Black as Midnight

by Mary Martel

  The room was, like every room in the Alexander house, excessively large. That's where the similarities ended.

  Unlike the other bedrooms I'd visited here, Quinton's bed was small, twin-sized. There was no headboard or footboard, simply a metal frame underneath it, holding it up. It was up against the wall and between the only two windows in the room. The bed was covered in a plain black comforter with one lone pillow in a white case.

  If the walls had been painted any color I couldn't tell because, from floor to ceiling, books were stacked one on top of the other, taking up all the available wall space.

  The windows were bare, exposing the entire room to the outside world if they cared enough to look in. I had no idea how he could sleep like that.

  Beside his bed there was a black milk crate flipped upside down. On top of it sat his cell phone, wallet, and a black picture frame. I didn't need to see the picture to know it was one of me. There was no one else he'd have a picture of beside his bed, not even his beloved brother. That was a space solely reserved for me.

  There were two doors on the opposite side of the room as the bed and I assumed they were for the bathroom and closet. Every bedroom in this house came with a bathroom and closet. Something affordable only due to the sheer size of the house.

  Other than that, there wasn't anything else to look at. No dresser. No television. Not even a damn rug on the cold, hardwood floor. The books were all neatly stacked, not a single one out of place.

  Just standing in the doorway looking in hurt my heart.

  "Uhhh..." I mumbled. "Where's all your stuff?"

  Rude, I know, but he would have been the same way with me.

  I snapped my mouth shut when I actually paid attention to the man himself instead of inspecting his belongings.

  He was sitting on the floor Indian style. There were black candle sticks on the bare floor, their wicks lit and burning bright.

  It looked like a goddamned fire hazard to me. Not to mention completely stupid after what had just gone down at the cottage. Quinton didn't seem the least bit concerned.

  He had a thick deck of oversized cards in his hands. The side that faced up was entirely black and he was casually shuffling them.

  "Are those..."

  "Tarot," he said casually. "The boys told me you've never had yours read for you and it's something you've always wanted. They swear it's the reason why you've been putting so much effort in to learn."

  It used to irritate me that they'd all talk about me behind my back and with Quinton especially, because he kept such strict tabs on me. That irritation was entirely gone at the moment.

  "Really?" I asked in a quiet, hopeful voice. I had waited so long for this moment. Today was turning out to be a serious day of firsts for me.

  "Really," he replied seriously. "Been waiting for you, baby. You took long enough to get to me."

  Finally, he looked up at me and away from the deck in his hands. His eyes narrowed and I should have known I wouldn't be able to get away with anything where he was concerned.

  "Close the door then get your sweet ass over here."

  I kicked the door shut behind me with my foot and winced when it slammed closed. I stood frozen for a few seconds, waiting to hear any sound of people moving around throughout the house.

  Blessedly, everything remained quiet.

  "What kind of sandwich did you make?" he questioned me, as I slowly approached him. "And, most importantly, did you make me one as well?"

  I smirked down at him.

  "There's cheese, mayo, ham, pickle slices, and tortilla chips on them. Oh, and they’re on white bread though because I don't do whole wheat. And yes, I made one for you too."

  He stared at me in stupefied silence as I sat down across from him on the floor, mimicking exactly how he was seated. I sat the plate down between us and gestured to it as I picked up half of one of the sandwiches. I'd cut them diagonally instead of straight down the middle. Somewhere in the back of my mind there was a memory floating around, it was foggy at best and I couldn't make out the face of the woman talking to me, but she said to cut it diagonally because that meant it was made with love.

  Absolute bullshit, of course, but still, I couldn't dodge the memory no matter how hard I tried and, in the end, I ended up cutting the stupid sandwiches diagonally.

  The damn memory had threatened to choke the life right out of me. I didn't remember anything before a certain point in my life. I had always chalked it up to being young and maybe my mind was trying to protect me by shielding me from the bad things that had happened around me that Vivian had brought into our lives, or maybe it was simply because I was too young to remember anything at all. I didn't know, but now I was thinking I had no memories of my early years for a reason. Rain had never specified how old I had been when I'd been abducted and I hadn't had the guts to outright ask him.

  "You put chips on your sandwich?" Quinton asked in amusement, snapping me out of my horrible thoughts.

  I nodded. "On both of ours. Gives it the perfect crunch. You can't call it a decent sandwich if there's no tortilla chips on it."

  He looked at me like I was insane. Which was saying something, coming from him.

  I rolled my eyes as I took a huge bite out of the corner of my delicious sandwich. And promptly choked on it when he stated, "You look different. You feel different. Something's off with your aura, I can see it."

