Midnight Soul (Fantasyland #5)

by Kristen Ashley

  “Sorry?”

  I heard him clear his throat before he replied, “You do. Heard it in Noc when he talked about you. Now I hear it in you. What I hear pleases me, Frannie, reckon you know that, just reckon you don’t know how much. And it makes me look forward even more to meeting you.”

  I knew what he was saying and I was beside myself with happiness he understood my feelings for his son.

  But even if I had more information about what was happening, I didn’t comprehend the fullness of it.

  Before I could broach that, Ludlum Hawthorne declared, “Obvious this is worryin’ you and thank you for givin’ that to my boy. And thank you again for doin’ the right thing and callin’ his old man to have a chat about it. But I got it from here.”

  Oh no.

  I knew what “I got it” means and I didn’t have a good feeling about Noc’s father having anything if it had a thing to do with all this.

  “Um…Lud—”

  “We’ll hash it out and get ourselves sorted. Don’t you worry,” he assured without assuring me in the slightest. “No doubt you know we got a lotta love in our family but that doesn’t mean, four men, all of us pigheaded, we don’t clash. We do. First time you see it, I can understand it’ll worry you. But you’ll also see we get over it. We learned over and over again, doin’ that the hard way, to hang on to what we got. And just so you know, anniversary passes, he comes back to himself. My advice next time, just wait it out. He’ll be good as new in no time.”

  “Can I just say, Lud, that—”

  He cut me off like he didn’t hear me speak.

  “Now I gotta go. Bad timing, Sue’s dragging me out to lunch with her bridge cronies. Twice a year I gotta go to this lunch and if they didn’t raise buckets of money for cancer research, I’d be on my boat with a rod in my hand. But I’ll say, regardless of the subject matter, sure was good to talk to you. Next time we do it, I’ll make you giggle. I’m a comedian. A good one. And don’t listen to Noc or Dash or Orly when they say my material stinks. They don’t know what they’re talking about. I’m damned funny.”

  “I’m sure you are,” I replied swiftly but didn’t get the rest out swiftly enough as he spoke again.

  “Now you take care of yourself, honey, and would say take care of my boy but seems to me you got that down.”

  He was so very wrong.

  He was also so very much not done.

  “And maybe Sue and me’ll get on a plane so I can give you a hug in person and she can size you up for whatever outfits she’s gonna buy you come Christmas. If they’re not your thing, just give ’em to charity but don’t say anything to her. Only way I’ll say it’s fortunate you live across the country, you won’t have to dress up in the stuff she buys and she won’t see you not doin’ it. She gave the boys all Christmas sweaters three years ago and pouts that they refuse to wear ’em. Won’t listen to a word I say on the subject that those sweaters are butt-ugly and laughable besides. Noc’s has got a reindeer stitched on it with a bell for a nose, for chrissakes. I mean, who in their right mind thinks a man is gonna wear a Christmas sweater with a reindeer on it with a bell for a nose? Love her to bits, she’s a damn fine woman, but that don’t mean she don’t got some crazy ideas.”

  I had no earthly idea what he was talking about.

  I also had no intention of asking. My anxiety was building and I needed to stop him from “hashing” anything out with Noc, and I needed to do that now.

  To my grave misfortune, I didn’t get the chance to get into it for I heard him shout, not at me, “I’m ready, sweetheart, just on the phone with Noc’s Frannie!”

  Gods.

  “Yeah, Frannie!” he kept shouting. “Noc’s girl!”

  Gods!

  “No,” he said, again not to me, “I’m sayin’ goodbye. You get on the phone with her, you’ll talk for a year.”

  “I will not.” I heard a woman say. Then I heard, this time to me, “Well hello! Nice to meet you.”

  Oh…

  Balls.

  “I, um…well, right…hello to you too, Sue,” I pushed out.

  “What a wonderful surprise, you calling,” she declared.

