by Diana Graves
I nodded, fully understanding her need to be alone and cry it out. She was mourning the death of so much; her mother, her innocence, and now her friendships.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said.
AWKWARD
I WASN’T DRESSED in my usual black on black, with a splash of color and a smidgen of jewelry. Instead I aimed at looking very approachable in a yellow top and flowing white skirt. I wanted Thomas to like me, and somehow dressing brightly made me feel more mommy-ish. As I approached Bastion Fatal it was still daylight out, but the evening was cooling fast, letting me know it would be a cold night. I should have brought a sweater.
Parking was always an ordeal at Bastion Fatal, but eventually I found a parking space far from the building. The Bastion employed hundreds of non-vampires and even though the parking lot was packed, it was deserted. I was alone making my way toward the entrance, and it was only just then that I realized I was nervous. Thomas was going to be my son, and this was going to be the first of many meals we’d share. Tonight would set the tone of our little family.
The only sign of my nervous state was the death grip I had on my purse’s strap when I met Damon at the entrance. He wore black slacks and a button up shirt with a white tie. The tie and his smile were the only things that stood out from all that darkness. He held his hand out to me in an exaggerated greeting as I climbed the steps, and I took it with a smile.
“Very punctual,” Damon said by way of greeting.
“I try,” I said. “Where’s Thomas?”
He spoke softly as we entered the great hall and made our way to the far elevator. “He’s trying to impress you by making a cake. I hope you like German chocolate.”
“Of course, but why is he trying to impress me? I assumed he’d be either angry or sad or indifferent toward me. I mean, I’m taking him away from you.”
We stopped at the elevator and waited. For once there was no crowd. “How many times do I have to remind you that you’re not taking him from me or tearing us apart, Raina? Raphael is, not you.”
“Does he understand that?” I asked.
The great metal box arrived and we entered it, but there was no elevator attendant. That was highly unusual.
“He understands more than you might think. He was aware of the danger his family was in before their deaths. He knows Raphael as his demon step-grandfather. And he knows you. You saved him, you avenged his family. You are his hero.”
You would think hearing that would make me feel good, but it just made me more nervous. Before, I was just the new mommy—now I’m super mommy. Great.
“How old is he?” I asked. Strange that I didn’t know that yet.
“A small, but very old six.”
The elevator doors opened and Damon led me down a hall that was in the middle of a renovation. The walls had wood panels with elegant carvings that I recognized from my dreams of Mort Villa; beautiful depictions of Adia and her barguests from the late eighteen hundreds. But the panels were in the process of being torn down. White plastic covered the naked walls and door-less entries into dark rooms. I’d been there before for Damon’s Life as a Vampire in America classes. This was where Damon worked and apparently it was where he lived as well. Only one door remained on its hinges. It was solid mahogany with gold leaf accents incased in wrought iron.
Damon unlocked the door with a skeleton key and opened it. With his warm hand on my back he ushered me in before him. I was greeted by the scent of Italian spices, sweet things and coffee.
“Shall I give you the grand tour?” he asked.
I already liked what was before me. His home was a windowless open space. Living room, dining area and kitchen occupied one large room, and everything was old world rustic with a modern flair. I fully approved.
Thomas was standing on a stool, frosting a chocolate cake with coconut frosting, though most of the frosting was going in his mouth. I wondered why he didn’t respond to my arrival, until I saw the wires running from his ears to his pocket. He was listening to an MP3 player. An old six, indeed. We moved past him unnoticed.
“This is pretty much everything. My room is down that hall and so is the bathroom. Thomas’s room is this way.” And, he opened a door near the entrance to the hall. “It was my office before he moved in.”
I peered in. It was on the small side for a bedroom, barely big enough for the bed and dresser that was in it.
“I can bring his things over on Saturday,” Damon said.
I couldn’t read his face, and I wouldn’t read his thoughts, but his voice let me know well enough that he was sad. He walked past me and sat on Thomas’s bed. I hesitated at the door for only a moment before I joined him.
