Silver

by Pieslak, Dixie

  I heard a few quick words in muttered French and felt a push in my head. Automatically I resisted. Brecken swung me around, trying to block my eyes - but I got a full view anyway. Furniture overturned, holes in the wall. Louie, his sweater ripped to shreds, chest and arms covered in blood, leather pants torn, a jagged slash from his eye to his neck. A meaty chunk of flesh hung open on his side and his bloodied hand flicked a fire starter against two bodies, a male, not Russell, and the female from the beach. They were lying half across each other and rancid flames rose and - oh no - the woman's arm was moving.

  Brecken whispered my name again and again as he carried me to his car. He wiped hard on his jacket and the car light shone on him. Cuts on his hands and deep gashes raked his face. Vicious wounds that he ignored.

  “Are you hurt, Henna?” Still the pressure on my brain and blood oozed on his cheek.

  I froze. Pretend he's controlling me. He touched me all over, looking for wounds. I blinked and watched a dark bruise on his jowl fade. Fuzzy words, low and flat to fool him. “I'm not hurt, Brecken.” I lowered my eyes to his hands. The cuts were disappearing. A slow look at his face, but the blood was gone. He was surreptitious, cleaning fast, believing I hadn't seen. He kissed the tip of my nose and stood. But he limped as he rounded the front of the car.

  We drove over the curb and the pressure in my head was gone. “Louie?” I looked behind us and started babbling. “They were going to kill him. You saved his life, Brecken. And me.”

  Brecken twitched nervously. “Louie's fine. He’ll go deal with things at the beach.”

  I pictured the chunky gape in Louie's side and shoved it from my mind. Remembered Brecken's limp and - no choice - I shoved it aside, too. “Is he going after Russell?”

  His eyes trailed my face. “Russell and the other guy are gone. Are you sure you want to talk about it?”

  I didn’t, but I needed to. It helped me process and I could tell he wanted to know how much I saw. He touched me as we drove, assurance that he was there and I was safe.

  No point in being scared now and I wanted Brecken to believe I was all right. Can't let him know that I saw his wounds and the wrecked house and saw the bodies and the fire.

  I hugged my churning stomach and gave him the basics. It was like walking a tightrope, telling him about the hours with Russell and not revealing the weirdness and that I knew how it ended. I told him about Alina, the taser gun and waking up in the bedroom. I told him about the bars on the windows and the impossibility of escape.

  I should be numb, but I was completely energized. I couldn’t seem to stop talking and Brecken listened so carefully, sucking up every word, while I stared at the healed purity of his skin. I told him about the harmonica and endless TV, about mindless talking and the fire pit and my attempt to escape. And finally, the squabble - no, the battle - with Vanna on the beach.

  “He called the big one Dagger,” I said.

  He gave a sharp nod, mouth tight. “So the other one was Jose.”

  It was a low mutter I shouldn't have been able to hear. I ignored whatever that meant and ignored his sopping shirt and told him about Russell’s sudden departure and meeting Louie. I didn’t even remotely approach any details that might allude to the “V” word. Not a hint, because I was sure he listened for clues like that. Nor did I mention my mother.

  “I’m sorry it took so long to find you,” His voice was tender, but I heard agony, too.

  I put my hand on his leg, felt a sticky splotch. “Louie said Conor helped look for me.”

  “Yes and he also phoned the Tavern. Jeff thinks you’re sick, like Christina.”

  “How do you know she’s sick? Did you talk to her?”

  Not surprisingly, he avoided that question. “Where are your clothes?”

  “I don’t know and I don’t care.” I fingered my onyx necklace and a sudden thought struck. “Who knows about this? The police? What about my car?”

  “Conor has your car and no one knows, Henna. You can report it tomorrow if you want. I’ll go with you.”

  I imagined myself making up lies. “No. Please, no telling anyone. It’s over and I don’t want drama. They wouldn’t catch him, anyways.”

  He kind of jumped, gave me a searching look, then nodded. “What else can I do?”

  “Be here for me. And don’t ask me anything after tonight. This is a one time talk.”

