Kiss Across Deserts

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  The last adult to step out of the limousine was the doctor. Alexander Karim. He had also accompanied the threesome to Vegas, which was one of the reasons that Rafe had arranged for him to be called as a character witness. And now he was getting out of the limousine with them, instead of arriving by his own transport, which would be normal. It spoke of a degree of closeness between him and the three.

  Marit, the child, was Veris’ biological daughter. The only way that might have happened was with the use of time travel back to when Veris was human. Rafe studied her as she slipped her hand into Brody’s, and looked around with big eyes.

  The flesh and blood off-spring of a vampire. For a moment, Rafe felt a touch of something close to envy.

  Then Edwina stepped forward to welcome them all into his home. Edwina was Rafe’s daughter—not a flesh and blood child, but his, nevertheless. These days she was posing as his great aunt and the manager of most of his life outside the courtroom. He watched her carefully-coiffed gray hair glint in the late afternoon sunshine as she turned to show them all inside, the gracious hostess.

  Rafe listened to them move through the foyer. Marit’s voice was high and excited. Edwina would have told her about the playroom downstairs, then. The soft contralto voice with the accent would be Mia’s.

  “Quiet, quiet, little one. This is not your home. You must ask before we hurry downstairs.”

  “Please?” Marit asked with a beseeching tone.

  “Of course you may, Marit,” Edwina replied. “Please help yourself to anything you need. There is fresh juice in the refrigerator.”

  “Cool!”

  “Yes, because you definitely need more sugar,” Mia replied. “We’ll be downstairs, if you need us.”

  “Thank you, Mia,” came another liquid, very feminine voice. That would be Taylor.

  “Through here,” Edwina said.

  Rafe got to his feet as the left-hand side of the door opened and the four remaining adults entered. Edwina didn’t come in. Instead, she closed the door behind them.

  Veris was the first to reach him and he held out his big hand. Rafe took it and for a moment, tension thrummed. He could almost feel the impact travel up his arm. Memories pushed themselves forward, demanding attention. Flashes of times long gone. The creak of a cart. Conversation. The hot sun beating down. The giddy feeling of freedom. And this man sitting beside him, not just on the cart, but other times after that, too.

  Veris’ mouth quirked at the corner. “Rafael.” There was a look in his eyes that told Rafe Veris was recalling many of the same moments. “You’ve stayed away far too long.”

  Rafe let his hand go. “It wouldn’t have been natural for me to visit, so I didn’t. Although, I regret the necessity,” he added truthfully.

  Brody stepped forward. “Rafael.” He didn’t hold out his hand, but he didn’t need to. As far as Rafe was concerned, both Veris and Brody had long ago by-passed human niceties like hand-shakes. There was a look on Brody’s face that mirrored Veris’. He was mired in memories, too, but they were different memories and different times.

  Rafe grinned at him. “Brody.”

  “It’s good of you to meet with us here instead of your office.”

  “We can talk with complete freedom here,” Rafe said. “Your trial, even by human standards, is complicated.”

  “The tape doesn’t make it a slam-dunk?” Brody asked.

  “In normal circumstances, it would be considered circumstantial evidence, despite the chain of evidence being intact. But before we get down to business, I would very much like to be introduced to your wife and your friend. We haven’t met under normal circumstances.”

  Brody stepped back. “Yes, of course. Rayner, I would like to introduce our wife, Maggie Taylor Gallagher- Gerhardsson.”

  “But you can call me Taylor,” Taylor said, stepping forward. She held out her hand and Rafe took it automatically. Human heat engulfed his flesh and her scent washed over him. It was a heady combination and he looked into her eyes and understood a small fraction of the reason why two vampires who had travelled the world over for centuries would choose this human to bond with and settle down.

  “It is very good to meet you, Taylor,” he told her. “I’m Rayner to almost everyone these days, but I would be honored if you call me Rafe.”

