I moved to prop beside her on the hood. “How bad is it?”
She shook her head. “Andy doesn’t want me to see him. Of course, he’s still in surgery now. I’ve known Andy most of my life and if he thinks I shouldn’t look at him … it’s got to be really bad.”
I reached over and took her hand. “I’m so sorry, Brea.”
She squeezed my fingers and managed a smile. “Thanks for being here. It means a lot to me.”
“Where else would I be?” I said, borrowing Vincent’s line.
A few tears did escape then, but Brea wiped at them with a vengeance. While she lit another cigarette I remembered what she’d started to say before.
“What did he say to Andrew? You said it didn’t make any sense.”
“Yeah. He couldn’t understand everything. But he said James mumbled something about Jackson, rats and fangs.” She shook her head again.
“That’s horrible.”
“Yeah, but trying to figure it out gives me something else to think about.”
“Jackson? Like Mississippi?”
“Jackson is one of the guys he works with in the lab.”
“Could he have done this you think?” I hated to make such a suggestion, but we were grasping at straws.
“I don’t think so. From what I understand they’re in there trying to put James back together again. I don’t think he could do that. Shit, I don’t want to think that anybody could do that. Besides, he’s already come by tonight.”
“How did he know?”
“Andy called him, he knew they were friends too. Jackson was at his brother’s house, watching a fight. He said to keep him posted, but he couldn’t stay.” She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Something about having to pick up a friend at the airport tomorrow. He seemed pretty upset though. I don’t think he had anything to do with it.”
“I’m sorry. It was a terrible thing to suggest.”
“No, you’re looking for an explanation just like me.”
It was about an hour later when I was left alone with Matt and Brea. Vincent had gone to get us some coffee and Andrew was in the bathroom. I could tell Matt had been itching to question me and now was his chance. He turned to me and I knew what was coming.
“Had trouble finding his shoes, huh? Just how many pairs of shoes does Vincent have at your house? Have you got a whole collection under your bed?”
That pissed me off so much that I gave a brutally honest answer. “They’re not under my bed, they’re in my closet … along with the rest of his clothes.”
Matt let out a shaky breath, turning his back on me while he ran a hand through his hair. Blond curls practically shook as he twirled back around. “He’s living with you?” It was an accusation, not a question.
“Yes.”
“For how long? When were you planning to tell me?”
“For a couple of months now.”
“It’s worse than I thought. No wonder you had so much chemistry on set. It’s easy to get fired up in a love scene when you already know what the other person looks like naked!”
“How dare you?!”
Matt took a step toward me and I didn’t back down. I had never meant to hurt him, but right now I wanted to slap the shit out of him.
“You don’t even know his real name and you let him move in with you?”
He was still going on the theory that everyone else was. Vincent was a mystery to them and I wasn’t going to solve it for him.
“Shut up,” Brea said suddenly. We both jumped. “She wasn’t planning to tell you because you’d act like this.”
“Like what?” he snapped.
“Like this weird combination of jealous boyfriend and older brother. You always do.”
A look of understanding passed over his features. “You knew about this.”
“Of course I knew.” Brea stood up and put down her cup of coffee. She walked over and stared him right in the face. As tall as she was, they were nearly eye to eye. “You would have known too if you weren’t such an asshole sometimes.”
“I’m the asshole? You didn’t tell me he was resting his shoes under her bed and I’m the asshole? You knew how I’d feel about that.”
“They’re in the closet,” I said irritably. “And I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Fuck you,” Brea said, still staring her brother down. “And fuck Vincent’s stupid shoes!”
About that time we all turned to see Vincent standing in the doorway, a cup of coffee in each hand. He glanced down at his shoes. “But they’re designer.”
I laughed. It was the most inappropriate time in the world to see humor in the situation, but I couldn’t help myself. To my surprise, Brea laughed too. I think her laughter was mostly a relief of nervous tension. But I definitely found the situation funny.
Vincent opened his mouth, probably to ask what was going on, and I shook my head. I tried to tell him with my eyes that I would explain later. He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t ask questions. He walked over and handed Matt a cup of coffee. I wouldn’t have been so brave considering the look on Matt’s face.
He took the coffee from Vincent and managed to not spill it on either of them. Vincent turned his back on Matt and handed me the other cup. Turning his back on Matt was something most people wouldn’t have done either. But Vincent was not most people. I understood the gesture. He was saying he didn’t think of Matt as a threat. Matt understood the gesture too and stormed off to get some sugar.
Brea sat back down and Vincent joined her, putting his arm around her shoulders.
“So tell me, what is so offensive about my shoes?”
Brea gave him a brief rundown of what had just happened. I was still upset with Matt so I didn’t try to speak for several minutes.
Matt came back with a candy bar and several packs of sugar.
“Do you want any?” he asked Vincent, indicating the coffee cup. I could tell he was trying to be nice and it surprised me. Maybe he felt guilty for the way he had behaved.
“No thank you. I never drink … coffee.”
