Graveyard Shifts: A Pat Wyatt Novel

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Graveyard Shifts: A Pat Wyatt Novel Page 14

by Laura Del


  “It’s complicated,” I answered. Not one of my best answers, and definitely cliché, but that didn’t make it any less true.

  “Bullshit,” he blurted. “That’s what people say when they don’t know the answer.”

  I sighed. “Maybe you’re right.” And he was. Pops was really adept at reading people, and I was no exception. “How about you?” I asked, wanting to see how he liked me turning the tables. “Are you in love with I-think-I’m-a-redhead Cindy?”

  “It’s…” He paused.

  “Complicated,” we said together.

  “Why marry her if you know you don’t love her?” I asked, wanting to hear the explanation.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” he said, looking and sounding like a father.

  “He asked, and I said yes,” I admitted. That wasn’t entirely true, but I didn’t want to get into my personal life with my father. That very thought saddened me. You’re supposed to confide in your father, not shy away from him.

  He sighed. “I’m really lonely, baby girl. After your mother died, I was devastated, and I never thought that a girl like Cindy would ever want an old man like me.” He paused, looking so tired and sad. “So I asked, and she said—”

  “Yes,” I finished for him, and he nodded numbly. I leaned forward, placing my forehead on his shoulder. “Oh, Pops. We are so screwed up.”

  He laughed his low and throaty poppa bear laugh. “You’re telling me.”

  “Speaking of screwed up,” I said, lifting my head, so I could look around. “Where’s Jessica?”

  He jerked his chin in her direction, and I saw that she was just a couple of feet away. She was fawning all over Samuel, and I rolled my eyes. “I honestly don’t care.” I waved her (and her flirting) off. “She can have him.” Even though I really didn’t wish him that kind of luck. Then again, maybe I did.

  “Patricia,” Pops scolded me, “she doesn’t want him. She just wants what you have. It’s always been that way.” My mouth dropped. He’d always picked up for her every chance he’d get, so to hear him say that was shocking. This was just the night for surprises.

  “I’ve always known that, baby girl,” he admitted with a shrug and a smile. “But lately she’s gotten on my nerves.”

  I doubled over with laughter. That was hysterical. “Why?” I finally managed to straighten up and ask.

  “Because she’s been doing it to Cindy,” he said, and I cocked an eyebrow. “You know,” he huffed at me, “fighting for my attention.”

  “Don’t let her get to you,” I said, taking his hand (which was still on my shoulder) and holding it in mine. “She’s not worth it.”

  “She’s still my daughter,” he pointed out. “And so are you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, defensively. He wasn’t making much sense, but I had a feeling that he was making a crack.

  He smiled. “I just mean that I don’t want you to wait until you get married again before I hear from you.” I was way off. “All right?” He knocked my chin softly with his fist, which was something he hadn’t done in ages.

  “You could’ve called,” I pointed out.

  “Yeah,” he agreed with me. “But I’m old and more set in my ways than you are.”

  I patted his cheek. “Pops, you’ll never be old to me.”

  He smiled, his eyes crinkling. “Liar,” he said, and we both laughed.

  I nodded. “Yes, but I’m good at it.”

  We gave each other an awkward hug. We hadn’t hugged in ages. But for the first time in a long time, I felt completely safe just standing there in my father’s arms.

  chapter

  TWELVE

  After I had wined and dined my guests to death, I was so exhausted when it was time for them to leave that I could barely keep my eyes open.

  I’d kissed, hugged and thanked them all for coming and was glad that they were slowly but surely getting out of my (well, Samuel’s) house.

  Tina (being one of the last to arrive) was the first to leave with her new boy-toy on her arm. He’d offered her a ride home, and she’d readily accepted it. Granted, she was a little drunk, but he seemed like good man, and they left around two-thirty in the morning.

  After I’d said good-bye to her, it seemed like everyone else decided it was time to go. Some complimented me on my singing, while others told me how marvelous it must be to have Samuel as a husband.