  “Thank you, Rafe.” Her smile was warm, echoing in her eyes. She oozed sexual confidence, as well she might with Brody and Veris as mates. It radiated all the way from her hair, which swung around her hips in flowing waves, to the silk shirt, trim trousers and narrow-heeled stilettos. “Do you need me to stay for this war council? I haven’t been called as a witness.”

  “I would like you to stay, yes,” Rafe told her. “You know the circumstances of this affair.”

  Veris drew the doctor forward with a touch on his shoulder. “This is Doctor Alexander Karim. He is a friend of ours, and has been for a long time.”

  Alexander Karim held out his hand. “Rayner De Leon. Your reputation precedes you. I only hope you are as good as they say. My friends are depending upon you.”

  Rafe gripped his hand automatically, processing the man’s word at the same time he was assessing his appearance. My friends. Well, Karim had the right to call them that in this time and place. Rafe didn’t and for a tiny moment, he felt a sliver of envy intrude. He mentally shook it off and let the doctor’s hand go. “I am an appeal court judge,” he said. “I am breaking with normal practice to try this case as a defense attorney. But the case has interesting legal points that let me justify this. That alone will ensure the judge behaves himself.”

  “Is there reason to think he might not?” Karim asked coolly.

  “There might be. Perhaps we should all sit at the table and get to work.” Rafe moved over to the antique boardroom table and took the head chair automatically.

  As everyone settled themselves around the top end of the table, he puzzled over his reaction to the doctor. He wasn’t sure of Karim at all. There were subtle signs about him that spoke of secrets—secrets beyond the great lie they told every day just by walking among humans as one of them. The man’s appearance was impeccable, from the closely trimmed beard to the neatly cut, glossy black hair, to the extremely fashionable trousers and open collar shirt. Even his shoes were immaculately polished. Maybe that was the problem. The attention to detail was a bit too precise.

  “Perhaps you should explain, first, why you think this case will be complicated?” Brody asked. “My days as a lawyer were long ago, but the principles are generally the same, still.”

  “Laws change slowly,” Rafe agreed. “One of the insights you gain as an appeals judge is just how slowly that happens. The problem isn’t with points of law, Brody.”

  “It’s the District Attorney,” Veris said, making it sound like he was finishing Rafe’s sentence.

  Rafe nodded. “For whatever reason, the District Attorney has decided that your case is the perfect example. He’s up for re-election next year and the war on drugs would be a good platform to do it with. If he can prosecute you to the fullest extent, he’ll look like a hero to the people.” Rafe spread his hands. “You have to remember that to the world, you’re a long-haired heavy metal singer, who has earned millions just for screeching into a microphone. The popular myth is that in between concerts, you spend your time inhaling drugs and screwing anything that comes near you. For most of the general public, the verdict is already in. They figure you deserve whatever you get and the harsher the punishment, the better.”

  Brody snorted. “If they only knew the truth about how I really spend my days.”

  “Exactly,” Rafe said. “We’re going to have to build a picture in the jury’s mind of a stable, mature man whose life is centered on his family.”

  “And that would differ from the truth at what point?” Karim asked. “You’ve just described Brody exactly.”

  “Except,” Veris said in a low, controlled voice, “Brody’s family consists of two spouses.”

 
Rafe sighed. “We’ll do our best to work around that. All we need to do is establish doubt in the jury’s mind.”

  “Why do you have to work around it?” Karim said sharply.

  Rafe looked at him. “Ménages are not legally recognized in this country and even if they were—”

  “That’s not the point,” Karim replied. He held a hand out toward Brody and Veris, who sat on opposite sides of the table, one next to Karim and one next to Taylor. “You’re suggesting that we try to hide that he’s married to two people because Joe Q Public might not like it and it will go against him in court.”

  “It will,” Rafe said flatly.

