by Ranae Glass
“I don’t want to see this, Sue. Make it go away.”
I can’t. I’m sorry.
I shook my head. It was too much, too awful. Tears welled up and spilled down my cheeks. I looked up, trying not to see, trying to block out the sound of her spirit sobbing.
Focus on the tape, Sue suggested gently.
Yes, focus.
Carefully, I twisted my wrist, picking at the edge of the tape with my long fingernail. I worked it until I felt the slender threads inside the tape give way, creating a small tear. Then I pulled my hands apart, twisting them against the rip. The tape gave way and I pitched forward, nearly landing on top of the body. I caught myself on my hands and knees, finding myself face to face with Katy’s spirit.
She was looking at me as if silently begging, but for what, I couldn’t be sure. Peace? Justice? I didn’t have the time or the heart to ask. I opened my mouth and the spirit crashed into me, disjointing me from my skin until I was sitting on the sofa in my mind next to a perplexed Sue.
What the—?
Footsteps crunched through the dry leaves around the corner of the house and toward us. We stood, rage carrying us to our feet.
Sue? I asked.
She turned to look at me.I’m right here, she said sadly.
Then who’s in charge?
That was a stupid question. I could feel her inside of me. Too small for my body, her spirit stretched into it, burning hot with pain, grief, and anger.
Katy? I asked, but she was beyond hearing me. She was flame. Scorned, betrayed, and… empty.
We ran, not away from the footfalls, but toward them in a blinding, red rage. Our fingers were curled like claws, our teeth ground together, and our muscles tensed for attack. We rounded the corner and barreled into him, knocking him into the side of the metal furnace.
“You killed me! You killed my baby!”
We were on top of him, scratching and clawing at any bit of exposed skin we could find. She wanted to rip his eyes out, I could feel it. But she was weaker, and he tossed her aside like a rag doll. She was stunned and I took the opportunity to thrust her out, pushing her spirit with my own until she spilled out of my body.
He must have been expecting more scratching because the punch to the face took him by surprise. I rolled away and jumped to my feet, crouched for a fight. Some of her anger must have been lingering because I was really hoping he would come at me. Instead, he turned and ran toward the car. I stood upright and dropped my fists, disappointed.
Before he could make it to the car, a man leapt from a tall tree, holding a large branch and knocking him over the head with it. Teddy fell, sprawled against the gravel.
It took me a second to process what I was seeing as I stepped forward. “Thanks, whoever you are.”
The man turned to look at me, his face full of surprise. His eyes were so blue that even from a distance, I could see how much they looked like teal seas. His chest was bare, only a pair of dark jeans covering his body. He turned his back to me, revealing a perfect set of white wings, and vanished.
I fell to my knees. It was as if whatever strings had been holding me upright were severed. I wasn’t sure what to do. My mind reverted to the few, sporadic Sunday school lessons I remembered from my childhood, and I clamped my hands together. The angel reappeared beside me. I turned slowly, staring up at him.
“Who are you?” I asked, my mind fogging over with doubt as it became obvious he was real, not a ghost or an angel, but flesh and bone.
He held his hand out to me. “I’m Melephilious, and I’m here to take you home.”
I pushed away his hand. “I’ll drive, but thanks.”
Behind him, a bright light burst between the trees. I held my hand up over my eyes. He held out his other hand, and Katy’s spirit clutched it.
“Is my son in there?” she asked, looking at the light.
He smiled, twin dimples appearing on each side of his square face. “Yes.”
She nodded. He looked back at me, his other hand still extended. “Sue? Are you ready to go?”
I opened my mouth to tell him Sue wasn’t going anywhere with him, but she had already slipped out of my body. Her spirit formed beside him, taking his hand. She looked at me.
“It’s time, Isabel. I’m ready to go home. I want to see my family again.”
I reached inside my mind and felt… nothing. It was so empty. It was as if my mind had stretched to accommodate her and now that she was gone, everything echoed. Part of me was relieved. The other part wanted to cry.
