Shadowfall Shorts: A Dark Legacy 1.5

by L Ann

  Hawk was just nearing his home-on-wheels (and dammit...he’d left the lights on again) when an approaching figure caught his eye. A girl, dark hair plastered against her head, soaked white t-shirt giving anyone who cared to look a clear display of the delectable goods beneath, blue jeans frayed and relatively open over both knees, carrying a pair of Doc Martins in one hand as she danced along the rain-soaked pavement and kicked up showers of gritty water like a child experiencing it for the very first time.

  “I’ll be damned,” he smiled to himself as she drew nearer. Recognition was instantaneous. “Dally? Is that you?”

  Her head came up sharply at the nickname and her eyes widened. Coming to a halt a few feet away, she studied him silently. Be casual, she thought, just say hi. She opened her mouth to speak...

  "I miss you..." Oh god! Her hand flew up to her mouth and she stared at him with wide eyes. "I mean... I meant to say... oh hell! I got nothing!"

  Same old Magdalena, Hawk laughed inwardly. Whatever was on the top of her mind was always the first thing out of her mouth. “What are you... how long you been...” He started and stopped, breaking into laughter again.

  “Come on. We can get into that later,” he held out a hand, waving with the other toward the motorhome. “Let’s get in out the rain first.”

  It took a moment - a full ten seconds, in fact - before Magdalena reached out to take Hawk’s hand. But then, considering the events of their last meeting, that was totally understandable. Hawk, however, flashed her a reassuring smile and allowed her to move beside him at her own pace. When they reached the motorhome, he opened its door and stepped back to let her enter first.

  “Same old Dally,” he said with a short chuckle, noting her appearance once they were inside. “Soaked to the bone. You always did love playing in weather like this.”

  Magdalena looked down at herself, and the puddle she was making on the carpeted floor, and smiled back at him.

  “Hungry?” he asked, to which she, again, responded wordlessly with a nod.

  “Straight through there,” He pointed. “The bedroom and bathroom. Towels are in the closet, right side of the bed. Take one of my shirts from the wardrobe...

  “Oh, and Dally?” he said as she started to move, “I missed you, too.”

  ~*~

  Entering the bedroom, she quickly found the towels, sniffing as she bent to scoop two up and noting the female scent lingering in the air, mingling in with the smell that was pure Hawk. She ignored the way her stomach flipped when she opened the wardrobe and got a stronger whiff of his smell, resisting the urge to bury her face into the material of the clothing before her.

  "I miss you?" she muttered under her breath. "What kind of dumbass thing was that to say?" She tugged out one of his denim shirts and placed it top of the towels, then carried them through to the bathroom.

  "I mean really!" she continued. Dropping the towels to the floor next to the shower she caught sight of herself in the mirror and groaned in horror. "Is it any wonder he always treated you like a child?" she asked her reflection. "You never look grown up when he's around!"

  Peeling off her wet clothes, she took a moment to squeeze out the rain from her tangled tresses, then turned the shower onto full and stepped beneath it.

  "God, that feels good!" The hot water stung as it hit her rain-cold flesh, and she tipped her head back letting it run over her face. It had been a while since she'd had the luxury of a decent shower, usually it was a quick luke-warm wash in a cheap bed and breakfast, but this... ahhh yeah, this was how a shower should be.

  She must have been standing there a good twenty minutes before she recalled where she was and who was at the other side of the door. Quickly, she turned the shower off and stepped out to dry herself. Wrapping her hair in the second towel, she pulled on Hawk's shirt, three sizes too big for her slight frame, rolled up the sleeves and then opened the bathroom door. She could smell tea, he must have remembered she preferred it over coffee and instantly questioned why that made her smile.

  She padded back through to the main area of the motorhome and silently perched on one of the breakfast stools, feeling suddenly shy.

  Hawk glanced at her from the stove while putting the finishing touches on their meal. He poured the cheese and green pepper omelette onto a large plate, then zipped across to the nearby window and caught the attention of a large dark-haired male at the entrance to the Needle. The man acknowledged his wave and disappeared inside.

