Triquetra

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Triquetra Page 2

by Marguerite Labbe


  Kayla winced. “It’s gonna hurt when he gets squished.”

  “If he gets the first down, he won’t even notice it until after the game is over.” I had to smile at her new interest though I was careful not to let her see it.

  The stadium went wild when the running back found a hole and pounded off toward the end zone, orange-clad warriors chasing after him intent on bringing him down before he reached his goal. I hadn’t seen anybody run with that kind of zeal in a long time, at least not at Pittsburgh. As much as I loved the university, football wasn’t their passion as it was at other campuses. As he neared the end zone, one of Virginia’s players caught up to him. I found myself sitting forward more, willing him over the line. Number twenty-six ducked and dove as fresh screams erupted around me. Touchdown.

  A slow grin passed over my lips as I watched the young running back showboat in a manner that earned him a penalty for unsportsmanlike conduct. It was a ridiculous rule. He was lapping up the adulation of the crowd and his teammates, despite the foul. I was captivated by his unique vitality, a familiar hunger arising as he trotted off the field toward the bench.

  “I’ll be right back.” I stood, impatient to have a closer look, and Kayla watched me go without comment, used to my abrupt departures. I masked my presence, leaving the stands, and slipped into the locker rooms. As I made my way out onto the field I stayed out of the way of the players, under coaches and lackeys so I wouldn’t get bumped into and lose the glamour. The young man was studying the field and I paused at the end of the row of benches to drink him in.

  His golden-brown hair was plastered against his skull, sweat-darkened from his helmet. When he ran a hand through it, it stood up in spiky tufts. I drew closer, mesmerized. He froze, his vivid blue eyes glancing in my direction, sweeping over me, and he frowned. Surprise and awareness jolted deep within me. No one had ever noticed my presence before; not unless I wanted them to.

  “Jacob!”

  He jumped up, distracted from my presence, and tucked his helmet under his arm. “Yeah, Coach?”

  I watched him go off to be praised and reprimanded, my eyes lingering on his form before turning back toward stadium proper. I bought a program at the stand, flipping to his page. Number twenty-six. Jacob Corvin.

  Mine.

  Chapter 2

  “JACOB CORVIN! Jesus, some fucking getaway!” Steve glared at me, shifting the stolen keg in his grip and pushing against my chest with it. He must be really upset to use my full name. Only my mama got away with calling me Jacob.

  The expression of pure exasperation on his dark face was hysterical and I couldn’t help laughing again. My sides ached and my ability to hold up my end of the keg wavered as my muscles turned to water from the force of my laughter.

  “God dammit.” Steve staggered as the balance of the weight shifted to him and I gave up, letting go of the keg to wipe the tears from my eyes. “Jake, you fucker.” Steve grunted. “Tony, it’s your turn. I swear to god, both of you are cut off. This keg’s all mine.”

  “I’m not that drunk,” I protested, still chuckling weakly, but moved out of the way so Tony could grab my end before Steve got a damned hernia from trying to hold it all by himself.

  The crowd jostled around us in a mix of costumes, which was a bit disorienting, like being caught up in a dream. Maybe I shouldn’t have had that last shot of vodka. On the upside, I was warm. I would be freezing my ass off if I was sober. Some clinical detached part of my mind registered the goose bumps on my bare arms and the wind moving right through the thin golden vest and pants I was wearing, but it failed to affect me despite it being the ass end of October in Pittsburgh.

  “You wouldn’t be so paranoid if you’d bothered to put on a costume.” Tony’s fangs gleamed in the lamplight. At least he’d gotten used to talking around them and wasn’t spitting between words anymore, though watching him try to hit on that chick earlier had been funny.

  “So I could look like a putz too? Don’t think so. This black man does not wear a costume.” Steve hefted the keg higher and started making his way through the crowd again.

  “Ah, come on. Why’s it gotta be racial?” I teased, following after my friends. “It’s called fitting in. Going incognito.” My fit of laughter had subsided, though my gut ached. “You’re the only putz out here not dressed up. You’ll kinda stand out if those frat guys spot you, and I hate to tell ya, that don’t count.” I gestured to the slogan on Steve’s T-shirt: This is my costume. Now give me some candy.