Brea snickered at the pun and I fought to keep from doing the same. I didn’t want Matt to think we were laughing at him. At this point Vincent didn’t know that Brea knew what he was. I guess he just thought she was a big fan of vampire novels to recognize the line.
“What kind of person sits in a hospital waiting room in the middle of the night and doesn’t drink coffee?” Matt asked this around a mouthful of chocolate. “What are you, some kind of purist who doesn’t believe in putting caffeine into their body?”
“I am something of a purist,” Vincent confessed.
I laughed. I couldn’t help it and everyone turned to look at me. Brea’s eyes were open wide with the effort it took her to keep from doing the same.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I think it’s just nervousness. Matt, do you have a cigar on you? I forgot my purse.”
“You know where I keep them,” he said, motioning toward his jacket.
I took a cigar and lighter from his inner coat pocket and walked outside to the back patio. When I saw Andrew standing there it made me realize he had been gone for quite some time. I had been so caught up in arguing with Matt that I hadn’t noticed. He was tall, around Vincent’s height with short reddish brown hair. He had dark blue eyes and I’m sure his full lips would look nice wearing a smile.
“Mind if I join you?”
He looked at me and attempted to smile. I took that as an invitation to stay.
“A woman who smokes cigars,” he said thoughtfully. “That’s kind of sexy.” I watched a trail of smoke, curling up into the air. “I’m sorry. That’s probably inappropriate.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “You okay out here?”
He opened his coat and I saw bloody hand prints on his light green sweater.
“I was getting a little hot in there, but I couldn’t take off my jacket. I couldn’t let Brea see this so I came outside to cool off.”
“Bad. I don’t know how he survived at all. He was … in pieces.”
I put a hand over my mouth to keep from being sick and turned to prop against the railing. The cold night air felt good against my face and helped to settle my stomach.
“I’m sorry, Andrew. I can’t imagine finding one of my friends like that.”
“Call me Andy,” he said softly.
“Brea tells me you were planning on celebrating tonight.” I tried to make light conversation to make him feel better.
“Yeah. My ex-brother-in-law finally got arrested.”
“What did he do, may I ask?”
Andy moved to prop on the railing beside me. I liked him. He had a nice easy feel about him. I guess some people might call that his aura. Whatever it was, it was peaceful and I didn’t mind when he stood closer to me. Actually, it made me feel better.
“He used to beat the shit out of my sister.”
So much for light conversation. Couldn’t I do anything right tonight?
“I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, it’s okay. Thinking about the possibility of him getting ass raped in prison makes me feel better.”
My jaw dropped.
“I’m so sorry,” Andy said. “I didn’t mean to offend.”
“I’m not offended,” I said, laughing a little at his comment. “Just shocked.”
Chapter Thirteen
After Andy told me about how his sister had been put in the hospital with a broken jaw, I was inclined to agree with his comment.
“He cheated on her, did all sorts of terrible things. But after putting her in the hospital she finally filed for a divorce.”
“What was he arrested for?”
“Drug trafficking, among other things. He’s not going anywhere for a long time.”
I finished my cigar just as he finished his story.
“We should get back inside, I guess.”
“Yeah, thanks for the conversation. Again I’m sorry if anything I said was offensive. I suffer from an unfortunate condition known as cop mouth.”
I laughed. “That’s alright. I think Brea suffers from the same condition. Or maybe it’s Tourette’s.” By the way he laughed I could tell Andy was more than familiar with Brea’s use of foul language. “I have a few symptoms of it myself, so don’t feel bad.”
“Thanks,” he said. I was right about how good he would look wearing a smile.
By the time James was finally out of surgery it was close to dawn. Too close. Vincent and I had both lost track of the time. Andy looked at his watch and said we should all get some rest and an alarm went off in my brain. The look on Vincent’s face said he was hearing the same alarm.
“We should be going too,” I said to Brea.
I knew she would understand and Andrew was too tired to notice anything odd about our sudden rush. But after all the coffee he had, Matt was wide awake.
“What’s your rush?” he asked Vincent.
“I’ve got things to do.”
We almost ran down the hall and out into the parking lot. The sky was already starting to lighten. Once the sun was fully up, he would be helpless. He might even pass out where he stood.
“Hurry,” he said, pulling the keys from his coat pocket.
About that time, Matt caught up with us. He pulled on Vincent’s sleeve and the first rays of morning light fell onto the vampire’s hand. Smoke rose from his pale flesh and Vincent pulled back with a hiss. As he did this his fangs extended and his brown eyes turned that solid, magical looking black.
“Don’t ever put your hands on me.”
Matt jumped back several feet.
“What the fuck?”
I stepped between them and pushed Vincent toward the car.
“I don’t have time now to explain. Vincent, get in the car, there’s a blanket in the backseat.”
He hurried to do what I said while Matt continued to stare, openmouthed.
“It’s really … he’s a ….”
“This goes no further,” I said. My tone left no room for argument. “If the wrong people find out I’m dead. It’s that simple.”
“No further,” Matt mumbled, still staring at Vincent.