“I—” My voice broke. “Thank you, Sue.”
She leaned forward and kissed my cheek. I could almost feel it, a cool breeze against my skin. “No, thank you.”
The three of them walked to the light and once it surrounded them, they faded away. Except for the man who, once they were gone, gave me a haughty glare. “You,” he pointed at me, “I’ll be back for.”
SHANE
It wasn’t the first time Shane had ever gotten a call from the hospital. He was listed as Isabel’s emergency contact when they were engaged, and she had yet to change it. So here he was, braving daylight yet again.
She was already in a private room when he arrived. Hospitals were the worst for him, especially now when the sun was up and his energy was low. The smell of congealed blood and fouler things hung in the air like stale popcorn in a movie theater. It was both disgusting and made his stomach burn with hunger. He held his breath and walked toward her room. Reggie was sitting outside the door in a plastic chair.
“Reggie, what brings you here?” Shane asked, holding out his hand.
Reggie stood, shaking it before rubbing his hand over his bald head. “We gotta bit of a problem.”
Shane darted past him to where he could see her through the door. Isabel was lying in bed, her head completely covered in white gauze bandages, needles in her arm and hand.
“Is she okay?”
“Isabel is fine. We found her about twenty miles off Highway 26, just outsida Dorchester. Problem was, she had a coupla dead folks with ‘er.”
“And you think she killed them?”
“Highly doubt it. Besides being pretty beat up herself, it looks like she was kidnapped and taken out there by the owner of the car. Coroner says the girl’s been dead a while—she’s that missing person Isabel’s been looking into. The man, a fella named Theodore Long, he ended up on the wrong side of a tree branch the size of a baseball bat. Isabel swears it fell on him. Forensics is lookin’ at it now. Wouldn’t that be just her luck though?”
“Is she in trouble?”
“Nah. Course, she got a pretty nasty gash on the head. Doc says there might be some short-term memory loss, just so ya can be prepared. Just between us, that girl’s got more lives than a vampire cat.”
Shane nodded. “Can I go in?”
“Well, I sure as hell ain’t gonna stop ya. But watch out for the nurse with the red scrubs. She’s a grumpy one. Course, even she might not have the stones to kick a vampire out.” Reggie chuckled and patted Shane on the shoulder. “I’m gonna go find a cup of coffee. You need anything?”
Shane shook his head.
“Suit yourself.” Reggie walked away, whistling softly.
Shane pushed open the door.
Isabel opened one eye and grimaced. “I thought you were that horrible nurse again. Do me a favor, if she comes back in, eat her, okay?”
Shane smiled. If Isabel was cracking jokes, she must be doing better than she looked. Her face was almost completely purple, both eyes bright purple and red. She had scratches running down the side of her face and both forearms were bandaged. Seeing her, like this, something clicked inside him. For a moment, he could see the allure of making her a vampire. At least that way she might actually see her thirtieth birthday.
“And here I thought I was having a rough night,” Shane said as he pulled a chair over to the bedside.
She snorted. “Please. Compared to me, you are a rank amateur in the world of be
ing kidnapped by crazy people.”
“Fair enough. You need anything? Besides my eating of the nurse, I mean.”
Isabel groaned and sat forward. “If you’re being this nice to me, I must really be bringing sexy back.”
“You do look a little… peaked.”
“Peaked? What are you, my grandmother? I look like hell. In my defense, I did just die a little. I think. That part’s a bit foggy. And have you seen a guy hanging around here, about six-two, blue eyes, big friggin’ wings?”
Shane frowned. “You’re not making sense. Are you sure you’re okay?”
She waved it off. “I’ll survive. What about Teddy?”
“The dead guy? Yeah, he’s—”
“Dead, so you said.”
“Yeah. Did you have anything to do with that?”
She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don’t think so. I broke his leg trying to escape. He tied me up. I got loose. We fought. He ran for it, and this branch sort of fell on him.”
“Sort of fell on him?”