  By the end of all the good-byes, I felt dirty from all the hands that had touched me. But when my sister, father, and Cindy were going to leave (around three o’clock), I suggested that they all stay the night, insisting that we had plenty of room.

  Pops wasn’t too excited about the idea and said that they had an early flight to catch, so it would make more sense for them to stay at the airport hotel. That upset me. But with Pops, I knew I’d have to take baby steps, so I didn’t push.

  After we said our good-bye’s, I made him promise to visit in the future. Then he insisted we were welcome to stay with him anytime, and finally, I reluctantly let him go.

  I never realized how much I had missed Pops. A little bit of remorse washed through me as I watched him drive away.

  When I walked back into the house, there seemed to be no one left, and thinking it was safe to go upstairs and change, I closed the door. Then someone tapped me on the shoulder.

  At first I thought it was Samuel, but when I turned, his mother stood directly behind me, and I almost fell over she was so close. My goodness she was sneaky.

  “Mrs. Satané, I see where Samuel gets his quietness from. You scared me.” I laughed halfheartedly, trying to make it sound genuine, but it came off forced.

  She bowed her head modestly. “My apologies,” she said.

  “Did you need something?” I asked, hoping this would be a short conversation.

  She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Only to ask your permission to stay the night, if that is all right with you.”

  That was one of the silliest things I’d ever heard. She was family. She didn’t need my permission. “Of course it is. You don’t ever have to ask.”

  “You are too kind,” she said, patting my cheek with her cold hand (just another thing that Samuel inherited from her). “Samuel is very lucky.” Sure he is. “No,” she added with a gleaming smile, “he is.”

  Dear Lord, even his mother was crazy. “Don’t tell me you’re a mind reader.”

  She laughed, glancing at me sideways. “No, my dear, but I can read faces.”

  “Really?” I asked, smiling tightly. “And what does mine tell you?” As soon as I said it, I automatically wished I could take it back.

  “That you are confused and scared,” she told me, her eyes becoming all knowing, all seeing. “You are also very brave and have a great sense of right and wrong.” She laughed inwardly, as if something was too funny for words. “But I am sure we can fix that.”

  “You’re joking.” Please be joking.

  She frowned, which confused me. “Yes, of course I am.” She laughed, and I joined her, but something warned me to stop. And when I did, I looked behind her to see Samuel.

  “Mother,” he said, and she floated gracefully around to face him. “Do you mind if we speak alone?”

  “Certainly not,” she said, moving aside. She thought he meant me, but he tugged on her elbow, and they disappeared into the study.

  “What’s going on?” Charlie mouthed, standing at the top of the stairs.

  I shrugged, tiptoeing over to the closed study doors. He walked down the stairs, and as I placed my ear against the door, he stood beside me.

  “You shouldn’t do that,” he whispered, and I placed my hand over his mouth as fast as I could, just in case they could hear us listening. Something told me they could.

  He shut up and placed his ear up against the door with me.

  “Stop it, Mother!” Samuel’s voice was a harsh whisper.

  “Stop what, Son?” She sounded innocently confused, but I knew it was all an
act.

  “She is not like the others,” he said calmly. “You know that.”

  “Oh, I can see that,” she mused. “But she is also not one of us. You know what happens next, don’t you?”

  He sighed heavily. “Yes, I know.” I’d never heard Samuel so defeated before.

  “Like must marry like.” Her voice was soft and stern. “I am surprised at you. The one rule that you have to obey, and it falls by the wayside. She must become one of us.”

  “I know that,” he growled, slamming his fist on something hard. I was pretty sure it was the desk. “Don’t you think I know that?”

  “I am not sure anymore.” Her voice seemed farther away from us. “You have gone soft!” The slap came as swift as her word, just a loud smack that made me wince. “And if you cannot bring yourself to do it, then I will have to.”

  “No.” Sadness dripped into his voice. “I shall do it.”

  “Very well,” she said matter-of-factly. “You have until tomorrow.” I heard a soft, wet noise, like she kissed him on the mouth. Then she started to move toward the door, and I was ready to run, but the footsteps stopped.

