by Regan Claire
“That was amazing. What is it called again?”
Sile turns the bottle so I can see the small label, which looks like it is handwritten.
“Nectar? That’s appropriate.”
I want another glass, but I don’t want to be rude and ask for it. Luckily Sile doesn’t need me to, and pours me another one even though he and Eros have only had one tiny sip of theirs.
“See, she’s thirsty for it. Drink up sugar-britches. I have plenty for you.”
I drink another two shots and am halfway through my third when I just don’t feel as thirsty as I did. I put down the glass still half full.
“More?” Sile asks. He and Eros finished their little glass, but never filled it up again.
I shake my head. “No, I think I’ve had enough. I never drink this much.” Oh goodness, there’s a reason I never drink heavily. Am I drunk now? I don’t feel like I am. I do have a buzz, but not the type that I would associate with drinking. More like the type of buzz I get after really good sex.
Or a hot makeout session with Rhys.
I look at the little glass again, with its light amber liquid. It looks a bit swirly.
“Don’t worry, this stuff won’t mess you up unless you drink a lot more than what I have in this little bottle. Let me put it away before the vultures start paying attention to what I have over here,” Sile says, but I’m not so sure about that. I feel something, that’s for sure, just not drunk.
Sile puts the cork back onto the bottle, then leaves with it to put it away. I watch him walk to the other side of the bar, and see a familiar figure walk through the front door. I shrink back against the wall.
“Eros, get in front of me.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s just…it’s Rhys, and with everything that’s gone on over the last couple of days, I’ve kinda been ignoring his texts.”
He’s not listening to me, because as soon as I say the name “Rhys,” he’s standing up from his stool and waving the man over. Rhys sees him immediately and comes over.
“April, what are you doing here?” He stands close to me.
“We had a bit of an adventure today. We both needed a drink. Luckily we were in the neighborhood,” Eros answers for me.
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you. Are you okay? The cops came by and asked me some questions about Mick and your name came up. I told them there was no way you had anything to do with it but…” he stops talking.
Why does it feel so good for him to stand so near? I close my eyes and lean towards him, soaking up the energy that he emits.
“What are you doing?” he asks. “Did you give her nectar? Here? Eros, look around!” He must have seen the half glass on the bar in front of me. I open my eyes and sit back up. His energy has shifted, and while it’s still so tasty, it has a hard edge to it that shocks me enough to pay attention.
“I’ll never get used to seeing you worry like this, Rhys. She’s fine, we’re both right here, and you know Sile keeps a tight rein on his bar.”
“I’m not just worried about her. Look what she’s doing.”
Nectar won’t mess me up? Yeah right. I can’t follow what they’re saying. Rhys being so close is distracting, but now that I’m able to pull away a few inches, I notice that my tendrils of power are spreading out.
Shit.
“I think I need to splash some cold water on my face,” I tell them, then stand up and head in the direction I hope the bathroom is. My power is spreading further out, and even though I keep my head down as I walk toward the back, I can see in my peripherals heads turning as I walk by. Get hold of yourself, April. Nearly bumping into Sile on my way past him, I halfway jog down a dingy hallway where the bathroom is located. Normally I wouldn’t step foot in a restroom that looks worse than a porta-potty, but since I’m not in here to use the facilities, I choose to ignore the black hole of a toilet and zero in on the sink, which luckily is in perfect working condition, even if it’s not in the most sanitary one.
I do exactly what I said, and splash cold water on my face. Good thing my mascara is waterproof, though that’s the least of my problems right now. I really need to sober up. I give my cheeks a little pat, hoping that will help. The problem isn’t that I need to sober up, it’s that I don’t even feel drunk. I have better control than this and I don’t know what is happening to me right now. Something about that drink….
Come on April, you can do this. Rein it in. I focus on my breathing and tell myself that every inhale I’ll be sucking my power back to me with the air that I fill my lungs with. It takes a lot of breathing, but eventually I have things back in order. I look at myself in the foggy dusty mirror. What is happening to me? Why are my powers acting haywire? Why does it feel like Rhys and Eros, and even Sile, know more about me than I do?
Most of all, why don’t I want to ask any of the questions that might give me the answers I need?
Now that I’m sure my powers are back in check, I leave the bathroom. There’s someone waiting outside, and I mumble an apology for taking so long. I was in there so long, he probably thought I was having stomach problems. I try to walk past, but he grabs me before I get too far.
“Where are you going, sweet stuff?” he asks. I try to pull my arm out of his grasp, but he’s too strong.
“I have to go,” I say, my brain unable to come up with something sassy enough to shock him into dropping my arm.
“Come on. I thought you were a fun-times girl. Let’s have a fun time.” He pushes me against the wall, leans in close and rubs his cheek against mine like some pervy cat-man.
Did he really just put his face on me? Did he call me a fun-time girl? What the actual eff.
“Let me go!” I push against him.
“Don’t act like you’re not dying to give it to me. I know who you are. This is what you do, right?” His eyes rake down over my body, lingering far too long reading the nonexistent words on my t-shirt.
I see red. I could try to use my power to control him but I’m afraid I won’t be able to put my powers away again if I pull them out right now.
