by J. A. Saare
I opened my eyes before the daylight trickled into the room. Caleb was still sleeping, his face against my neck and an arm draped across my hip. I lay as still as possible, afraid to disturb him or interrupt our last morning together. I waited until the light filtered in before I slipped free.
I managed not to wake him, tiptoeing into the closet and retrieving my clothes to take a shower. I hurried, saving everyone water, and towel dried my hair quickly in an effort to maintain the silence until everyone woke. I padded silently into the bedroom and Caleb was awake, dressed and leaning against the headboard.
"Good morning,” he greeted me in a thick voice. His hair was ever so messy.
"Good morning,” I replied, smiling. I leaned into the closet and tossed the towel on top of the pile of clothes in the hamper.
"I'm next,” he said.
He lifted himself off the mattress and walked to me, grasping my hip and kissing my forehead. Then he went into the closet for his own clothes, quietly padding into the bathroom.
Another door opened and closed and I glanced up. Sarah peeked around the door and smiled at me.
"May I come in?"
"Sure.” I motioned to the bed and she sat across from me, looking fantastic, even first thing in the morning. Derek was a very lucky man.
"You must be nervous, big day today,” she said.
"Very nervous, worried, all that good stuff.” I nodded, releasing a sigh. “The last few days have been unbelievable—first Caleb, and now this. I don't over think it anymore because just when I think I have it all sorted, another curveball gets thrown in."
"That's very understandable. Perhaps after you meet with Sam and his liaison, you will feel more secure about everything."
Quietly, I asked, “Do you know anything about vampires?"
"I do.” She glanced at the door. “What do you want to know?"
"Why does this happen with blood relatives? Why not anyone else? And what's with all the secrecy?” The questions flew from my mouth as quickly as they came to me.
"That's a loaded question.” She smiled, laughing quietly. “We'll start at the why. The special characteristics that some obtain when they change only occurs when it's from a direct descendant. We're not sure how it happens exactly, and of course, they'd never tell us. We work for them, and we're friendly with them, but not that friendly. From the snooping I've done it seems to be something in the genetic make-up, but I can't be sure. There have been a few times when the people we've protected have been sent to the fold. I don't know why they are picked or what happens to them, but I asked once. Sam wouldn't budge, and I don't think it's because he was being stubborn. I think there are aspects of all of this that Sam isn't privy to."
My anxiety filtered through my voice. “How am I supposed to trust these people? I'm expected to get on a plane and travel across the world just because they promise it will all be okay? That isn't enough for me."
"Don't worry.” Sarah attempted to reassure me. “Sam will demand they give an oath before you go. If they break it, they will be declared enemies of his pack and all the other packs he's linked to. They are not irresponsible enough to even fathom such a thing, not even for Luca DeViard's daughter. They are all about self preservation, Emma. Otherwise, they'd never send us to look after their families."
"Have you ever met one?” I asked curiously.
"I've met several common vampires when I went to the pack gathering in Biloxi. They were amiable, easy to talk to. Truebloods, however, are a totally different story—very standoffish and snobby. They don't like to be around anyone that isn't of pureblood.” Her tone didn't match her polite expression as she continued, “The first time I met Trent Balman, I wanted to rip him apart. Of course, he attempts to be more pleasant now."
"How did you start working together?"
"It's a long standing thing. Sam took over just as his Alpha before him did. It's our line of work, dating back hundreds of years."
The water to the shower stopped and Sarah rose from the bed. “Everything will be fine, Emma. I know it will."
"Thanks Sarah, I'm really glad I had the chance to meet you."
We smiled at one another and she walked back out, returning to Derek's room. I pictured her crawling back into the bed, nestling close to Derek.
Beads of water trailed down Caleb's neck when he appeared, fluffing a towel briskly across his hair. He was completely dressed, in the same clothing he'd worn the first day we met. Indistinct black t-shirt, blue jeans, and his scuff marked combat boots.