  I coughed around my bite of sandwich. Quinton could see auras? This was news to me. I eyed him skeptically as I quickly swallowed my food. Just what else could he do?

  His eyes never left mine as he picked up half of his sandwich, stopping just before it made it to his lips. "Well," he prompted before biting off a huge chunk.

  Well, indeed.

  Hadn't I just lectured Damien on honesty?

  "I had sex with Dash," I stated bluntly, before taking another huge bite from my sandwich.

  Quinton choked, coughing.

  Yeah, I probably should have handled that better, led into it a bit more, eased him in.

  He dropped his sandwich onto the plate and picked up a glass of water that was sitting on the floor beside him. He chugged half the glass before slamming it back down. The clear liquid sloshed around inside the glass, some of it spilling over the side of the rim.

  "Excuse me?" he sputtered.

  It was almost worth it just to see his reaction and to have him off his game.

  "I had sex with Dash," I repeated like it wasn't a big deal. He gaped at me. A sense of victory washed through me. I loved catching him off guard. "It's really not a big deal, you knew it was going to happen eventually."

  He snapped his mouth shut and glared at me.

  "He didn't hurt you, did he?" he growled.

  Oh boy.

  Wasn't it supposed to hurt a little bit for all girls the first time? I didn't think it was wise we get into details here. Not about this subject.

  I should have kept my stupid mouth shut.

  "This is Dash we're talking about," I said in a hushed voice. I wanted him to really think before he opened his mouth again, because it was going to make me incredibly angry if he insulted Dash.

  "You do realize there will be no keeping this from the rest of them. Everyone will know eventually."

  I shrugged my shoulders, not caring if people knew. I'd done nothing I was ashamed of.

  "I hate him," he whispered darkly.

  My heart skipped a beat. I'd been afraid of this. He was far too possessive to just let this go without giving me a piece of his mind. At least he wasn't yelling.

  "Quinton," I growled quietly. "Does it really matter who I have sex with first? You knew that eventually it was going to happen. I couldn't remain a virgin forever and, honestly, I've been ready for a while now but none of you would listen to me."

  He fisted his hands and looked down at his lap.

  "Part of me can't help but being jealous and thinking that maybe if I had been able to talk you into staying here with me, then maybe i
t would have been me who you'd gone to for that."

  I sighed heavily. If I hadn't brought it up like a moron, then I wouldn't be sitting across from him and having this conversation. But I wanted to be open with him, he deserved that much from me. I felt like if he'd found out from anyone but me, then he would have freaked out about it way worse.

  "Quinton," I said in a quiet, but serious voice, hoping I only had to say it once. "My having sex with Dash had absolutely not one thing to do with living with him, and everything to do with him and the situation. It just happened and I'm glad that it did. I wouldn't take it back for anything. Dash and I have a very close relationship, it was bound to happen sooner or later. The same thing could be said about you though, too, because we have a very close relationship that grows by the day. Even on the days where I don't like you very much."

  "You always like me," he shot back.

  He was wrong, I didn't always like him but I did, however, always love him. There was totally a difference.

  I waved my hand toward the cards he'd sat down in a neat stack on the floor. "Can we stop talking about sex now and get down to business?"

  He leered at me. "Sure thing, baby. We can stop talking about sex and get down to business. In fact, that would make me really fucking happy. By the time I'm done with you, you won't even remember what Dash's cock looked like."

  My mouth dropped open.

  He was unbelievable.

  "Quinton," I hissed in mock outrage. "Stop talking about cocks."

  My cheeks heated, likely taking on a very unattractive shade of red that made the rest of me look washed out and overly pale.

  "Fine," he grumbled ungraciously, as he picked the deck up off the floor.

  My eyebrows shot up in surprise. That was way easier than I had imagined it would be, and he'd handled it very well. I thought he'd get way angrier and have some type of temper tantrum where he threatened Dash's life.

  I was proud of him for remaining calm.

  He cleared his throat.

  "Did you know that the Catholic Church used to say that tarot cards were instruments of the Devil?" he asked me casually as he shuffled the deck, like we hadn't just been having a seriously uncomfortable conversation involving my love life.

  "No," I answered, shaking my head. I hadn't known that, but I honestly couldn't say I was surprised.

  "It's true, and one of the many asinine things that were made up in order to frighten people away from them."

  "I believe you."

  He shook his head, as if clearing it. "This deck has been in my family for a very long time. Handmade by one of my great something or another, and spelled to never deteriorate so they'll always remain as they are."

  I watched his hands as they carefully shuffled the deck, completely fascinated. This was a new side to Uncle Quint and one I appreciated seeing. He'd rather I be kept in the dark and wrapped up in bubble wrap than to allow me to learn anything really useful. I had been slightly resentful until Rain had come along and pulled the kid gloves off of my training.