  “So Brody must lie about his life? Spend weeks avoiding the paparazzi if Veris is with him? That’s if the media don’t already have pictures of the three of them together in their archives. You really think it won’t come out if you try to suppress it? “

  “Doctor—”

  “No, I’m not finished,” Karim said sharply. “While he was just a rock star, the media didn’t raise much of an eyebrow about his domestic affairs. It’s unusual but it doesn’t come close to the sensationalism that some music industry people supply every day. But that all changes as soon as you try to cover it up. As soon as the media thinks you’re trying to hide something they’ll go after it like a mongoose after a python, and if you think they won’t find it all and emblazon it across every media channel in the world, you’re either a fool or a bigot.”

  Rafe raised his brow. “Exactly how much do you know about my personal life and history, Doctor Karim?”

  “Nothing at all,” Karim said coolly. “This is not about you. This is about Brody standing up in court and staying true to himself.” Karim leaned forward, closer to him, the expression in his clear gray eyes intense with some emotion Rafe couldn’t quite pin down yet. “You don’t know Taylor, Veris and Brody like I do. Oh, I know you knew them a long time ago, but you haven’t been privileged to be a part of their lives, where you get to watch them together. It’s not your fault you’re thinking it’s better to cover up the facts the world might find uncomfortable, but if you can get Brody to open up in court and explain what his family means to him, if you can get the jury to see how much he loves Taylor and Veris, and his children – all of them – then half your job will be done. Once the jury understands that, then reasonable doubt about the charges will come to them quite naturally.”

  Rafe glanced at the others, feeling like he had been cuffed across the face and was now blinking, pulling his wits together again. Taylor was staring at Karim, her expression soft and warm. Veris was smiling, a tight controlled expression, as he watched the doctor, too. Brody was looking down at the tabletop, clearly uncomfortable with being the center of such an emotional outburst.

  Veris looked at Rafe and raised his brow, a silent question.

  Rafe stirred and found the words at last. “Thank you for your insight, Doctor Karim. We’ll keep your idea on the table, as we form the trial strategy.”

  Karim sat back in his chair and pushed long fingers through his thick hair. “Very well,” he said stiffly.

  Rafe pulled himself back to business. “The first thing we need to do is go through what happened the night you were arrested, moment by moment. I want to know everything that was said, everything that you were thinking.” He glanced around the table. “You were all there, so between the four of you, we should be able to put together a moment by moment account.”

  Brody opened his mouth and Rafe held up his hand to forestall his protest. “No, it’s not usual, Brody, but I need to know everything, so we can construct a human story to account for any inhuman actions you might have taken. So let us begin with the phone call that brought you to the coach shed.”

  Brody sighed and dug in his pocket and tossed a cellphone on the table. “It was a text message. I still have it.”

  For the next eighty minutes, they went through the night minute by minute, backing up and filling in as needed. Because of Karim’s, Brody’s and Veris’ flawless memories, reconstructing the events wasn’t nearly as painful as it sometimes was with humans, but Rafe kept questioning, kept filling in every blank moment that arose. He also asked all four of them for their different perspectives of what happened.

  Brody naturally found the discussion very uncomfortable. Eventually, he sat back and put his hand on his knee and remained silent, his gaze downcast. Rafe had no doubt that the hand on the knee was held in a tight fist.

  But the more interesting perspective was that of Karim’s. The doctor had more or less taken over leadership of the affair, while Veris dealt with Brody on a medical basis and Taylor stayed with them. Stranger still, the three of them had not seemed to mind an outsider stepping in and dealing with the police on their behalf, arranging bail, and getting them all out of the station and somewhere safe, afterward.

  Karim didn’t paint it that way, but Rafe could see behind the words as he spoke clearly and smoothly, describing only the events as they happened. Karim’s narrative was remarkably free of emotional detours, subjective interpretations, or any of the biased perspectives that Rafe so often had to shave away before getting at the simple facts. Karim was doing half his job.

  It took a very smart man to edit himself down to the facts like that and Rafe found he was asking Karim more and more questions just because the answers were direct.

  As the four of them stood up to leave, and Taylor hurried ahead to collect Marit and Mia, Karim squeezed Brody’s shoulder. “It will be all right,” he said softly. He, too, must have sensed Brody’s distress.