  “By the way.” Her voice turned away from us, and my nerves stilled. “I think she may be in love with that Michael person.” I was waiting for Samuel to say something, but he was silent. “I would take care of him if I were you, before you lose your wife to a wolf.” And that was our cue to run upstairs.

  How could she have known about Mike and me? Was it that obvious?

  We ran into the closet (the only safe place that I could think of), breathing heavily. I slammed the door closed, and we leaned against it, breathless.

  “What was that about?” I breathed, my heart pounding against my ribs, and then I scanned Charlie’s worried face.

  I noticed that he was very pale and not his usual rosy self. “I have no idea,” he said, sounding scared.

  I slid down the door, sitting on the floor, and Charlie did the same. “I’m going to tell you something, but I don’t want you to get upset.”

  “I won’t,” he replied, making a show of crossing his heart. “I promise.”

  “I think…” How do I tell him? “I think…” Just do it! “His mother’s right. I have feelings for Mike.” Coward!

  Charlie smiled, regaining his color. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

  I smiled back feebly. If I would have said what I was about to say, Charlie would have most likely told Samuel that I still didn’t trust him, which would cause a fight, and only God knew how that would end.

  “Thanks, Charlie,” I breathed. “I’m going to take a shower now, so you can go to bed.”

  He nodded, and we both got up. Then he left me all alone.

  This day couldn’t possibly get worse.

  Of course, I’d spoken too soon because the nightmare came over me like a doomsday cloud. Only this time, I wouldn’t run from him. I would wait and face him, even if it was the last thing I ever stupidly did.

  Standing among the tombstones, I waited (like an insane moron) for him to show up. I looked around the graveyard carefully, but I couldn’t see anyone. Then in my periphery, I saw a shadow, and I turned to see Samuel appearing behind a large white tomb. He walked over to me so fast that he was a blur, and then he grabbed hold of me, pressing his body tightly to mine.

  “You are not afraid?” he purred in my ear.

  “No,” I replied. I’d thought about it before I’d gone to bed, and the truth was, “I’m fascinated.”

  “What are you fascinated about?” he whispered against my lips, letting me pull away from him a couple of inches.

  “I’m fascinated by the fact that you even exist.” Even though my voice was steady, my stomach was doing the cha-cha.

  “But I do exist,” he said, kissing me. “And so do you.”

  As I looked into his eyes, my mind went fuzzy again, and I couldn’t think straight. “Is this a dream?”

  “Only if you want it to be,” he said. His cold blue eyes were darker somehow as his hands roamed my body slowly.

  “I don’t want it to be,” I insisted with a shiver. My eyes closed when he lifted my chin so he could kiss my neck. There was something I wanted to ask him, but my mind wouldn’t form the question.

  “Open your eyes,” he commanded softly. When I did, I saw that his teeth were pointed into razor-sharp fangs. They were captivating, and I kissed him, grazing my tongue along the tips to see if they were real. They were.

  I pulled away from the kiss, placed my hand on the back of his head and pressed his lips to my neck. “Do it,” I said, my mind made up. Whether it was of my own free will was a mystery to me, but I still wanted it. “Before I change my mind.” I could feel his cold lips curl back from his teeth as he growled. But it wasn’t a mean growl; it was an excited one, if there were such a thing.

  I’d had a feeling that I would have the nightmare again, so I’d taken off my mother’s cross. It was now safe and sound in the bathroom.

  He hesitated before sinking his fangs into my flesh right above my collarbone. The pain went down my spine and radiated into my entire body. But in a flash it was replaced with slight pleasure. Then he placed me down on the cold, wet grass, taking off my panties under my nightshirt. He unhooked his teeth from my neck, leaned back, and stared into my eyes.

  I honestly didn’t understand what he was looking for, but whatever it was, he didn’t find it.

  He sneered at me. His mouth filled with blood. I grabbed the back of his head and kissed him again, and as I tasted the liquid life in my mouth, I came to my senses, pulling away from him. It was just going too fast.

