The windowless room was lit by strip lights over mounted pictures of movie and TV werewolves—some of them were even autographed. I smiled to myself—this was a real tourist entrance. People who came here could go away telling their friends they’d been brave enough to enter a werewolf bar.
I followed the faded red carpet down the lines of pictures. About halfway down was a fire exit, which I was pretty sure would take me out into what was probably a beer garden. I hadn’t seen it, but I had been almost positive the side closest to the walk had been fenced off rather than bricked up. The door at the opposite end of the corridor I’d come in through didn’t have a cute little porthole window in it, it was a solid padded affair—like the door into some club. I heard the faintest traces of music coming from the other side.
I pushed the door open and emerged next to a jukebox playing a raucous tune. A few people were dancing. I ignored the suspicious stares as I crossed the room, looking around– most people knew my name, but not all of them could recognize me by sight. The floor was polished wood, the walls an earthy green color. A couple of weres, dressed in biker leathers, stood at a pool table, chalking their cues with menacing deliberation.
A man at the bar slowly lifted his nose, ostentatiously sniffing the air, then turned to smile at me.
“Cassandra,” Simian called over the music, “get over here. I’ll buy you a drink.”
My name circulated around the room in a flurry of whispers; the dark stares turned considerably more cautious. As I ignored it and walked over to sit beside Simian, he smiled, taking a sip of his beer.
“Thank you for that,” I said, “but be aware I’m still mad at you.”
“I got that you weren’t pleased with me from the voicemails. I guess I should say I’m sorry.”
“It would help.”
“I’m sorry.” He took another sip of his beer. “I just thought, and still think, that you and DJ would make a wonderful couple.”
“You’re entitled to your opinion. But you’re wrong.” I cleared my throat. “Speaking of, where is our host? I’d like that drink.”
Simian grinned, leaned forward, and blew a breath over my hair.
“What are you doing?” I asked suspiciously.
“Just circulating your scent. He’ll be here as soon as he gets a whiff.”
A moment later, the door to the back slammed open and DJ entered the main part of the bar. When he spied me sitting on the stool, he vaulted over the bar to land beside me. He beamed at me as though I was one of his favorite people. I saw what LeBron had meant—he was gone on me.
“Cassandra, so glad you could make it. What would you like?”
“Just a Coke, please?”
“But it’s a party,” he said, spreading his arms—which showed off the muscles under his tight T-shirt. I repressed a sigh.
“She said a Coke, David, don’t push,” Simian said.
DJ scowled at the reprimand, but went back around the bar and poured me a coke. I reached for it with my right hand; his gaze finally tracked to the sling.
“What’s wrong with your arm?”
I pulled back my right hand and picked the drink up with my left.
“Nothing,” I said. I took a sip, then put my glass back down on the bar. I slipped my arm out of the sling and stretched it.
“Then why the sling?”
I was about to answer when the community side door to the bar opened. LeBron walked in, his arm around Brie’s shoulders. I shoved my arm back into the sling and wrapped my right hand around my glass. He greeted me with an over the top wave, as though making sure everyone in the bar saw that we were friends.
“Hey, Cassandra,” he said, then caught sight of my arm. “Hey—I heard you got hurt. How you doing?”
“Mending, thanks. Want to join us in a drink?”
LeBron pulled Brie in a little tighter and she snuggled under his arm. “Sure. DJ, can I have a pint? What do you want, kitten?”
I caught myself just before I made an audible gagging sound at that cutesy nickname.
“Oh, I’ll have a white wine spritzer, soda, not lemonade,” Brie said. DJ pulled a pint from the tap and started making Brie’s drink.
“Cassandra was just about to tell us what happened,” DJ said, putting the spritzed drink on the bar. Brie took it with a smile.
“No, I wasn’t,” I said. I took a sip of my coke while LeBron dug through his jacket pockets, muttering to himself about wandering wallets.
