by Jessie Olson
“Yes, but you are passionate about the history of that place and the people who lived there,” Jen argued. “I think you would enjoy sharing it with this guy.”
“Yeah, even I found it interesting,” Jack grinned.
“And that is a remarkable thing,” Jen laughed. “It’s okay, Lizzie. It took Jack two months to recognize the fact I painted the bathroom. The one that we use every day.”
“I’m not thinking about walls when I do,” Jack scowled at his wife.
“I really liked that fireplace in the master bedroom,” Jen ignored her husband. “I wish I could do something like that in our house.”
“We don’t have a chimney in our bedroom,” Jack argued.
“No, but I could tile the one in the living room. Do you think that would be possible, Lizzie?” Jen asked seriously.
“It’s possible,” Lizzie shot a bemused glance at Ben as she took the last sip from her glass. She was amused when people asked her decorating tips. She was able to talk about one house’s wallpaper and furniture. It didn’t necessarily make her an expert on how to make any other house look the same way.
“Another round?” Ben stood with his bottle. She could tell he would bring it to the bar and pretend to exchange it for another. “Jack, another Guinness?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll have one, too,” Jen echoed.
“I’ll have another seltzer,” she offered her empty glass, seeing the burn in his eyes that made her impatient for the band to start.
“Lizzie, are you pregnant?” Jack asked abruptly.
“What?” Lizzie couldn’t restrain the volume of her voice. She saw Ben look suddenly from the bar.
“You haven’t had anything to drink all night,” Jack disregarded Jen’s disapproving glare.
“I…” Lizzie was able to contain herself from expressing the humor of his question. All the reasons that made a yes to that suspicion impossible. “I’m planning a long run tomorrow. It’s better if I don’t drink.”
“It’s going to be 95 degrees tomorrow,” Jack rolled his eyes.
“Exactly why she shouldn’t be drinking, Jack,” Jen elbowed his side.
“Right,” Jack glanced over to the bar where Ben was waiting. “Things are working out with Cottingham?”
“Yes,” Lizzie beamed. “Yes, they are.”
“Good for you, Lizzie,” Jen grinned.
“Yeah, that’s great,” Jack took the last sip from his pint glass. “Has he met Aunt Joan and Uncle Steve yet?”
“Not… as my boyfriend. They know him from high school,” Lizzie looked down, not ready to think too long and hard about that step of a relationship. Her parents.
“They will like him, Lizzie. How could they not?” Jen asked as Ben returned to the table with drinks, including his recycled beer bottle. Lizzie smiled at Jen, masking her discomfort. She didn’t know how to tell her parents that she finally had a boyfriend. And that he was a vampire.
“Jack, when is your next gig?” Ben settled back into his seat.
“We just agreed to play for a BBQ in September. It’s a fundraiser, so you’ll come for sure won’t you Lizzie?”
“What’s the cause?” Lizzie noticed the band finally take the stage.
“It’s a scholarship for… Melissa… my parents’ neighbors. You remember… that girl in the class ahead of us? She disappeared right before her graduation?”
“Melissa Benson,” Lizzie felt the joy of her evening suddenly sober.
“Her parents are hosting a barbeque in Coldbrook in September. It would have been her 35th birthday,” Jen explained.
“Sounds like a noble cause,” Lizzie glanced at Ben. He looked away from Jen and met her gaze with friendly eyes.
“Jack isn’t noble, Lizzie. He just wants the free beer they get for payment,” Jen smirked, as the band started their first song at top volume. Jack pulled Jen under his arm and turned to the musicians. Lizzie watched Ben, trying to observe if he would let down his guard for a second and show a delayed reaction to Melissa Benson. He didn’t show anything. Not one little expression.
*****
Lizzie held Ben’s hand from the bar back to his apartment. Her ears slowly unclogged themselves, but left her with little desire to speak. It was a good concert and a good evening spent with family. She was glad for the spontaneous visit they made to the Fulton House. And yet, in spite of those happy – good – details, she felt drained.
Her desire for the completion of the evening left her. She no longer let her mind drift back to her dream or supposing how Ben would bite her. She resisted a temptation to let Jack buy her a beer at the end of the night. She lost her desire, but knew from the burning look in Ben’s eyes that he had not.
She let go of his hand as he unlocked the door and walked silently up the two flights to his apartment. He stayed silent as she set down her purse in the living room and left to get a glass of water. She came back and saw his silhouette against the window. He was looking down into the street and turned very slowly to face her. Lizzie didn’t feel the impulse to return his smile. She set down her water glass and stayed motionless. “Which of you killed Melissa?”
Ben’s expression cooled suddenly. “I told you, Elizabeth. I haven’t killed anyone in many years.”
“So it was Oliver?”
“Have you been thinking about this all night?” Ben slowly left the window.
“I tried not to.”
Ben reached towards her and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry.”
“Did he kill her?” Lizzie didn’t reciprocate his embrace.
Ben straightened his spine and looked over her shoulder. “I don’t know.”
Lizzie pulled herself away to look at his face. “So you think he could have?”
“I think it’s a strong possibility,” he looked directly at her.
“What other possibility could there be?”
