Midnight Rose

by Dani Hart

  “The calm before the storm.” I pointed to the dark clouds rolling in.

  “It should hold off for a few more hours. Come on.” He tugged me lightly to the pier. The end of the pier was lively with neon lights and people perusing the few shops there were, but where Wes and I stood it was peaceful.

  I wanted to live in this moment forever with just Wes, the water, and the infinite stars.

  “Don’t move.” He climbed over the railing and made his way down to the water.

  “What are you doing?” It was so dark I couldn’t see where he went. “Wes?” I hissed frantically.

  Then the tip of a rowboat floated out from under the deck with Wes balancing in it. He held up two paddles and a large grin.

  “You scared me half to death.”

  “Immortal, remember? Come on. Climb down.”

  He held the boat steady while I climbed over the railing and dropped down into it. It was just big enough for the two of us.

  “Where did you get this?” I held my hand out for one of the paddles.

  “It’s ours. Well, technically, it’s my dad’s.” His eyes gleamed.

  Once we paddled out into the lake, Wes took a blanket and laid it out on the bottom of the boat. There was just enough room for us to lie side by side, watching the slowly spinning world above us.

  “This is stunning.” I was enamored with the glorious beauty of the sky.

  “It’s only that way because you’re here.” Wes turned to me, our faces only inches apart because of the tight space.

  “Do you want to talk about what you did this week?”

  He reached over and brushed my hair behind my back, lightly grazing my neck.

  “Not really.” His fingers gripped the back of my neck softly as he moved closer to me. “Have you ever been kissed, Abby?”

  My body was trembling as I shook my head. Words had completely failed me.

  “Good.” He smiled crookedly and then pressed his lips against mine.

  The coolness sank into me, taking every last breath from me, my mind spinning with the boat, fully engulfed in the numbing sensation taking over my lips. I pressed my lips on his harder, wrapping both my arms around his neck and pushing him close to my chest. I had waited so long for this, but then the rocking of the boat became a wave of nausea in my head and it began to pound. I felt weak.

  “Abby? Look at me. Abby?” Wes suddenly begged.

  His voice became distant as the fog in my head thickened. Wes’ cold hands on my cheeks reminded me for a brief moment where I was. I focused on his eyes just long enough to see the fear they emitted.

  “Abby, what’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know. I’m sorry.” My voice was barely a whisper. “I think I’m seasick.”

  He laughed lightly, brushing an apologetic hand down my cheek. “Then I should probably get you off this boat.” He kissed my forehead gently and then paddled us back to the pier.

  My head still felt fuzzy, and my body was covered in sweat, but I was more coherent when we reached the pier and also more than mortified. Maybe I was fragile.

  Wes tied the boat to the pier. “You made it.” He helped me up onto the pier.

  “I’m cold.” My body shivered. He snatched the blanket from the boat and wrapped it around me, holding me tightly to his side. “I’m really tired. Can you take me home?” I was getting weaker by the second.

  I fell asleep in the car, and when I woke briefly in the middle of the night, I discovered I was in my bed. Alone.

  MY DOOR WAS cracked open, and the faint whispers of my parents down the hall slipped around me

  “I’m worried, James.” My mom’s voice cracked.

  “You did the right thing calling me,” my dad replied.

  My dad knocked softly on my door. “Peanut? Are you awake?”

  I turned on my side to face him. “Yeah, I’m awake.”

  “Your mom told me Wes brought you home sick last night. She said you couldn’t even walk. What happened?”

  For all my parents knew, I went to that party with Wes and probably assumed I drank myself into a coma. That was definitely better than the truth. I wasn’t sure they would react too well to me being alone with Wes on a boat in the middle of the lake.

  “Yeah, I think I got food poisoning or something. Kendra has it, too.”

  “That’s what your mom said. She talked to Kendra’s mom this morning. Probably the same thing.” His eyes raised, daring me to tell him otherwise.

  “I’m sorry I worried you guys. Wes was great, though. I’m glad he was there.” I yawned dramatically, hoping he would get the hint.