At least I didn't feel self conscious about my own attire. I decided to wear a green short sleeved blouse with jeans. If we made it home today the temperature would be cooler, far too cool for shorts.
I stood and strode over, his towel dropping to the floor as I reached out for him. I decided to forget about Sam, truebloods, and commons for the moment.
I had more important things to appreciate while they lasted.
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Chapter 17—Blind Spot
We stayed in the room as long as we could, preparing for the trip. I collected the remaining clothing Caleb purchased, as well as a framed picture of him and his family taken a few years back.
I wanted a reminder of what was waiting for me when I returned home.
Sarah and Derek waited on the porch. She was smiling, but her beautiful face was sad. She hugged me, eliciting a promise that I would call if I ever needed anything before slipping a piece of paper into my hand. Derek wasn't his usual self, ill at ease and jumpy. He and Caleb embraced quickly, patting one another on the back.
We loaded into Sam's Cadillac Escalade. No Chevy this road trip. Caleb slid in beside me, lying in the back seat and resting his head in my lap. He confessed he didn't over sleep earlier and had only managed to drift off as the sun came up. I combed my fingers through his hair, watching him when he finally slept, feeling my heart wretch painfully.
Sam had an earpiece he used to make calls as he drove along, chatting away. A few times he got calls that he quickly ended, stating he couldn't talk at the moment. Official pack business, I presumed. He didn't speak to me, but he did peer through the mirrored rearview from time to time.
Perhaps it was the lack of adrenaline or knowing where we were going, but the time passed quickly. We only needed to stop a few times for gas and food, arriving in front of my house in the afternoon. A surge of emotion overcame me upon seeing the brick porch, my trusty grey Honda still parked exactly as I'd left it. Sam pulled onto the curb and we climbed out.
I hurried to one of several potted plants on the porch, reaching under and pulling out the spare key. I would have to replace the locks soon, having lost my original set when I'd left my jacket in the back of the van.
"I'm going to finish up some calls, but I'll be in momentarily,” Sam called to us, dialing on his cell.
Caleb walked onto the porch behind me, following inside when I pried the door open. I slid the key into my jeans for safe keeping.
I started the home tour with Mom's picture. Caleb fawned over it, an incredulous smile on his face. “You say I look like my Dad. I could say the same about you two.” He touched the frame and quickly yanked his hand away.
"Are you okay?” I grabbed his hand, flipping his fingers over and inspecting it closely. The pads were slightly pink and welted.
"It's a silver frame,” he explained, motioning to the picture.
"I'm sorry, I forgot.” I smiled apologetically. “Why is that anyway?"
He shrugged. “It burns our skin. It's slower to heal, too."
We walked up the creaking stairs to my bedroom. Fortunately, everything was where I had left it. There was no underwear thrown over the dresser or dirty laundry left scattered, but the bed was still slightly messy.
Caleb smiled at the pool trophies displayed on the shelf, walking across the room to take a closer look. I used the opportunity to start packing necessities, starting with my clothes and working my way to the toiletries. I
made sure to pack a little of everything. I still had no idea where I was going or how long I was going to be there.
I hoped Trent showed himself soon, I had too many questions to ask.
By the time I finished, it was well into the afternoon. I told Caleb we needed to go soon if we expected to see my Grandmother—visiting hours didn't extend past seven o'clock.
I left my bags, leading him back down the stairs and through the house. Sam was exactly where we'd left him, talking on the phone, circling the front lawn. He pressed a button, leaving his ear piece attached, waiting for us to approach.
"We're going to see her Grandmother now, if that's not a problem."
"None at all.” Sam tossed Caleb the keys. “Take the caddy. I'll go inside, if you don't mind. I'm still ironing out the kinks."
"Please, help yourself,” I offered hospitably, smiling.
The drive to Franklin Place residential community was relatively short. The building only a few miles away, located directly in the center of town. It was a new facility, recently added to our township. Caleb pulled into the front parking lot, parking the expensive SUV in an open slot.
