In the Shadows

by Jill Nolan

  "No, that's not it." I'm not worried about his manwhore tendencies (at least not yet); I'm worried about his serial killer tendencies. I glance towards the stairs to make sure Mason isn't there, even though I'm pretty sure I can still hear him in the upstairs bathroom. "It's just, he's intimidating, you know? I mean, the first time we saw him, he was starting a fight for no reason. He can be kind of an asshole." So, asshole is not the word I want to use, 'killer' is. Then I'd have to take the 'kind of' out, because, well, I'm not sure you can be 'kind of a killer'. "I shouldn't like him."

  "He didn't push you into anything, did he?" Allison asks, looking ready to bolt upstairs and fight on my behalf if I say yes.

  "No, of course not." But then I think back to that first night when he pushed me against the wall. He literally pushed me, but I liked it. Does that make me crazy? Thinking about it is just making me want to run back upstairs and jump his bones.

  "Good. If you want my advice, enjoy the hot sex and keep your heart out of it, unless he ends up being worth it. You're pretty good at that as it is."

  "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or an insult."

  "It's an observation."

  A stair creaks at the top. Mason's coming

  "I'm making breakfast," I say quickly to change the subject. "Want any?"

  She gives me a look. "It's practically lunchtime."

  "Well, it's my first meal of the day, so it's breakfast."

  "No thanks. I ate when I woke up, at breakfast time."

  I shake my head at her before turning my attention to Mason, who is now in the kitchen with us.

  "Allison," he says, greeting her with a smile.

  "Mason," she mimics, smiling back. "Did you enjoy your night?"

  "Allison!" I hiss, half-embarrassed and half-amused.

  "I did," Mason says smoothly. He gives me a look that's both happy and hungry, and not for food.

  He's going to be the end of me.

  Chapter 27

  I watch as Mason lands softly on my balcony and tucks his wings against his back. I step outside to meet him, wondering what he has planned for us.

  "Ready?" he whispers. I had warned him that we couldn't wake Allison up.

  "Are you flying us somewhere?"

  "Yes.”

  I smile, excited at the prospect of flying through the night sky...this time without the fear that he’s going to kill me when we land.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here. Smells like something died nearby."

  I sniff the air but smell nothing. Must be his vampire super senses.

  He scoops me up and propels himself into the air. His vertical is impressive. It’s clearly superhuman strength, but I’m sure those muscular thighs help too.

  As we fly, I take turns looking at the night sky and looking down on the earth, I enjoy the feel of the wind on my face, and I relish the feel of Mason’s arms around me. I feel an overwhelming happiness being with this man/vampire.

  We've been hanging out practically non-stop since Friday, neither of us able to get enough of the other. He stayed almost all day Saturday, then later we met back up at a bar with a live band. That night we didn't have sex, though we had sex multiple times during the day when Allison went out to run an errand, but we slept all snuggled together. It took a while for him to leave on Sunday, not that I minded. We learned more about each other: our likes, dislikes, beliefs, good memories, and other random bits of information.

  Now, he's whisked me off on a Monday night, and I feel like a teenager again, having to sneak out of the house.

  When we land, it's in a forest on top of a cliff overlooking the river. It's beautiful out here. I've never been on the river at night, and it's so empty. The partial moon shines beautifully on the water below. I have an urge to jump in the water, but that's probably a bad idea.

  "Have you ever jumped off?" I ask.

  "I used to, a long time ago. We were only here for one summer, but we found a ton of areas that we could jump from, and we used to swim almost every day."

  "A ton? I didn't realize there were so many spots. I only know of one, but the water police always yell at people not to jump. And there was a super high cliff that my dad used to jump off, but they put a dam up so no one could do that anymore."

  "Yeah, the river has changed a lot since then."

  "Really?" Downtown Dells changes practically every year, with restaurants and shops constantly coming and going. There's a lot of new development that wasn’t around when I was a kid. But the area around the river is protected. I'm pretty sure it only really changed before both of us were born. Maybe there’s little things that’ve changed. They’re definitely stricter about what you can and can’t do on the river. It’s probably gotten more crowded. Too crowded.

  "This used to be my favorite spot."

  "How'd you find it?"

  "I explored this area until I knew every inch of it."

  "And why was this your favorite spot?"

  "Just look at the way the river curves, at the way the rocks are carved, at how the trees are growing where you wouldn't expect them to." I look at the beauty of the landscape before me. I lean against Mason as I just take everything in. He's right about this being an amazing view.

  I turn to him, feeling honored that he'd share such a beautiful place with me. I kiss him, sweetly at first, but it quickly turns ferocious.

  All of a sudden, his wings shoot out, encapsulating us both. It’s like being surrounded by a creepy curtain, but it does provide us with privacy, not that anyone would be likely to see us here.

  He picks me up and brings me farther into the forest, where the trees block out what little light the night sky provided. He lays me down on a blanket he must have laid out earlier, then proceeds to ravage me.