“I hope that he didn’t do it.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“There was no body, Elizabeth,” Ben shrugged. “I know as much as the police know about this case.”
“Except that your brother is a vampire.”
“So am I.”
“Yes, but you know that you didn’t do it,” Lizzie was unable to stare any longer at the burning expression of his eyes. “You don’t seem that confident about what Oliver did not do.”
“I’m sorry that this has upset you.”
“Me? What about her family? They didn’t even have a body to bury,” Lizzie cried. “She was only… seventeen.”
“I know,” Ben walked back to the window, the juxtaposition of the street light darkening him in the shadow again.
“That poor family,” Lizzie felt the exhaustion of a long day wash over her. She sat on the couch and rested her head against the cushions. She looked up at the ceiling, seeing the shadows of headlights move across the room. “Would you let that happen to me, Ben?”
“No,” Ben said immediately. “Why would you even think that?”
Lizzie let herself look at him and saw the anger in his jaw. “If something happened to me, how would you tell my family?”
“Nothing is going to happen to you, Elizabeth,” his voice was harsh. “I won’t let it.”
Lizzie felt a chill pass across her shoulders. There was something terrifying in his voice that Lizzie thought she should fear. There was something very honest and exposed, more than his declaration on the beach after Nora’s wedding. The strength of his anger was proof of his vulnerability. It was the reaction she hoped to see earlier. Only it wasn’t over Melissa Benson. It was about her.
“I won’t ever hurt you,” he declared with the same raw emotion. “I won’t let anyone else hurt you.”
“Do you think someone is going to hurt me?” she felt the thrill of her fear. “Do you think Oliver could hurt me?”
Ben paused without looking away. He breathed in slowly, “No.” He walked to the couch and sat beside her. Lizzie felt an imm
ediate comfort with his closeness, even as she still felt a haunting sensation frighten her senses. Ben’s arm pulled her close to him. He gently kissed the top of her head as she leaned against his shoulder.
“Andrew wants us to come to dinner on Friday,” Lizzie decided to let the subject fade into the silence.
“Oh?” Ben’s lighter tone indicated his relief.
“He and Davis want to cook us a meal,” Lizzie explained. “I told him you had food allergies.”
Ben laughed. “What allergy?”
“I didn’t say… but do you want to go? Or shall I make up some excuse?”
“I want to go,” he moved the hair away from her cheek. Lizzie felt the cool air of the AC blow against her exposed skin.
“They are my harshest critics.”
“You respect their opinions,” Ben paused after he moved all her hair behind her shoulder. Lizzie felt his fingers gently trace the curve of her neck. She felt his chest rise and fall with a deep breath.
“They are always completely honest,” the quieted thrill electrified her body again. “But neither judges me for my past wrongs… or present ones.”
“Elizabeth,” Ben spoke on his next exhale. His fingers rested on her pulse, which accelerated with the last syllable of her name. She guided his hand away from her as she sat straight against the sofa. She didn’t need to look at his eyes to know the intensity of longing. Instead, Lizzie looked at the floor, blurring the image of the carpet as fear and desire agitated her body too much to make decision. Ben retrieved his arm and slowly left the couch. The removal of his warmth pushed her to the impulse to go after him. She took his shoulders and turned him in to kiss her. He kissed her with an intensity she hadn’t felt from his lips since the night of the reunion.
She felt light headed as he stepped back to let her breathe. She paused a second and kissed him again, almost falling backwards when he renewed his intensity. He caught her lack of balance and lifted her off her feet, carrying her down the hall into the bedroom. He removed her dress before pushing her gently down on the bed. She took in slow deep breaths to calm her heartbeat as he undressed. She locked with his eyes as he lowered back down over her and pushed himself between her legs. She forgot everything that troubled her in the living room as the sensation escalated. She inhaled deeply and lifted back her head, exposing the curve of her neck. His eyes left hers as she arched her entire body into his. His breath warmed the inside of her shoulder before the feeling of a small cut into her skin. She was aware of the blood rush to her head and then the pulse through the artery of her neck.
She closed her eyes, letting the sensation wash over her, as if cool blood were running through warm veins. Under the lids of her eyes, everything seemed to glow as if lit by candlelight. Every nerve felt awake and aware of the slightest touch. She felt his body grow in warmth against her own, as her blood started to pump through his heart and into his veins, enlivening his nerves to excitement.
The warm electricity ebbed from her mind, fluttering her eyes open when he lifted his gaze back to her. The green glowed against the dim light from the street as the color faded the freckles across his cheeks. Lizzie breathed out slowly, letting her chest rise and fall against his. His heart echoed against her, in a more rapid rhythm than hers could ever survive.
She reached her arms to pull him back into her kiss. It was still aggressive and she felt the sting of a scratch inside her lower lip. Lizzie continued to kiss him until she needed to breathe. She looked up to his glowing green eyes. His lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Are you okay?” he whispered softly.
Lizzie nodded slowly, afraid her voice would be too loud for that moment. He kissed her lightly on the forehead and smoothed the disheveled strands from her face. “Are you tired?”
“No,” Lizzie managed to whisper just long enough for him to kiss her again.