  “Omelette and Canadian bacon,” he said while setting the food on the table. He brought over a cup, tea bags, and the kettle. “Sorry it’s not anything more elaborate. I’ve been on the road awhile and didn’t really need to shop for food,” He paused to smile at the distance sound of approaching footsteps, “Dessert should be arriving in about a minute.”

  "This really isn't necessary," she said softly, avoiding his gaze. Hawk's response was to simply pour a cup of tea, drop one teaspoon of sugar into it and then push it in front of her. That brought Magdalena's eyes up to meet his. The silence stretched between them while they gazed at each other. Magdalena shifted on her seat, uncomfortably aware that Hawk knew she couldn't keep silent for long. He'd done this to her before.

  "Stop it!" she blurted finally, drawing a half-smile from the man opposite her.

  A knock sounded on the motorhome door and Hawk rose to answer. He returned in the company of two young, rain splattered Humans, male and female. Without further preamble he led the female a few feet away, well into the kitchen area, and began feeding. Watching out of the corner of his eye, he saw Magdalena do likewise.

  When both had finished Hawk paid and thanked the pair and sent them off. He then went to the stove and prepared myself a mug of coffee. “So, tell me what you’ve been up to for the last thirty-plus years.”

  Hawk expected her to launch into a full descriptive narrative about her life - something she'd done every day they'd been together when he'd arrive home and ask how her day had been - but this time was different. Instead her face grew wary and she shifted her gaze from his to look around the motorhome.

  "I grew up," she said quietly.

  Before Hawk got a chance to respond, her eyes landed on a small figurine fixed in place atop the large tv screen on one wall. Jumping to her feet, she stepped across and stroked a finger across it gently.

  "You repaired it?" There were a million questions in her voice. The it in question was a small figure of a gypsy girl. The figurine had been made in Magdalena's likeness - a gift from Hawk early in their relationship. During their last final clash, she'd hurled it at him and as it fell to the floor it had broken into three pieces. It was one of many regrets Magdalena had.

  Hawk watched with a bittersweet smile while Magdalena carefully took the porcelain figurine from its spot atop the TV, cradling it between her slender, deceptively delicate fingers as though it were the most precious object in existence. The scene’s essence was a testament to the woman it featured, as well as the present situation.

  Hawk recalled that night - their last - as though it were yesterday.

  He had returned late (later than usual, truth be told) to their little ranch house in Pine Ridge from the Reservation at Rosebud; from a meeting with his great-great-great grandfather Chief Sun Horse and the tribal elders.

  There had been one stop. The woman – a blonde in a silver BMW on the highway. Her left rear tire had blown, and Hawk had stopped to help her. Of course, after changing the tire, he’d also taken the opportunity to feed. The Blonde, Meghan, had gotten a little too into the feeding euphoria and by the time Hawk descended from his own feeding high she had his jacket half off, his shirt unbuttoned, and one hand in his pants. He’d been tempted, no doubt about it. But he had broken her trance, and their contact, leaving her grateful and a tad disoriented, but sexually untouched.

  Funny... He remembered now that they had argued earlier. He couldn’t remember why. But he remembered the fight that came later.

  “Who was she, Hawk?”
Dally had snarled.

  “No one. Just a woman on the road,” he replied. “I helped her with a flat tire.”

  “And what else? WHAT ELSE, Hawk. Her scent. It’s all over you!”

  “I fed, too,” he’d said. And he realized afterward that he’d hesitated before answering. It was that hesitation, a moment of guilt, that sent her over the edge.

  Magdalena chose that moment to look at him and, misreading the look on his face, carefully placed the figurine back. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have touched it."

  Hawk effected a nonchalant shrug. "It's no big deal."

  Magdalena bit her lip and Hawk waited, certain she wouldn't be able to stay silent for long. Again, she surprised him by heading back to the kitchen area and returning to the meal he had prepared.

  Be careful, she told herself, repeating it over and over in her head. She picked at the food, inwardly savouring each bite - she couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten a human meal.

  "Dally?" His voice brought her eyes up again, her movements slowing as she gazed at him. It wasn't right that a man should be so handsome, she thought, unable to tear her eyes away.

  "Thank you," he responded gravely, and Magdalena flushed, realising she'd spoken out loud once again.

