by Ryan Field
He stepped up to the bar and smiled at her. He said, “I’d like a glass of vodka, please. A very large glass, the biggest one you have.” Then he pulled a fifty-dollar bill from his back pocket and handed it to her. “Keep the change,” he said.
She thanked him and poured his drink into one of the large soda glasses they didn’t use very often. When she handed it to him, he crossed to the other end of the bar and sat down next to Avenir on an empty barstool. Avenir was facing in the opposite direction and he didn’t notice him sit down.
Sienna had forgotten to give the man a napkin, and he had just handed her a fifty-dollar bill for one drink. So she reached for a white paper napkin and walked to where the man was sitting. She smiled and said, “I forgot to give you this, sorry.”
Avenir was still facing the opposite direction when the man thanked her. But the second Avenir heard this man’s voice he turned fast and said, “What are you doing here?” Avenir stared at him. His voice became low and his eyes widened.
Sienna watched them closely, pretending to wipe the counter with a wet rag. The dark-haired man knew Avenir? Was he another long lost LaFramboise relative?
The man smiled and said, “I thought I’d come up and pay you a little visit, old friend. I’m just passing through.” He turned to Sienna and said, “Avenir and I are old friends. We’ve known each other for many, many years.” Then he swallowed his entire glass of vodka in a few gulps, laughed, and slapped Avenir on the back.
Avenir clenched his fists and pressed them to his stomach. He sat back in his chair and squared his shoulders. He didn’t hug the man or shake his hand.
Sienna smiled. “Avenir didn’t mention he had any friends coming to visit him.”
“He didn’t know I was coming,” the guy said, “I wanted to surprise him.” He tried to slap Avenir on the back again, but Avenir pulled away this time with an intentional jerk. So the man smiled at Sienna and said, “My name is Bowen.” He didn’t offer a last name.
Sienna extended her right arm and shook his hand. It was large and strong, but unusually cold. “Have you been to Mt. Desert before?” She asked.
Bowen’s head went back and he laughed. He had a deep, throaty voice, and it sounded as if he was laughing from the bottom of his diaphragm. “Only once,” he said. “And that was a long time ago. But it was a very productive trip, indeed. And when my old friend here, Avenir, mentioned that he was moving here, I had to come back and visit.”
Sienna put her hands on her hips and smiled. “Well, isn’t that nice,” she said.
Avenir spread his legs wider and said, “Just wonderful.”
Chapter Seven
When the bar closed, Avenir went outside to wait for Sienna. She and Grace insisted on closing up alone, and he knew it would take them at least a half hour. Sienna liked to double check everything, and she wanted the bar in perfect shape for the next day. He also knew that Bowen would be waiting for him outside. Bowen had left a half hour before the bar closed, but on his way out he’d whispered to Avenir, “We have to talk. I’ll be waiting outside.” His breath had smelled of burning incense and cloves, which happened when vampires drank alcohol.
Avenir wore a black leather jacket. It was cold out, and he wore the jacket because he didn’t want to attract attention by not wearing one. He didn’t feel cold or heat the way mortals felt it. His body temperature was not ice cold, but it was normally around seventy degrees and it adjusted to climate changes within minutes. He stepped outside and crossed to his red Mercedes. Bowen was waiting for him in the passenger seat. The seat was all the way back and his feet were up on the dashboard.
He took a deep breath and got into the car, then he looked at Bowen and said, “What do you want?” Then he shoved Bowen’s feet off the dash hard. He didn’t like the way he was sitting. Avenir’s classic car was precious to him, and he didn’t want any scratches on the dashboard.
Bowen smiled pushed the seat forward. He reached for Avenir’s hand. “I only want to check up on my best creation,” he said. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m still the one who made you.”
Avenir pulled his hand back fast. Whenever Bowen touched his body, his heart thumped and his stomach turned. “I’m over one hundred years old now. You don’t control me anymore. I’ve paid my dues in full.”
