He was only wearing a pair of jeans and a white sleeveless undershirt. I couldn’t get over how muscular his shoulders and arms were. The color of his skin was golden brown. I knew his heritage, but the tone of his skin was so beautiful. He was the best looking man I’d ever laid eyes on. I felt a familiar tingling and warmth in my nether regions that embarrassed me.
I must have made some slight sound. He looked over at me.
Time stopped. I couldn’t hear the ticking of my father’s old clock. Maybe it was just the voice of Etta James singing “Sunday Kind of Love”. That song had never failed to move me into an emotional frame of mind. Maybe it was just the stress of everything that had happened over the past weeks. Maybe it was his confusion about his circumstances combined with finding out about vampires for the first time.
Whatever the reason, when we both looked at each other in that single moment, everything changed. It’s difficult now for me to look back on that moment without tears in my eyes. It’s hard to think about Jackson and the way he was back then. But that night in the parlor, with Dad’s favorite old scratched-up Etta James album playing in the background… That’s when it happened.
That moment was probably only a minute or so in real time, I guess. But there was a connection born there between us. Something neither had expected nor even wanted. The expression on his face was strange, almost as if he had never seen me before that moment. There was an enchanting amber light in his gaze as he looked me over.
He broke the eye contact first.
Gesturing haltingly towards the record player, he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep.”
His long fingers traced over the short stack of album covers on the table. “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard any of these.”
I continued to stare as he talked.
“I lived with my grandparents for awhile when I was little. My grandmother was really into jazz. She was crazy about Lena Horne, Billie Holiday, Etta James…”
He picked up the Etta James cover on the stack and smiled. “I had forgotten how gorgeous it sounds on vinyl. It feels like I’m back home.”
The warm pitch in his voice was pacifying. Padding over to the loveseat, I sat and curled my legs up under me. Still I didn’t speak. After a few moments, he took the tan afghan from the back of the sofa, unfolded it and spread it over me without making any physical contact. It was done without words by hands that were steady with quiet strength. It was a gesture that resonated with me, that made it clear in my mind that this man cared for the comfort of others.
I said nothing.
He chose another album, set the needle against the track and drifted around the room, looking at the pictures on the walls. “I used to sit in my grandmother’s kitchen and eat oatmeal cookies while she wrote long letters to my aunts. She always had some jazz playing in the den.”
The music filled the room, sending piano notes and intimate vocals into every corner. My chest ached with the heavy emotion that seemed to seep through me, but I couldn’t define whether it was me mourning the loss of my Dad or the new feelings invoked by the stranger before me.
“Why did you live with your grandparents?” I asked suddenly.
His gaze swept over me shortly and he lowered himself onto the floor in front of the sofa. He stretched his long legs out in front of him and sighed. “My mom had some trouble with depression when I was little. My father never really stepped up to the plate, and Mom took it pretty hard.”
“You never knew your father?”
“I’ve met him.”
A hard look came over his face that made me realize it was a difficult thing for him to talk about.
The irony wasn’t lost on me. Here was a man who had been abandoned by a parent, who probably knew better than anyone how devastating it felt to have been left behind. The connection I had sensed when I first walked into the room became a solid, bright thing that made me want to tell him everything. And I knew he would understand.
I studied his face for a few moments while he had his eyes closed, his dark head resting against the sofa cushion. It wasn’t just honesty displayed there for the world to see. He was complex, but perhaps he was a puzzle that would be worth putting together. I felt like I wanted to do exactly that.
“My mother left our family when I was young,” I said.
It felt like a release, as if something dark had burst out from the place in my heart where it had been churning for months. I waited for a sign of pity from the man sitting so close to me, some indication that he would see the issue the same way that everyone else had.
His head turned on the cushion and he watched me quietly for a few minutes without saying a word.
I fixed my eyes on the window across the room and studied the shapes of the trees outside. I felt an overwhelming urge to flee, to run through the door and lose myself in the forest out there. The trees didn’t care about whether or not I’d been left behind by my mother. Maybe the beautiful man sitting so close didn’t care about it either.
Then he crawled over to where I sat on the loveseat. He remained on the floor beside me, the angles of his face soft with empathy, his eyes trained on my face in a way that made me catch my breath.
“Mothers do stupid things sometimes. Especially to their kids. For the kids that make it through, they usually come to the conclusion that they’ll do everything differently if they ever have kids.”
In a gesture of support, he touched my arm.
The contact immediately warmed me, inside and out. It wasn’t the electricity I felt when Michael touched me. There was no element of danger with Jackson. There was trust, common understanding and an undeniable attraction that wasn’t purely physical. He was human. He could understand what I’d been through and help me move through it. Maybe.
Having opened the floodgates, I began to talk to him about everything. Not just the things that had happened, but my feelings that had emerged for Alex and Michael. I spoke briefly of meeting my Mom again and encouraged him to talk about his Dad if he wanted to do that.
