by Lisa Kessler
The moment the sun dipped into the ocean, Colin pulled in a slow breath and opened his eyes. He stretched his arms and groaned when he noticed the damage to his left arm. It still startled him to see the scars, the indentation where his bicep should be. Would he ever grow accustomed to his deformity?
He rubbed his hands down his face, rising from his bed. His daytime sanctuary rested below the basement of his house. Only Bartley and Claire knew the exact location. Since the sunlight stole the life from his body each day, it left him defenseless, a shell. Unable to move or defend himself, secrecy was the best protection.
In the small washroom, he showered and got dressed. For the first time in centuries, he was hurrying. Tonight he was meeting Juliana.
Even though he had no business spending time with her, even though there was no room for romantic attachments in his world, she tempted him and she could help him. He’d never age, never die, left behind to mourn for eternity, but he wasn’t meeting her to fall in love or forge a relationship.
Somehow Juliana had survived a huge loss. And as far as he could tell, she’d banished any bitterness about it. He wanted her secret, needed it to keep going on. Since the Night Demon had left him a shell of his former self, he’d become a stranger in the mirror. He was not the same Night Walker that enjoyed his immortal life, quick to laugh, and carried smile lines in his ageless skin.
He didn’t recognize this new incarnation, the one who kept his weakness hidden under heavy coats and had to force himself to interact with the world. The allure of drowning in resentment and fading away from this world was growing.
But Juliana held a secret in her heart. Somehow she’d resisted succumbing to the anger, and once he discovered how, he would step back from her life before either of them formed any attachment.
He climbed the stairs and entered through the back of the stately house.
“Good evenin’, Colin,” Claire chirped from the kitchen. “Bartley tells me yer meetin’ a lady friend tonight.”
Colin rolled his eyes, reaching for his coat. “Word travels fast in this town.”
“Harmless talk.” She came around the corner, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “Just happy to see ya gettin’ out there. About time ya started socializin’.”
“I’ve got nothing to be social about.” He moved to the door but not quickly enough to avoid seeing the hurt in Claire’s eyes. Sighing, he turned back. She had a willowy figure with a dreamy smile, more like a watercolor painting than a person, and he hated disappointing her. She had worked for him since she was a teenager and was like a sister to him.
“Sorry,” he said. “Not feelin’ much like myself these days.”
“Wish there was somethin’ we could do to help.”
“Me, too.” He raised his hand in a quick goodbye and slipped out into the night.
Colin hunted at the docks, feeding quickly without killing either of the men he found. Neither of them was a criminal—he’d entered their minds first to find out—so he fed without stopping their hearts and mesmerized each one. They wouldn’t remember seeing him, only feel the pounding headache and a hunger for red meat.
His skin warmed from the influx of fresh blood. With his hands in his pockets, he walked toward Juliana’s flower shop, ignoring the desire to rush. He needed information and did his best to banish memories of her smile and the way her dark eyes sparked with energy before she jotted notes on her pad.
How would she react if he told her they didn’t need her notepad to communicate? He ground his teeth. There was no future in these thoughts. She would never know about his abilities. And unlike the previous evening, tonight he wouldn’t hesitate to trespass into her mind, no reason to prolong contact with the mortal woman when he could easily learn her secret.
He approached her shop and stopped outside. She stood behind the counter, engrossed in a project. Beside her sat a cup with filled with roses and tulips. She lifted her hands, her fingers deftly making folds while she inspected the bloom. Satisfied, she placed it in the cup with the others and retrieved another sheet of paper.
Paper flowers.
Why would a florist, surrounded by fresh cut flowers, make paper flowers? Shaking his head, he reminded himself he had a goal tonight, a purpose. The challenge would be to keep that goal in mind when this woman distracted him.
He walked up the flower-lined path and pulled open the door. She lifted gaze, and the joy in her grin disarmed him. She held up her notepad. Is it 6:30 already?
The coquettish glint in her eyes coaxed an unexpected laugh from his throat.
He tipped his head. “I thought it would never get here.”
Color crept up her neck, and he reached for her thoughts. I hope I’m not blushing. He has no business knowing how long it’s been since I had a date.
Instead of probing for more information and memories about her recovery from losing her hearing, Colin closed the mental connection, resisting the urge to apologize for the intrusion. She’d never realize he heard her thoughts, and he had no intention of invading her mind without her knowledge again. Even if it was easier.
Something about her demanded his respect. Learning how she did it would take longer than he’d anticipated. He’d need to actually get to know her.
And a larger part of him than he wanted to admit looked forward to it.
Benedict turned the corner to the flower shop and froze when he looked in the window. Juliana was not alone. Colin, the Night Walker, stood at the counter, chatting. The Mayan bastard had returned to the island. Did he know Benedict was reclaiming this territory?
Not that it mattered. He’d fed on enough human lives now to replenish his strength. He could face the Night Walker, and this time, he would be the victor.
He wondered what led the night Walker to this flower shop—coincidence or fate?
Benedict chose to believe fate. Finally the injustice brought about by the Night Walker would be righted. Watching through the window, he remained hidden. For now, he would bide his time. Clarity would come, and fate’s plan would reveal itself.