“Put it on my tab,” Brie said, knocking LeBron with her hip. He smiled down at her.
“Thanks, hun.”
I was hoping the little aside would have taken the conversation away from me, but DJ leaned on the bar and said,
“So, what happened, Michael?”
I glared at my drink, wondering if I could get away with chucking it in his face.
“Way I hear it,” LeBron said with relish, “she dislocated her shoulder and broke it in two places when a wall got pushed on top of her. It’s the talk of the station.”
I grumbled under my breath. DJ gave me a raised brow; he’d seen that my arm was fine. He said, “I heard that the woman that attacked Cassandra is headed to prison.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s good.” DJ said. “I was worried that I’d have to go out and avenge you.”
I raised my head and glared at him. LeBron looked between us.
“I don’t think she wants to talk about this,” LeBron said, belatedly aware.
DJ gave him a look that had Brie tugging LeBron away to meet someone across the room. Once he was gone, DJ leaned across the bar and said, in a low voice, “If your arm’s fine, why are you wearing a sling?”
“DJ—”
“Wait. Oh—You’re still playing human?”
“If I am, that’s my business and none of yours.”
He scowled at me. “You shouldn’t have to hide who you are. Are you ashamed?”
“No!”
“Sounds like you’re ashamed to me.”
I used my right hand to point at him.
“You listen to me, David Jacob Tanner, it’s my secret and I’ll decide who gets to know it and when. You do not get to judge me. You’ve had a lifetime to deal with what you are, I’ve only had a few months. Back the fuck off!”
He growled at me, then said, “I just worry about you.”
Before I could say anything, or throw my drink in his face, someone shouted for a pitcher of beer and he had to go back to work. I glared at Simian, who was silently sipping his beer.
“Still think we’d make a great couple?” I snapped.
“I’m beginning to think that David thinks you already are. He’s become very intense about you.”
“You understand how that’s mostly your fault, right?”
His only answer was to frown and sip his beer. I downed my coke, wondering if this had really been better than watching other people’s drama.
Someone tapped me on the shoulder; I spun to face a slight man with cropped black hair and dark eyes.
“Yes?” I snapped.
“Err,” he said, a little nervously. I tried to soften my tone and expression.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “What can I do for you?”
“Would you dance with me? Please?” He looked at me hopefully, and I realized that he was only in his late teens. I looked at Simian, who shrugged as if to say, what do you want me to do? I turned back to look at the young man. Over his shoulder, I saw his mates waiting for him to fail. I sighed and stood up.
“Sure, but I’ve only got one arm so be careful with me all right?”
He beamed at me like I’d made his whole day and led me out to the dance floor to the beat of a tune I didn’t recognize. It started off kind of slow, so he got to hold me close. I saw the disbelief on his friends’ faces and had to smile. One little dance would make this boy the envy of his friends for a while.
I was suddenly glad to be doing this for him, and wished someone had been so kind to
me in high school.
The music sped up; he tried to spin me, rather awkwardly. I grinned a little wider when I caught sight of DJ. He was leaning against a column, arms crossed over his chest and the most miserable, pissed off look on his face. It amused me so much that I laughed out loud, which made it look like I was having a good time with the kid. DJ turned his flaming red face away. I spun back into my dance partner, still laughing, then abruptly stopped in the middle of the floor. I wasn’t sure what had brought me to a standstill for a moment; then I felt a tiny tug in the center of my body.
“Are you all right?” the kid asked.
I felt the tug again and turned my head to scan the room for the source. Under my breath, I said, “Aram?”
“Um, my name’s Steven,” the kid said, looking hurt now.
I ignored him and started toward the door to the outside world.
Chapter Thirty-Two
I stepped outside into the warm night air and shut the door behind me, leaning against it to be sure that nobody followed me out. I felt Aram nearby, like a silent call; I’d followed it more from surprise than conscious choice. I pulled the sling off and tucked it into my pocket; I didn’t want him to think I was injured. I also tried to make a little sense of my hair.