The pity I’d grown to expect from everyone wasn’t there when I talked to Jackson. His ability to smooth things out, to look at them from different perspectives wasn’t just refreshing. It was exactly what I’d needed for a long time and I hadn’t realized it.
He didn’t say anything more about his father. After I’d told him about Michael, I began to slow down. There were longer pauses between us in the conversation, during which I found myself watching his face, noticing the way he habitually pushed his dark shining hair behind his ears. When he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkled up adoringly and two dimples appeared in his cheeks. His bottom lip was full and glistened in the low lamplight.
The way I was feeling kind of scared me. I didn’t really understand the energy that was flowing through me or the strange fluttering in my stomach. It wasn’t like anything I’d experienced before. Nothing like that had ever happened with Trevor or Alex. The only comparable sensations were those I’d felt when I was around Michael.
“Sarah, what the hell are you doing?”
When I turned my head, I saw my sister and the object of my thoughts standing in the doorway.
CHAPTER 5 – Michael
A man reserves his true and deepest love not for the species of woman in whose company he finds himself electrified and enkindled, but for that one in whose company he may feel tenderly drowsy.
-George Jean Nathan
I wasn’t entirely sure of what I was seeing on Sarah’s face when Katie and I stepped in from the hallway. I suppose my first instinct might have been fear, seeing him sitting so close to her. Jackson Bennett was sitting at her feet, looking up at her like he’d never seen anything quite so radiant in his worthless two dozen years on earth. And when Sarah turned around after Katie’s abrupt question, I saw a significant element of guilt in her expression.
It took me a few moments to compose myself. Hot rage had begun to course through me at the sight of the two
of them together, and I knew it for what it was. That great green monster called Jealousy. I am not a being who gives in to the same banal emotional tides that humans tend to ride endlessly despite the futility of such adventures.
Katie did not yet possess the necessary self-control to handle the situation maturely. Her distrust of the newcomer was palpable. I restrained her as gently as I could and managed to prevent an injury to Sarah’s new friend. The newly-turned vampire beside me glared down at my hand on her arm.
“Let me go, Michael.”
Jackson stood slowly, keeping a steady eye on Katie’s every move. The calm countenance he displayed was somewhat unnerving. Sarah rose as well and stepped in front of him, dropping an afghan on the floor. It was that simple movement that said everything. Exposing her back to him and coming in between Jackson and her sister was a declaration, whether she had intended it as such or not.
Perhaps it wouldn’t have been quite as unsettling if she wasn’t dressed as she was in that nightgown. Sarah looked like the gentlest, most alluring creature with her long hair trailing down around her shoulders, and with the enticingly low neckline of the gown, her breasts rose and fell visibly with each breath. Unsaid sentiment or some inner passion had brought a glow to her features that nearly stole my reason.
“Katie, calm down. We’ve been talking,” she insisted, glancing at Jackson, “and there’s no way he’s going to hurt me.”
“You don’t have anything to worry about,” he added.
Katie jerked her arm away from my loosening grip and scowled at them both. “Oh, I’ve got plenty to worry about. But I’d be happy to have one less asshole on my shit list.”
“Jesus, Katie…” Sarah actually looked embarrassed.
Katie threw one icy stare over her shoulder at me before stalking away towards the back door.
“I think I’m going to try to get some sleep.” Jackson briefly touched Sarah’s arm as he passed her and gave me a level look on his way out of the room. There was only a hint of malice in his face. Again I was left to ponder the situation we had walked in on.
The album on the turntable stopped and the needle arm lifted. She turned and bent down to retrieve the blanket, exposing the exquisite curve of her backside through the gown. I wanted nothing more than to wrench that ridiculously-virginal gown away from her body and take her right there on the floor with as much violence as necessary to erase Jackson Bennett from her mind.
When she rose again, she pulled the blanket close around her as if to hide something. Perhaps it was a simple matter of modesty, but I didn’t believe that she had been hiding herself from him. I approached her slowly and smiled.
“That’s an interesting choice of garment for entertaining a stranger.”
Sarah shook her head and sighed. “Stop it. I’ve already heard enough from Katie.” She went over to the record player and took the album off the turntable.
“She’s worried. You would be as well, if the situation were reversed.”
I tried to keep the edge out of my voice but found I was failing. The urge to rip Jackson Bennett’s throat out was pushing towards the surface, beginning to block out reason.
Sliding the album back into its cover, she addressed me nonchalantly over her shoulder, “He’s a gentleman, Michael. We also happen to have a lot in common.”
“He attacked you, Sarah.”
She whipped around furiously and scowled. “You know it was under compulsion. Both the doctor and Victoria confirmed that.”
“What if Isaiah gets to him again?”
That made her pause. Her silky eyebrows rose and she took a deep breath. “I guess he’ll just have to stay here.”
“What?”
“It makes sense. The only reason Isaiah was able to get in before was because Jackson was under his power. If we keep him safe here in the containment zone, then we reduce the risk of it happening again. It actually keeps us all safe.”