  His eyes flashed. “All right. I’m here, Henna. Not going anywhere.”

  “Thank you.” I released the seat belt, stretched across his chest and snuggled my head to his shoulder. At this moment, all that mattered was already here. I had my own personal body guard, unlike any other. Unspoken details lay to the side. In a few days maybe I’d go through this whole incredible week. Just no more tonight.

  At my request Brecken drove me straight home. He walked me inside, checking the house like any guy would do. I knew the check was a farce, for my peace of mind, since he knew very well no one was there.

  We found Christina asleep. I wanted him to lie with me and at the same time I wanted to be alone - with him outside. I went back and forth between the two and let him decide. He went for proper, saying he would see me in the morning, but not one ounce of me believed he was going home.

  At the front door Brecken pulled me tight and folded his body around me, kissing me carefully, then with urgency, breathing against my skin and running his hands up my back and through my hair until I was gasping and thought I’d fall over right there.

  “You need sleep,” he kept saying. And he made sure that sleep had no allure for me, whatsoever. I clung to him, forgetting what he was and thinking only that he was Brecken and I was under the force of his mouth.

  Finally he tore loose and - no limp - trotted down the steps to his car. This time I understood. This time I loved the craze for me that made him pull away. I knew his secret and I meant to keep it.

  I wanted to wash the dregs of beach and Russell from my body. I showered, cleaned the sand from the tub and filled it with flowery bath oil and the hottest water I could stand. Mind empty, I let the heat soak in.

  Later, while brushing my teeth, I checked the raw scrape on my cheek and saw - nothing. Staring, I stripped off my pajamas. No soreness, no bruises from getting slammed to the hard sand. Huh? But I couldn't let my brain spin anymore. And I needed to call my Mom.

  I lucked out and reached her. She was her cheerful self and I realized she knew nothing about the kidnap. Russell lied. But why bother? What was that all about?

  In bed, Sonar hugged tight and Brecken somewhere outside, the last vestiges of my sheltering walls finally relaxed and - dressed in leather and teal, eyes twinkling - Louie walked into my head.

  That might be normal, under the circumstances, but he was on a beach with a girl in his arms and his mouth at her throat. And it suddenly hit me. Louie was a blood drinker!

  I‘d given it no thought, not once, not in that way. They didn’t eat, was all I thought, never taking the next step. Now, my head took the step for me and I knew. Louie has done … that.

  I sat up, one question burning through my brain. If Louie was a blood drinker, what did that say about Brecken?

  Chapter 70

  The best thing was a normal routine. Work, sing, love my dog and spend a huge amount of time with Brecken. No jogging, though. I valued that hour in my own house, in my own room and my own bed.

  Conor has taken a couple of days away so I've been performing every night. I didn’t mind, except I wanted to thank him for covering for me and for taking care of my car. Conor is what I know he is, but I appreciated that he's never been as covert as Brecken. And as I am these days.

  As luck would have it, the PR entered another tough stretch, with extra hours required. I'd given myself that one night to recover then put the horror behind me. Not unhealthy avoidance. Healthy acceptance and moving on. And Brecken was around all the time, everywhere. Lots of hugs and kisses, but no long ones, no lying on the lounge or legs around his waist and I w
as okay with that.

  “I know you want to protect me,” I told him over morning coffee. “But I don't want to live scared. It would ruin my life, so you can’t keep hovering, even if you want to.”

  He squinted at me for a moment. “I see. Fine, Henna. You be cautious, and I'll be casual.”

  “You casual? Funny.”

  “FYI,” he made it sound casual, “Louie wants to hear you sing. I’d like to bring him to the Tavern.”

  “Sure. Consummate performer here, don’t you know.” I preened, flipping fingers through my hair. “Surprises don’t bother me when I’m singing.” Then I faltered for a second, knowing that wasn’t entirely true anymore.

  “Really?” he said. “I hate surprises.”

  Avoid that. “Oops, Brecken, what time is it? It's the last day of rush, rush and I can’t be late.”

