Drained: The Lucid (38 page)

Disappointment weighed heavy on her chest, but brunch wasn’t an entirely bad idea. She had to do something with herself, and seeing friendly faces would help her get back to a normal routine.

Brunch would be great,
she wrote Heather back.
Tell James he can order for me if I’m late.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Riley began to check her e-mails from her phone. The screen was much easier to read than the face of her watch. There were a few new messages, although most went into the electronic trash bin without being read. The most important e-mail of the bunch was Madison. Its subject line read “I so so so incredibly want. <3!” Riley opened the message to watch a video of a puppy that her jubilant friend wanted to adopt. Madison had already made a list of twenty-seven names. According to her friend, the shelter-given name didn’t match the puppy’s personality. Riley laughed at some of the random choices, but they were all so fitting for a pet Madison would have: Blimpie Junior, Trousers, Santa Paws, Chew Barka, Rolls Royce, and Cinnafun. After some thought, she mused if maybe someone in their group could raise the puppy with Madison. A wicked smile crossed her lips and Riley decided to forward the message to Seven, along with her idea that he should coparent with Madison.

As she began to type out Seven’s e-mail in the contact field, the auto-fill selections came up with a list of her saved contacts. One address stood out among the suggestions.

“Sean,” Riley whispered into the empty room.

He was the catalyst for her world being turned upside down—the root cause for Morgan’s mind having been turned into a prison all those years ago. He was Morgan’s permanent emotional scar, and if not for his break-in, Riley would still have access to her lucid dreamer. Because she had Morgan’s name and her consent, Riley would have been able to visit her off the clock. It would have been perfect—or as close to perfection as Riley was allowed to have. At the very least, it would have given her more time to figure out what they were to each other and why everything was so complicated between them.

Riley furrowed her brow in thought. She lacked the evidence to connect Sean to all the unusual incidents of the past few months, but she knew he had some connection, some answers to the questions she had. And she was going to find out.

Riley typed his name into the search field of her e-mail client and a few junked messages popped up on her screen. Clicking on the latest e-mail which she had received a few weeks ago, she hoped to find his updated contact information. She went backward through all the unopened messages that she had routinely marked as spam until she found one with a phone number. The e-mail was dated from a couple months back, but it was worth a try. Unless she wanted to roam the streets of Los Angeles in hopes of bumping into the elusive incubus, this was all she had. If it came to it, she’d involve Seven’s web of gossip queens to track him down.

Her thumbs tapped out a brief text message:
Hope this is still your number. Let’s meet up. Riles.

With a new goal to distract and propel her through the day, Riley dragged herself out of bed and went about the task of making herself presentable. If she wanted to avoid Heather’s overly critical eye at brunch, she’d need to at least shower.

It wasn’t even an hour after her initial text that Riley heard the ring of her phone. She grabbed the device and noticed the number on the screen instead of a contact name. It wasn’t one she recognized, and it wasn’t the number she had sent Sean’s text message to. Riley paced a few steps as her phone continued to vibrate in her hands. Maybe it was Sean on a different number, maybe it was a recorded telemarketing message telling her she’d been approved for a car loan, or maybe … just maybe …

With one last calming breath, Riley answered. “Hello?” She stilled her legs and wrapped an arm around her midsection.

“Hey, missy.” Hearing Sean’s voice sent a chill down her spine. It was like speaking to a ghost. “I’m glad to hear from you. I’d knew you’d come around one day.”

“Yeah.” Afraid that the anger would seep into her voice, Riley kept her words to a minimum. “What happened to the number I texted?”

“Oh, I have multiple cells. You should keep this number though.” He took a noticeable breath over the phone. “The other one changes when it’s necessary. But enough about my phone habits, what’s going on with my favorite succubus?”

“I—” Riley had shake off the edging anger in her voice. “Are you free any time soon?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“But that’s Christmas Eve.”

She could hear the sound of paper rustling before he spoke. “Yeah. I’m heading out of town on Christmas.” He sighed into the receiver. “I know you’re a busy girl. So if that doesn’t work for you …” The sound of rustling paper returned. “I’ll be in town again in another month or—”

“No,” she interrupted. “Tomorrow works.”

