Authors: Trina M Lee
He was right. The circumstances, the events of the evening, it was all wrong. If it was to ever happen, it could never be like this.
Chapter Eleven
The hum of voices coming from the television barely kept my attention. As hard as I tried to make myself follow the sitcom, I just couldn’t keep up. My thoughts were elsewhere.
I hadn’t moved from my spot on the couch for hours other than to refill my coffee mug. Wrapped in my fuzzy black robe, I stared at the moving images on the screen, but all I saw was Lena’s broken body. I’d cried myself out of tears hours ago.
A short phone conversation with Jez had provided some comfort. We shared our grief, but on some level, we were alone in our pain. Jez, Kale and I had all had our own relationship with Lena.
To me she was the mother figure I’d needed after losing my own and a teacher that helped to guide and shape the power I now held. She was too good to go out the way she had. Deep in my heart, I knew she wouldn’t want me to blame myself. Knowing that made it harder to stop.
I’d been ignoring Veryl’s calls all evening. I didn’t care what he had to say. I didn’t want to hear it. After the third call, he’d left a nasty voice mail saying that feeling sorry for myself wasn’t going to bring Lena back and that shit like this happens all the time, especially to humans. That was all I had to hear to know that I would tell Shya yes. I would happily kill Veryl.
Despite my claim that I needed a night alone, Arys had insisted on coming by. He wanted to talk. As I listened to him bang and crash things in my kitchen, I wished he would just say what was on his mind. Instead he’d been fumbling around with the coffee pot and making a poor attempt at heating lasagna.
Another crash came from the kitchen, and I cringed. No wonder I couldn’t focus on the cheesy show. “Are you ok, babe?”
“Yes!” His response was frantic. “How many sugars in your coffee? Four?”
“Two. But, you don’t need to make more coffee. I still have some.” Swirling the murky liquid in my cup, I frowned. It was pretty far from fresh.
“Too late. It’s already made. …Son of a bitch!”
Another crash of dishes got me up off the couch and heading for the short staircase that led to the kitchen. Arys met me at the top, his hands raised as if to block me.
“Don’t get up. Just go sit down, and I’ll bring it to you.” He angled his body so I couldn’t see into the kitchen.
“Arys, what did you do? I don’t expect you to cook for me. In fact, I think its best that you don’t.” Standing on my tiptoes, I tried to see over his shoulder. I was sure I’d heard something break.
“Hey, give me a little credit. I’m over three hundred years old. I’m not about to be outsmarted by a stove.” His tone was firm, but uncertainty lay in his eyes. “Besides, there’s nothing I can do to ease the pain of your loss. I just need to do something. Humor me?”
I sniffed the air, wrinkling my nose. “Is something burning?”
Arys rushed to the stove in a panic. “Shit!”
I watched him pull the blackened lasagna out of the oven and throw it on the counter. Smoke billowed out to fill the kitchen and burn my eyes. Watching the frantic vampire lose his usual cool and calm over a store-bought frozen lasagna was priceless. I laughed so hard my stomach hurt.
“I’ll just have coffee. Unless you’ve managed to burn that, too.”
He flipped me off and swore again at the burning mass that barely resembled food. It was just as well; I wasn’t hungry anyway.
I descended back into the living room to open a window before settling back into my favorite corner of the couch. I could safely say that the only man in my life I’d be trusting in the kitchen was Shaz. He was a far better cook than I was. Vampires clearly had no business messing around with food and hot appliances.
I hid a grin when Arys entered the room with a fresh mug of coffee. As soon as I caught its bitter scent, I knew I’d have to fake my way through this one. Did he dump a whole can of grounds in there?
Yuck.
I took the mug with a murmur of thanks, watching pensively as Arys sat on the cushion next to me. He pulled my feet onto his lap, slipped my socks off and began to rub the sole of my right foot. The sip of coffee I took was absolutely vile, but Arys’ touch was perfect. I groaned in pleasure. His massage was magic, almost better than sex. Who was I kidding? It couldn’t compare to sex, but he hit a few major pleasure points that had me moaning like I was halfway to climax.
“You think that coffee is disgusting, don’t you?” He was eyeing me closely, watching the bliss cross my face.
“Yes. I’m sorry. I just have my own way of doing it.” Relieved, I abandoned the mug on the coffee table. “But, don’t think for a minute that I don’t appreciate the thought behind your destruction of my kitchen. I love you for trying.”
He frowned, his gaze dropping to my foot. The pressure increased, and I made a sound that could have come from an x-rated adult film. Funny how a great massage can put you in the same state of mind.
“You’re not blaming yourself, are you? You know it was for the best that you killed Harley. I hate what happened to Lena. I only met her the one time, and she was lovely. I know she meant a lot to you. But please, don’t beat yourself up over this.”
I suddenly found the television to be engrossing, if only because it allowed me to avoid meeting Arys’ eyes. “I know that, logically. I can’t help but feel a little guilty. It’s just going to take some time to deal with. I will be fine.”
I could see him look at me though I was focused on the television. His stare grew heavy, and I knew he wasn’t going to let up. Dragging my gaze to his, I tensed. It had been more than just my guilt over Lena that had him here destroying my house.
“Alexa, I know you share my memories,” Arys began as if choosing his words carefully. “I know you saw Claire in my past. I don’t want that to be something that haunts you.”
“You mean something I’ll hold against you?” I asked, taking his silence as a yes. “It’s not like I just found out you’re a killer, Arys. So you two liked to tag team virgins together. Could have been worse.”