  He stood and took my hand, turning it to brush his lips against my palm. I was already dressed, so he held my hand and walked me across the campus and up the stairs to PR. The whole way, my palm tingled.

  Louie coming to hear me sing? I began to mentally switch around my normal repertoire. One tune I'd sing for sure. If he was in the Tavern, I'd end with my new song.

  I hung up from Amie's call and Louie strolled through my front door, his black leather coat swirling through the evening cool. I snorted and rolled my eyes at the long coat, then went for my closet.

  He laughed when I came out. “These coats have seen a lot of nights. Nice to wear them again.”

  “So true. Sheer drama, even for flair loving California.”

  He pulled me to the long mirror and surveyed our appearance. “Do we look like this is the East Coast.”

  “More like 1850's Prague or Berlin.” I tugged at the scarf draped under his collar. “I'm not wearing one of these. It's got to go.”

  We may have looked like winter, but underneath were light sweaters, not bulky woolens. The coats were self indulgence, for fun, for the pleasure of expensive attire and for effect. And Louie intended effect at the Tavern.

  I was eager to go. “Let's hit it, brother.”

  I swayed to the music and swept my eyes over the audience, willing them to love me. But on the inside I was annoyed because Brecken’s table was occupied and not by him.

  It seemed like a night for newcomers. The room was nearly full and I scarcely recognized anyone. However, all of the new faces made it easy for me. I pulled up tunes I haven’t sung lately and, in spite of my irritation, it was fun running through early favorites. I couldn’t exactly say the audience was attentive, but people clustered cheerfully around tables and glances kept returning to me.

  I was on the third song of my last set when I felt the brush of vibrant energy that meant Brecken was here. A second wave pulsed through the air, obviously felt only by me. I tensed slightly and angled to the entrance.

  Like a slow motion scene, every frame exposed in detail, Brecken and Louie entered the Tavern. Two incredibly arresting men in long coats, apparently striding in perfect slow motion. All faces turned to them and their eyes fixed on me with identical expressions of excitement.

  I nearly faltered but caught myself and played on, my eyes glued to them just like everyone else’s were. It was almost magical, those slow seconds, the crowd seeming to part as they passed, their long coats swirling wide with each step. The force of their appearance and their steady gaze was mesmerizing. Brecken’s mouth curved in a sexy smile and pitter patter went my heart.

  They slid gracefully into Brecken's suddenly vacant booth and the room stirred into nervous chatter. I sat on my platform, washed in attention from two other worldly creatures who - after that grandiose appearance - blandly ordered margaritas and pretended not to be vampires.

  They had done it on purpose, I realized. Made an entrance, brought attention to themselves, stirred the patrons with some vague sense of awe and, I suspect, passing unease. And now they were grinning, thoroughly pleased with themselves, and I was on my platform singing only to them. Brecken raised sheepish eyes and winked.

  I winked back and continued with the older tunes, none of them about me, until the end of the set. Then, as planned, I sang my new song from Santa Barbara. The one about them and others like them.

  “Did it happen?” I began. “Did you dream? Was it real? Do you recall? Just a chance encounter, across a crowded room.” And Louie was leaning forward, a concentrated, rapt expression on his perfect face.

  I debated the cowardly path but went for brave and looked straight at him as I sang. Then Brecken spoke to Louie and their eyes moved from mine. But not their attention, no. They were grouped as one now, and I wished I knew what Brecken was saying that made Louie glance at me so knowingly.

  My set was over and Jeff put on background jazz and my insides jittered with the thought of facing Louie. The last time I saw him he was torn and bloody, in need of a doctor and stitches. But no stitches required for him. I left my guitar on the platform and, with a deep breathe, I took Brecken’s outstretched hand, gave him a proper kiss on the check and scooted in beside him.

  “Nice song,” Louie said. “Intriguing.”

  “Glad you liked it.” Suddenly I felt shy. Beyond Brecken and me, no one had any idea what I’d been through in the last week. Except, of course, Conor and this man sitting with us, seeing through my calm.

