by Liz Schulte
I was late getting to work the next morning, but I felt fantastic. I hummed all the way to the bakery. I couldn’t remember much of anything that happened after I went through the door with Phoenix, which was worrisome, but the feeling that the world was mine for the taking made the worry easy to dismiss.
There were two days until opening. Boone was installing the countertops and the chairs and tables would arrive any minute, which meant I had the rest of the day and tomorrow to finish setting up and to prepare for Saturday. Despite everything that had happened, I was going to open on time. It felt like a major accomplishment. And even better than making my deadline was the fact I was calm. My entire outlook on life had changed. Was it because of the talk Boone and I had, or because I’d finally sated my appetite? Either way, I owed both Phoenix and Boone flowers—or something less girly. I couldn’t have made it through the week without them.
There was one more thing I had to do, though. Yesterday, I couldn’t decide, but this morning when I woke up (Yes, I slept!) the answer was clear. Holden had to be told about Garret. Garret couldn’t be left as he was, frightened and positive that I was somehow evil. That decided, I got to work. My tables and chairs arrived and I dedicated the rest of the morning to arranging them until they looked perfect.
Boone tapped my shoulder as I was admiring how everything had come together. “I’m finished,” he said.
I looked at the wall in front of the kitchen, opposite of the big windows and entrance. Goosebumps rose in waves over my arms. It was more than perfect. It was mine. “I love it.” I smiled from my heart at Boone. “I love everything about it. I’m so glad we met.”
His dimples came out. “Wait here. I have a present for you.”
I wrapped my arms around myself as I envisioned the cases filled with treats and the cabinets lined with colorful jars of hard candy and trinkets. I couldn’t wait to start baking.
The door chimed. I looked up expecting Boone, but Garret was there instead, wearing a huge crucifix and a string of garlic around his neck. One hand held a video camera and the other clasped a bottle of what I could only assume was holy water. I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing.
“You’re back,” I said, sighing heavily. “Garret, you have to stop harassing me.”
“I know what you are, demon.” He sent a spray of holy water splashing across my face.
I briefly considered messing with him, but I decided that wouldn’t be the best idea given the trouble we were in. I simply wiped it away. “Please, sit down. We need to talk.”
He stared accusingly at the ineffectual holy water then stuck it in his pocket and focused the video camera on me. “Then talk, vampire.”
I sighed again. “This is insane. Put the camera down. You’re unwell.”
“The camera stays. I want a record of your lies. I could feel you in my mind yesterday. I know you did something to me. The world will know.”
It was worse than I thought. I assumed since I’d failed that compelling wasn’t one of my abilities—but he’d felt me. What if I’d damaged him in some way? “Put the camera down,” I said gently. “Let me help you.”
He pulled out a gun and pointed it at me, his hand shaking. “I thought you might say that, but I saw you heal and I can prove it.”
I held up both hands and backed away. “You don’t want to do this, Garret.” He really didn’t. Chances were I would not only heal instantaneously, but my vampire half might take being shot personally.
“Confess and admit it on film or you’re forcing me to prove it. The world deserves to know.”
He pulled the trigger. A shot rang through the air. I moved out of the way just before the bullet hit, even though I was on camera—the lesser of two evils. It was that or accidentally kill him and that was something I didn’t want to live with.
Garret crashed into the ground as Boone tackled him from behind, knocking over a couple chairs. A small wrapped gift flew from his hands and fell to the floor.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m okay.” Boone pinned Garret’s arm behind his back. “He didn’t want to hurt me.”
I didn’t have the words to defend Garret, but I couldn’t condemn him either. This was my fault.
“Did he or did he not just try to shoot you?” Boone growled, yanking Garret’s arm up tighter. Garret clutched the camera with his free hand.
“You moved too fast. You did. You moved too fast,” he crowed. “I have it on film. Everyone will know.”
Two days ago he had been such a nice man.
“Call the police,” Boone said over Garret’s ramblings.
I shook my head. There was only one thing I could do. “You can leave, Boone. I’ll handle this.”
Garret tried to scramble to his feet, but Boone kept hold of him. “I’m not going anywhere while this madman’s still here.” A lock of his hair fell over his face.
I picked up my cell phone and called Holden. He appeared instantly as a thick black cloud of oily smoke that quickly formed into him.
Garret ranted louder, his face red with exertion. Even Boone looked a little frightened as Holden glared at them. He turned to me. “What happened?”
I gave him a quick rundown of everything that happened with Garret and how I tried to fix it. Holden’s jaw flexed at least three times during my story and I braced myself to be yelled at, but he turned away and scooped up Garret by the back of his shirt, right out from under Boone. Holden’s other hand snatched the camera from Garret and handed it to me. Then he grabbed his chin and forced Garret to look at him.
I sucked in air. He was going to kill him right there in front of me. I squeezed my eyes shut then forced myself to open them again. I had to watch. It was my fault.
“You have never met Maggie, you don’t believe in anything paranormal, the last three days have been completely normal, and you hate sweets. Now you are tired and want to go home and sleep for at least twelve hours.”
Garret’s dark eyes rolled back in his head and Holden dropped him to the ground, where he stood deathly still. Then Holden snapped his fingers and Garret stumbled out, not saying a word, his face completely blank. And that was how compelling was supposed to go.
I bent down and picked up the gun, offering it to Holden. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
He took the weapon and looked at Boone. “What about him?”
Boone stood up and offered Holden a hand.
Holden glanced at me and I nodded. “Boone’s okay.”
He shook his hand, but didn’t look happy about it. “You know the rules.” He turned his penetrating stare onto me.
“He’s psychic. He’s practically one of us.” I glanced at Boone. “Besides, I explained the rules. He understands.”
“What kind of psychic?” Holden asked.
I stepped between him and Boone. “The kind that doesn’t need our sort of trouble.”
“We’ll see.” He looked over my shoulder at Boone. “What did she tell you?”
“That vampires are real and shouldn’t be talked about. Hey, man, I’m not going to say a word.”
Holden relaxed. “See that you don’t.” With that, he disappeared just as fast as he’d arrived.
Chapter 6