“Aram?” I said aloud, looking around. The garden was arranged pretty much like any beer garden: outdoor lights cast shadows over picnic benches, a huge barbeque pit in the corner, and a gazebo shaped like a half hexagon. As soon as I looked at the deeper shadows under the gazebo roof, I knew Aram was standing there, watching me. I took several steps forward.
“Aram?”
I heard his boot heels click on the wood as he stepped to the edge of the dark so that I saw him.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, but didn’t let him answer. “I’d have thought this was too dangerous a place for you.”
He said, “Vampires and werewolves have been amicable for many years now, and to see you is worth the risk.”
He reached out his hand, palm to the side; it was a gesture I knew well. I took the steps up so that his hand could curve to the shape of my cheek.
“How did you know I was here?”
“I have told you before, pet, I always know where you are.”
I smiled a little, turning my face so my lips just brushed against the skin of his palm before pushing his hand away.
“How does that work, exactly, and why could I feel you were out here?”
“I feel you more strongly as I have drunk much more of you than you of me. I had to pull a little to let you know I was here, but the connection is always there if you look hard enough.”
I took a step back to lean against the wooden railing. “Why are you here?”
He closed the distance between us so we were almost toe to toe. “What if I came just for a kiss?”
I almost laughed. “You’d crash a werewolf party just for a kiss?”
He smiled and got his poet face on. My mother would have called it putting on his airs and graces..
“And sunlight clasps the Earth, and moonbeams kiss the sea. What are all these kissings worth, if thou kiss not me?” He leaned in close, pinning me in against the railing. His lips stopped just a whisper’s breadth from mine.
“Who wrote that?”
“Shelley,” he said, then kissed me.
As usual, my knees went a little weak and had to hold myself up with my grip on the rail. I felt my fingers making dents in the wood. Those cool lips were like the finest silk running in ribbons over mine. I had to close my eyes and remember how to breathe as I put my hand to his shoulder and pushed. Once upon a time I couldn’t have made him break away, but now I was literally stronger than him. He leaned back, and I knew he was watching my chest heave.
“I wonder if I could have you arrested,” I muttered.
“For?” he asked with an amused chuckle.
I managed to pull my eyes open. “That kiss,” I said. “It was just criminal.”
“You would be next to me for stealing my heart.”
I took a deep inhale of breath and blew it out in his face, then I started waving my arms between us. He stumbled back a step.
“Andra?”
“No,” I said sternly. “No, I can’t let you do this to me.” I sucked air through my teeth, trying not to hyperventilate.
“Is there someone else?” he asked, clearly unhappy now. “You are still my bride. You are still mine; I will not renounce my claim to you.”
“Don’t try to pull that possessive crap, Aram, you know it just won’t wash with me.” Getting angry helped me focus and push down more fragile and tender emotions.
“I do not understand.” He pouted, which couldn’t have been more seductive if he tried; his bottom lip just begged to be chewed on.
“I’m not doing this to hurt you, you have to believe that. I just need time.”
He threw his hands up in the air. “I have given you time. How much more time do you need?”
“No, no you haven’t,” I said. “Not really. You’ve been there in my dreams, almost every night. You distract me.”
“What is it I distract you from?”
“From finding some damn answers. Do you have any idea how tempting it is to just curl up in your arms and forget everything? Let you hold me for all eternity in ignorance? I can’t live like that, hunny, I can’t.”
I bit my lip, fighting back tears. Why was it, when I got really mad, that my body still tried to prove I wasn’t as tough as I thought by making me cry? I rubbed my hands up and down my arms to distract myself. Aram stood stone still, vampire still.
“Aram,” I said. My voice came out harsher than I meant it to be, so I took deep breaths and tried again. “Aram, can you just try to understand where I am coming from? I am frightened. Of myself, of where I might come from, of my feelings for you.”
“Love scares you?” he asked very quietly.