  "So..." she cleared her throat and began again. "What have you been doing? I could smell..." she nodded towards the bedroom.

  Hawk twitched an eyebrow. “Someone I met on the way here. She needed a ride to Seattle and we took turns driving.”

  “Driving?” Magdalena commented, avoiding his eyes.

  “The motorhome. And you asked that as if it matters. Does it?”

  And there was that wary look again, almost shuttered. She pushed the plate away, dropping the cutlery on top of the half-eaten meal and rose to her feet.

  "I- I should go. Thank you for the meal and the chance to dry off. My own clothes should be dry now, I'll just..." she trailed off and headed towards the bathroom.

  Hawk followed. She had just dropped his shirt to the bed and was opening the bathroom door when he entered. “Dammit Magdalena, don’t do this to me! Don’t walk back into my life after thirty years. After you staked me in a jealous rage and ran off... and now it’s ‘Nice to see you again, Hawk. Thanks for the hospitality but I gotta dash now’. Don’t do this! Talk to me.”

  She paused, one hand on the doorknob and turned her head in his direction. "What do you want to hear, Hawk? I was young and foolish, I had more invested in our relationship than you did. Yes, okay I reacted badly! But what do you expect when someone finds out they're just not good enough!" The bathroom door slammed behind her.

  Taken aback for a brief instant, Hawk gawked at the closed bathroom door, then recovered. “Not good enough? Who told you that? Who said you weren’t? Did I say...?”

  Did I say that, he suddenly stopped to think. Holy fuck, Hawk, you MORON! Did you?!

  He strained to remember. To recall the argument they’d had before he’d gone off to the Rosebud pow wow. Thirty years. Hell, even with a vampire lifespan (not to mention all that had happened since he started the ‘vendetta’) if was hard remembering all the details of the past.

  “Listen, Dall... Magdalena,” he called out. “I don’t remember saying that. And even if I did, I didn’t mean it. The time you and I were together, they were the happiest years of my life. And if you remember anything about me then you can sense I’m not lying.”

  The door opened, and Magdalena stood in the doorway, now wearing the still damp t-shirt and jeans, eyes flashing angrily.

  "What I remember about you, Jeremiah... Bluehawk... Devereaux," she punctuated each of his names with a stiff-fingered prod to his chest, "is you telling me I made you claustrophobic and you needed your space. Now tell me again why I should believe you?"

  BAM! The word claustrophobic and the phrase needed your space suddenly shook things loose. He remembered at least part of the incident. She had come to him at least a Dozen times in a matter of twenty minutes.

  ‘Hawk, which pair of shoes should I wear? Sandals or flats?’

  ‘Is this blouse alright with you?’

  ‘I can’t decide. Where do you want to go to eat?’

  “Come on, Dally. You’re making me work too hard at this,” he had finally complained. “The walls won’t close in and collapse on us if you made a decision on your own, you know.”

  “So, I make you claustrophobic?”

  “That’s not what I said. I just meant you need to take the initiative a little more. Gimme some time to breathe.”

  “Oh! So I’m crowding you and you need your space. Is that it?”

  “That’s not what I meant, Magdalena,” Hawk said softly. “But I can see now how you might’ve interpreted it that way. And then I come home late, smelling like I danced the Horizontal Mambo with another woman and...” He let the words trail off and sighed. “Okay, I won’t press you. You really want to leave, I understand. I wish you’d stay, but I won’t give you any grief about leaving.”

  "Give me any grief?" Magdalena's eyes widened incredulously. "Why, you arrogant... For your information, Hawk," she jabbed him again. "I did not walk back into your life. My sole purpose in walking down this street tonight was not to find you!" She ran out of words then and scowled at him. "Wait a minute! Are you telling me you have an ulterior motive for getting me in here?"

  “You really twist things out of shape, don’t you,” He caught her jabbing finger and held on. “Obviously you weren’t looking for me. Neither one of us knew the other was in town. And DUH... Why do you think I invited you inside? I like you, Magdalena. Loved you once. And maybe I still do. Finding you again wasn’t an accident, I don’t believe in them. I just wondered if maybe you still felt something too. Boy was I wrong there...”