  “If they do spot me, it’ll be thanks to you idiots who can’t take five damn steps without breaking into giggles.”

  That did it. Tony and I exchanged glances, his lips twitched around the fangs, and the both of us set off again. Steve swore and lifted his eyes to the sky before nailing us with a glare. “Will you two knock it out?”

  “Sorry, sorry,” Tony said, shifting his grip on the keg. “Won’t happen again.” He stared over Steve’s shoulder in intense concentration, trying to press his lips together but those stupid plastic fangs got in the way. Between Tony’s naturally goofy expression, untidy dark hair, and the fact he was even more hammered than I was, the effect made him look more like Bunnicula on white lightning than Dracula. At least he dumped the cape.

  “We’re lucky we managed to get out of the frat house.” Steve glanced behind him, taking careful steps through the crowd. “It’s the last time I’m ever asking you to be a lookout,” Steve said to Tony, then turned his eyes on me. “And you—”

  “Hey. I held up my end. Of the plan at least, if not the keg.”

  “Until you got distracted!”

  “What can I say? He was hot.” I paused, thinking of the guy I’d been concocting drinks with as Steve was rolling our prize out the back door. Damn, I was a sucker for dark soulful eyes. “Now that I think about it, so was she for that matter.” I wouldn’t have kicked either one of them outta my bed.

  Fellow students moved out of our way as we continued down the sidewalk, several asking where the party was and others offering to help carry the keg. Between all the costumes and the alcohol running through my system, it was a little like trying to make my way through a fun house in a dream.

  “Hey, why don’t we go through the haunted maze at Phipps? I’ve always wanted to do that.” I paused to look in the direction of the observatory.

  “Because, jackass, we don’t have time for side trips and, as it is, I’m gonna end up carrying—” The rest of Steve’s tirade was cut off in another cuss as Tony started snickering again.

  “I can’t remember where the party is. Do either of you?” Tony asked, setting down his burden as Steve let out a squawk of protest and gave up, leaving the keg on the sidewalk as Tony wiped tears from his eyes and he sat down on top of it.

  I don’t know what was fucking funnier, Tony’s question or Steve’s outrage. I shook, laughing silently, holding onto my sides, which were really beginning to ache. Oh God, I had to get myself together before I busted a gut.

  Steve shoved Tony off of his makeshift seat and lifted the keg on his own and began tottering away from us. The fact that he hadn’t said one word, not even to cuss us out, sank in. He was getting pissed. I took off my pharaoh mask and tucked it into the waistband of the flowing pants. “Okay. Wait, Steve. I’m serious now. I’ll help; you’re gonna hurt yourself.” I pressed my lips hard, determined not to laugh again.

  “You’re risking my back more every time you let go of….”

  Steve’s voice fell into the background as I sensed someone watching me again. I froze, my heart hammering as I glanced over my shoulder, even knowing it wouldn’t do a damn bit of good. I wouldn’t see him. I never even caught so much as a glimpse, but instinct won out. Ever since the start of the semester, the football game against Virginia, I knew when he was near and he was close now.

  My eyes scanned through the crowd, dismissing everyone I saw. Somebody in an Alien mask was staring in my direction. Indiana Jones shoved me out of his way. It was non
e of them; too tame. If I ever laid eyes on my dark fallen angel, he’d stand right out. I’d recognize him.

  I wasn’t sure how I recognized that my watcher was a he, only that he was. He was weighing me, studying me, and the effects of the alcohol were swept away by irritation and fear as my eyes searched through the crowd of students, searching for the man who had been hunting me. Tony and Steve liked to joke that it was a NFL scout and it eased the jitters somewhat, when my watcher wasn’t around. I knew he was no damned scout.

  “Jake, Jake!” A rough hand shook my shoulder and I looked up into Steve’s concerned, warm brown eyes. “Is it him?”