My reply came out much louder than his question. “It terrifies me. I had gotten used to this idea that one day, when I was older, that you wouldn’t want me anymore,” I said. He made a small scoffing sound in the back of his throat. A tiny part of me was pleased. “Please, just listen. I thought when that happened, maybe I’d fall in love again, maybe more than once, and one day, when it all ended, losing you wouldn’t matter so much. Now I’m scared to be in love for the first time and what could be the last time. We could be together forever! Mostly that should and does make me happy, but I keep thinking of all the ways it could go wrong. Our fight, our first real fight, scared me. I realized that I might have to live forever with the knowledge that I’d lost you.”
I hugged myself tightly and took another couple of deep breaths. “My entire world changed a few months ago. I learned some unwelcome things about myself: that my mother had enemies that might someday come for me, that I have no idea who or what my father is, but that my mother was so afraid of him, of his power, of something, that she sacrificed her immortality to seal it all away, to punch through to another reality so I could be safe. Can you see that? I might have family, but they are scary as hell, and Momma wanted me to have nothing to do with them.”
“I would protect you from that.”
“I know you’d try, but I can’t let you. Until I understand, until I have control, I could even hurt you.”
“You would not hurt me, Andra.” He took a step toward me, his arms out to embrace me. I put my hand up in a stop gesture.
“I may not mean to,” I said, “but I could. If I get mad, I set things on fire. Vampires tend to be flammable. I couldn’t live with it if I wound up killing you.”
“Does that mean you will never come back to me?”
“No! I tell you I can’t imagine having to go on forever without you, and you think that means I don’t want you?”
“I know you crave me, as I do you. Our tryst in the alley was proof of that.”
I was sure my face flushed tomato red.
“Our love making shames you?”
He tilted his head and I could tell he was confused again. “If you do not object to the love making, then what?”
“The venue,” I said. “I wasn’t raised to rut about in dank alleyways.”
“It is not my preference,” he admitted, “but it was all there was and I had to have you. I could not help myself.”
“Could you try? Can you understand how I feel?”
The pause was just long enough for me to get control of myself.
“To some extent,” he said slowly, “I know exactly how you feel. I was born the second son of a minor lord. Nothing was expected of me. All the family and estate duties fell upon my elder brother’s shoulders. I spent most of my time, I am ashamed to say, in wine, women, and card games. I was never expected to be more than that, and I expected little for my future. But I liked my life. One day I might have settled on one woman to marry and with whom to have children who would be even further removed from prominence than myself.”
“You expected a normal, unremarkable life.”
“Exactly, pet. Jareth went off to war, but I fully expected he’d be home when France was defeated and he’d take up his role as the eldest and heir.”
“But Jareth didn’t come back?”
“No. I can still remember how my mother cried when we got the news that he’d died on the battlefield at Castallion. Suddenly everything fell to me. I was the only heir. I was torn between grief at losing my brother and cursing him for leaving all his burdens to me. I took to the change poorly. I drank more, copulated more, and drove my father to despair for his legacy. I had expected, as you said, to live an unremarkable life. I took my normal habits to extremes, as if desperate to prove my whole life had not changed.”
“Jareth wasn’t really dead?”
“No. He was made vampire. Vampires were often drawn to battle zones then; such easy prey and low risk. A neck wound could easily be just another battle wound.”
I leaned back against the railing, relaxing; I was enjoying this little foray into my lovers’ past.
“So, when did Jareth return?”
“About five years after the war ended. I had gotten very drunk and into a fight over a game of cards or a woman—I can’t recall. I was lying on my ass in an alley, bloodied nose, bruised body, lack of spirit. When I saw my brother, I thought him a phantom, come to take me as I lay dying. Lancaster and York were battling, the throne’s succession was in doubt; and as the only son of a lord it all weighed on me to pick a side or not. When I thought I was dying, I was relieved. The estate could go to my cousin Englebert, who I both loathed and despised.”
Silent Doll Page 24