  “Yes, well, erm…”

  “I cannot tell you how delighted I was to hear Noc had finally found someone. But really mostly when we heard how very taken he is with you. Lud told me the way Noc speaks about you, we should be careful and not flip out when we watch you walk on water.”

  This surprised me (as well as parts of it thrilling me) because I couldn’t imagine in this world where magic was hidden that Noc would share I had it for I doubted it would be difficult to do just that.

  Though why I’d ever wish to walk on water, I couldn’t fathom.

  “That’s lovely, but could I speak with—?” I attempted to ask.

  “We can’t wait to meet you.”

  “And I you,” I hurried out but had no opportunity to say more.

  “Wonderful,” she declared. “Now, I must let you go because Lud is giving me the evil eye seeing as he doesn’t want to go to this lunch and I’m making him, so I best not chat with you for a year and prolong his torture. We’ll talk more later. Lud’s got your number in his phone now, I’ll call you.”

  By the gods.

  What had I done?

  “I’ll look forward to that,” I (somewhat) lied.

  “Lovely. And I can’t let you go without telling you that you have such a beautiful voice. I can’t wait to see pictures. Noc told his father you’re effin’ gorgeous, though he used the actual F-word, to my everlasting distress. If you’re as pretty as your voice, you must be something. Tell Noc to send some photos, quick as he can.”

  I heard her pull in a deep breath but she did even that fast and I got out nary a sound before she carried on.

  “Okay, must run. Again, so nice to meet you. Take care, Frannie.”

  “You do the same,” I forced out, sounding strangled.

  “Give that to me. No, give that to me. I wanna say ’bye too.” I heard in the background. Then in my ear came from Lud, “Take care of yourself, Frannie. And don’t worry about a thing, I got this. ’Bye, honey.”

  When Noc said he “had” things, I’d learned he spoke truth.

  I didn’t mean to cast aspersions on his father, but I had grave fears in this instance it was not the same.

  Helpless to do anything but, I bid, “Goodbye, Lud.”

  He disconnected.

  I stared at my crystal ball and watched the digits fade away until there was nothing but a lazy billow of smoke.

  “Perhaps I don’t adore you,” I snapped at it.

  The lazy billow of smoke cleared and showed me a picture of Kristian and Brikitta sleeping, Frantz peacefully at rest in a cot by the side of their bed.

  Blasted ball.

  “All right, so I do adore you, I’m just annoyed at you.”

  The vision of my family wafted away.

  I drew in breath and knew exactly what I had to do.

  This I did without delay so I wouldn’t lose my nerve.

  I phoned Noc.

  For the first time I’d done this, he did not take my call.

  It went to his voicemail.

  Surprised and disturbed by this, I simply said after the tone, “Could you call me at your soonest convenience, darling?” and disconnected.

  But I feared his not picking up was another part of his warning.

  Or, worse, that he was right then speaking to his father.

  However, even if it happened through my magic and not my machinations, I’d set something in motion and I needed to alert him to that.

  Thus I found the maintenance man and allowed some time to pass while observing him before I called Noc again.

  He again didn’t answer.

  I did not leave a message. But I did struggle to keep the panic at bay while trying to decide whether or not to send a text.

  I decided I should do all to be open about what had occurred so I sent a text.

>   It read:

  Darling, I’ve had a conversation I need to share with you. Please call me.

  This went unanswered as well.

  And hours later, when Noc should have picked me up from Valentine’s as he normally did when I was not already at his home after he was finished with work, he did not do that either.

  Which meant I knew I should have heeded his warning.

  A warning the love I felt for him dictated I could not heed.

  And as I purloined the keys to Valentine’s car and went out to nick the actual vehicle, I knew I had to go to him immediately.

  And face the consequences.

  * * * * *

  Noc’s Suburban at the curb in front of his house, it took me seven (yes, seven) tries to maneuver Valentine’s car in a spot two houses up from his, the only spot open on his street.