  He released her finger and stepped back, waving toward the bedroom door. “Have a nice fucking night and be careful on your way out. I wouldn’t wanna be accused of making the rain so wet and slippery that you couldn’t help but fall on your paranoid ass.”

  Magdalena stared at him silently, then nodded her head. Reaching up she unwound the towel, allowing her hair to fall in a tangled, still damp, mess around her shoulders, then stepped past him, scooped up her boots and walked towards the door.

  “awwwwwwwdammit!” he groaned. He expected her to argue. To curse him. But she didn’t. And that silent, hurt expression KILLED.

  “Dally wait!” he called and took off after her. She was half way to the door before he caught her.

  “Okay... O-kay. Yes, I’m arrogant. And an ass. But I don’t wanna lose you again. You want me to beg?” He eased to the floor on both knees. “Don’t go. Please. Stay. If for no other reason than a warm, dry place to sleep awhile. And we can talk.”

  "I don't know, Hawk." Magdalena sighed. Even on his knees he wasn't much shorter than she was and those eyes of his tugged at her every time she looked into them. "We're different people now... mostly," she added with a half-smile. "You must have better things to do than sit talking about the past with me. You're obviously doing well for yourself," she indicated the motorhome with one hand. "And I'm pretty sure you're in Seattle for a reason and not on a whim."

  “My prosperity and my business are sort of connected. But that’s a long story,” he told her. “And my reason for being in town isn’t something I can wrap up in a few days. I’ll be here awhile. Indefinitely. I have time if you do.”

  ~*~

  After two bottles of wine, Magdalena had relaxed enough to not be on constant guard against what she might or might not say. While Magdalena regaled Hawk with tale after tale, Hawk said very little about the time they'd been apart. She sat on the floor in front of the sofa, cross-legged and a glass of wine held in one hand as she talked animatedly about one escapade after another as she'd travelled the length and breadth of the country. Hawk found himself laughing more than once at her self-deprecating humour - something he'd never seen before. Hawk, himself, lay stretched out on the sofa, his glass of wine on the floor.r />
  Giggling as she lifted her glass to her lips, she paused at the look on Hawk's face.

  "Hawk?" she spoke his name nervously.

  "You called me Jez," he told her.

  Magdalena frowned. "I did not!" Jez had been the name she had called him for the majority of the relationship, after having found out his real name.

  “Well, you meant to,” He laughed. “I miss that, too. I liked the way you always grinned when you said it.”

  Her eyes lowered, hiding her expression. She felt his fingers touch her cheek, then slide beneath her chin to raise her face.

  "Say it, Dally," he said quietly.

  Magdalena gazed at him and slowly, unwillingly, her lips moved. "I miss you so much," she whispered.

  Hawk swung his legs off the couch and sat up, holding out a hand to her. Magdalena took it and moved forward, knee-walking until she was within arm’s length. And then she stopped.

  “Hawk... Jez... I have to know first,” she said. “Why didn’t you come after me? Why didn’t you look for me?”

  Hawk sighed, caressing her cheek again. “That is a very long story. And you’re right. It’s one I think you have a right to know. Grab your wine,” he said, waiting until she retrieved her glass to pull them both to their feet.

  He aimed them toward the bedroom before beginning. “It was two, almost three days before anyone found me. As it turned out it was Abner Sun Horse’s grandson, Running Fox. I had lost a lot of blood and the hunger inside me was so acute that I came close to jumping the boy. I might have if he hadn’t told me what happened after he pulled out the stake...”

  Hawk paused for a moment as they reached the bedroom, then sat them both on the mattress’ edge and told her the entire story. From returning to the house at the Rosebud Reservation to find the old man beaten to a bloody pulp and dead. Mary Winter Rain, the boy’s mother, raped, beaten, and severely burned with cigarettes to tracking down the people who did it.

  Magdalena was white by the time he'd finished, one hand covering her mouth, eyes wide with horror. Head bowed, she wouldn't look at him as she rose to her feet. "I'm sorry... oh god I'm so sorry!" she whispered. "If I hadn't..." She fell silent, guilt gnawing at her.