  ◆◆◆

  We lay next to each other, me on my back and Mason on his side, both clothed now. That was my first time doing it outside. While still hot, I like being inside better. I felt too exposed, like anyone could see us even though that would be highly unlikely due to the location and the darkness. Every once in a while, a rock would dig into my back or I would have a distant worry about spiders and bugs, but all thoughts other than Mason and what he was doing to me disappeared almost as quickly as they formed.

  I stare at the star-filled sky while wondering what it means that I like having sex with Mason when he looks like this, in all his inhuman glory. I can't deny that I like this version of him, this terrifying, fierce creature that dominates my fucking world. I like all versions of him, which makes me wonder if he feels the same way about me.

  "Have you been with anyone else since we started...this?" I ask. What Allison said the other day stuck in my head. I really don't believe he's using me, and everything he does points to him really liking me. Still, I have to ask. I want to make sure we're on the same page before I inevitably fall for him further.

  "No, only you. It's only been you since you saw me in the woods."

  I turn towards him, needing to see his face, to see if he’s telling the truth. "But I saw you with someone on your lap after that."

  He brushes hair away from my face. "I didn't hook up with her."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I wanted you." I can feel myself swelling with happiness. Because of me?

  "It didn't seem like you did,” I argue, wanting to make sure he meant what he said.

  "It’s not like you really noticed me. I wanted to talk to you at the bar, the first night I laid eyes on you, but you were too focused on Nic, and then I got in a fight so I never got the chance to try again. After that, I wasn't sure how much you saw of me as a vampire; I was worried you might recognize me."

  "I was kind of with Nic then, too."

  "That was hard to watch, harder not to kill him."

  "Please tell me you're exaggerating."

  "I'm not. Lucky for him, I've got self-control. Usually." A small smile plays on his lips.

  "Lucky for a lot of people, probably."

  "True."


  Oddly enough, I'm finding that I care less and less about his need to kill or his violent tendencies. Despite my best efforts, I really like him. Or, maybe just mediocre efforts. Still, it seems like he likes me just as much, if not more. Because I know what he is, I see a side of him that few have.

  “When I first saw you, as a vampire, you looked like you were going to kill me. Would you have killed me that night, if my friends hadn't run up?" I’m a bit nervous to hear the answer.

  "No. If it were anyone else, I might have, but once I saw it was you... I don't know. I was going to scare you, you know, threaten you, but I ran out of time."

  "What if I ended up telling the police about you? What would you have done then?"

  "Nothing. Those were empty threats. I needed you to be scared enough to listen to me, because, if you hadn't, you'd be putting yourself in danger from other supernaturals and from legitimate hunters. And I would have had to run, start over somewhere new. Though if you did tell someone like Nic, I probably would have just killed him."

  I choose to ignore that last comment and focus on the good things he's saying. "You really wanted me since the first night you saw me? Is that what you tell all the girls?"

  "I know what my reputation is, but with every girl I've slept with, I've made it clear from the beginning that it was just sex. Some of them still liked to build up a fairy tale in their heads that it would become more than that, and when it didn't happen, they got angry or upset. With you, it's not just about sex. I like you, and I want all of you." I realize I'm holding my breath. God, that's romantic. My stomach is literally bursting with butterflies.

  How did I develop these feelings so quickly? There's just something about him that draws me in, more so every night I spend with him. It amazes me how he's able to be cute, affectionate, funny, and sweet while in a different situation, he's cruel, violent, and terrifying. The thing is, he's never been violent with me. He's brutally honest and definitely terrifying – and he may have threatened me a few times – but he's never hurt me, not even close.

  “You want to be my boyfriend?” I tease, a stupid smile plasters itself on my face.

  “Yes,” he says sincerely, his smile broad and his black eyes alight.

  “Okay.” I can’t stop smiling. This is ridiculous. This can never actually work, can it? I suppose we'll find out.

  We lay silently for a while, enjoying the night sky.

  "What was your childhood like?" I ask. He now knows all about my family and my life, but I don't know much about his life. I want to ask about his family directly, but he hasn't brought them up at all, and I wonder if they're all dead or if he's just not in a good place with them, or some combination of the two.

  "My childhood," he starts with a smile, "was wild. There were four of us boys, including my older brother, that were inseparable. We ran around wherever we wanted, over every part of the landscape. We played outside most of the day, swam all the time, hunted small game, rode horses. No one cared what we did; we were free and happy. Those are the best memories of my life."

  He seems lost in reverie, so I stay silent to give him space.

  "My father died shortly after I was born," he continues after a few minutes. "All I knew about him was that his name was Yoan Barteau, and he was from France. I lost the rest of my family at fifteen; they were killed in front of me."

  "I'm so sorry." I say the words even though they feel pathetically inadequate. That must be why he wanted revenge enough to make a deal. "Is that what you have nightmares about?"

  "Yes."

  "You were mumbling a little last night. It sounded like it was a different language."

  "I’m American Indian, Ojibwe. That’s my native language."

  “Really? So, when did you learn to speak English?”

  “Around fifteen.”

  “What? Why so late?”

  “I didn’t need to speak it until then.”

  “Did you grow up on a reservation?”

  “No,” is all he says.