“Well, it might have fallen, or a big, half-naked angel might have dropped it on him. But then, I might have been seeing things. Two concussions in three days makes it hard to tell.”
“Angel? Yeah, I think we can safely assume you were seeing things.”
She laughed, and it must have hurt because it turned into a wheeze. Shane took her hand. She was cold, abnormally so. He pulled the spare blanket up from the foot of the bed and laid it on her.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
“What about your stowaway?”
“You mean Sue? She’s gone. Went into the light. Literally.”
“You know when you’re coherent again, we’re going to have a chat about all this.”
She reached up and patted him on the cheek. “Whatever. Now make yourself useful and go smuggle me in some soda.”
"I’m in hoopskirt hell,” I declared, hoisting a tray of lemon bread into the air.
The kitchen was massive, but still not big enough to comfortably contain a dozen waiters and chefs. My mother stood behind the counter, her pre-Civil War era dress covered with a plain white apron. As soon as the last of the waiters ducked under my arm, I set the tray on the granite counter and tugged hopelessly at the back of my gown.
Beside me, Heather swished in the door, her giant skirt making her already tiny waist look artificially thin. “What, you don’t like the dress?” she teased.
“I have an itch,” I groaned, grabbing a wooden spoon and shoving it down between my shoulder blades.
She rolled her eyes. “Here, let me.” She grabbed the spoon and wiggled it side to side.
I sighed in relief.
“Better?”
I pulled out the spoon and tossed it into the sink full of soapy water with a splash. My mother slapped my hand.
“Manners,” she scolded.
My mother could easily have fit right into the old South. Her hair was perfectly coifed into a bun with strategic height from careful teasing. Her hands were flour from finger to elbow as she rolled out handmade dough on the counter. I grabbed a raspberry tart and tossed it into my mouth.
“Msorry,” I mumbled around the bite.
“So, how are you holding up?” Heather asked softly, just low enough my mother couldn’t hear.
I shrugged. “I’ve been better. Thank goodness Phoebe is so good with makeup or I’d look like a zombie stuffed in a ball gown.”
Phoebe had spent an hour carefully layering various shades of concealer and foundation to create a makeup mask over my face. It was thick and heavy, but better than the alternative, which was having my mother and every other person in the place stop me to ask what happened.
“What about the other stuff?”
I knew what she wanted to hear, but I wasn’t ready to put words to it yet. I was holding it together. When a break was that new and tender, I found it was best not to go poking at it. It would heal up, but there would be scars. New scars to cover old ones.
“I’m fine.”
Heather gave me a nudge that meant she understood, and she was there if I needed her. Funny how sometimes you didn’t actually have to speak to communicate, especially with sisters.
Mom shook her head, apparently deciding she didn’t have the time to lecture me further, and refilled my tray.
“Just take these out, please.” She said the wordplease like a command rather than a request and went back to kneading dough.
I hoisted the tray, grateful I’d at least been allowed to wear comfy sneakers under the massive yellow and green gown, and plastered on my best fake smile before pushing my way back into the jungle.
The house was one of the more grand estates in Charleston, which was saying something. My entire house would have easily fit into one of the six bathrooms. Weaving through the crowd, I made my way toward a familiar face. Xavier was standing, glass of champagne in hand, chatting with Delacore Evermills, one of the oldest and most rotund of the historical society. The pink taffeta dress struggled to hold in her large bosom, which she seemed to thrust toward Xavier at every opportunity. To his credit, he remained the consummate gentleman, kind and aloof in the same breath. The Confederate uniform was molded to his body as if it had been tailored just for him, which, come to think of it, it probably had. I made my way to them as gracefully as possible, considering I kept knocking into people with my obnoxiously round hoopskirt.
“Lemon cake?” I asked, letting my natural southern accent flow to the surface. Most of the time, I barely had a trace of the drawl, but I could call upon it full force when I wanted to. Delacore flushed, fanning herself with a feather stick that looked somewhat less than period appropriate.