  It was different with Brecken and Conor. I knew them. Louie I didn’t know at all, yet I had the feeling that he knew me. I was sure Brecken talked about me to his oldest friend. How old? How old was the friendship and how old was this stunning creature who, because of me, could have been killed that night.

  I had huge reasons to be grateful to Louie and I hadn’t ever thanked him. But my thoughts were quick and hopefully not apparent on my face, because four eyes were intent on me.

  “Louie, I never thanked you for, um - the other night. For calling Brecken and staying with me until he got there.” No mention of gashes and blood and bodies on fire that they didn't know I'd seen, but my heart pounded and I wondered if they could tell.

  Louie smiled slightly and dipped his head as he had done in the doorway of that house. I leaned against Brecken and the noise in the room seemed to rise, but we were sitting in an island of stillness, talking quietly yet easily able to hear above the crowd.

  Louie asked how long I’ve played, where I’ve performed besides here, did I write my own lyrics. Genuine, interested questions that I felt comfortable answering, and my tension eased. Was that natural or was Brecken or Louie doing it? Didn't seem to matter.

  The place began to empty a little and Brecken, as he always did, went to the bar to get my honey laced tea. And Louie lowered his voice - almost below a whisper. Yet, I could clearly hear him.

  “I know, Henna.” My body jerked. “I know that you know about Brecken and about me. I already suspected, but that song. The chance encounter? The perfect stranger? How could Brecken have missed that?”

  I was staring at the table, unable to breathe. He wasn’t done.

  “It’s your private knowledge.” I hung on his words. “I understand, Henna, so don’t worry. I’ll keep your secret for now. I won’t tell Brecken that you know what we are, but if you have questions, if you can’t hold it in, call me. I’ll tell you whatever you want to learn. And there’s a lot, Henna. The basic secret is only the beginning.”

  He told me his phone number and I felt it sear into my brain. Then I finally looked up, looked right past him at the glow that surrounded his head and body. He smiled, the shimmering radiance of his energy forming a flickering aura of molten fire and black and exquisite silver. For a second, a scant second only, he let him see me for the being he is.

  “You understand?” That granite and liquid gold in his voice again. His eyes flicked to Brecken and mine did, too. He was reaching for the honey to stir into my tea.

  I looked quickly back to Louie. The glow had faded, but the magic hadn’t. Once again I found myself in the presence of someone as powerful as Brecken and th
at person had just stripped away the illusion that I could hide my new knowledge. But no, I could still hide because Louie said he wouldn’t tell.

  “One last word, Henna.” His breathy whisper was still low, but the words tripped over themselves as he hastened to finish before Brecken came back. Could Brecken hear anyway? I guess not, since Louie would surely know what he was doing.

  “I’m not keeping your secret to betray Brecken.” His accent was stronger. “I do it because he doesn't want to know. We’re family and I love him. Watch yourself, Henna, and don’t ever underestimate him. Believe me, he’s far more, than you conceive. We both are.”

  His voice lifted slightly as Brecken approached. “I was telling Henna to watch out. She pretty much doesn’t know what she’s getting into, hanging with a guy like you.” He shook his head in jest.

  “Thanks, Louie. Remind me to warn off your girlfriend next time I see her.”

  “Soon, brother.” Louie stood, nodded at me, and in a few steps he was gone. And Brecken was straight after him, but turned at the exit, holding up a finger. He’d be right back.

  I cradled the comforting tea. Now what? The layers of secrets. Cheesh. I felt like a double agent, hiding that I’m hiding what I’m hiding. My lips tightened. I'll manage somehow. If Brecken wanted to tell me about himself, he would.

  In that moment I turned an unexpected corner. I'll try to be the girlfriend, not the double agent. I couldn't help wanting to learn what Louie meant by far more, but I wouldn't ask questions straight out. No feeling in his mouth for the fangs I knew were there somewhere. No half bagels to see if he ate when I already had the answer. The decision felt good.

  Brecken’s hand brushed my cheek, telling me he was back. I’d known anyway and I loved that I could know. At least that part was not a secret between us anymore.