Eventually.
And he had all the time in the world.
She untied her apron and stowed it under the counter. When she straightened, Colin was running his fingers along the edges of her paper flowers.
“These are amazing.”
Grabbing her pen, she jotted, They’re immortal.
He jolted upright after reading her words, confusion lining his face. “Come again?”
The color will fade eventually, but these flowers never wilt or die. Immortal.
He chuckled, relaxing. “I can relate to the fading part.”
She rolled her eyes. Oh please, you look plenty vibrant.
For a moment, sadness shadowed his features. He moved toward the door, and she waited. Often people forgot that if they turned away from her, lip reading became impossible. He glanced back, realization dawning. “Bugger me.” He shook his head. “Forgive me. I asked if you were hungry.”
Juliana nodded, hoping her stomach wasn’t grumbling in answer for her.
“Shall we walk to the Bridled Pony?”
She cringed. No. Muriel would never leave us alone. She smiled and added to her note. I know a quiet place not far from here. They have wonderful shepherd’s pie.
“Lead the way.”
She locked up the store and walked alongside Colin, enjoying the crisp night air. Normally, she kept a brisk pace. The café was just a couple of blocks away, a quick trip on foot, but having Colin this close made her hyperaware of every step, slowing her. It was probably best she couldn’t write and walk at the same time or she’d be scribbling all kinds of meaningless notes.
The lights of the café beckoned across the street. Juliana checked for traffic. Since she’d lost her hearing, watching for cars and trucks was drilled into her by her entire family. Now it was automatic. But the moment she stepped out, Colin’s hand brushed her lower back, guiding her as he kept pace, definitely not something she was used
to.
Her pulse jumped at his steadying touch before her brain kicked in. He was being polite. He’d been raised well. It didn’t mean anything. Colin opened the door and followed her inside. She did her best not to notice the moment his hand left her back. Instead, she reminded herself that she still didn’t know why Colin was pursuing her.
And she intended to find out.
The hostess recognized Juliana and grinned. “Your table is open in the corner.”
Juliana nodded, walking to the familiar table. Usually she ate alone, and sitting with her back to the corner gave her a perfect view of the room. No one could startle her from behind that way. She took her usual chair, and Colin sat across from her.
She pulled out her pad. I know you own Sea Haven, and Bartley speaks highly of you, but I’m curious… She hesitated, stealing a glance at him. With a sigh, she put the pen back to paper. Why did you ask Bartley about me and my shop? If tonight is out of pity for the deaf pianist, we can call it a night right now and save us both some time.
Chapter Four
Pity? Colin stared at her words before meeting her eyes. Did this beautiful, resilient woman truly believe he was only here out of pity?
He shook his head. “I asked Bartley about you because I admired your spirit. You continue to play piano even when you can no longer enjoy the music.”
She sized him up for a moment. I may not “hear” it the same way I used to, but I can feel the vibrations of the chords, and that “sound” brings me joy.
He nodded and cleared his throat as the waitress came over. He ordered food he wouldn’t eat and a Guinness he wouldn’t be able to finish. After the she hurried off, he rested his forearms on the table, leaning closer to her. “You intrigue me.”
One side of her full lips turned up. How so?
“It would be justified for you to be bitter and angry. Yet you choose to keep moving forward in spite of the fate you were handed.”
I was angry. Very angry. She took a sip of her drink and crossed out the last sentence on her pad. Let’s talk about something else. Tell me about your family. Do they live nearby?
He had no idea the lies would need to start so quickly. Another reason it didn’t make sense to forge a relationship with a mortal. But there was no other way to discover her secret, and if his suspicion about the roses was right, Benedict could be one of her customers.
Lying was a necessary evil. If he confessed that he was the Mayan God of the South and even more immortal than her paper flowers, she’d run from the restaurant.
“My three brothers are all I have left in the world.”
Do you see them often?
“No.” He wanted to explain he could reach out to them mentally anytime, but he held the words back. “One of my brothers is in Egypt, one in Paris, and the other is…” In utero. He cleared his throat again. “In San Diego.”
That’s too bad. She glanced his way before writing again. You’re not from Ireland then?
“Not originally.”
Her face brightened as she waved at someone he couldn’t see. Frowning, Colin turned to find Bartley approaching the table. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk to you.” He looked at Colin as he spoke the words.
“Is something wrong at the farm?”
“The farm is fine.” His gaze tracked over to Juliana. “It’s the Bridled Pony I’m worried about.”
Colin tried to keep his expression blank, but only two words came to mind.
The aughisky.
Juliana shot out of her chair, pen in hand. Is Muriel all right? What happened?
Bartley shrugged. “Maybe nothin’?” Worry was plain in his eyes, though. “I got there about five tonight an’ the only person in was old Darby sittin’ at the bar.”
Darby was a regular at her cousin’s pub. His wife had passed away last year after a long battle with cancer. He came to Muriel’s place for the company as much as the alcohol.
She flipped to a clean page on her notepad. Muriel wouldn’t leave the Pony unattended.