So I kick him in the nuts, then punch him in the nose when his hands drop down to hold himself.
I push past him and almost run into Rhys, rubbing the spot on my wrist where douche-dude had just held me. The bruises from before had faded just enough not to be noticeable, too. Just my luck.
“Are you okay?” he asks in a voice considerably lower than what I’m used to hearing from him.
“Yeah, I’m fine. That turd had a bad idea and was stupid enough to try and act on it.” I look back at the guy, who looks absolutely terrified, huddled into the corner. Good, he should be scared of me. I’m still glad to see that Rhys came to check on me. Even though I handled the situation without him, it’s nice to know he would have been my knight in shining armor if I had needed him.
“He tried to hurt you?”
“Yeah, but I took care—.”
I don’t get a chance to say anything else, because Rhys isn’t in front of me anymore. He’s behind me, holding the turd by the front of his shirt with one hand and punching with the other.
A wave of something, I don’t know what, explodes out from Rhys, so strong I can almost see it burst out like the blowback from an explosion. It feels like… it feels like violence and rage and I take a step back, and another, and still Rhys is beating the guy even though there’s no way he’s still conscious. The way he looks right now is indescribable. He is like an animal. I hear an angry yell behind me, and turn in time to see a fight break out in the bar area when one guy grabs another man by the back of the head and slams him face-first into the table they were sharing.
I hear a smash coming from Rhys, and turn to see the man who accosted me slumped on the floor beneath a man-shaped dent in the wall. Rhys is breathing heavily, his back facing me. I stumble backwards.
Someone grabs me from behind. “You feel so good,” a man says, an all too familiar look in his face.
Crappola,
my power leaked back out and I didn’t even notice it and now I’m in the middle of what is quickly becoming an all-out bar brawl.
I barely have time to register that I’ve been grabbed before the man is physically pulled off of me and thrown ten feet through the air, crashing through a table on his way down to the floor. Rhys is standing next to me, and feral is the only word that comes to mind to describe what I’m looking at. He has hidden this side of himself, this part that’s dangerous. I knew that he was dangerous, but nothing like this. This is the rage of a man capable of any type of evil. Capable of murder, even. Waves of my power start pulsing out. I can’t control it. I can’t even make myself blink right now, let alone breathe my power back where it belongs inside me.
Another guy comes up, the same blank look in his face. Rhys does some sort of motion that ends up flipping the guy.
I don’t understand what is happening. Sile and Eros are suddenly by my side.
“Can you stop him?” I hear Sile ask Eros, clearly talking about Rhys.
“There’s only one person who’s strong enough to get through to him when he’s like this.”
They both look at me, probably because I’m hyperventilating. The violence around me is visceral. I can feel it radiating from Rhys, and the more of it I feel, the more my power slips away from me.
“What do you think, April?” Eros asks.
Think? Think about what? I can’t think right now.
“Eros, she’s making it worse. You need to get her out of here. She can’t do anything the way she is right now.”
That shocks me enough that I no longer feel rooted to the floor, and start heading to the door. Leaving sounds like exactly what needs to happen. A few people try to grab me as I do, but Eros is close behind and sweeps them away before anyone gets to me. Once I reach the door I take one last look at the scene. Sile is back behind the bar, pouring himself a drink. Rhys is still fighting in the middle of the room, like the eye of a hurricane, like the melee of a battle.
I pretty much run to the car once we’re outside. Eros turns the engine on, but doesn’t pull out immediately.
“About Rhys.”
I close my eyes. I don’t want to talk about Rhys. I’m still shaking from seeing Rhys in action.
“He wasn’t himself. Well, not all the way. It’s hard to explain.” He sighs. “I think it’s time we talk.”
I shake my head no. I don’t want to talk.
“You can’t keep your head buried in the sand forever. You’re too smart not to know something is up.”
I do know something is up, but dammit does it have to be today? Hasn’t it been long enough? Hard enough?
“I’m not asking for forever. I don’t think I can handle anything else today. I need—just give me time to think about things. We’ll talk tomorrow, I promise. ”
He responds by pulling out of the parking spot and doesn’t say anything until we’re close to my apartment. I don’t look at him. I feel ashamed, like I’ve let him down.
“Tomorrow, April. Ignorance is dangerous when you live in the world we live in. Think about your questions, because I know you have them. And try not to think too hard about the things you saw today. You’ve been through worse; you can handle this.”
Have I handled worse? I’m not so sure. We’re back to my place now, and I’m glad.
“I’ll do what I can,” I say while opening the car door. I make myself walk slowly away from the car, but once I’m halfway up the stairs I start taking two at a time, then run inside my apartment. I lock the door, then shove my recliner in front of it, not even bothering to remove the TV. I go to my medicine cabinet and take two nighttime headache pills before grabbing the biggest blanket I have to wrap myself burrito-style, and curl up on my couch to wait for the medicine to kick in.
I don’t have a headache, but I don’t want to be awake right now. I don’t want to think about the things I need to think about, like why it feels as if other people not only know about my abilities, but maybe have some of their own. Or how there’s a psycho out there killing people who are connected to me.