“Damon, I know you keep saying that I’m not the one taking him from you, but I feel like I am. He might think I’m his hero, but you’re the one that saved him from a hellish life. He was a young werewolf orphan destined for some Goddess awful place the state puts unwanted little monsters. But, you were thoughtful enough to keep tabs on him, and when you saw that he was in trouble you stepped up and took responsibility for him, like a father. You are his dad. I don’t want that to change, Damon. I want us to be a family together.”
He was quiet and I let him be. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. He put a warm hand on my leg and squeezed it gently. I saw a tear fall from his cheek and I moved closer and put my arm around him.
“You have a beautiful home here, but I would love it if you moved in with me.” He looked at me then with a slight tilt to his head. I rubbed his back to comfort him. “It would be good for Thomas to have both his parents under one roof…and you’re good company, too.” I smiled at him, thinking, “Plus, the Bastion is no place for children.”
Without warning he grabbed my face and planted a passionate kiss on my lips! He was a great kisser, and it took some effort not to kiss him back—the shock of it helped a good bit. I didn’t want to offend him or embarrass him or make a big deal of it. We had a little miscommunication, that’s all. I reached up and gently pulled his hands from my head, and they left without a fight, but landed on my hips.
He was serenading my mouth with soft passionate kisses, trying to make them deep and probing, but I would not open up to him. When he pulled me into his lap I fell into it awkwardly because I wasn’t expecting it. Thankfully the fall helped release his lips from mine.
“Damon,” I breathed. “I’m sorry.” I sat up and moved away from him.
His body language was quite unreadable, so I was left baffled when he simple said, “Dinner is getting cold, and I’m sure the cake is frosted by now.”
I licked my lips and tasted his kiss on them. “I’m flattered,” I said.
“And, I’m foolish,” he said. “You’re with Sheriff Mato. He’s a handsome man. What made me think you’d choose me over him is beyond me. All women want vampires these days.”
Truth be told, Mato and I hadn’t spoken in days. I was sure he was keeping his distance because of Nil. I guess it didn’t seem right to sleep with a woman when you’re hunting her brother. In any case, Mato was MIA in my life as of a few days ago, but I didn’t say as much.
“You’re both handsome.”
“I wasn’t fishing for compliments, simply stating a fact.”
He didn’t sound sad exactly, but disappointed. I was, too. I liked him, but I never thought of him sexually…until then. He walked out of the room and I was left wondering what sex with a barguest might be like. Barguests are shape shifters, smooth and warm and they shift with liquid grace. To make love to a man who can fit you perfectly was an interesting if not arousing thought. Damon was protective and practical, brilliant, thoughtful and honest. I could not hope for a better man.
But, I had to ask myself what the hell he saw in me? I wasn’t ugly, but I wasn’t exactly supermodel beautiful. I didn’t have big eyes and pouty lips. Nor did I have a slim boyish figure and thick wavy hair. And, if he was going by personality, well, I hadn’t the foggiest clue what he saw appealing th
ere either; my poor judgment or low self-esteem? Not to mention that he was the most intelligent man I’d ever met—which was one of the reasons I adored him—but I had only a four year degree. He was so over my head, I couldn’t imagine him seeing me as his equal. There were better looking, more intellectual ladies out there.
I didn’t understand Mato either, but he at least had some lame excuse. He fell in love with my character before he even knew me. I could be an ugly hag and he’d still want me—his words, not mine. But, Damon had no such excuse. I would ask him, but I didn’t want to fish for compliments either. I never knew how to take them. I always went all girly-shy-like and I hated every second of it.
I must have sat there thinking for some time, because eventually Damon appeared in the doorway. He looked down at me with his arms crossed and I was seeing him in a whole new light. I noted the curve of his muscles, his narrow waist and intimidating height. He asked me to come to the dining table and his voice wasn’t just deep anymore, but sensual. He probably wasn’t aware of it, but he wasn’t just a good friend anymore. No, he just entered into the realm of potential lover. Well, in my fantasies at least. I wasn’t a cheater, but where’s the harm in using one’s imagination?
