by Ben Reeder
“I am, Chance,” she said, her eyes damp with unshed tears. “I just...No, I’m okay with it. I love you, and that isn’t going to change, you know that, right? Nothing will ever change that, no matter what happens.” She came to me and put one hand to my chest, her fingertips tracing the ridge of a scar under my shirt without having to search for it. “Nothing can change that.”
The first time she had touched those scars had been the night she’d first found out about my past. My mother had seen my scars, not just the ones on my skin, but the ones I carried inside, and she still loved me. A two and a half years later, and I still had a hard time believing that.
“Even if I’m broken?” I asked, recalling what I’d said to her that night.
“You're not broken, Chance,” she said. “You've been wounded, but wounds heal. Yours are healing already.”
“What were you going to say?” I asked Mom. “You said ‘I just,’ and then you stopped.”
“ I just thought you and Shade were already happy,” she said with a smile. “Even if you weren’t a werewolf.”
“We were,” I said. Looking back at things, I had to admit Mom was right. It took some of the strength out of that argument. A small creeping feeling slithered across my heart. Things had been a little off since the attack. And without my magick…
Just the thought of that almost broke my will. I’d been able to avoid looking at that in particular ever since the attack. With my heart beating hard in my chest, I could tell I still wasn't ready to go there.
“We were,” I repeated, though it sounded so much different in my head now. “I should probably go to bed. I’m wiped out.” Mom came to me and hugged me again. “Shouldn’t you be in bed, too?” I asked her.
“I should, but I still need to figure out how to keep the lights on.”
“Maybe I could help with that.”
Mom shook her head. “No, honey, we’ll be fine. There’s nothing you can do that wouldn’t get in the way of something else more important. And I’m not going to let that happen. Go to bed, and let me worry about this, okay?”
I hugged her again and said goodnight, then went upstairs to my room, changed into a pair of shorts, and crawled out the window to wait for Alpha to try and call me back to him. Minutes turned into an hour, and I ended up grabbing my dark phone and texting Shade to see how things had gone. That just seemed to make things worse as more minutes stretched out without an answer from her.. My mind started throwing images at me that I didn't want to see. Shade in Kain’s arms. Them talking about how weak and pathetic I was. Shade rolling her eyes every time my name was mentioned. Her running with Kain in wolf form, when I couldn’t even turn on my own yet.
I shook my head to clear it and folded my legs into a lotus position, much easier now with my new abilities. With my back straight, I reached down from my root chakra, seeking the Earth and its reassuring solidity. Energy coursed up through the tendril of energy and through my spine, and I saw Shade laying back, looking up at Kain with adoring eyes. My eyes snapped open. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter 7
~ Dirty hands earn the brightest coin. ~
German proverb
I woke up a little after noon, my stomach certain that I had actually slept for days instead of hours. Mom and Dee were already gone when I went downstairs, and there were leftovers in the fridge for about three minutes. Between bites, I texted Shade, since I hadn’t heard from her since last night.
>>Shade: Shade is busy. She’ll contact you if she has time.>>
<
>>Shade: Jacob. Stop bothering us.>>
I set the phone down with a hollow feeling in my stomach. Why did he have her phone? Why was he answering her texts? Why did she let him? Another torrent of images swarmed through my head, none of them pleasant. The room felt too small, and I could barely breathe. I needed to be somewhere else.
A few minutes later, I was backing out of the driveway, tires screeching. When the Mustang hit asphalt, I cut the wheels hard, hit the clutch and slammed the stick into first gear. The front tires spun a few times before they got traction, then I was pressed back into the seat from the sudden acceleration. I kept it under the speed limit as little as possible, and made it to Dr. C’s place without getting a ticket. When I pulled up beside the house, I saw that his Range Rover was gone, but Kim’s sporty little white Viper was parked in its place. The place felt empty when I went in through the kitchen entrance, and the library was just as vacant as the house felt. I pulled my phone out and dialed his number. After a few seconds, I got a recording telling me my phone was only able to make emergency calls. Cursing, I pulled out my dark phone and dialed his number. Moments later, I heard his voice.
