by Laura Del
I took it, chewing quickly. Not thoughtful chews, but frantic ones. “Okay,” I said after I swallowed hard. “Let me get this straight. Samuel’s a…”
“Vampire,” they both supplied.
“Thank you.” I nodded and then pointed at Mike. “And you’re a…” I just couldn’t wrap my head around it.
“Werewolf,” Mike said wryly.
Charlie walked over to the sofa and got in Mike’s face. “You told her?” he screamed. I had never seen him so angry before, and it scared me. “Don’t you think she’s been through enough today?”
Mike put his finger in Charlie’s face. “You know that she can handle a lot more than you give her credit for.”
“At least she can keep a secret,” Charlie hissed, glaring at him. “Unlike some people!”
“Hello,” I interrupted them, waving my hands around like an idiot. “Still in the room.”
Charlie turned around and sat down next to Mike. “Sorry,” he whispered, looking at the floor.
I rolled my eyes. “Anyway, Sam’s a vampire, and you’re a werewolf. So what does that make you?” I asked, gesturing to Charlie. “Santa Claus?” When I said that, Mike stifled a laugh, and I glared at him. “What?” I hissed, thinking that he had better have a good reason for laughing at me. I was ready to kill, and I knew that he saw it in my face because his slight smile vanished.
His eyes widened at my hostility. “Nothin’,” he whispered cautiously.
Charlie sighed. “No, Pat, I am not.”
“Are you human?” I asked, and he shook his head. “Oh God,” I said, feeling dizzy again, so I took another bite of the bagel. “What are you then?”
“A golem,” he admitted.
“A what?” If I wasn’t confused before, I sure was now. I’d never heard of such a creature.
“A mythical creature made of inanimate objects that lives only to serve,” Charlie explained, and he was excessively cheerful about the whole thing.
I placed the plate and the bagel down on the coffee table and folded my arms across my chest. “Are there any other things that you gentlemen would like to tell me?” I asked. “Like my best friend’s a troll or my sister’s a witch?” Now that I would believe, but they both shook their heads. “All right then.” Two thumbs up. This was just turning out to be a banner day. I should’ve stayed in bed. But then again, that’s where this whole thing started.
“Does Samuel know what you two are?” I asked, and they both nodded. “So it was just me who didn’t know?” They nodded again, and I sighed. “You should’ve told me.”
Charlie’s mouth was set in a deep frown. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Pat,” he said solemnly.
“I wasn’t talking to you, Charlie,” I said, walking over to him and patting him on the shoulder. “I’m talking to you,” I screamed and smacked Mike on the arm with the same hand. “You lied to me!”
“Ow!” he said, rubbing his arm. “You’re mad at me?” he asked, his face all scrunched up. “But you’re not mad at him?” He jerked his thumb toward Charlie. “How’s that fair?”
Narrowing my eyes at Mike, I turned my attention toward Charlie, as sweet as pie. “Charles,” I said with a smile, “would you leave us alone, please?”
“My pleasure,” he said, bowing his head. Then he got up, glared at Mike, and left us alone.
I stared at Mike without blinking. He needed to lose the attitude. And fast. “What?” he asked, finally checking himself, and I saw his shoulders slump.
I blinked. “Better,” I said calmly. “I don’t know what to do,” I huffed, running my fingers through my hair.
Mike sighed. “You can’t leave him.” Thank you, Captain Obvious. “He’ll just find you.”
“I know that,” I hissed. “Don’t you think I know that?” I walked into the foyer, and I knew he’d follow.
“Pat,” he said, grabbing my arm, turning me to face him. “We’ll figure it out. I promise.” He looked me in the eyes, and I knew that he meant what he said. “Come on,” he said, pulling on my arm with a smile. “I wanna show you somethin’.” I nodded, and he took me through the house.
He led me down an unfamiliar hallway and up to a heavy-looking wooden door. Then he smiled at me, eyes sparkling. “Do you trust me?” he asked, and I nodded. He pushed the door opened, and we walked out through the ivy. Mike moved some of it out of the way so that it wouldn’t touch me, but once we were outside; I noticed that we were in the garden I’d seen from the bedroom window.