  I nodded my head sharply. The sound of Tony’s giggles in the background were out of place and eerie. Steve’s eyes narrowed, his dark face hardening as he searched the crowd as well. “You’ve gotta tell somebody about this man. This is getting ridiculous.” He gave my shoulder a light shove. “Come on. We’re almost there. Let’s get moving and get indoors.”

  “Not like he’s going to try anything out here. Relax.” Somehow I couldn’t bring myself to quite believe that and I could tell Steve wasn’t buying it either. Tony was clueless as always. He was still going on about not knowing where the party was. I don’t think it even registered on his radar that the mood had changed. “Can’t believe you of all people are suggesting I talk to the cops,” I muttered under my breath. I didn’t want an argument.

  My friends were moving again, Steve snapping at me to follow and I dragged my feet, searching the crowd again. I didn’t want to get anyone else involved. My friends knew, but Tony and Steve were different: they were my boys. The cops, or the dean—hell, even my coach—were another matter. There was something deeply private about the connection between me and my watcher, a little erotic, and very intense. I was half in love with him already, as crazy as that sounded.

  As much as it freaked me out at times I didn’t think the guy was out to hurt me.

  The crammed sidewalks thinned and swirled and then opened up, giving me a clear view across the street. Once again I froze, staring at the man standing just under the streetlamp. Oh god. He looked strangely normal in his jeans and cream sweater that set off the rich tone of his skin. The light above created a halo around his head and shoulders. He almost could’ve been a young working man, trying to relive his college days, but the dangerous aura around him was obvious. He was no damned angel.

  And I wasn’t the only one who sensed it. His sidewalk was as crowded as mine, with drunken students trolling the avenues, searching for a party and showing off their costumes, yet as one they all parted and flowed around him. No one came close enough to jostle him, no one told him to get out of the way, as people were bitching to me. No, he was a predator. He was the predator and I was his prey.

  I should be scared. Forget scared. I should be outta my mind, shitting my pants like the time the gator got onto the pontoon while my friend and I were collecting crawfish traps. However, the last thing I was capable of feeling right now was fear.

  Enthralled, I stepped to the edge of the curb, barely registering the cars going by, as I drank him in as if I were dying and he was the last thread connecting me to this life. It was hard to make out the details of his face, but his skin was golden, his body long and lean. His eyes bored right into me and I imagined they were that shade of brown that was so deep it was like you were sinking right into them. His head was shaved and, for some reason, I couldn’t quite pin his race down. It was like he could claim any number of ethnicities, or maybe something else, long since gone.

  He was more darkly striking than the moonlight on the bayou back home, or the haunting song of the cicadas, or whatever else made me think of beauty, danger, and sorrow at once.

  The punch of lust that hit me was overwhelming. He was a sin begging to be explored and with no guilt to be confessed to my priest afterward. I had been in some pretty tight spots growing up and none of them had scared me as much as this one did. He was a dangerous temptation and I was about 2.5 seconds from stalking across the street and kissing him.

  I thought I heard Steve shouting my name. They probably lost me in the crowd and, knowing my friend, he was going to be freaking out. I couldn’t tear my eyes away to respond though. My watcher had been stalking me for months and instead of doing the sane thing and decking him or shouting for Steve so we could bum-rush him together, I was thinking about what I had to do to get him into my bed. I didn’t even know his name.

  As if sensing my thoughts, the other man smiled. It was a slow, predatory curving of his lips and even as the shudder slid over my skin it didn’t do a damn thing to dampen my desire. My heart lurched up into my throat; my lungs froze.

  Oh shit, he’s not human.

  There was nothing about his appearance that made me realize it. Maybe it was his aura, the way nobody else around him would touch him. Or maybe it was the brush of awareness not my own across my thoughts, or the caress of fingers across my soul. I couldn’t say how I knew he was a vampire. I just did. This was the man who had been hunting me and holy Jesus, I was going to cave.

  Faces blurred around me as I bolted through the crowd. I could hear people shouting and cursing in my wake, but I didn’t slow as I darted around them or shoved them aside. Icy cold sweat trickled down my face. The stupid costume was half falling off of me. Even as I ran I knew it wasn’t going to do me a damn bit of good. I still sensed him. He was there, always there. He was a fucking vampire who for whatever reason wanted me and I wanted him just as much in return.