  “Are you hungry? It’s almost two.”

  “No, I’m okay. Just tired. But can you call Mr. Hunter at the bistro and let him know I won’t be able to make it tonight?”

  “I was going to suggest that. Perhaps a few days off?”

  It was more a request than a question, and when he did that, I couldn’t argue. “Sure, Dad. A few days off would probably be good. I’m going to go back to sleep now.”

  “Glad you’re feeling better. I’ll wake you for dinner. Sleep tight, Peanut.” His smile was strained as he closed the door.

  I needed to see Wes. I wanted to see him. Last night was mortifying. Maybe I could convince my parents to at least let him drop by. After taking a shower, I went downstairs to eat. My stomach was grumbling painfully.

  “You’re up.” My mom jumped up from the couch. “Let me fix you something. What do you think your stomach can handle?”

  “Thanks, Mom. I think my stomach is good now.” I was ravenous.

  “You sure you’re not running a fever?” She put her hand on my forehead. “You look better.” She smiled.

  “I feel much better.”

  “I’ll heat up some soup.”

  I didn’t see my dad anywhere. “Is Dad mad that he had to come home early?”

  “What? No. Abby, stop worrying so much about your dad. You’d be surprised how strong he is.” She placed the bowl of soup onto the table. “Now sit and eat.”

  “Is this from the bistro?”

  “Yes. Your dad picked it up for you.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Since he left early from Seattle, he had to go back to finish his business there. He’ll be back tomorrow. He wouldn’t leave unless he knew you were better.” She squeezed my shoulder.

  “I feel a hundred times better. I just needed some rest. I was actually thinking of running over to Wes’ to let him know I was better. He’s probably worried.”

  “Oh. Are you sure you’re up to driving? I don’t mind driving you. Or maybe you could just call him?”

  “Really, Mom, I’m all better. And the soup is really helping.”

  “Just don’t be too long. I think you should take it easy the rest of the weekend. And don’t tell your dad I let you out of my sight.”

  “Thanks. I won’t.” I took a few more bites and then tossed the rest into the sink.

  I sat in the driveway for a few minutes while the inside of my car heated up. It was freezing outside. A tap on my window startled me, causing me to jam my knee into the dashboard. Elijah smiled back at me, so I rolled down the window.

  “Cold?”

  I rubbed my bruised knee. “Ow, seriously. You can’t do that.”

  “Can I sit with you?”

  “I guess.” I considered saying no, but with all the questions surrounding, well, everything, I knew I couldn’t turn him away.

  He slipped into the passenger seat. “It’s a hundred degrees in here, Abby.” He reached for the thermostat knob, but I swatted his hand away.

  “Don’t.” I pointed my finger at his face. “The max temperature is eighty-six, so you’re wrong.” I protected it with my hand. “What are you doing here, Elijah?” I was beginning to think having a car was a bad idea. It attracted too many surprise visits.

  “We need to talk,” he said seriously.

  “Why? How can I be sure that anything you tell me is the tr
uth?”

  “I should have told you the other night.” Regret darkened his mood.

  “Saving my life is kind of a huge thing to leave out.”

  He sighed deeply. “The deal was for me to maintain no contact, but then…things changed.”

  “The deal. So, if you are here to protect me, then why is everyone worried you’re going to hurt me?”

  “Drive and I can show you.”

  “And now I am supposed to trust you?”

  “Yes, because you want to know what I know.”

  I hated how right he was. I put the car in reverse and drove out onto the street.

  “Where are we going?” Please don’t say his house.

  “If I say my place, are you going to freak out?”

  My palms were sweating nervously. Or maybe it was the eighty-six degrees in the car. Either way, I just made another really bad choice. I knew the Hunters felt he was dangerous, but my grandpa always told me I had great instincts, and right now they weren’t screaming serial killer. He scared the hell out of me, but he saved my life once, and I owed it to myself to find out why.