“Hey, Chance,” he said. I could hear the smile in his voice, and heard Kim’s musical laughter in the background.
“Where are you? Is Dee with you?”
“Oh, sorry, I tried calling your mother but I couldn’t reach her. We’re in New York, visiting the MOMA.”
“What? When did you decide to do that?”
“This morning. Amanda had never been and Dee just wanted to see New York, so we decided to make a day of it. Why?”
“I’m at your...no, never mind,” I said. Again, the reminder that my magic was gone hit me hard, made my stomach feel like it had dropped to my feet. Of course he had better things to do. I wasn’t his apprentice anymore. “I just dropped by on my way to Lucas’s. Just wanted to make sure...old habits.”
“Chance, is everything okay?” I could hear the change in his voice, the concern.
“Just didn’t know,” I said. “The way things are, I got worried, but it’s no big.”
“Okay,” he said, clearly not completely convinced. “But if you do need to talk or...whatever, you’re still part of my family. I’m only a phone call away.”
“Thanks, sir,” I said. My voice caught in my throat, and I had to force the next words out. “That means a lot.” I ended the call and shuffled toward the door, looking around at the kitchen, replaying pleasant memories with each reluctant step. Sure, I’d probably come back here, but never as his apprentice. The sense of finality in every movement, every sight, all of it felt like I was saying goodbye. The click of the door closing was loud in my ears, and I could have sworn my soul let out a mournful little sound. I was reminded of the shield doors closing in The Empire Strikes Back.
Memories of watching Star Wars the weekend after I’d killed Dominic King brought Lucas to mind, and I headed for my car intent on spending the rest of the day with him. Fifteen minutes later, I was pulling into the parking lot across the street from Mitternacht’s Books.
After home and Dr. Corwin’s sanctum, Mitternacht’s was the most calming place I knew. Walking in the front door was like crossing a threshold into another realm. Hundreds of realms, his grandfather Hans would say. The front part of the shop was mostly bookshelves. Six foot bookcases lined the outer wall, and shorter four foot tall shelves were set throughout the rest of the floor in a thick L shape that left a large reading area half way back and toward the middle. The counter took up a big chunk of the back corner on the right as you walked in, bordering the stockroom that took up the rest. Collectible card games, dice, miniatures and other game paraphernalia took up most of the front facing glass case, Lucas’s original contribution to the store. A few steps in, though, and his newest additions were visible. Stones, herbs, jewelry and tarot cards dominated the left side of the L shaped counter. The back half of the store was raised about three feet, and housed The Parlor, an honest to goodness tea and coffee shop. Grandpa Hans bragged about teaching the big chain bookstores a thing about hospitality back in the 90s, saying that he had introduced The Parlor long before Starbucks coffee shops showed up in corporate bookstores.
To the left, a spiral staircase wound its way down from the ceiling, and served as a sort of visual anchor for the upper story. It was off limits to customers, as was the regular stairway in the back. The uppe
r level, while not open to the public, was open from floor to ceiling in the front half, with a broad walkway that ran along the sides and front of the shop. Wrought iron railings guarded the back half. The middle was empty, with empty bookshelves gathering dust with great dignity. The left side of the upper level was where I usually found Lucas most days. Once upon a time, it had been a glassed in office, but Hans had given Lucas free reign with renovating it. Gone were the glass walls, leaving only the lower half of the barrier in place. He’d kept the dark wood paneling and the rest of the antique decor.
If the store itself was interesting to look at, most of its clientele were equal to their surroundings. New Essex bred its own brand of Goth, and Mitternacht’s Books was one of their preferred nesting grounds. Dark of plumage, pale of skin and grim of visage, New Essex Goths were different because most of them weren’t fans of vampires. Not that they didn’t like them, or have a penchant for the morbid and macabre. The difference wasn’t even in degree.
It was in certainty.