DINNER WITH THE BOYS
THOMAS WAS SMILING when I came to the table with Damon at my side. Lasagna, salad, bread and cake crowded the center of the small table with four chairs and three plate settings. The boy’s olive skin stood out against his bright green shirt, which in turn brought out the green in his hazel eyes.
“Everything looks lovely,” I said as I took a seat. Damon took the seat opposite me, and Thomas was between us.
“Dad made the lasagna, but I made the cake!” Thomas said.
I made a show of admiring his handy work, turning it slowly on its stout pedestal. “Whoa, this is probably the best cake I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot of cakes.” He beamed with pride. “You’ll have to make my birthday cake.”
“When’s your birthday?”
“It’s less than a month away, August tenth. I’ll be twenty-two years old,” I said.
“Whoa, you’re old.”
“She’s not so old,” Damon chimed in. He placed a small portion of lasagna on the boy’s plate. “I’m two-hundred and five years old. Now, that’s old.” Thomas nodded vigorously with his mouth full.
“Thank you,” I said when Damon filled my plate.
“Oh, thanks Dad!” Thomas said, just then remembering his manners.
I smiled at him. As far as deals with demons went, becoming the mother to a sweet young wolf wasn’t bad. I didn’t understand Raphael’s decision, but it could have been worse; death or enslavement.
The conversation was good and lively while we ate, but it bothered me to no end that Damon thought I didn’t like him, that he felt the sting of rejection. I couldn’t stand the idea that he might think I was repulsed by the idea of a relationship with him. It wasn’t that. It was just bad timing, that’s all. If I wasn’t with Mato, who knows what my reaction would have been when he kissed me. I might have melted into his smooth strong arms. We would have had to calm ourselves before we went too far, but promised to pick up where we left off after Thomas went to sleep—a nice thought, that.
But, what bothered me more than anything was the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Mato had been the very first man to ever show me any sort of attention. And, now another man has, and I’m beside myself with carnal thoughts…Was I too hasty with Mato, or were these feelings payback for not having a crazy lustful youth. Pagans, as a rule aren’t strictly monogamous, but elves are. Maybe it was the witch in me that wanted more than just one man…or maybe I had an inner slut that must be caged at all times, lest I destroy the good thing I have going with Mato…though, if Mato kills Nick, could I still love him?
So many thoughts were running around on the inside, while on the outside I was laughing, smiling and just plain enjoying the company of a good friend and goofy boy. The lasagna was made with no meat, but plenty of veggies. Damon assured me the cheese was soy based, but it melted so nicely and tasted better than any other fake cheese I’d ever had. It was such a lovely effort to accommodate traditional elven sensibilities, but my cravings for meat were getting stronger.
Thomas finished his dinner quickly and delved into the cake. Most children love sweets but I had to ask, “Why the rush?”
He looked up at me with glee, but his mouth was too full to talk. Damon spoke for him while he tried to manage the oversized bite he took the moment the cake hit his plate.
“After dinner we have plans for a movie.”
“Oh, then I better eat faster too,” I said. And I began chewing quicker. I looked across the table and found Damon eating faster. My eyes narrowed and I shoved another fork full in my mouth. He saw my fork full and raised me an overloaded bite, and it was on! We raced to the end of the meal, and he won. I only had one last bite on my plate.
“Congratulations,” I murmured around the food in my mouth.
Damon smiled big.
“Not yet, Daddy. You have to eat cake,” and Thomas put nearly a third of cake on his plate. Damon’s smile vanished and he delved into the cake.
I finished and put my plate out for Thomas to give me a piece as well, but I wasn’t sure I would be able to finish the sort of portions he was handing out.
“Here you go, Raina,” he said, and he set down a tiny sliver of a slice; hardly a bite.
I smiled at him. Damon playfully shouted, “No fair!”