  I kept looking over my shoulder expecting to see him right behind me, but too many people blocked my vision. By the time I skidded around the corner to my street I’d left most everyone behind and my legs were shaking. Great. I was a fucking genius. Now I was all alone.

  My heart was pounding right out of my chest and there was a vicious stitch in my side. I paused as I reached my apartment building and yanked out the keys. The street was empty behind me. There was no sound, no more eyes on me. The sense of his presence was all but gone. I should’ve felt safe yet I knew I was never going to be alone again.

  An orange alley cat gave me a disdainful sniff and slunk around the corner. Trying to catch my breath I unlocked the door and entered my building. Oh God, what was I gonna do now? My terror was subsiding and all I could do was think about his face. I wanted to see him closer up, wished I knew his name.

  I was so fucked.

  Chapter 3

  I HEARD Kayla’s light step before she opened the door to my private room. A pile of books sat on the table next to my chair and more were in my lap. The pad of paper balancing on the arm of my recliner was cursedly empty. The more I researched, the fewer answers I found, and the questions were piling up higher.

  Kayla paused next to me and I glanced up, my brows furrowing. “Is it that late already?” A headache pulsed between my temples and I attempted to will it away.

  “Where has your sense of time gotten to, Kris?” Kayla leaned over and planted a kiss on top of my head. “You need a break. Why don’t you get out and go check on your boy toy?”

  “Very amusing.” My glare had no effect on her as she grinned impishly back at me. “I thought you said to give him some space.”

  “Hanging outside his bedroom window does not constitute giving him space.” Kayla gently slapped me on the back of my head. “Get over your caveman days and learn how to date like a normal person.”

  “Child….”

  Kayla’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t call me child.”

  “Don’t smack me in the back of my head.” I gave her a level look right back. “Jacob knows what I am and that I want him. And from the show he’s been putting on lately, he doesn’t seem to mind my visits. But it’s his move now. When he’s ready, he’ll invite me in.”

  “Please, I don’t want to hear anymore about your private voyeur-exhibitionist parties, if that’s what you’re hinting at.” She wrinkled her nose. “You got another letter from that group in Rome. Are you going to resp
ond this time?”

  “Throw it away.” I turned my attention back to the diary in my lap and frowned, setting it aside in favor of another volume on my lap.

  Kayla sat on the arm of my chair, nudging aside the paper, and I snatched up the pen before it could roll off onto the floor. “Who are they? They seem persistent.”

  “They are an annoyance I don’t have time for at the moment.” I shot her another glance, my lips tightening as she took the book out of my hands and started flipping through it. Obviously, she did not get the hint. “Like some others I could name.”

  “Be nice,” Kayla murmured. “You know, maybe they’d leave you alone if you responded.”

  “I see you came in here just to nag. How like a woman.” I caught her wrist as she lifted my book, her intent clear, and broke into a smile. My daughter was too easily nettled. “Please, the book is fragile.”

  “You’re impossible.”

  “Let me worry about the Syndicate. They are the least of my concerns right now.”

  Gray eyes flashed to a dark blue. “I don’t understand what is taking so long,” she burst out. “You picked out Jacob over two months ago so why haven’t you done that little magical swap thing you were telling me about? And don’t tell me you’re okay because I’ve seen for myself that your symptoms are getting worse.”

  I set aside my books and through the throbbing in my skull I seemed to hear a faint whisper calling out to me. I tightened my jaw and ignored it. “Kayla, I know you’re impatient and I share it with you. It takes time to establish the kind of bond I need to have with my chosen vessel. I cannot rush ahead without consequence.” Jacob had a strong mind and will, but I had no wish to test the limits of his endurance, and not just because of the danger to me.

  I pressed my lips together, irritated once again over my undue concern toward him. It seemed that time and again I needed to remind myself that he was merely a means to an end, despite my desire for him. An image of Jacob’s eyes flashing with challenge rose in my mind. It was getting harder to maintain my distance.

 

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