Bowen laughed. “I may not be able to control you anymore. But the bond between us, my dear boy, will always be there. I’m the one who created you, and that will never change.”
Avenir gripped the steering wheel and frowned. Bowen looked like he was in his early thirties, but he was over one thousand years old. He was a strong vampire, and Avenir knew it. Bowen was right: they would always have a connection and Bowen would always be his superior. So he sighed and said, “Why did you kill Mickey?” He knew that Bowen had done it.
Bowen shrugged. “Because I could. Besides, he was no good anyway. A bad seed. And from what I can see, I think I actually did your sweet little lady and her brother a huge favor by getting rid of him. And, just so you know, he’s the one who approached me first. I did not solicit his attention.”
Avenir quickly leaned forward and reached for Bowen’s collar with both hands. He pulled him by the throat and looked directly into his eyes. Their faces were inches apart. “You stay away from Sienna,” he said. “She is a good, decent woman. I swear I’ll kill you if you try to harm her in any way. She’s been through enough.”
Bowen smiled and lifted his arms in surrender. Then he laughed and said, “Don’t worry, dear boy. I’m not interested in her at all.”
Avenir wouldn’t let go of his collar. “Her brother could be a suspect if they rule Mickey’s death a murder. Jaydin was the only one around and he can’t prove where he was that night. You’ve already caused Sienna enough trouble.”
Bowen leaned in closer and smiled. “I’ll take care of that. Her little brother will be cleared by tomorrow afternoon. Besides, like I said, I actually did him a favor.”
“What do you mean?” Avenir asked. “How will he be cleared?”
Bowen ran his palm down the side of Avenir’s face slowly. He caressed his cheekbone lightly and said, “I should leave now. Sienna is locking the door and I’m sure you don’t want her to see us this way.”
Avenir turned to the entrance of the bar. Sienna and Grace were fumbling with the old lock on the front door. He let go of Bowen’s collar and said, “Leave us alone.”
“You know this can’t work,” Bowen said. “I’m only here to watch out for you, because you’re my creation. You’re trying to get back what you’ve lost, and you can’t do that. You’re a vampire, like me, and like the others. You’re a cold-blooded killer and you have no feelings. And, most important, you can’t have a mortal woman because you’re the walking dead.”
Avenir lowered his eyebrows and said, “But I’m not going after what I lost. I thought I was, but I’m not. Sienna isn’t Adriana. She looks like Adriana, but she’s a different woman. I’m in love with her, and you’re not going to stop me.”
Bowen opened the car door and got out. He bent down and smiled at Avenir. “I’m actually disappointed in you,” he said, “I knew that I chose the best-looking man in the state of Maine on the night I created you, but I didn’t think I chose the dumbest one, too.” Then his head jerked to the left and he was gone.
When Avenir met Sienna and Grace at the entrance, they were just coming down the steps. Sienna smiled and said, “You didn’t have to wait. I feel as if I’m keeping you from more important things.”
“There’s nothing more important than you,” he said.
Grace’s eyebrows went up. She gave Sienna a hug and said, “You two have fun. I’m going home to get a good night’s sleep for a change. All this business with Mickey and Jaydin gives me the creeps.”
They watched Grace get into her car safely and pull out of the parking lot, and then they slowly walked to Sienna’s car. Halfway there, Avenir reached down and grabbed her hand. He felt her body tighten. “Is it okay
if I hold your hand?” he asked. He wanted to be sure he wasn’t frightening her.
Sienna shrugged and said, “It’s okay, I guess.”
When they reached her car and he bent forward to open the door, she lifted her gentle arm and placed it on his shoulder. He stopped moving and looked into her eyes. She hesitated for a moment, and then pressed her lips against his. He dropped her hand and put his arms around her small body. Sienna’s lips were soft and sugary and tender; she rested her palms on his shoulders and his chest heaved as if he couldn’t catch his breath. She’d made the first move this time, and he hadn’t expected that.
