    “What?” I heard him call before he slammed it .
    You died, you idiot, my inner voice howled .
    Shut it! I screeched .
    “What am I doing here?” I slowly spun in a circle, searching for answers.
    Follow Christopher, ding-dong.
    My inner voice was really starting to grate on my nerves, but I obeyed. Stepping up to the door, I tried to wrap a hand around the knob, but I couldn’t grab it.
    Jump in !
    “Argh,” I growled, putting a flattened hand against the door. It disappeared . So I stuck my arm, followed by my head through the door . Yep, going through objects wasn’t a problem for me.
    No duh, my inner voice harrumphed.
    On the other side , I looked around. The house was small, run down. Empty of pictures or any sort of decoration. I made my way in to the kitchen. Think retro 70’s at its finest— orange cupboards, a pea green refrigerator and stove, and white linoleum flooring. A half-eaten sandwich sat on the counter, as did an empty marbled , green glass.
    No one was in the kitchen , but I heard talking to my left so I followed the sound through a wall and into the living room. I’d never seen so much plaid.
    Christopher stood at the foot of a woman sitting on a faded orange recliner . She handed him s ome money, which he stuffed in his back pocket.
    “Get me a pound of gro und beef, and a pack of cigarettes —whichever one’s are on sale. Don’t dawdle.” The woman speaking had medium length blond,