“Oh? No family function this year?” Sean inquired with a soft laugh. “Would hate for Heather to be mad at you.”

Hearing him refer to Heather in a casual manner brought her back to a time when they were all friends. Those were the memories she’d desperately clung to while the other members hung him out to dry. But in light of the new information on his past, Riley felt her skin crawl at the sound of his voice. She didn’t know who he was anymore—Jekyll or Hyde.

“I’ll be fine.” Riley looked at her watch; brunch would be soon. “So, what time works for you? And where?”

“I think six will do well. But I’ll let you pick the place.”

She wasn’t prepared to name a place. In truth, to be having this phone conversation at all was still a bit of a shock. “How about the Red Sea Tavern?”

“The indie cubare place?” He sounded surprised.

“Yes. Is there a problem with that?”

“No,” he admitted. “It’s … time really does change things.”

• • •

The Red Sea Tavern was busy even though it was Christmas Eve. The neon lights on the outside cast hues of pinks, reds, and purples to indicate that the establishment was open. Aside from a couple random strands of icicle-shaped lights, tinsel, and a bare garland, there was no visible evidence of the holiday season. The music selection similarly failed to reflect the festive time, and a flat-screen TV played a program about the greatest moments in sports, not
A Miracle on 34th Street.

This was not how Christmas time was supposed to be, not for Riley at least. She and her friends routinely celebrated the Christian holiday, as they were relatively young within the cubare community, but others she knew observed the more ancient holiday of Yule. Even then, the weeks of December were supposed to be the most joyous time of the year. It was thirty-one days that represented peace, happiness, the guise of little stress, and for a lot of people, it meant presents under a decorated tree. As for the eve of Christmas, this was a night to be spent with loved ones around a plentiful dinner; what it wasn’t was a time to meet up with the one person that Riley wanted to set on fire like a yule log.

Riley scanned the dimly lit bar. Sean had yet to arrive, so she walked the expanse of the stale bar and claimed an empty table. The seating was a small table, off toward the back wall, that could comfortably fit two or cram three. The wobbly thing was dusted with crumbs, and the surface was stained with water rings, but she could at least be thankful that it was the table that was missing a rubber leveler and not her chair.

While she settled herself in, a cocktail waitress approached and asked for her order. At first, Riley thought better of plying herself with alcohol, but since it was Sean upon whom she was waiting, she settled for a gin on the rocks. The drink was going to be necessary to calm her nerves. The blonde waitress smiled and pulled a dirty rag from her apron. She haphazardly swiped at the table, dislodging a few of the larger crumbs, before taking off to fill Riley’s order.

Riley tugged at the hem of her coat. Although this wasn’t her first visit, she still felt out of place at the tavern. Her last experience had quite literally left a bad taste in her mouth. She glanced at the watch strapped to her wrist. She’d left the Trusics-issued timepiece at home the first time, but purposely wore it now. It would serve as a reminder to Sean of who she was and what she represented, but more importantly, it would remind herself.

Time was never on her side. With it being Christmas Eve, she was supposed to be at Heather and James’s home, not the Red Sea Tavern, meeting up with someone from a former life. Her friends were hosting dinner again, and she had to be there. If pressed, Riley had no good excuse not to attend; she couldn’t blame her absence on family, a fake emergency, or even use Amber as an excuse. She was out of town visiting her parents until the next day. If Sean was late, she was going to end up with a call from at least Heather, and being bombarded with questions as to her whereabouts was not high on her list of very-Christmas things in which to participate.

“You look good,” a familiar voice greeted. Riley’s head snapped up in surprise. Sean had not come from the direction of the front door, or she would have noticed. If not for his voice, she might not have recognized him. He had buzzed off his once scruffy hair, and the formerly jet-black mane was now dyed light brown. The navy blue peacoat obscured the broad, muscled body she remembered.

With drink in hand, he grinned down at her. “Not a day older than when I last saw you.”