“There is no place I would rather be right now,” he kissed her lips and then looked at the side of her neck. He touched the spot where she felt the brief cut of his teeth. She couldn’t see it but imagined the red marks she had on her wrist. He bent his head down to kiss that spot gently, leaving a warm sensation with his lips. She could still feel his heartbeat racing her blood through his body, empowering his actions. He moved away from her neck down towards her breasts and slowly down along her torso.
“Ben,” she touched the rusty brown hair that was just beginning to curl. He looked up at her, leaving another impression of warmth between her breasts where his lips had just been. “I …” she breathed out and looked away from the brilliant green eyes. “I want to be here, too.” He smiled broadly again and bent his head back over her torso, slowly moving his lips down to her pelvis.
*****
Even with the AC, Lizzie sensed the warmth of the July afternoon streaming across her as she lay besides a sleeping Ben. She felt tired but not enough to sleep. She lingered a half hour with her eyes closed, but the dryness of her throat irritated her out of bed. Ben hardly moved as she left his side. She went to the kitchen to moisten her throat and abate the pang of hunger resonating in her stomach.
She removed the meat from the pan and replaced it with the chopped peppers and onions. The sizzling sound and sweet aroma of their juices filled the kitchen. She wondered if Ben could smell them down the hallway or if, like the taste of food, the appealing scent faded into inconsequential. She was used to cooking for herself. So many years she made meals without having to worry about anyone else. Sometimes Meg would sample a helping or two. There were always dinner parties. But she figured that one day there would be a family of some sort she would feed and impress with her skill. She was going to have to let that go.
She filled one of the pristine plates with her stir fry and took it into the living room to eat by the television. Nothing appealed to her so she shut it off and sat in a chair by the window. She could tell from her glance outside that it was a hot afternoon. The people walking down the street were dressed in the least amount of clothing without being offensive… although some probably were in the eyes of Davis. She laughed to herself and looked back to the room, noticing for the first time a Victorian table beneath a gilded mirror behind the couch. It was an interesting juxtaposition to the modern leather furniture and carefully organized media in the room. The legs were elaborately carved and had intricate detail beneath the table top. Centered on top of the table was a ceramic vase filled with white roses.
Lizzie finished her plate almost too quickly to satisfy her hungry stomach. She put the empty dish aside and went over to the table to look at it more carefully. It was probably too late to be something the Fultons might have owned, which was normally the extent to which Lizzie bothered to care about antique furniture.
Her eye caught her reflection in the mirror above it. Her hair was still untidy despite her hasty attempt at a ponytail. Then she saw the bright red marks inside her left shoulder. She touched her skin, not irritating the wounds with pain or reopening them. They couldn’t be mistaken for bug bites and wouldn’t be hidden under anything without a collar. She let herself smile again as she thought of her blood flowing through Ben’s veins and how it made his heart beat. She gave him life. She bit her lip on the smile as she thought of the endorphin rush and satisfied grin that remained even as he slept.
She looked away from the reflection back at the table. The ceramic vase was rather plain, but very likely from the same period as the table. The white roses inside them were exquisite. She never noticed that he had fresh flowers in the apartment, never mind such lovely roses. They weren’t the $5.99 variety Lizzie bought herself at the supermarket. They were perfect and pure and bloomed into a brilliant layer of white petals. She lifted one out of the vase and inhaled a breath.
She felt a sudden swirl of exhaustion spin her brain. She lifted her eyes back to the mirror and shook her head to regain the balance of her senses. She had a sudden thought of rain soaking through her clothes, but it vanished quickly as she saw Ben’s reflection behind her.
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br /> She put the rose back in the vase and turned to him with a broad smile. He looked half awake, but breathed in a happy expression to respond to hers. “Are you feeling all right?” he stifled a yawn.
“I feel wonderful,” she didn’t hesitate the honesty. “I was just hungry.”
“Did you want to get something to eat?” he looked at the table behind her, almost too briefly Lizzie thought she was tricking her mind.
“I made some lunch. Do you want…” she stopped herself from the instinct to offer him some.
“That’s good. I honestly never know if I have the right instruments in a kitchen.”
“It’s not bad for someone who has nothing to do with food,” Lizzie restrained herself from commenting on his knives.
“I had some help buying those things.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” he shook his head. “I’m pretty clueless. You like cooking?”
“I do,” she decided to end the awkward separation of the couch between them by sitting on it. “Andrew and I have a friendly competition with our cooking. We always try to outdo one another at our respective parties. We are also one another’s biggest fans… which was very difficult when I was trying not to eat.”
Ben sat beside her and rested his arm over her shoulder. “So when I go to dinner I should say his cooking is great, but not as great as yours?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Lizzie rested her head against him. “You know we always talk about starting a catering business.”
“Why don’t you?”
“It’s a lot of work. Not to mention a lot of money. I have no money. Andrew has a good job and can’t take time away from it… so we just host parties and cook for our friends for free.”
“Well, feel free to invite him over here to cook with you any time you like,” Ben fingered the edge of her collar. “In fact, I hope you will. I have to go away for a few weeks in the beginning of August.”
“What?” Lizzie pulled herself up straight.