I had him, and I slowly took the sliver of cake and bent it over onto its self, making it a nice manageable bite, and put it in my mouth with my eyes closed, savoring the fluffy moist cake and sticky coconut frosting.
I opened my eyes with a start when Thomas yelled, “Daddy wins!” Damon was smiling at me, with an empty plate in front of him, while I was still enjoying the bite in my mouth.
“How?” I asked after I swallowed.
“He went like this,” and Thomas mimicked his father opening his mouth impossibly wide and taking in the whole of his portion in one gulp and swallowing it whole. I laughed and the boys joined me.
Thomas jumped in his seat, “Movie time!”
Damon corrected him, “Cleaning time first.”
Thomas calmed himself and started cleaning. I started to help them clear the table but they shooed me away. “You’re a guest,” Thomas said, and I was forced to watch them from the couch. They worked well together, each with his own tasks. Thomas cleared the table while Damon cleaned the dishes. In less than ten minutes the table was clean, the food was put away and the dishes were drying on a rack. Very efficient.
I was sandwiched between the two of them on a comfy couch with a warm cup of coffee in my hands. Thomas had the universal remote and was leaning away from us, onto a large throw pillow. I cuddled into Damon. I could feel him looking at me, but I ignored it. I was probably confusing the hell out of him, because I was definitely confusing the hell out of me.
“Me and my cousins,” Thomas began, but then corrected himself, “My cousins and I, made a Kun Fu movie! I play the bad guy.”
He turned everything on and pushed play and for the next fifteen minutes we watched the cutest Kun Fu movie ever made. The oldest actor was eight, and the youngest was two. They roamed around a large garden acting out scenes of adorable drama and fighting. All those little ones were dead, killed by the same monster that infected Thomas with lycanthropy, but I tried not to think about it.
When it was over Thomas jumped from the couch and began showing us fighting moves that he used in the movie. At some point Damon had put his arm around my shoulder and I snuggled in a bit closer as we watched our boy show off his very impressive moves. I could tell he’d taken classes, and knew what he was doing. He had a talent for form. I turned my head and told Damon that we’d have to continue his training. He smiled. I loved his smile.
“Bed time,” Damon announced. Thomas lost his good posture, but he gave me and Damo
n each a hug and then walked slowly to his room. Damon followed.
I sat there a moment, half considering leaving right then. Tonight had been lovely. I didn’t want to muddy it up with a counseling session. I just wanted to snuggle into warm sheets and day dream my way into a deep sleep. I even stood and started hunting for my purse, but a wonderful sound stopped me.
I walked to Thomas’s room and found Damon sitting on his bed with Thomas snuggled into his comforter, eyes half open. The lights were off, save for a nightlight that sat on his desk giving a muted glow. Damon was singing to him, and his voice was rich and deep and calming. It was an enchanting melody that was as beautiful as it was effective. I felt the pull of his words. I recognized them as Gaelic, but I didn’t know what he was saying. I just knew I wanted rest, sleep, a tranquil end. I was on the floor, barely awake before I knew it and then I was out.
NICK OR NIL
I DIDN’T DREAM, but when I woke to the sound of my phone’s ring I felt well rested; like I’d slept all night. I woke in the dark, on a stranger’s bed, and for a brief moment I thought I was alone. Only Damon’s bright white tie, moving up and down with his breathing, let me know the barguest was lying beside me. He woke and smiled up at me.
“What is it?” he asked.
“My phone, where is it?” Damon didn’t say anything, but bent over me and took my purse from the nightstand and set it in my lap. “Thanks.” I felt him settle back down beside me, lying on his side.
“Now that you’re up, we can talk after you get off the phone,” he said. I grimaced and hoped he couldn’t see it, but he probably could.
I looked down at the screen on the phone and saw a picture of Nick before he became undead. He was smiling while he lit his pipe. My eyes went wide and my heart sped.
“What’s wrong?” Damon asked. Could he hear my heart beat? I hated being reminded of my ignorance. I really knew far too little about the creatures in my life.