But when he lowered his hand to the back pocket of her jeans and pressed harder, she stopped kissing, pushed him away, and took a few steps back.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. He couldn’t catch his breath; his eyes doubled in size.
She shook her head a few times and took a quick, shallow breath. “I’m not very experienced with men,” she said. “I’m not sure I’m ready. And we really don’t even know each other.”
Avenir smiled and stepped toward her. He put his strong arm around her shoulder and said, “I’m not pushing you into anything. It’s fine, Sienna.” Though his chest was still heaving and he couldn’t get enough of her soft lips, he was ready to wait forever if that’s what it took to win her trust. Besides, he still believed in all the old-fashioned traditions with which he’d been raised.
She rested her head against his chest and said, “I know it seems like I’m teasing you, but I’m not. I had a bad experience once, and I haven’t been involved with any men since.”
“A bad experience?”
She nodded, then pressed her face to his chest. “I was in love, at least I thought I was in love, with a guy in Bar Harbor. We were practically engaged. I wanted to wait until after we were married, and he agreed. But then I found out that he’d been cheating on me with almost everyone in town. I was devastated, and I felt like a fool.”
Avenir clenched his fists and said, “I hate cheaters. I despise them. Infidelity makes me sick to my stomach.”
When he clenched his fists, his large chest muscles jumped up and down against her cheek. She laughed. “You must work out a lot, Avenir. Your chest and your arms are huge.”
He put his other arm around her and said, “A little.” But he hadn’t worked out in years. His body had developed well through all the rowing he’d done in his youth.
She laughed and squeezed his bicep. Then she pulled away and said, “We should go on a real date. If we’re going to get to know each other better, it’s really the next step.”
He blinked his eyes and jerked his head. “You want to court?”
She gave him a confused look and said, “Well, you don’t have to show up on my front porch with candy and flowers, for God’s sake. This isn’t l910. But a casual dinner somewhere would be nice.”
“What do you want to do?” he asked. He’d go anywhere she wanted. All she had to do was ask.
She smiled and took his hand in hers. “I’m going to be very busy this week helping Jaydin out. But we could go to dinner this Thursday night. It’s my day off and I’d like to stop by and see my grandmother for a few minutes. But after that, I know a great place where they serve the best lobster rolls in New England.”
He forced a smile. “That would be nice,” he said. But he wasn’t looking forward to it. Vampires could tolerate almost all human food except for seafood. All seafood caused an allergic reaction that was different every time. Just coming into contact with seafood could cause a problem. Some got hives, some lost their voices for weeks, and some actually became temporarily invisible. The older the vampire, the worse the side effect. He’d once seen a vampire in Paris touch a piece of shrimp with his index finger
and both of his hands tripled in size within seconds. And it took two months for them to go back to normal again.
“Then it’s a date,” she said. She kissed him on the cheek and opened her car door. “I’m going home. It’s been a long day and I want to see how Jaydin is doing.”
He squared his shoulders and said, “I’ll follow you to the entrance to Raspberry Hall.”
When Sienna pulled into the driveway at Raspberry Hall, she tapped her horn twice and waved her arm out the window. He waited for the gates to close and then he drove back to Oceanview. It was almost three in the morning and he had some work to do regarding one of his properties on the west coast. A small strip mall that he owned in Oregon was going through management changes and he wanted to send a few e-mails to his attorney.
He parked near the front door and left his car there, knowing that Mavis would put it in the garage later. When he walked into the main hall, Mavis was setting the grandfather clock that faced the stairway. The old clock was so large she had to stand on top of a stepladder. She was staring at the clock with her hands on her hips and her head tipped sideways. She was concentrating on the face of the clock and hadn’t seen him enter. He tapped on a rococo table in the middle of the hall and said, “I’m home.”