  In the end, my parking efforts weren’t exactly perfect. The back wheel was up on the pavement when I decided the deed was well and truly done. I left it at that, simply relieved I’d made it there in one piece, and doing my best to ignore my dread, I got out of the car and walked to Noc’s home.

  The door was barred against me, however I didn’t knock.

  I also didn’t bother to dig out my key.

  Magically, I turned the lock.

  And then I walked in.

  I saw immediately Noc leaning against the side of his island, an open bottle of whiskey on the counter, his fingers wrapped around a glass.

  Oddly, he appeared to be waiting for me.

  I drew in breath and made him wait no longer.

  Tossing my bag to the couch as I passed, I approached him.

  When I made the very edge of the kitchen area, I stopped because he spoke.

  “How’d you get here?”

  “I helped myself to Valentine’s car,” I shared carefully.

  This, I found instantly, was not careful enough for his face grew tight.

  “You drove yourself?” he asked.

  “I did, my love,” I answered.

  “Thought you’d spirit yourself,” he remarked in a manner I could tell was deceptively casually.

  “As you know, I’ve not learned how to do that,” I reminded him.

  “You haven’t learned how to drive a car by yourself but you did that,” he pointed out.

  “I—”

  “You’re here safe now, but swear to fuck, Franka, you do that again, shit will happen.”

  I knew immediately whatever “shit” he was referring to I did not want to happen.

  I allowed that to pass and tried to begin again.

  “Noc, we need—”

  He pushed from the island but moved no further as he interrupted, “For a woman who’s made an art of being attuned to every nuance of someone she’s meaning to play, seems you’re not cluing in real well on how to play me.”

  I suffered that blow and forced my voice to conciliatory when I replied, “You must know I have no wish to play you, Noc.”

  “No? So you called my dad just to say hi?”

  “I didn’t mean—” I began to explain.

  But Noc wanted different explanations.

  “What’d you do, babe? Sneak out of our bed when I was sleeping and copy his digits from my phone?”

  “Of course not,” I whispered.

  “Magic,” he stated.

  I didn’t confirm.

  Instead I again attempted to explain.

  “It wasn’t my intention—”

  “Right. Let’s be clear about that. I don’t give a fuck what your intention was. You weren’t gettin’ what you wanted so you called my fuckin’ dad. A man you have not met. A man you don’t fuckin’ know. A man you got no business talkin’ to until the time I thought it was right to give him to you. That was not cool and I’m thinkin’ I don’t gotta tell you that. I’m thinkin’ that’s the same in your world or mine. So I’m thinkin’ you fuckin’ know it.”

  I tried to take the situation in hand.

  “There are a variety of things we need to discuss, darling.”

  “No there aren’t and think I made that clear already.”

  I took a step toward him and the pain slashed deep when his expression shared unmistakably an approach was far from welcome.

  Therefore I stopped.

  But I didn’t stop myself from speaking.

  “Valentine warned me that I needed to control my emotion in regard to my magic,” I shared. “And what’s been going on between us was weighing heavily on my mind. So as I sat beside my crystal ball, fretting over this, your father’s number appeared in it. I didn’t ask for it to appear. It just appeared. And I swear to you that’s the truth.”

  “So you called it.”

  “I called it not knowing who I was calling.”

  “But you called it. Found out who it was and talked to him. And Sue, I’ll fuckin’ add.”

  “Yes, but Noc, once I knew who it was, I could hardly hang up.”

  “Maybe not but you could also have just said hey, introduced yourself and not fuckin’ brought up your gig with me and the shit you’re tryin’ to insinuate yourself into.”

  I bore that blow too and endured.

  “I can assert that you’ve made your feelings clear on this subject, my darling, however I’m uncertain I’ve done the same. There are things that are concerning me.”

  “I’m gettin’ that, seein’ as you were totally okay with bringing them up with my dad.”

  I shook my head and tried to steer us elsewhere.