Seeing it in person, it was twice as beautiful. There were red and white rose bushes that lined the walls on either side of the door. As I looked around, I noticed that every other flower was a different color. It was like stepping into a rainbow of petals and leaves. It was warm out there (even though the day before was much colder), and I couldn’t help thinking that there was a supernatural reason for it.
Slowly, I walked around this Secret Garden, so to speak, and found myself dazzled by the stone fountain in the middle of it all. This particular piece was gothic with a twist. Instead of cherubs flying around a beautiful woman, it was a wolf howling while being bitten by bats. The water flowed out of the wolf’s mouth and into the bottom of the fountain, and I shivered.
“Sick,” Mike whispered in my ear, and I jumped, “isn’t it?”
“It’s awful,” I grimaced, turning away from it. I buried my face in his warm chest, breathing in his smell.
He wrapped his arms around me. “It’s okay, bébé.” He laughed, and his chest rumbled. “I’m used to it.”
“Used to that?” I asked, pushing away from him and gesturing toward that thing. “How could you be used to that?”
He shrugged. “We’re enemies. It’s pretty easy.”
“So…” I paused. “Why are vampires and werewolves enemies?”
He sighed. “Ya know, that’s a good question.”
“Are you going to answer it?” I raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response. We walked around that hideous fountain then he took my hand, leading me to a stone bench.
He sat first, and when I tried to sit next to him, he pulled me onto his lap. “I guess I’m gonna have to answer now,” he said with a smile playing around his lips.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, noticing the dramatic contrasts of our skin tones. Mine was whiter than ivory, while his was almost a caramel color. “So,” I said, poking him in the chest, “tell me.”
Mike cleared his throat. “Well, it’s kinda hard to tell if the hatred came first. It’s sorta a chicken-and-egg situation.”
I nodded, trying to follow his train of thought. “Okay.”
“Legend has it that years ago we…us werewolves,” he clarified, “were enslaved by the vampires as their protectors. But in the teachings—in my pack, anyway—they say that the vamp is our enemy because of our differences.”
“Which are…?” I prompted, trying not to upset him.
He grimaced, looking like he was trying to figure out how to tell me. “Um…well…for example, we don’t drink blood, and we shift into a different species. And they…well…they don’t.”
“So that whole thing about bats…?” I began.
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“Hm,” I said, smiling a little, “you learn something new every day.”
He sighed. “Yes, you do.”
“What?” I asked. His face seemed troubled.
“I’m kinda waitin’ for you to run,” he said with a slight smile.
I kissed his nose. “You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.” I placed my head on his shoulder, and he held me tighter. Then he slid me off his lap onto the cold stone bench.
“Close your eyes,” he said, winking at me.
“Why?” I asked as he stood.
He smiled down at me. “I wanna show you somethin’.”
“Are you going to turn into a wolf?” I raised my eyebrow at him.
“No,” he said, backing away from me. “But I do understand the confusion.
Now close your eyes,” he commanded softly, his green eyes pleading with mine. So I did as he asked.
I took a couple of deep breaths and inhaled the sweet perfume of the flowers. Then I heard some scraping, and I pulled my knees up to my chest. “Okay.” Mike sounded far away. “Open your eyes.”
They fluttered open, and I looked around for him, but he was nowhere in sight. “Mike,” I called, “where are you?”
“Up here,” he yelled, and my head shot upward. I looked at the sky at first, until my eyes came to rest upon the back of the house. There, hanging onto a white gargoyle on the roof of the mansion, was Mike.
“Michael,” I screamed, jumping off the bench and running toward him. “Get down!”
“Down?” he asked. “Did you say down?”
“Yes,” I yelled at him. “This instant!”
He shrugged. “Okay.” The second he said it he let go of the statue, and I screamed. I watched him hit the ground before me on his feet. Then he gently took hold of my shoulders. “Bébé,” he said with a smile, “you can stop screamin’ now.”