  Rafe realized that he liked Karim, after all. He liked his intelligence, his sensitivity, and his loyalty to his friends.

  But he was still hiding something.

  * * * * *

  Alex pulled himself back to the current time and place with effort. It was harder to stay on top of the serum at these higher doses, which was only natural, but it made things very inconvenient, especially when someone knocked on the door. Like now.

  He forced himself to his feet, his muscles protesting, and pulled the robe around him, moving as quickly as he could. A glance at his cellphone sitting on the coffee table told him he’d been floating in his thoughts for barely forty minutes. It was just gone nine in the evening. But still, it was late for casual callers.

  Frowning, he made his way through the house to the front door. Everything was neat and tidy now and he was glad he’d remembered to notice this time. The dining room wasn’t quite perfect, for his papers sat in semi-orderly piles on the table, but it didn’t look like Hannibal and his elephants had marched through, either.

  Blinking hard to bring his focus back together, he opened the front door.

  Rafael De Leon stood on his doorstep. He turned to look at him as Alex opened the door and Alex took a step backward, confused. He tried to pull himself together. Natural! he mentally cautioned himself.

  “Do we have an appointment, your honor?” There, that was natural enough.

  De Leon tilted his head, studying him. “I don’t take appointments this late. Do you?”

  Alex tugged the belt of his robe tighter. “Clearly, I do not.”

  De Leon looked over his shoulder. “I’m not interrupting anything?”

  “My peace.” It came out shorter than Alex intended. The effect of the serum was rising inside him. He would gray out in a moment if he didn’t stay on top of it. He swallowed. His heart was slamming against his chest.

  De Leon was starting to frown, as he studied him. “Are you quite well?” he asked slowly.

  “Fine. I’m fine,” Alex said, but it was hoarse. He gritted his jaw. “This isn’t…” a good time, he had wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come. Focus! he railed at himself. Focus on the details. On the every-day.

  De Leon was speaking, but the words were distant and Alex barely heard them. He blinked, focusing on the man’s face. On his black eyes and the thick black lashes around them. On his wavy hair, that was longer than any judge Ale
x had ever seen before. The olive skin. The thick brows.

  Gradually, the serum slackened its grip. His hearing returned to normal.

  De Leon was stepping inside and shutting the door. The sound of the door closing was like the thud of a heavy vault door and made Alex wince. “What are you doing?” he demanded. Hadn’t he been about to say something? Had he said it?

  De Leon was looking at him. Looking at his eyes. “Although I can scarcely figure out how it possibly happened, it appears to me that you’re stoned, Doctor.”

  “Not.” Alex blinked.

  The furrow between Rafael De Leon’s brows deepened. “I’m not even going to start on what the fuck did you take that could possibly affect your vampire physiology. Let’s just start with getting you straight.”

  “You should…you have to go,” Alex said, but it came out weak.

  De Leon gripped his arm. “You’re swaying.”

  Alex licked his lips. They were dry. So was his mouth. And his heart wasn’t just galloping, it was ramming out beats like a steam engine at full pressure that could explode any second. He lifted his hand and pressed it against his chest and that small movement took real effort.

  From far away, the thought occurred to him that he was having a bad reaction. There were things he should do, that any doctor would do with a patient exhibiting his symptoms. But he couldn’t think.

  De Leon was shaking his arm again. “Alex!”

  Alex looked up. De Leon’s black eyes were huge and staring at him, but he had to struggle to focus again. “Sommeil,” he said, forcing himself to form the word properly so that De Leon would understand.

  “You need Sommeil?”

  Alex nodded.

  “That’s French. Are you saying you want to sleep, or that’s the name of something?”

  “Something.”

  “Where?” De Leon seemed sure Alex had it in the house.

  “Bathroom.”

  He felt his arm being hoisted, then he was turned and walked through the house. De Leon had good instincts. He found the bathroom without back tracking, dropped the lid on the toilet and pushed him onto it. Alex thrust his elbow out over the counter next to him to prop himself up.