Despite the logic of it, I hated the idea.
“So do you intend to stay here indefinitely as well? No trips to town?”
She shrugged as if it meant nothing to be so isolated. “Not indefinitely. We need to work with the Council in order to get Isaiah under control. Teddy might be able to help.”
“Isaiah is one of the most influential members of the Council, Sarah. He ranks higher than Teddy.”
“I don’t know the politics of it, Michael. But it can be handled, I’m sure.”
I reached out and grasped the hem of the afghan she was using to hide her glorious body from me.
“There are very few vampires more powerful than Isaiah, my dear.”
“Alex?”
“He’s not exactly a vampire, now is he?” I questioned quietly.
Pulling away, she shut the clear plastic lid of the record player and turned back to me. “Maybe not.”
“Have you considered the idea that Isaiah may try to recruit Alex in order to work against us?”
Her face became grave. “He wouldn’t do that.”
Approaching with purpose, I moved my face within inches of hers.
“You don’t know what Alex might do. He’s entirely unpredictable. If he wanted to, he could take over everything. Including the Council,” I snarled.
My resentment was rising to the surface. I had to leave. Sarah was in a different place that night. She wasn’t ready to hear reason or criticism, no matter how logical it might seem to me. Her new friend had moved her into a different frame of mind. I caressed one of her cheeks with a finger before turning away and heading outside.
As much as I hated the idea of that native sleeping down the hall from Sarah, I had to admit that it was safer to keep Jackson at the farm. I had a feeling it wouldn’t be very difficult to convince him that was the best course of action.
Katie was waiting for me near the barn. She pounced as soon as I rounded the corner of the building.
“Do you see what’s happening?” she hissed.
I continued walking towards the meadow, testing the air for any scent of danger.
“What exactly are you in a huff about?”
“He tried to rape her, Michael. How can you just stand by and do nothing?”
“He’s no danger to her, Katie.”
She came to a halt beside me. “What if he takes your place?”
I turned and looked at her. Her determination to bait me was strong, although I was quite sure it wasn’t Jackson she was truly angry with at all. There was something more behind her antipathy than just fear for Sarah. In any case, I didn’t have time to deal with her psychological issues.
“She’s fine. Drop it.”
I felt her hateful stare on my back as I walked away.
CHAPTER 6 – Sarah
“Hello?”
“Sarah, dear. It’s Teddy.”
I was so relieved to hear her voice. I needed someone who would hear reason, who might understand what was happening without going to extremes. Taking a deep breath, I peeked around the corner into the entryway from the kitchen. Jackson was helping Nelly make venison stew and I didn’t want them to know who I was talking to.
“I was hoping you would call,” I whispered.
“What’s going on there?”
“Jackson Bennett is here. Isaiah ordered him to attack me, Teddy.”
There was an audible gasp on the other end of the line. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
She sighed. “Thank goodness. I had no idea Isaiah had such plans, Sarah. I only thought he was using Jackson to get into the containment zone. But why is he still there? Isaiah has agents searching for him everywhere.”
“Unless they can find another Pawnee with pure blood to let them in, they’re not going to get him. He’s going to stay here until we can figure out how to stop Isaiah.”
“That’s going to be rather difficult, my dear. I called because one of my contacts on Isaiah’s staff has received word that he is interested in finding Alexander.”
I should have known. Michael warned me. But I couldn’t believe that Alex might turn against us after all that had happened, especially after what had happened with Isaiah and my illness. I still refused to believe it.
“Teddy, Alex would never join him. I know it.”
She paused for a moment. “Isaiah can be very persuasive. If he wants Alex badly enough, he will use whatever means he can to organize an alliance. Is there anything or anyone that Isaiah might use as bait to secure Alex’s loyalty?”
“I’m not sure.”
The friendship between Alex and me had deteriorated to a point where I wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore. Other than his humanity.
“I know that he’s looking for the Breath-Giver. He’s hoping she’ll offer him a second chance.”
“Well, most vampires consider the Breath-Giver to be a myth. I don’t think Isaiah could use that to entice him. Anything else?”
“No. Not that I can think of right now.”
“Just be careful, dear. I’ll have my contacts on alert. I’ll let you know if there’s anything new.”
“Thank you, Teddy.”
I put the receiver back onto the cradle on the wall and covered my clammy face with my hands. There was too much going on. Between the Michael drama, me being sick, Alex’s questionable loyalty and Katie’s transformation, I felt as if I’d been torn into a thousand pieces. I just didn’t understand why everything always had to be so complicated.
Sliding down into the antique cherry chair in the entry hall, I tried to calm myself down. It was going to be okay. Deep breathing. Let out the stress and breath in the hope. I would have loved to head down to Bill’s Bar and Grill for a strong Hurricane or shot of whiskey.
The Vampire's Redemption, A Paranormal Romance (Undead in Brown County #3) Page 3
