Forsaken by Leanna Ellis Page A

impervious to the chill in her furry jacket. Even her disgruntled lap dog wore a coat, like it was attempting to be Paris Hilton’s dog. Whatever the teen was reading caused a smile to curl her lips. A glance at the dark-covered book made Roc shake his head. Anthony should have a talk with this one and compare notes.
    â€œYou know,” he said to her in passing, “vampires don’t shimmer in sunlight.”
    â€œHow do you know? Oh, never mind.” She went back to reading.
    According to Anthony there was a lot of misinformation in literature, not that Roc believed in any of that vampire crap. Who would want to read about such nonsense anyway?
    He walked on. When he reached the steps that led to the second-story room he’d rented, the girl called to him, “You really should read this.” She waved the book at him. “You might end up a vampire fan.”
    â€œDoubt it.” He doubted he’d be a believer either. Not the way Anthony was. But Roc wondered why such a vile creature had become a superhero. That bothered the judicial side of him, like putting Ted Bundy on a pedestal. “Are you a fan?”
    â€œOh yeah!” She sat forward, a gleam brightening her eyes.
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œThey’re cool.” Her innocence worried him. Shouldn’t evil be called evil? She lifted the book. “They’re vegetarians and nice.”
    What if they were behind this latest misinformation? He pinched the bridge of his nose. Obviously he’d been driving too much over the last two days. He needed to get some sleep. Still, he hated that this teen—and so many like her—just accepted what they heard as if it were truth.
    â€œSo, what…they eat carrots?”
    â€œAre you crazy?”
    Probably so for engaging in this conversation. “Didn’t you ever hear you can’t squeeze blood from a turnip?” The teen stared at him like his head had just popped off. “These vampires of yours…what do they do? Drink Vulcan blood?” He chuckled at his own joke.
    But he was the only one with a sense of humor as the girl rolled her eyes. “They eat animals .”
    â€œLike your little Fifi there?”
    The girl hugged her persnickety dog tight. “Her name is Bonita.”
    â€œUh-huh.” Roc wasn’t a biologist or anything, but something with teeth and fur wasn’t for vegetarians. “Still carnivorous.”
    â€œWhatever.”
    And he shrugged off his own foolishness. Why did he bother trying to make sense of something nonsensical?

Chapter Seven
    Levi stood in the cleft of darkness, his body relaxing against the slats of the barn wall, his eyelids drooping closed. He’d been awake since four that morning, which was not unusual considering the work he did for Daniel Schmidt, but staying up this late, keeping an eye on things at the barn singing, was. He wished the voices would quiet and the playing would end. It was obvious Hannah was not coming.
    She’d stayed away again. He’d watched and waited and hoped that, despite her words, she would be lured by the fun. Disappointment weighted his chest like a hefty sack of feed had been plopped on it, a sensation he should have been used to.
    The first time he’d really noticed Hannah, she couldn’t have been more than twelve, with those wide brown eyes, humor making them the color of autumn leaves. He knew then he would have done anything for her.
    It was foolishness, for she’d only ever had eyes for Jacob.
    But Levi hadn’t been able to help himself. He had studied the way she carried herself, never hesitating to help someone, never quibbling about obeying her mamm. And when her laugh rang out, sounding like the angels, Levi had thought he’d landed in heaven. Jacob had known how to make her laugh—dangling upside down from a tree branch, balancing a bucket on his head, or whispering something in her ear. But Levi had rarely coaxed a