  “Your place it is.” My stomach flipped anxiously. “We have a long drive, so you could start talking now.” I watched his reaction from my peripheral.

  He looked out the window. “You won’t believe me. I need to show you.” His voice was soft.

  Why did he care so much? Why did anybody care at all? I was just a small-town girl. I dared a sideways glance over to him. When I met Elijah, I was strangely attracted to him. And it wasn’t because he was heartbreakingly handsome either. It was something else. Seeing him now, staring out into the storm, his fist opening and closing just enough to see his knuckles flex and then relax, I realized he was nervous, too. Vulnerable. The other times he was poised. Confident. Something had changed recently. Something was wrong. Was he afraid for me?

  My focus went back to the road in front of me. Large raindrops hit the windshield, bursting and spreading like spider webs. The rain was light at first, but strengthened as we exited the highway into Bayview.

  Elijah had drifted his gaze back to the road ahead, too, but his stare was distant. It was making me nervous again, and the tension was building exponentially. The sound of the gravel driveway under my tires crunched loudly.

  Before I turned off the car, I faced him. “Should I be scared?”

  His eyes locked with mine, a sort of sadness swirling in his sea of green. “Of me? No.”

  “But of someone else?” I persisted.

  “You already know the answer to that.”

  He took my hand and put it on his chest, our eyes fixed on each other.

  “Do you feel that?” he asked.

  “Your heartbeat? Yes.”

  “I have one, and you have one. Your parents have one. The Hunters don’t, Abby. They don’t have a heartbeat or a soul. They aren’t human. They don’t feel the way we do, and they certainly don’t care like us. Now, ask me again if you should be scared.”

  I was stunned into disbelief. How had I not noticed Wes didn’t have a heartbeat?

  “Ask me, Abby. Should you be scared?” he repeated.

  “Should I be scared?”

  “Yes, you should be very scared.”

  Thunder suddenly shook the car, breaking the tension.

  He released my hand from his chest slowly. “Follow me.”

  We raced in the front door, soaking wet even from the short distance. After the Hunters revealed what they were, I wondered if Elijah was, too, but when he raked his fingers through his hair, I noticed how human he was. Imperfect.

  Inside, Elijah came to my side and helped pull off my wet jacket. His fingers tingled the back of my neck, and I had to close my eyes and suck in a slow breath to keep from whimpering.

  “Tea or coffee?” he asked as he hung up my jacket.

  “Huh?” I asked in my stupor.

  “Do you prefer tea or coffee? Or are you a hot cocoa girl?”

  “Oh.” I tugged my long sleeves down over my hands uneasily. “Hot cocoa. Thanks,” I shyly responded as I directed my attention away from him, trying to regain my composure.

  I followed him into the kitchen. A fire was blazing in the fireplace, so I sat in the sofa chair next to it, trying to get dry. I tried to distract myself from Elijah, but I was failing miserably. He pulled his soaked sweatshirt over his head, taking his undershirt with it, giving me a peek of his muscular lower back. I looked away quickly when he turned toward me, ashamed at the heat that rushed through me.

  He put a teapot on the stove and walked over, taking a seat across from me. He leaned over his knees, his fingers tugging at each other. His vulnerability was dangerously attractive.

  As if he read my thoughts, he asked, “Your boyfriend isn’t going to bust in here, is he?”

  I chuckled lightly. “He doesn’t know I’m here, so I highly doubt it.”

  His eyebrows pulled in tight, making his expression serious, and he looked at me, determined. “You underestimate him. Don’t.”

  “You want me to be afraid of him.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Not just of him. Of all of them.” His head dropped.

  “The Hunters?”

  He shook his head slowly and then lifted his gaze. “No, Abby. All of them.”

  I shivered. How many were there? “You brought me here to show me something. What is it?” I was starting to question coming here.

  The teapot whistled before he could answer. He got up and busily prepared the hot cocoa. My crossed leg kicked up and down nervously as I waited impatiently for answers.

  He came back with two mugs. “This should warm you up.”