Guilt washed over me. It had been over a month since I last visited. I shook off the weight, opening the door and climbing out.
"This way.” I pointed toward the double doors in the front.
Caleb walked beside me, resting his hand possessively against my lower back, and I grinned. In a small town like Big Falls, there would be talk. Did you hear about Emma Johnson and the tall, dark, and handsome stranger? No? She came to visit her Grandmother at Franklin and he came with her.
My ears were already burning.
We checked in at the front desk, greeted by a new receptionist. The staff here was composed of the old timers and the constantly fluctuating newbies. It wasn't an easy job, especially if you became attached to the residents.
Grandma's room was in the same spot on the second floor, middle of the hallway, on the left.
I knocked on the door, staring at the light glowing from the narrow slit under the frame that indicated she was awake.
"Come in."
"Hi,” I said softly, pushing the door open and walking in. I didn't introduce myself or offer my name. Sometimes it made things worse. I waited for her to either recognize me or to ask why I'd come to visit.
"Well, hello. Can I help you?” she asked sweetly.
Grandma looked absolutely the same. Tightly coiled gray curls covered her head, light sky blue eyes shining. Her room hadn't changed either. A few framed paintings hung on the walls, all of them landscapes. She wasn't allowed pictures of me or her family. Oftentimes, they caused more harm than good.
"We volunteer at the hospital and wanted to come by and see if you needed anything."
I decided on the same guise I'd used time and time again. It was safe, solid, and reliable. If she happened to remember me, she would think I volunteered. If not, it was the same thing.
"Oh that's sweet, dear.” She shook her curly head. “But I'm afraid I have plans. My granddaughter Emmaline is coming to visit today."
My voice caught in my throat. This was always the worst part. She knew my name but not my face. Bitter tears burned my eyes and I inhaled a ragged breath, forcing the blurry liquid back.
"Oh, that's nice. Would you like us to wait with you until she arrives?” My voice cracked and Caleb's hand rubbed my back comfortingly.
"Wait for whom, dear?” she asked, frowning in confusion.
It's a really bad day.
She'd deteriorated since the last time I visited, just as I'd been warned she would. The memories were there under the surface, she just didn't have the power to recall them.
It is like a beautiful sunset you see once in your life, one you swear you will never forget as long as you live. And you never do forget, but you never have a reason to restore the memory—so it remains hidden inside. Until one day, for no apparent reason, you remember that sunset. You recall the way your skin felt as the sun brushed across it, the way the colors painted the sky. You wonder why it took you so long to go back to that place again, swearing you won't take so long next time. Only you do forget the memory and you may or may not ever relive it again.
That's what Grandma's illness did. It cleared those memories from the forefront, putting them into a locked storage container, only allowing minor glimpses of the past from time to time.
She started to panic and I pushed Caleb behind me. She didn't recognize me. She only saw two strangers in her room, having no idea how they had gotten there or what they wanted. I didn't want to upset or distress her.
"I'm sorry, wrong room.” I smiled, fighting back tears, ushering Caleb into the hallway.
Caleb tried to comfort me as we left the building, keeping his warm arm around my shoulders, whispering soft words I couldn't quite make out. As we drove home he tried to bring me out of my stupor but I didn't want to talk about it. I assured him I just needed a few minutes to collect myself.
The sun had long since set, glowing streetlights changing from antique to the more modern ones as we left town. By the time we arrived at the house, I was almost myself again—almost. It was never easy returning home after a bad trip to Franklin, but knowing I wasn't alone helped.
"Come in here please,” Sam called out when we came through the door, waiting until we rounded the corner to the kitchen to continue. “So, the good news is Trent will be here shortly. I've told him in no uncertain terms we will speak to you together. If you're uncomfortable in any way you will stay here, end of story."
"That sounds good.” I nodded, trying to be upbeat.
"And the bad news, I'm starving and your kitchen is empty. Where can we get some decent food, pronto?"