  “You barely have an accent.” I don’t even notice it unless I’m really paying attention, but he does have a slight accent.

  “I worked hard not to.”

  His answers are clipped, and he doesn't seem to want to elaborate on any of them. "I'm sorry if I'm asking too many questions."

  "I want you to ask me whatever you want to know. There's just certain things I can't talk about yet."

  "Okay. Will you tell me what your family was like?"

  He tells me how his mother was beautiful and strong and caring, how his maternal uncle took care of him like a father, how his maternal grandparents helped raise him and gave him such insight, but that he didn't get the time to learn even a quarter of their wisdom before they were gone. He tells me about his cousins and friends. Mostly he talks about his brother, who was his best friend.

  "It sounds like you looked up to your brother a lot. How much older was he?"

  "Three years."

  "And you guys stayed close your whole childhood?"

  "Yeah. After my parents married, they left the tribe to stay with my father's people. When he died, we moved back, but my brother was considered an outsider by the kids his age since they hadn't grown up together. A few years later, I had made friends, but he still hadn't, which is why he mostly hung out with me and my friends.

  "He...made a sacrifice, saved a lot of people, myself included. He's saved me more than once, actually. He was always the one who got us into trouble with the adults, but I was the one who got us into dangerous situations. Usually, they turned out fine. One time, though, we found a tree that had fallen across the river. I made sure it was stable, then immediately started walking across while my brother yelled at me to get back. I ended up losing my balance, falling fifteen feet to the river below, and hitting my head on something beneath the water. I didn't pass out, but I was so out of it that I couldn't keep myself afloat. I felt myself losing the battle with the water, and I thought for sure I would drown. Then there he was, pulling me out of the water. He always protected me."

  We're silent for a while then, and I think he's stuck in his past again. I let him be, until I notice that his face is set in a hard expression, like he's trying not to show any emotion. I gently run my fingers over his chest, hoping to ease him out of whatever dark place he went.

  "It's getting late."

  "I'll take you home. Can I see you tomorrow?"

  I smile, happy that he wants to hang out with me so much. "Sure."

  Chapter 28

  Allison, Tom, Mason, and I stand at a table at the bar. There were more people with us, but everyone separated into smaller groups.

  Being with Mason feels so natural now. When we're out with friends, I forget that he has this whole other murderous side to him. When I do remember it, I no longer feel ashamed to be with him or guilty about his victims. I'm just glad that I know that part of him, too. His other side has now become a dark little secret that I guard.

  A part of me feels bad that this happened right after I ended things with Nic. He's here, but I think we're both avoiding each other.

  "I can't wait to be done with school after this year," Allison complains. "What school did you go to, Mason?"

  I look at him, realizing I never asked him about school.

  "I never went to college. Well, I never went to the classes, but I did go to the parties."

  "When's your next fight?" Allison asks. I told her that he's an MMA fighter.

  "Don't have one for a while, but if you want to see me fight, just pick out a guy."

  I push him gently, warning him. "No." I do not want to see him fight some random guy for no reason. I wouldn't mind seeing an actual fight of his, though.

  He puts his hands up in defeat, but I can see mischief dancing behind his eyes. He puts his arm around me and pulls me into him. I relax into him, loving how I fit against his body.

  "Maybe I can fight you later," he says quietly in my ear, running his hand down my back and
over my ass.

  "Maybe," I smile up at him. "I'm going to get another drink."

  "I'll get it."

  "No, I got it. You bought every other round."

  I walk over to the bar, waiting for a bartender to take my order.

  “Hey, Keegan.”

  I turn around to find Tom’s weird friend that ambushed us at the cafe. Sam, I think. There's no way to avoid him, and he's looking right at me.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I say, trying to be polite even though I really don't want to talk to this guy.

  “Trying to order a drink. That must be why you’re at the bar too.”

  “Yeah.”

  “How’s your internship going?”

  “It’s good. Keeps me active." I wonder where this conversation is going and hope to get my drink order in soon.

  “It's busy here," he says, looking around. "Looks like we'll have to fight for their attention. My people, the Winnebago, have always been good at fighting.” With that, he winks at me.

  That strikes me as an odd thing to say, and I have no idea how to respond. Is he trying to impress me or something? “Okay,” I say with a forced laugh.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” Oh, okay, so he wasn’t just talking to me to be friendly in his own weird way.

  I shift awkwardly. “Oh, no thanks, I have—“

  Mason appears out of nowhere, fuming. “She’s with me.”

  "Sorry, I was just making small talk." Sam puts his hands up in an 'I meant no harm' gesture.

  "The fuck you were."

  Why is he so pissed off? "Mason, it's fine. Let’s go." I try to turn Mason around to go back to our table. God, I never wanted to be the girl that had to calm her boyfriend down because she was literally just talking to another guy. I may get jealous, but I don't act on those feelings like Mason is doing right now.

  "I think this asshole wanted to do more than talk."

  "I didn't know she was with someone."

  “Well, she sure as fuck wasn’t going to be with you. Have you seen yourself?”

  “Mason!” I scold, feeling bad that he’s being so mean.