  “He explained to me about Judy, the anniversary, and I understand where both of your thoughts rest on that matter. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t feel open to share yours with me.”

  “No, what you don’t understand is that I didn’t fuckin’ want to share that shit with you.”

  “I do understand that, Noc,” I said quietly. “I just don’t understand why.”

  “You don’t wanna know why.”

  “I do.”

  “No, Franka, you don’t.”

  I took another step toward him, stopped and stressed, “I want everything from you.”

  His words were implacable when he replied, “Trust me, you don’t.”

  “Please Noc.”

  “Let it go.”

  I shook my head, took another step and stopped. “I can’t.”

  “You can. You won’t.”

  “I see your pain,” I whispered.

  “Yeah?” he asked, his voice actually snide.

  My Noctorno.

  Snide.

  Regardless of the shock it caused he even had that in him, I persisted.

  “You helped me through mine, my love, I want to guide you from yours.”

  At that, but a brief moment elapsed before he burst into laughter.

  Laughter that held no mirth.

  My body locked at the foulness of the sound and the odious feelings it made me feel.

  When he stopped, my words dripped the ache I felt inside as I remarked, “You don’t think I can do it. You did it for me, but you don’t think I have it in me to do it for you.”

  I knew just how far he’d drifted from me when he had no reaction to the torment in my words, replying unemotionally, “I see you want that Franka and part of me digs that from you. What I do not dig is that you won’t fuckin’ listen when I tell you this is somewhere you can’t go.”

  “So you can force me to see my golden soul but you wish me to allow you to live in midnight?” I pushed.

  At that, with a sudden violence that was so startling my entire body jumped, and I had to fight cowering when he took his glass and threw it across the kitchen where it crashed against the cupboards on the opposite wall, the glass shattering, the whiskey splattering.

  And then came the thunder, the force of it making me wince.

  “They took me from her dead body,” Noc roared.

  I stood utterly still.

  “She was dead before I took my first fuckin’ breath,” he declared.


  Oh gods.

  Gods.

  He was talking about his mother.

  “Darling,” I breathed.

  “I was born in midnight and it was in the middle of the fuckin’ day I made it into the world,” he bit out. “You think you can take that from me?”

  “Noc,” I whispered, edging toward him.

  I stopped when he declared, “She never held me. She was dead before I was alive. Dead to give me life. I’m no doctor. I don’t know the research. I don’t know what infants can feel. All I know is, I was a baby and I knew he loved her. Fuck, Franka, my dad loved her so fuckin’ much, it tells me the man he was that he had the courage to give it another go, three times, because with what I felt from the minute I was born I wouldn’t think the man had that in him, that’s how much he loved her. That’s what I felt. I also felt just what he felt that he lost her. From my first breath, I felt his loss and I felt his love for me and that’s all I felt. And then that loss happened again. And then it fucking happened again. And I had to fucking watch.”

  “My love—”

  “You think you can take that from me?” he clipped.

  “I—”

  “There are no heroes, Franka.”

  I closed my mouth.

  “I know that,” he declared. “I learned that. Killed my own fuckin’ mother bein’ born and I prayed to God every damned night Judy was sick, askin’ him to let her win. Begging for that shit. She fought so fuckin’ hard, she deserved it. But it was more. The woman she was, there’s no reason I could get why she’d be forced to take that pain. Why a woman like her would be taken away from us. I didn’t understand what we’d done to deserve that because she sure as fuck didn’t do shit to deserve it. But she didn’t win. And we had to watch. We had to watch her waste away. We had to see her pain. And there was not one fuckin’ thing any of us could do about it.”

  He gave me that, shredding me with it.

  And then he blasted me with, “You know what makes a hero, babe?”

  Slowly, I shook my head.

  “What makes a hero is the one that’s left standing when the others are dead. Or the one that gave his life so the others could live. That’s a fuckin’ hero.”

  Cautiously, I said, “There are other definitions, Noc.”

  “Those are the ones that matter.”