I had no choice but to leave him standing there and hope that Matt understood the importance of keeping his mouth shut. The ride home was a blur. Vincent kept out of the light by hiding underneath the blanket. But by the time I made it home the sunrise was almost complete. Once we were inside the garage he ran with vampire speed toward the bedroom. He just made it to the bed before he was out for the day.
He landed with his feet sticking off the side of the bed. Since the sun wasn’t high enough for light to come streaming through the thin curtains I reasoned there was enough time to move him. I took off his shoes and rolled him over to unbutton his pants. He looked just as good as he did when we first left the house that night, only now I stopped to admire him. The way his dark hair spilled over my golden sheets was a work of art.
I pulled his shirt out of his pants and even though I admired him as I unbuttoned it, I didn’t take too long. I winced when I noticed the black spot on his left hand. I knew that vampires could regenerate, but I still felt the need to bandage it. I had just enough time to bandage his hand, finish stripping him and turn him around on the bed before sunlight reached my upstairs windows. I stripped off too and crawled into bed beside him before closing the bed curtains. I had gotten used to sleeping next to Vincent, even when he wasn’t breathing. It was still odd, but no longer frightening in any way. I felt responsible for him. He trusted me with his safety or he would never let me close to him during the day. That meant a lot to me.
Normally I wouldn’t have been able to sleep after what had just happened with Matt. But I was weakened already before going to the hospital and then I was up all night. I had barely rested my head against his chest before I passed out for the day too.
* * * *
The doorbell was loud and obnoxiously insistent. Finally, I rolled out of bed and into my favorite robe. There wasn’t time to get fully dressed. Whoever was at the door was going nuts on my poor doorbell. I stopped to glance out the window before opening the door. The first thing I noticed was that I had slept all day and it was nearly dusk. The second thing was Matthew’s car in front of my steps.
Great. That’s just all I needed. But if I didn’t talk to him … would he talk to someone else looking for answers?
“I’m not here about Vincent,” he said as soon as I opened the door.
I was taken aback. “Then what are you here for? Not that you’re not welcome, Matt, you know that,” I stammered.
He lowered his eyes to the floor. “James is dead.”
“Oh, God. When?”
“About an hour ago. Andy is with Brea. I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed a break for a few hours … and I came here. I hope that’s alright.”
“It’s fine. Come in.”
Once he was inside Matt cast a nervous glance up the stairs.
“Is he here?”
“Yes.”
“Is he going to kill me once the sun goes down?”
“I don’t think so, Matt.” I offered him what I hoped was a comforting smile. “Come on, I’ll make us some coffee.”
Matt followed me down the hall into the kitchen. The floors are a warm honey colored wood and there are several large windows. Most of the surfaces are copper or copper colored. Pots hang from a large rack on the ceiling. Even more odd dishes and pots are displayed on a shelf which runs around the length of the room close to the ceiling.
My mom would love the kitchen. That is if I could ever get her to come visit. My mind drifted to my parents in order to keep from focusing on the problem at hand. I was trying to convince my mom and dad to let me pay off their bills so they could retire early. They weren’t in a position to help me financially when I had needed it a few
years back and still felt guilty. I didn’t hold that against them. My uncle had been able to help and I was doing good now. That’s what mattered. Daddy had finally agreed to a “loan.” But I had no intention of letting them pay me back.
“They’ll come around,” Matt said.
“What?”
“Your parents.”
“How did you know what I was thinking about?”
He shrugged. “Well, the way your mom loves kitchens and the way you kept staring at the countertop … I figured it didn’t have anything to do with me.”
“You know me too well.”
He took my hand and pressed it between both of his. For some reason, I wanted to cry.
“I’m not too macho to admit that I’m scared shitless right now, sweetheart. Tell me what’s going on before I change my mind about being here.”
He cast another nervous glance toward the ceiling and I decided that now was as good a time as any. I told Matt the same story Vincent was planning to tell the vampire council. I left nothing out except the journals. Only Vincent and I knew about those and it had to stay that way. After what had happened that morning I’m sure Vincent would understand that I had to tell Matt something.
When I was finished he sat at the kitchen counter for several minutes, staring down into his coffee cup.
“So, all this time … he wasn’t kidding. He’s not some nut job who thinks he’s a vampire, or some jerk trying to take advantage of you.” Matt ran a hand through his hair and started to pace the room. “I’m sorry, Jewel. This is a lot to absorb.”
“As long as you absorb it in private.”
We both turned toward the sound of Vincent’s voice. He was standing in the doorway wearing nothing but a black robe, and looking better than was appropriate for the situation.
“I suppose I should be angry about this.” He held up his bandaged hand as he walked toward the fridge. “But I remember how I reacted when I found out that vampires were real.”
“How was that?” Matt asked shakily.
“I tracked down the son of a bitch and killed him.”
Vincent kept a few bags of blood in my freezer and a few simply chilled in the fridge. He took out one of the bags, poured some blood into a glass and put it in the microwave. Matt stood, frozen to the spot, staring at the whole thing. I have to admit, it was a little gruesome to witness for the first time.
Diary of an Incubus Page 10