My scream faded as I wrapped my arms around him. Then I pushed back and hit him on the shoulder. “Don’t ever do that—” Before I could finish scolding him, he kissed me with such passion that I felt it in the ground around me. But when our lips parted it felt as if the world broke apart. “Again,” I finished my sentence.
He smiled down at me. “Was that for another kiss or were you just finishin’ your sentence?”
I gulped. “Both.” But when he leaned in again, I pulled away, biting my lower lip. “But first,” I said, smiling awkwardly, “you have to catch me.” I backed away from him and started to run around the garden with Mike’s footfall steadily behind me.
Never in my life had I felt so free and happy. And I couldn’t believe that I was laughing, smiling and having so much fun running around this beautiful garden.
“Oh, come on,” Mike huffed and puffed, as I narrowly missed his grasp.
I giggled. “For a werewolf, you sure are slow.”
He shook his head. “For a human, you sure are fast,” he said, grabbing at me, but I dodged him easily. “Damn,” he panted, because I was clearly running circles around the wolf. “Bébé,” he yelled, tripping over something and falling face first on the ground.
I ran over and knelt beside him, worried because the fall looked like it hurt. “Mike,” I said, my hands hovered over him. “Are you all right?”
He grimaced for a moment, and then grabbed me and pulled me down on top of him. “Gotcha,” he laughed in my ear.
I hit him gently. “Oh, you,” I said, propping my elbows up on his chest.
“Boy oh boy,” he said, shaking his head a little. “You’re somethin’ else.”
“What do you mean by that?” I asked, placing my cheek on his chest, and letting my arms drop.
“Just to smell you is a joy,” he whispered.
“Oh really?” That surprised me. “And what do I smell like?”
“Lavender.” He paused, sniffing the top of my head. “With just a hint of my momma’s pecan pie.”
I grimaced. “That can’t smell too good.”
“Oh,” he breathed, “but it does.”
After a moment of silence I said, “Mike?”
“What is it, bébé?” he asked, stroking my hair.
“What do you think of me?” I asked, Samuel’s words buzzing around in my head. Heartless, he had said.
“What don’t I think of you?” he said, kissing the top of my hair. “You’re a darlin’ girl with a blood-stoppin’ smile and a good heart. You’re the best kind of woman, a woman that I could…” his voice faded away.
“Finish,” I almost begged him, looking up into his eyes. “Please.”
He looked down his nose at me, his green eyes soft and warm. “Why’d you ask me that?”
“Why didn’t you finish?” I deflected. Yes, I can do it too.
“A woman I could kiss forever,” he finally finished, but I had a feeling that wasn’t what he was going to say.
“What’s stopping you?” I asked, leaning up just waiting for him to make his move, but he didn’t.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, the smile gone from his eyes.
I sighed, shaking my head. “I asked because of something Samuel said. It’s really no big deal.”
Mike put my head in his hands, looking into my eyes intensely. “What did he say?” he asked, his voice sounding unlike himself. It was rough and deeper than usual.
“He said I was heartless.” Saying it aloud didn’t make it hurt any less.
Mike’s eyes blazed with anger. “What?”
I shook my head out of his hands, getting up off the ground. “I shouldn’t have told you,” I said, starting to walk toward the house, but he caught my arm.
“Bébé,” his voice was back to normal, “what’d I say?”
I huffed. “I don’t need you to stand up for me, Michael. I’m very capable of doing it myself.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t,” he said, sweeping my hair behind my ear. “Pat, what’s wrong with you?”
“I’m a heartless bitch,” I scoffed. “That’s what’s wrong with me.”
“Patricia Anne Wyatt,” he scolded, “if you believe that blood sucker, you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”
I slid my arm out of his hand, running back inside. I made my way through the dark hallway and into the foyer, sitting on the stairs with my head in my hands. Then I heard Mike’s footsteps, and I felt the air in front of me grow heavy.
“Darlin’,” Mike said, placing his hands on my knees, “you’re not heartless. You’re anythin’ but.”
I dropped my hand, seeing that he was on his knees in front of me. “How do you know?” I asked quietly.