“Mmmm, these are simply heavenly. You must give your mama my compliments, child.”
“Oh, I’m sure she’d be delighted to hear it straight from your lips, Miss Evermills. She’s just over in the kitchen. I’m sure it would mean the world to her if you could take a second and pop in on her.” I smiled sweetly.
She looked to Xavier, then back to me, obviously torn between leaving him and being rude. “Of course. I should go say hello.”
She excused herself and made for the kitchen. Something told me it was the idea of more tiny desserts that prompted the decision more than anything.
Xavier leaned over, whispering in my ear. “Saved by the Lemon cake. I owe you one, Isabel.”
I shrugged. “Just doing my civil duty. Besides, I wanted to tell you the news. I tracked down Melanie’s aunt. She’s sweet, a bit ‘round the bend though. She has full-time nurses helping take care of her. A move away from familiar things might not be great for her, but supervised visits might be nice. And as for her attitude toward vampires, she told me, ‘If the good Lord ain’t right with ‘em, that’s twixt them and the Lord. I ain’t got no bin’essin the middle’. She’s a really funny old lady. Emphasis on theold.”
“I see. Thank you for that.” He took a sip of the golden bubbles.
Guilt gnawed at my stomach. It’d been weeks and there was still no sign of Devon. I’d been searching, and I knew Xavier was driving himself crazy, but there was just nothing. It was as if he just vanished into thin air.
I switched tray hands. “Well, I gotta go. No rest for the wicked.”
He grabbed my arm gently. “Before you go, I have to ask. You and Shane? Has he taken you off the market?”
The blood in my veins froze. My heart stuttered, as if trying to pump the ice through my veins was too much to bear.
Shane had waited until I was out of the hospital. He tucked me into bed my first night home and sat beside me. I knew just by looking at the pained expression on his face that I wasn’t going to like what he had to say, and boy, had I been right.
He said a lot of words like ‘not the right time’ and ‘I deserved a real life’ and ‘shouldn’t have to sacrifice’. But what he meant was simple. He didn’t want me. Not really. He wanted Sue or someone like her. The moment I was back to myse
lf, he remembered why he didn’t want to be with me.
The walls I’d built between us slammed back up in an instant. He could make up as many excuses as he wanted. Mercy, Xavier, even my limited life span. But the truth was obvious. Like it or not, that person wasn’t me. Maybe it was once, before I realized how hard and cruel the world really was. But I couldn’t go back to that. And he didn’t want the me that I was now, not really. He was just too kind to say it.
I forced a smile. “I wasn’t exactly myself that week.”
“So I heard.”
I shrugged off his hand. “We are back to the status quo. Partners and friends. That’s all.”
“Then could I convince you to let me take you for another meal? I promise this one won’t be so rudely interrupted.”
I opened my mouth to say no, I really did. But that wasn’t what came out.
“I’d like that.”
Inside, some small, bitter part of me cheered. Shane might not want today Isabel, but Xavier sure seemed to like her. Maybe it was time to let myself be with someone who really wanted me. Heaven knew I could feel the pull whenever Xavier and I got near each other. Maybe it wasn’t just lust. Maybe it was more, or maybe it could be. Maybe I could let it be.
He bowed formally, and I headed back into the crowd. I was still chewing my lip, half embarrassed, half excited about my impending date with Shane’s boss, when I sawhim.
He slipped between two costumed ladies, his teal blue eyes darting toward a long hallway off the main room. Smirking at me, he deposited his champagne flute on a passing tray and moved out of the room. I set my own tray on a nearby end table next to a tall floral arrangement and followed.
He kept walking, not looking back, around the corner and into a large library. I stepped inside and he appeared behind me, closing the door gently.
“You,” I said, my heart firing rapidly.
“Me,” he admitted, splaying his hands.
I took a step back. The smell coming off him was bitter, like grain liquor, and strong enough to knock out a frog.
“Who are you?”
“Melephilious.”
“Okay,what are you?”