  “Thanks.” Three marshmallows floated on top. “Marshmallows?” My eyebrow arched playfully.

  “Don’t judge,” he said as he took a sip. “It’s hot just like the chili was, so consider yourself warned.” He winked.

  This wasn’t supposed to be comfortable and easy, but it was.

  I blew on the steaming cocoa. “Why three marshmallows?” I asked curiously.

  “Because two isn’t as much fun.” He smiled coyly.

  Because three makes a triangle, I thought. And trouble.

  “If you’re not immortal, then what are you?”

  He peeked up through his lashes with a look worth melting for. “Why do I have to be anything other than mortal?”

  “For you to owe someone a favor that is in the realm of keeping someone safe from immortals, you must be pretty extraordinary.” I raised a curious eyebrow. He was hiding something, and I was determined to find out what.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He took a sip of his cocoa.

  “That wasn’t an answer.”

  “Was there a question in there?”

  I didn’t know how he managed it, but he seemed to make me smile…a lot. “This is good.” I raised the mug.

  “Thanks.” He paused and then continued, “There are some extraordinary mortals in the world, Abby. Extraordinary enough to handle immortals on some levels.”

  “And are you telling me you’re one of them?”

  He drank more of his hot cocoa, his eyes narrowing as if he were deciding whether he should tell me his deep, dark secret.

  “Yes,” he said simply.

  A quiet gasp escaped my lips. I thought there could be a chance, but somehow it still seemed so unbelievable, but nothing was out of the realm of possibilities, especially since immortals had jumped out of the pages of fiction and surrounded us.

  “Don’t be so small-minded, Abby. If immortals can exist, don’t you think it plausible that others could, too? That mortals have evolved with gifts to protect themselves from immortals?”

  I was mind blown. There were humans with gifts. “Small-minded? That’s pretty rude.” Here we were, sitting by a fire in a gorgeous house on the lake, sipping hot cocoa, but instead of discussing standard things like the weather, we were debating about what kinds of things existed in the world.

  �
��I don’t mean to demean you, but it’s utterly ridiculous that you believe in immortals, but you haven’t considered other possibilities.”

  I scrunched my face at his bluntness. He had me, though. “In my defense, I’ve only known about immortals for a week!” I leaned over, getting closer to him. “So then tell me. Educate me, Elijah.”

  His demeanor went dark, and his eyes fell. My heart instantly ached. My instincts were telling me he was about to divulge something bad.

  “An immortal attacked my mom and me when I was six. My mom tried to protect me, but he was strong. She used her body as a shield, and I can still remember how her racing pulse felt against my neck, and her hands,” he looked down at his own hands, “they were shaking so hard against my body. She was so scared and begged for mercy. To spare me.” He cleared his throat. “She sacrificed herself.” He blinked hard and long, staving off tears and then continued, “He grabbed her from me, but I didn’t want to let go, so I held firmly to her wrist. That’s when I felt it for the first time. A surge of energy traveled between us. Like a charge of electricity. I was only six and hurting, so I didn’t think much of it.”

  His eyes looked into the distant past, far from the living room we occupied. “He ripped her from me, and then she was gone. I heard her screams for a few seconds until they faded completely.” He stood up and walked to the mantel, putting his mug down, and rested his forehead on his arms.

  I wanted to go to him. To comfort him, but I waited, giving him a moment.

  “My father found me curled up in the corner of their bedroom. Seeing my father crumble the way he did was almost as hard as watching my mother being taken. He called the police, but they couldn’t do much. My mother and that thing disappeared without a trace. My father couldn’t accept that she was gone, and since no one else was helping us find her, we packed up and went on our own search. We didn’t have any leads for several years, and then we met someone one day. He listened to my story and brought us to The Order of the Crest. When I told them about the surge of energy I felt with my mom, they said they would help us find her if we would join The Order.” He stopped again, taking a deep breath and straightening up.

  “Did they? Find her, I mean?” I was completely immersed in his memory and having a hard time keeping it together myself.