She turned and faced him. Her lips were pinched and her hands were still on her hips. “I’m glad, because I want to talk to you about something,” she said. “There are strange things going on around here.” Her voice rose with a lilt, as if she were excited and worried at the same time.
“Strange things?” When Mavis noticed something unusual, he was always ready to listen. She had good instincts.
She nodded and climbed down from the step ladder. “I keep setting this clock and it keeps stopping. I do it three or four times a day.” Her hair was pulled back in a French twist and a few strands were hanging from her temples.
“Maybe it needs repairing,” he said. “After all, until I moved in here it’s hard to know how long it was since it was last wound. Call someone and take care of it.” He hated bothering with small details. And because time meant nothing to him as a vampire, clocks were one of the small details he cared the least about.
She folded her arms across her large chest and moved her head back and forth. “No. There’s nothing wrong with this clock. I know these old clocks. They never break and they never need repair. And, I’ve actually sat and watched it keep perfect time for hours just to make sure. There’s something else going on here, and I’m not sure what.”
He started up at the ceiling and rubbed his jaw. “Come to think of it,” he said, “I’ve been noticing things, too. Nothing obvious, just little things.”
She leaned forward. “Like what?” Then she rubbed her palms together and smiled.
“The door to the west wing has been open every night when I get up,” he said. “I know it’s closed when I go into my room, and then it’s open when I leave. Have you been going in there?”
She shook her head. “No. But I’ve noticed it open, too. I thought you were going in there and leaving the door open. And I’ve been closing it.” Then she laughed and said, “I think I smell a ghost.”
He smiled. “They did warn me that this place was supposedly haunted when I bought it,” Avenir said, “but I haven’t heard from any real ghosts yet.” He didn’t want to tell her everything he’d experienced. Windows had been left open for no reason, chairs had been turned over, and lights had been left on in rooms that no one used. If he had mentioned all this, he knew he wouldn’t get any work completed that night. So he crossed to the staircase and said, “You keep an open eye and let me know what you find, Mavis. I’m going into the office to do some work before daylight.”
Mavis reached down and picked up the stepladder, then she closed the door on the grandfather clock and said, “I’ll get to the bottom of this. If there is a ghost, you can bet that I’ll find it one way or the other.”
Chapter Eight
On Thursday morning, Sienna woke early and baked more apple pies in Grace’s kitchen. She usually only baked her pies once or twice a month, but her grandmother had called on Tuesday and said that she’d given most of the last apple pie to her friends at the nursing ho
me and she was dying for another. And Sienna knew that Jaydin needed one of her pies. He’d been through a lot of stress in only a few days, and the pie, she knew, would ease his nerves and help him sleep at night. She also wanted to bake one for Avenir. He hadn’t had one of her pies yet, and she thought it would be a nice gesture.
This time she added a few extra ingredients to the pies, too. For some reason, whenever she added these embellishments, the healing powers of the pies intensified. She cut the apples smaller and added a hint of lemon zest. Instead of flour as a thickener, she used a special brand of tapioca that she had to go all the way to Bangor to buy. They sold it at a small gourmet shop, where they also sold herbs and remedies for healing. The apples had to come from an orchard that was located twenty miles from town, and she had to sort through them to be sure they were all the exact same size. But the two things that made these pies have stronger healing powers than her regular pies, she thought, were butter and pastry.
The butter for the pastry and the pie filling had to be made by hand. Not with an electric blender or a food processor. She had to stir and whip fresh cream herself, thinking positive, healing thoughts with each turn of the wire whisk. And she had to add a pinch of sea salt and fold it in gently. Table salt wouldn’t do. There was something about the sea salt that created healing energy.
When the butter was churned, she chilled it for an hour. And when it was cold, she used her fingers to mix the flour and cold butter together until the mixture formed little rounds that resembled English peas. Then she stirred in ice-cold water until the dough formed. She did this all by hand and barely worked the dough. The more she worked it, the tougher it would become. And the tougher it became, the less healing power it had.