Bartley nodded as Colin got to his feet, blocking her view of Bartley’s lips. She groaned and muscled her way between the two tall men. Did she say anything to Darby?
Colin’s arm moved around her, his hand at the small of her back. “I will walk you home. Bartley and I will look for her.”
She stepped away from him, barely noticing the loss of physical contact. Barely. She’s my cousin. I won’t sit at home and wait. Not for either of you.
Colin’s gaze locked on hers, and for just a moment, it was like a fog clouded her mind and all she wanted to do was strike out her refusal and go home like he’d suggested. She glanced down at her notepad, and her head cleared. What was that? Frowning, she rubbed her forehead, welcoming her Irish temper to come roaring forward.
She glared at each of them and stormed out. They probably thought she’d be a good little sheep and stay out of the way. Well, she’d sooner kick their arses than wait at home hopin’ and prayin’ Muriel was safe. Once she got across the street, she broke into a jog.
The Bridled Pony was a few blocks past her house in the other direction, but she arrived at the big wooden door without being too winded. Two faces turned her way when she entered. Darby was still at the bar, and on the other side stood Claire. Juliana had met the woman a couple of times. Occasionally she’d come in with Bartley after they got off work at Sea Haven.
He must’ve asked her to watch the pub while he rushed off to play hero and find her cousin. Juliana strode over to the bar, nodded to Claire, and took the stool beside Darby.
Was Muriel here when you came by?
Darby sat his mug down. “She was tendin’ bar like usual, but this handsome bugger came in, talkin’ sweet. She seemed to like ’im. I made a run to the toilet, an’ when I got back to my barstool, she and the gent were gone. I stayed here to guard the till.”
A burst of cool air caressed Juliana’s neck, and she glanced toward the door. Colin was stepping inside, wasting no time coming to her side while Bartley chatted with Claire. Colin stood close to her, close enough that she caught his scent, but he made no attempt to touch her again. Smart man.
Begrudgingly, she looked up at him.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Running off half-cocked isn’t going to help Muriel.”
Neither is sitting in my house like the poor little deaf girl.
She wrote with so much force, her words were carved into the paper. Perhaps a trace of bitterness still dwelled inside her after all. And he seemed to have a knack for drawing it out.
“I did not ask you to wait at home because you can’t hear.”
Her cheeks flushed with color. Her anger should’ve warned him to keep his distance, but the fire in her eyes only lured him closer.
Oh, so I should stay in my house because I’m a female, then? Hearing or no? Would I slow down your search? She rolled her eyes and added, Just go back to your farm. If I can’t find Muriel myself, I’ll call the police. I won’t be needing your help.
This was his chance to walk away, to put this puzzling woman behind him, and focus on finding Benedict. He glanced at the door, but he had no intention of walking out. He should. But when had what he should do ever mattered to him?
Colin smirked and met her dark eyes. “Forgive me. I did not mean to light a fire under your temper, but I think I can help find your cousin if you allow me the chance.”
He waited her out, aching to peer into her mind. She released an annoyed sigh. Darby said there was a man here, flirting with Muriel, and while he was in the toilet, they left. She paused, meeting his gaze. Muriel would never leave the Pony while she had customers. Something is wrong.
Dammit. He didn’t want his instinct to have been right. He turned to the older man at the bar. “Can you tell me what the gent looked like?”
“Sure.” He nodded, his gaze distant. “He was tall, ’bout your height. Black hair, dark eyes. Handsome fella. Maybe walked outta one of those fancy magazines. Had clean
hands like he never worked an honest day in his life.”
Colin glanced at Bartley, nodding slightly. He focused on Darby again. “Did this man have a drink while he was here?”
“He had a Guinness at that table over there.” He tossed his head to the right.
A single glass remained on the table. Colin approached, careful not to touch it. If the police were going to be involved, he didn’t want his fingerprints on the glass. He leaned down, closing his eyes as he inhaled slowly. The rich scent of the stout assaulted his preternatural senses. Patiently, he took one more breath.
And caught the salty smell of the ocean and fainter still, blood.
He straightened, his pulse racing. If he had dealt with the water horse already, none of this would’ve happened. This was his responsibility. He rotated his left shoulder. Doubt lingered at the edge of his consciousness, taunting him.
Colin spun around, his eyes meeting Juliana’s. “Call the police. They can dust the glass for fingerprints and check the liquid for drugs.”
She frowned. You think he drugged her and carried her out?
The sick bastard wouldn’t need drugs. The hypnotic tone of his voice would be enough to lure Muriel out of her pub without locking up. But he couldn’t tell Juliana that.
Colin shrugged. “It is worth checking.” He stepped close to Bartley, keeping his face turned away from Juliana. “Stay with her and keep her safe. I need to hunt.”
Bartley leaned in closer. “Is it…?”
Colin nodded and focused on Darby again. “I’m afraid we need to close the pub early tonight.”
Darby grabbed his hat from the stool next to him and stood up. “Understood. If there’s anythin’ I can do to help…”
“We’ll let you know. The police might want the guy’s description again.”
Juliana approached, words already written on her notepad. Thanks for watching the till, Darby. When Muriel gets back, she owes you a drink.