And that I now know that Rhys is more than capable of the level of violence needed to commit murder. I could see it in his face. I could sense it in his heart.
That’s something I’ll think about tomorrow. Tonight…
Tonight I’m going to sleep and pray that the world makes more sense when I wake up again.
Needs a Picnic
I wake up groggy, the way you do after a semi-medicated sleep. I slept so hard, I didn’t even dream. My mouth feels like sludge, so I unwrap myself from my twisted blanket and chug a glass of water.
It’s not until I look at my phone and see a number of missed calls and texts that I remember what happened the day before.
The dead body. The weird effects of that drink. The fight where Rhys looked like a man at war in the middle of a bar.
I listen to the voicemail first.
“It’s Detective Polias—” I hang up before the rest of the message can play. I can’t handle thinking about my suspect status.
My hands shake while I pull up Eros’s texts next. I can’t handle talking to Rhys either. In fact, I think the best bet would be to tell the detective about what I saw.
Maybe I will call her back, if only to point my finger at someone else.
I read over Eros’s texts. The first one was sent at about eight a.m. and another one every thirty minutes after that on the dot.
Eros: Text me when you wake up, April.
Eros: I don’t think this conversation should wait any longer.
Eros: You can’t chicken out, you promised.
Eros: April, if you don’t text me back soon I’m coming over.
I take a deep breath and text back.
~I just woke up.
Eros: You’re lucky I couldn’t find my car keys.
~Sorry, I just needed the sleep apparently.
Eros: I get it. What time do you want to meet up? I’m free now.
I take a deep breath. There’s no more delaying this. I start writing a message back, but before my fingers can type anything out a new message arrives from an unknown number.
*I hope it’s okay I got your number from Cora. I just want to confirm that you’re coming today.
Confirm what?
*This is Smith btw.
Oh. Oh yeah. The barbecue. I promised Eros we’d talk, but I forgot I already made plans. It would be wrong to cancel at the last minute. Besides, I just promised Eros we would talk today. A barbecue won’t last the entire day. We can talk later after I’m done. That should be fine, right? Yeah. A sense of relief washes over me.
~Yes I still plan on coming. What time do you want to meet at work?
Smith: Can you be there in 45 mins? That way we can arrive by 11.
I check the time and wince. I can’t believe I slept this late.
~Yeah, see you then.
~Uh, should I bring anything?
Smith: Just your beautiful smile.
~I’ll remember to pack it.
Now I just need to text Eros and let him know.
~Hey, I forgot that I promised I’d go to a cookout with people from work. Can we get together later today?
Maybe he already has plans for later today and we’ll have to postpone our talk until tomorrow. He responds immediately.
Eros: With whom from work? April, I think we should talk before you go. There are things you really need to know.
~I’ll call when I’m done.
He calls immediately after I hit send, but I mute his call, then my phone, and hop in the shower. Guilt is churning in my stomach, but I ignore it, the same way I ignore the voicemail he leaves.
I tell myself he’s overreacting. Nothing that has waited this long can’t wait another few hours, no biggie.
I get ready quickly and throw my phone in my purse, purposely not looking at whatever messages I may have gotten while in the shower, and leave. Not that I’m leaving quickly in case Eros de
cides to come by my place before I can go, or anything like that.
There’s time before I have to meet Smith, so I decide to splurge on some iced coffee from my favorite donut chain, and since I have money on my account, I’m technically still sticking to my budget. I don’t have enough to get a donut or anything else that counts as food, but I’m counting on the coffee to curb my appetite until we get to the barbecue. Free food is absolutely in my budget.
Even though I’m still about five minutes early to meet Smith, he’s already in the parking lot when I pull in. I roll down my window and pull up beside him.
“And I thought I was early! I wish I’d known you were here early, I wouldn’t have stopped for coffee on my way.”
“You’re still early. I guess I was excited and didn’t check the time when I got in the car, but I haven’t been waiting for long.”
“Okay, good. Should we head out?”
“Yeah. It’s about twenty minutes out and not as complicated as Cora made it seem. There’s just nothing else around, so people always think they’re going the wrong way and GPS doesn’t work too well.”
“Gotcha. Lead the way.”
We both roll up our windows and Smith pulls out. He’s an easy person to follow. Doesn’t go too fast, always uses his blinker, and stops when the light turns yellow so I don’t have to make the decision to run a red light in order to keep up. I keep the music up loud, hoping the noise will help drown out any errant thoughts, and it’s semi-successful.
Around ten minutes of driving later, the scenery does an even better job of keeping my mind occupied. It’s beautiful, and not because we’re driving along the coast. When I think of a coastal area, I think the only beauty would come from the ocean. I was wrong. It’s still wet, but there’s beauty marsh country, with dappled sunlight reaching through the trees. Smith also under estimated our drive time, because it is exactly twenty-eight minutes before we pull into the driveway of a fantastic home surrounded by oak trees. Well, it isn’t technically the driveway, since that is already full of cars. We pull into the front yard, but any misgivings I have about doing that are squashed when I see we aren’t the first two cars to do so.