The smile slipped from his face when Riley didn’t return the friendly gesture, but he went about making himself comfortable without much hesitation. He removed his heavy peacoat and tossed it on the back of his chair.

Riley’s drink was slipped onto the table. Normally, she would have thanked the waitress and started a conversation, but Sean’s presence had monopolized her attention, and she couldn’t find her voice. When Riley didn’t acknowledge the drink or the tavern staff, Sean politely thanked the young woman for her service, and she retreated from their table.

The man who sat a table length away didn’t match the stories she’d heard or the notes made in his employee files. There was a calmness to the way he presented himself while he picked off the lint on his shirt.

Aside from the visibly faint circles under his eyes, he looked healthier than the last time they had seen each other. It had been years since the day he’d gone off the grid without so much as a farewell. So much time had passed, but ultimately within their lifespan, it was really no time at all.

Seeing Sean again made Riley feel anxious, and at the same time, her blood boiled. This was the incubus responsible for Morgan’s emotional damage, but he was also responsible for Riley’s existence. Her eyes locked on his features. She couldn’t find the strength to pull her gaze away. It was as if she was afraid to blink from her stare, if she looked away for a moment, Sean would disappear again.

“C’mon, say something,” he coaxed. A crooked smirk slid across his rugged features. “I know you didn’t meet me on Christmas Eve to give me the silent treatment.”

Riley stared at that damning smile; she couldn’t dismiss the disturbing visual of him and Morgan. Conjured thoughts conflicted with what she knew of him. There had been a period in time when she had trusted Sean with her life, when she considered him her closest friend and greatest ally. But circumstances had changed, and Riley had to remind herself that people also changed.

She picked up her drink and tossed back the burning liquid. She only needed a bit of liquid courage if she wanted to get through this meeting. “You look better than when I saw you last.”

“Thanks.” He nodded his head before leaning back in his chair. “It took a while, but I worked on myself, and I got better.” He cleared his throat and readjusted in his seat. “You know, I’m sorry about what happened. How I treated you.”

“Yeah, I got your e-mails.” Riley mirrored his relaxed posture, but she felt tense. The topic made her throat constrict.

“I meant every word.” His smoldering gaze fixed on hers and his brow knitted. “You’re the last person I wanted to hurt.” His apology seemed sincere, and Riley desperately wanted the conflicting feelings to fade.

“Care to share why you took off the way you did?” This meeting was about answers, not providing Sean with a way to feel better about himself.

He smiled, but didn’t take the bait. “How have you been?” He picked at a cracked menu stand in the middle of the table before retrieving his own drink. “I heard you’ve climbed your way into Trusics’s record books.”

He lifted his cup in salute and smiled before taking another sip.

“You can say that.” She frowned, refusing to give him the pleasure of a smile or any similar nicety. A compliment about her success at work wasn’t going to pacify her or distract her from the reason she’d wanted this meeting. She rubbed the palms of her hands against the top of her jeans. “Look, I’m not here to make nice with you.”

“I can tell.” Sean absentmindedly played with the scruff on his face. “So after all these years, what made you finally reach out to me?”

“Why are you in town?”

Sean snorted. “Well, this is different.” He narrowed his eyes to inspect Riley. The intensity of his scrutiny made her want to wither, but she kept her backbone rigid and straight. “What happened to the polite Southern girl I met all those years back?”

“She got hurt by the one person who should have been there for her, so she grew up.” Riley’s frown lines deepened. “And don’t ignore my question. You know I can’t stand that.”

“I was making an observation,” he admitted with an easy shrug. “But if you must know, I’m in town to visit some friends and to wrap up some …
personal
projects. I honestly didn’t even know the old gang had relocated here until I got to LA.”

“I know you’re not here for casual chit-chat with friends.” Riley’s voice lowered. “So, once again, why are you in my town?”

“My my, how time has changed you.” His glance drifted toward the crowded bar, and he took another sip from his emptying glass. “Your bite’s gotten bigger. That’s good. It’s healthy. Keeps you alive.”

“Don’t toy with me, Sean.” Riley’s jaw tightened. “Tell me about these ‘personal projects.’ Would it involve breaking into someone’s dream?”