I laughed, concentrating. “What do you like? We have a pizza place. And I have a menu for Joe's cafe, if you'd like to see what they offer. Unfortunately, we haven't evolved to fast food yet."
Sam decided to go with Joe's, phoning in an order large enough to feed a small army. I was grateful that Sam asked Caleb to come along, hinting that they had important matters to discuss.
I needed time alone to think; I wanted some space to rationalize things on my own.
I stood at the window, watching the Cadillac pull from the curb as they drove away, driving into town. The red break lights faded down the dark street and I sighed, turning to the picture on the antique desk.
I smiled at the image of my Mom, touching the fragile glass before tucking the frame under my arm to bring along on the trip. I hurried into the kitchen, popping open the fridge and snagging a coke off the bottom shelf. I whipped up the stairs, my mind a whirl of questions and thoughts, placing the coke on my nightstand and plopping the frame onto the mattress.
The force that came from behind smashed me into the bathroom door, the wooden frame crashing into my sternum and forcing air from my lungs. I fell to my knees, trying to breathe, gasping in tattered breaths. Strands of thick hair covered my face, making it almost impossible to see.
Brown steel toed boots became visible through the long hair and I lifted my head, staring at jeans, a black t-shirt...
Oh god no.
"Not so high and mighty now."
His obsidian eyes hadn't changed since the meadow. The black irises seemed to burn from within, red flames glowing inside the pools of ebony, his thin lips flat and menacing.
I couldn't formulate words, my breathing too ragged, lungs barely drawing air. He knelt, reaching for my hair, and I recoiled, hindered by the wall at my back. He lifted a strand to his nose and inhaled, his lips curving into a terrifying smile.
"I knew it,” he proclaimed excitedly.
He rose effortlessly to his feet, walking in a small circle and turning back to me.
"They will be back,” I managed to speak in a raspy and weak voice.
The bones in my chest burned from the impact with the doorframe, throbbing relentlessly, each syllable held painfully in my throat. My body protested my feeble attempts to
move, providing agony as a reminder of the inflicted injury.
"I'm sure they will. In fact, I'm counting on it,” he taunted, smiling pleasantly all the while. He appeared more sinister in his friendliness, dementedly cordial. “And by the time it's over, I'll be long gone. They want to give you some time alone. I heard them myself."
He paced back and forth, stalking me with his eyes inside the small bedroom. The walls closed in and surrounded me like a cage, creating an inescapable cocoon as claustrophobia took root.
His eyes glowed like flaming embers, black, gold, then yellow. The scar on his face was harsher, twisting and distorting. The thin piece of healed skin seemed to stretch like a separate entity on his face—alive, dangerous and aware.
"Why are you doing this?” I asked quietly, averting my gaze and staring at the carpet. My fingers wound inside the synthetic fibers, digging in, cementing the reality of my nightmare.
"Because this is too good to pass up, Caleb never saw it coming. And most importantly.” He growled deep in his throat, cackling exuberantly. “Because I can."
Fingers twined in my hair, the other set ruthlessly grasping my throat. I felt my airway going as he lifted me off the ground, blocking oxygen completely. My hands came up and I clawed feebly at his skin, trying to find leverage to breathe. He twisted his head, a wicked smile crossing his lips at my efforts.
My stomach somersaulted when he flung me across the bed and into the wall. The shelf collapsed onto my shoulders, trophies tumbling freely onto my back. I shook my head from side to side, pushing onto my elbows and dragging myself across the soft carpet. I managed to balance my weight on trembling hands and knees, attempting to make it to my feet.
"Good girl,” Parker crooned softly, clucking his tongue and pointing at his feet. “Crawl to me."
I grimaced and attempted to stand, reaching with shaking hands to feel for the wall. The back of my head was aching, each pounding throb bringing forth a new gush of wetness into my scalp. The strands were sticky, and when I reached behind to access the damage, my palm and fingers came away covered in bright red blood.