Most Goths, if they had a thing for vampires, tended toward vamps ‘in general’ with a few fictional versions they favored. Many of the New Essex Goths were fans of particular vampires who they knew were real. Some were blood groupies, some were blood junkies, others just knew the truth. A few had even ended up becoming said vampires. I walked past a group who were comparing bite marks. The rich, damp scent of grave mold was strong on some of them, and on one girl, it was mixed with sweat and sex. She was also the only one not actively trying to impress everyone with her bite. I smiled at the quiet confidence she exuded and leaned against the glass counter. Hans came to stand across from me, his smile warm. White hair and a neatly trimmed beard of the same color framed his face.
“Looking for Lucas, no?” he said, his German accent clipping his consonants.
“Yeah,” I said.
“He is upstairs, avoiding all the real work. Just like a manager.”
“I thought you were the manager,” I said.
“I was, but I retired,” he said, his eyes glittering with humor. “Who do you think showed him how to do the avoiding? Now I’m just the owner.”
“Well, I’ll tell him his boss is proud of him,” I said, pushing away from the counter. The smell of coffees and teas almost overwhelmed my nose as I trotted up the stairs, then dust finished the job, making me sneeze several times while I made my way to the office. Lucas sat at a corner desk with Monica sitting behind him. In a Doctor Who t-shirt and jeans, he certainly didn’t look much like a manager. Of course, Monica looked sexy as hell. She wore a black satin corset over a red satin blouse, and her nails were painted black on one side and red on the other. Black patent ankle boots were tucked under her chair, making her legs look amazing. She had her right arm around Lucas, with her head resting on his shoulder. Her left hand idly moved up and down his left arm, and I could hear her whispering to him.
“Baby, if you run from sundown to sunup, they’ll be here,” I heard.
“That’s all cool and shit,” Lucas said back. “But will we still make enough to keep the doors open?”
“They’ll make sure of it, darling.”
They saw me by that point, and Lucas sat up straight in the chair, but not before Monica nipped at his earlobe and purred at him.
“Chance!” he said, his face breaking into a broad smile. “What’s up?”
“Am I interrupting something?” I asked.
“Not yet,” Monica said with a smile like a cat with a bowl of cream. “Why? Did you want to?”
“No, not really,” I said, unsure of how to take that.
“Down girl,” Lucas laughed and kissed her. She nipped at his lip but he pulled back in time to avoid her teeth.
“You two are going to give me a sugar rush,” I said.
“What brings you by?” Lucas asked.
“Just needed to get out of the house for a while. That asshole Kain has Shade’s phone, and he’s replying to my texts to her.” I pushed past the gap in the half wall and grabbed one of the wooden office chairs and turned it to face them. Before I could sit down, though, Monica had me caught up in a warm, soft embrace. I hugged her back, noting how soft she was in all the most wonderful places. Her hug was nice, though, and I felt some of them unease and doubt fade away.
“Chance, I’m so sorry you’re going through this,” she murmured before she let go. “And I’ll behave, I promise.” She said the last with a smile that took left me wondering if she was serious about that, and if I wanted her to behave herself.
“Enough about my problems, though,” I said. “I came here to avoid them. What’s up today?”
“Oh, it’s my favorite day,” Lucas said, his words dripping sarcasm. “Book delivery day. Not only do I have to unload and stock the shelves, I still need to update our website for electronic ordering. It’s going to take me two or three days to get all of this done.”
“Why so long?” I asked.
“It’s a big order. Some of our biggest suppliers released a bunch of new books, so we have displays to set up, and a ton of new stock to put out. Meanwhile, we’re losing money on digital downloads, but I figured out a way to make at least a little bit on that side of things, if I can get it set up.”
“So, what if I took care of the heavy lifting, so you can brain on the computer side of things.”
“ Dude…’so I can brain…’ Still, it would help out a lot. Tell Gramps you’re the new hired help. He can supervise. Oh, and Chance? Don’t think you’re getting out of this without being paid.”