I was being a tad flippant but only because I didn’t want to discuss this. Arys was a vampire. He loved it. Picking apart a past that existed hundreds of years before I did was pointless. I considered it irrelevant.
“You know what I’m really talking about.” He didn’t want to say it.
“You mean because you slept with her?” I laughed dryly. “I didn’t really think you’d spent three centuries being celibate. What kind of an idiot do you think I am?”
“Come on, I didn’t say that.” Arys stroked a finger under my toes, and I giggled.
“I know you’ve had other lovers, Arys. I get that. It was a long time ago. I’d really rather not be forced to think about it though.”
He nodded. “Ok, fine. I just felt like I should say something. Especially since I really don’t know how much you’ve seen.”
“Enough.” I smiled so he would know I really wasn’t upset. “Most of it’s a blur of random images that move too fast for me to follow. Sometimes I’ll see something clearly, as if I’m seeing it through your eyes as it happened. I hate that. But, it doesn’t happen much. Your memories are buried deep in my subconscious where I prefer to keep them.”
A grin tugged at Arys’ lips. “You know your memories aren’t a real picnic, either. Some days I wake up screaming, dreaming about your wolf attack. It takes a few moments to grasp that I’m not you.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to seeing through your eyes like that. I’m just glad it doesn’t happen all the time.”
We sat in comfortable silence for a while, a comedy show capturing our attention. It wasn’t often that we sat in front of the TV and zoned out. It felt good. I didn’t spend nearly enough time doing this kind of thing. Normal things.
After giving my other foot the same amazing attention that had me moaning, Arys squeezed in behind me on the couch. He pulled me to him so that my back was to his chest. His arms went around me, and I sank against him gratefully. So maybe a cloud of smoke still lingered in my kitchen and maybe I had more memories of Arys’ blood-drunk sexual history than I desired, but I wouldn’t have traded it for anything.
Moments like this were blessedly simple. Simple was underrated. I could use more of this … without the horrible surrounding circumstances.
I snuggled in beside Arys. His body alongside mine was comforting, reassuring in a way that I needed. I was glad he’d come tonight. The moment of calm would be over much too soon.
* * * *
The sun was warm against my face. It felt all wrong. I kept wondering where the clouds were. Today was a day for rolling thunder and sudden rainfall, when the earth, too, cried over the loss of one of its own. Instead, I gazed up at a crisp blue afternoon sky while the sun blazed.
The cemetery was quiet. Those gathered for Lena’s burial were small in number. Jez and I huddled together a safe distance from the friends and family neither of us knew. Kale hated that he couldn’t be there with us. The sun assaulted my eyes and skin. It burned. Still, it had no further power over me. Not yet.
I recognized Lena’s daughter, Brogan. Having met her a few times, I knew little about her other than that she, too, was a natural earth witch like her mother. Despite what authorities might have told her, Brogan would know vampires had been the cause of her mother’s death. That was confirmed when she met my eyes across the open grave. Behind her obvious pain was the calm resolve of a witch on the war path.
The minister spoke words of hope and celebration of life. They never penetrated my tough exterior. I was cold with the visual of what had been done to Lena. Personally destroying Claire and Maxwell was all I could think about.
“This is the worst day ever,” Jez muttered, fussing with her long ponytail. “I feel like I should say something to Brogan, but I don’t know what. Anything that comes out of my mouth is going to be all wrong today.”
The past few days had been rough. It showed on Jez. The lack of sleep was evident on her face. Her eyes were puffy, and she had made very little effort to apply makeup. For Jez, that said a lot about her state of mind. She was internalizing, like we all did in these times. Things that usually matter had lost their appeal.
Saying goodbye to Lena was difficult. I fought back tears, fearing they would be blood-red. The pressure built inside me. I wanted to scream if only to feel some relief. We stood quietly through the rest of the short service. When the family began to cry and talk amongst themselves, Jez and I looked awkwardly at one another.
“Should we just go?” I shrugged, feeling out of place.
She held up a bouquet of flowers, waving them so the sweet fragrance wafted to me. As nice as it was, the scent of grief easily overpowered it. “I need to leave these by the headstone first.”
Brogan pulled away from the rest of her family to join us. My gaze was drawn to the headstone and Lena’s name etched deep into the marble slab. It hurt to look at the headstone, but staring into the pain in Brogan’s hazel eyes was worse.
“Thank you for coming,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “My mom talked a lot about you both. And Kale. Please tell him I apologize for the daytime service.” She mustered a smile that quickly fell flat.
“Brogan, I’m so sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say. I had nothing to offer that would ease her agony.
Jez murmured sympathetic words and grabbed Brogan in a friendly hug. I stood there feeling awkward. I shielded against the storm of negative energy rolling from Lena’s mourning family. I could feel it battering my personal circle, seeking a way in.
“The cops are passing it off as an unfortunate home invasion.” Brogan sighed heavily and tugged a stray lock of dirty blond hair behind her ear. “I smiled and nodded. What could I do? Tell them about the heavy stink of vampire energy left behind? Dealing with the will and everything is proving to be enough hassle. But, knowing they’re out there…”
“I’m on it, Brogan.” I promised, my temper rising. “I know who did this. I’m going to find them.”
“I want in.” The determined set to her jaw reminded me far too much of Lena. “I need to be part of this, Alexa.”
Jez was already shaking her head. “God no, Brogan. You’ll get yourself killed.”
We all glanced around anxiously to ensure nobody was within earshot. Brogan frowned, her expression one of stubborn refusal. The last thing I needed was for something to happen to her, too. No way. Not on my watch.