  When he looked at me, an intense, overwhelming feeling hit. Everything was intense, but this was something different. Something horrible. “What’s wrong?” I asked, and it seemed an eternity before he answered.

  “I want you to be mine,” he whispered. “Forever.”

  See, I told you. Intense. “I want to be yours forever,” I said as my mind became fuzzy again. That’s when I realized what he was doing. He was making me say what he wanted to hear.

  All at once he released me, and I regained my senses. I pushed away from him as forcefully as I could, and he allowed himself to be pushed back. “Why do you do that?” I asked, agitated. And rightfully so. It was annoying.

  “I am sorry,” he said, closing his eyes tight. My guess is that he wanted to deter himself from any more temptation. But one thing was for sure: his fangs looked menacing with his lips curled up into a painful sneer and my blood dripping down his chin.

  He took a deep breath, opening his eyes, and then finally said, “I love you.”

  I sat up, folding my arms. “What am I supposed to say?” I asked with a shrug. “That I love you too? Because that, Samuel, would be a lie.” This conversation was long overdue, and I didn’t care if it was a dream or not. All I wanted to do was get what I had to say off my chest. “How can I love you if you don’t trust me enough to tell me the truth?” It was an honest enough question that needed an honest answer. And then my mouth ran away with me. “So I’m going to ask you again.”

  “Please,” he paused, pulling his hand together, begging me not to. “Please don’t.”

  I was set on it, and nothing was going to stop me. “I have to.” I paused, taking a breath. “Are you a vampire?”

  “Yes,” he admitted, hanging his head, “I am.” Then he stood, reaching down to me. I took his hand and sat on a tombstone, waiting for him to explain. It was the only reason I hadn’t punched him in the face.

  “I did not tell you,” he began again, “because I did not know how you would react.”

  I folded my hands in my lap—purely a precautionary measure so I wouldn’t be tempted to smack him. “So how have I reacted?” I asked, lifting my brow slightly.

  “Very well,” he answered with a chuckle. This wasn’t funny. “Considering that you figured it out all by yourself. One day you are going to have to tell me how you did that.”
>
  And maybe I would. One day.

  “You’re too obvious,” I said bluntly. “You should’ve made it a little harder for me.”

  “You amaze me,” he said, kneeling in front of me. “You really do.”

  Now that he’d taken his control off me, I was free to ask all kinds of questions. After all, this was my opportunity to have free rein on any and every subject I wanted to discuss. But I didn’t feel compelled to ask anything important. And at the moment, I just wanted to know one thing, “Is this a dream?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

  He shook his head. “No, it’s not”

  That’s when I lost all control, and I started laughing like a crazy person.

  “What is so funny?” he asked, after I doubled over with a witchy cackle.

  “You and me,” I managed to say, as the tears poured down my face. I was laughing so hard that I was crying. “I thought I was crazy,” I breathed, “because I thought you were a vampire. And as it turns out you are.” There was just no controlling the laughter or the tears, so I just went with it.

  It took at least ten minutes for me to regain my self-control. And when I finally did, I continued the conversation like nothing had happened. “So tell me,” I breathed, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, “how did you become one?”

  He sighed, looking down at the ground. “It is a long story,” he answered.

  “I have time,” I pointed out, but he seemed set in not telling me.

  He shook his head, moving closer to me. “Not tonight, my love. It is almost dawn.”

  I hung my head, looking up at him through my hair. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re never going to tell me?” I asked, frustrated with the situation. Then he opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. I nodded, picking up my underwear and placing them back on. “That’s what I thought.”

  “Pat,” he said my name like it was the first time, “please. Don’t leave me.”

  “Why the hell not?” That left a bitter taste in my mouth. I didn’t like to curse. My mother had brought me up to use my words when I was angry. But I couldn’t help it. He was getting on my nerves. “You’ll just sit there and lie to me some more. Why shouldn’t I leave?”

 

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