He smiled up at me. “Like I said, you’re the best kind of woman. You are the most carin’ woman I’ve ever met. How anyone could say that about you is beyond me.”
As I stared into his eyes, something in me just snapped. I stood, glaring down at him. “Well, you’re wrong,” I hissed. “Would a woman who had a heart let the man she really likes be stuck the way you are?”
Mike stood, smirking at me. “You like me?” he asked, trying not to laugh.
“This isn’t funny,” I yelled, folding my arms. “You want to know how not funny this is? I asked Samuel for a divorce.” I had no idea where this was coming from. But as soon as I said it, I felt better.
“Are you insane?” he yelled at me, throwing his hands up. “Didn’t we go over this a few minutes ago? Are you tryin’ to get yourself killed?”
As soon as he said that, the flash of an alleyway came into me again. Samuel was on his knees in front of me, his fangs sinking into my thigh. Then I blinked, focusing on the conversation at hand. “Well, excuse me for not consulting you first,” I screamed, “before I decided to get out of a marriage that isn’t working!” I threw my hands up at him. “I figured you’d be happy. After all, weren’t you the one who said that you would be my lawyer when I decided to divorce him?”
“Yeah,” he sighed; his voice still agitated. “But I didn’t actually think you’d do it.”
“You’re not making any sense,” I said, tapping my temple. “How can you pretend to have any feelings for me if you don’t truly want me?”
“I don’t want him to hurt you,” he hissed, grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me. “Please stay with him until we figure somethin’ else out.”
“I don’t want to stay with that monster,” I said gently. “I want to be with you.”
“Well,” he said, his hands sliding from my shoulders, “you can’t be with me right now, Patricia.”
“Why not?” I asked, shaking. I was so frustrated I felt like I was going to scream.
“Because,” he yelled, closing his eyes, “I don’t want you to get hurt!”
“You keep saying that,” I whispered. “But you should’ve thought of that before you did what
you did last night.”
“My God,” he said, opening his eyes. “You really just don’t care about your own safety.”
I blinked at him. “You’re right, I don’t care. I’m leaving him with or without your permission, Michael. And if you can’t understand that what I’m doing is not only for me, but for us, then maybe we should just end this.” I took a deep breath. “I don’t need you to be my knight in shining armor, Mike. I just need you to have my back, and if you can’t do that, you should just leave.” I turned on my heels, walking up the stairs.
“What are you doin’?” he asked my back.
“I’m going to go pack.” I told him, running up the rest stairs and into the master bedroom. I slammed the door behind me. I needed a minute alone, but the image of Samuel on his knees in the alley came back to me. It wasn’t a dream. It was a memory, and I knew where the evidence of it would be. In Samuel’s sketchbook.
I walked over to the bed, and knelt beside it. Then I went down on all fours and reached for it. When my fingers touched its course exterior, my heart stopped, and I pulled the book out, quickly placing it on the bed before I could chicken out. Then I got up off my knees and sat next to it.
I bit my lip, closed my eyes, and flipped the book open. I waited a second and then looked down at the first page. I was shocked by what I saw.
It was a woman—or what used to be a woman—sprawled out in the gutter. And I can’t explain what shocked me more, the fact that her clothes were torn from her body or the fact that she was split open from naval to nose. I think it was the latter.
I placed my hand over my mouth in order to stifle the scream that almost escaped my lips. I was horrified, and I shook when I flipped the page again. The next drawing was worse. This girl had her head between her legs, only it wasn’t attached to her neck. I had to turn the page.
There were dozens of pictures like that, each one more blood-ridden and horrifying than the last. But it changed when I came to my picture. It was beautiful. Never in my life had I looked so unlike myself. My hair was tousled, and my eyes sparkled. I looked beyond human.
Thinking that it was the last drawing, I turned the page to check. But when I did, there were more pictures, all of which were of me—me smiling, me sleeping, me looking over my shoulder at him, me in that same alleyway, eyes glazed over and looking paler than usual. Everything was…me. Then I got to the last drawing, and I couldn’t believe what I saw. It was Mike and I kissing in the hallway.