“That ain’t why I’m doing it,” I told him before I turned and headed for the stairs again.
Monica ended up manning the counter, and I learned that books are freaking heavy. Under Hans’ supervision, I was unloading books and stocking them. When I picked up the first box and found that I had to work at it, even with my greater strength, I let out a surprised sound, and Hans chuckled.
“Heavy, no?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said.
“Paper is pulped and pressed wood,” he said, hefting a book. “Imagine a tree trunk that big, and you’ve about half of it. So, ja, they are heavy. But oh, the places they take us. Here, put it over there,” he pointed toward a spot near the door.
The next few hours were monotonous, but hardly tiring. Where they usually had to move one or two boxes at a time, transferring them from place to place on a handcart, I was able to pick up three and four at a time and just carry them around. Once I had the older books unloaded, I started on the newer inventory, and helped Hans set up the new displays and set the books out. It was late afternoon when I finally trudged back up to the office. Lucas was rubbing the bridge of his nose and squinting when I walked into the walled off area.
“I figure you won’t turn down a Big Guy’s cheeseburger and fries?” he asked. I heard footsteps on the stairs behind me, and smelled the powerful musk that was Monica’s signature, and Hans’s aftershave.
“Not if you’re buying,” I said. “Especially if you threaten me with a double-cheeseburger.”
“I’ll even throw in chili-cheese fries. You did more work today than we could do in a week.”
“He’s right,” Hans said. “We owe you more than just a meal for what you got done today.” He shook my hand, and I felt something press against my palm. “You really did do a weeks worth of work today. And any time you want to come do it again, you are more than welcome.” He smiled and turned to walk back to the stairs, leaving me to stare down at the four bills he left in my hand. Lucas just smiled and pulled his phone out, and Monica kissed my cheek.
“You looked so strong, carrying all those boxes around like they were nothing,” she smiled. While I blushed, she went to sit beside Lucas and ran her hand down his arm. It was one thing to hear his heartbeat speed up, but the rush of pheremones he put out made for an interesting mix when it mixed with the flood Monica was producing. If anyone ever told me Monica wasn’t just as far gone over Lucas as he was for her, I would be the firs
t to tell them how wrong they were. As much as she could do and say things to make my blood heat up, no one got her going like Lucas did.
I felt as much as heard the sprite fly up over the rail, and my ears told me this was someone I knew. With a tiny pop I was sure only I could hear, Ren turned visible near the center of the open area.
“Hey, everyone!” he said, sounding almost like his usual cheerful self. But the purple edge to his wings spoke of a slight unease, as well as the slight peppery smell he was putting off.
“Hey, Ren, long time, no see,” I said. “How’s it going?”
Ren’s smile got bigger, and two more sprites popped into view, their wings tinged a light silver. Both swooped up to me, wrapped their arms around my neck for a moment, then giggled and flew to the able and dropped to a knee, their heads bowed, wings fluttering.
“What was that about?” I asked Ren.
“Sorry,” one of them, a female sprite with light blue hair, said. Her head popped up, then dropped back down “We were just so excited to meet you.”
“Whyyy?” I asked, drawing the word out. Lucas was leaning forward, his brow set in a curious expression.
“I’ve got to hear this,” he said.
“Because you freed them,” Ren said. His tone said it should have been obvious, but it was still a big mystery to me.
“How?” I asked.
“When you freed me, you freed all the sprites. You’re the Liberator.”
“What?”
Lucas snorted, and I turned to point at him. “No, dude, I can't help it,” he laughed. “Seeing you reduced to monosyllables is hilarious.”
“Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” I told him, then turned to Ren. “I thought I was only able to free you that night.”
“It was the way the contract was written,” Ren said with a shrug. “It was pretty specific on that ‘no sprite shall be free’ part, so when you freed me, because it was an absolute, if I was free, all of us had to be free.”
“You mean,” I said, drawing the words out so I could understand exactly what I’d done, “I did the sprite version of the Emancipation Proclamation?”