  It seemed Quinton had decided to follow in dear old dad's footsteps.

  Good deal for me.

  "They were in the storage unit with the rest of my family’s bullshit. I'd honestly forgotten all about them until Ty reminded me they existed a couple weeks ago."

  He looked up from his hands and looked me dead in the eyes. Warmth and sadness poured out of him. My face softened at seeing it.

  "They're a gift, for you. We both agreed on it."

  I broke eye contact, my eyes dropping down to the fingers I was twisting together nervously in my lap. Gifts made me uncomfortable and Quinton kept trying to dump all of his priceless family heirlooms off on me. Tyson went along with it, acting as if the whole thing was remarkably normal. It was getting to be a bit ridiculous if you asked me.

  "I cannot accept these," I said in a hushed, controlled voice. "Stop trying to give me your family’s antiques."

  "You are my family," he countered in a smug voice. "Your argument is pointless, they're already yours and I won't hear anything else about it. Now, pay attention."

  My head snapped up at the command in his voice and I scowled at him. But I didn't argue, I had since learned when to pick my battles and was smart enough to know when not to push when I knew I was going to lose anyway.

  Dropping the subject, probably because he knew he'd won, Quinton held out the tarot deck toward me.

  "Shuffle them, please."

  I took the deck from his hands and carefully shuffled them. I handed them back to him when I was done.

  He laid the cards face down on the floor in front of him and fanned them out, from left to right. Quickly, he picked out three cards, seemingly at random, one right after the other. He placed them face up in a line on the floor between us, again, from left to right.

  "Can you tell me what the placement of each card means?" he asked curiously.

  This was a basic setup. I nodded my head but refused to look down at the actual cards themselves. I was terrified to see what cards he'd pulled out of that deck and what they might mean for me. I was actually starting to sweat.

  "The first card you laid down represents the past."

  He arched an arrogant eyebrow, causing me to fidget nervously. I desperately wanted to get this right and not embarrass myself in front of him.

  "The recent past," I said more confidently than I actually felt.

  He nodded his head in approval. "Go on."

  I slumped in relief.

  "The second card, the one in the middle, represents the here and now."

  "Very good. And the third and final card?"

  "What's to come." That was the one that scared me the most.

  "You can look at them, baby. They aren't going to bite," he soothed with a soft, sweet voice.

  That was easy for him to say when the cards were meant for me and not him.

  "I kept things easy, simple even, for your first time. Next time, you'll practice on me. When you have it down, we'll move onto a more complex spread."

  Something I had so been looking forward to now filled me with dread. If I messed up I would look like a fool in front of Quinton.

  I sucked in a much needed breath before allowing myself to look down at the cards. The moment of truth was upon me and there was no going back now.

  The first one he'd laid down was the King of Wands. It depicted a king seated on a throne with a staff in his hand that had blossoms shooting off of it. His cape and throne were covered in lions and salamanders. I remembered from the books I'd read that the lion and salamander were symbols for fire and strength.

  I didn't think it boded well that the card was upside down, facing me instead of Quinton. The meaning changed when the card was flipped upside down like that.

  Quinton lightly tapped his finger against the King of Wands card, his face unreadable.

  "This," he began quietly, "because it's upside down, represents Rain coming into your life. Arrogant, to the point of being aggressive even. He's ruthless, selfish, and single minded when it comes to the things he wants. You don't want to stand between him and his goals. Yeah, this card is all about Rain coming back into your life. This is not a bad thing."

  Nothing about Rain being in my life would I ever consider a bad thing. Even if he was arrogant and everything else Quinton claimed him to be.

  "Now, this," Quinton moved on, tapping his finger against the card in the middle, the Strength card, "does not surprise me in the slightest."

  The Strength card depicted a woman in a white robe kneeling over a lion with her hands on his head. Supposedly, she's tamed the wild beast, or so I had read about. The infinity symbol floated over her head, representing wisdom.

  Honestly, I wondered just how smart she really could be kneeling over a damn lion like that. There were some animals that, no matter how tame they appeared, would forever remain wild and ferocious.

  I stared at Quinton sitting across from me looking calm, peaceful even.

/>   Case in point, I thought.

  "This is you," Quinton said seriously. "Or, the you that you've recently become."

  I frowned at him, not understanding his meaning. I didn't see myself in that card at all. It actually seemed a card better suited for himself than for me.

  "You don't believe me?" he asked incredulously. "This is all you. You might not be physically strong, I'll admit to that, but you have an inner strength and a resilience that humbles me. It takes courage to have gone through the things you have and still allow yourself to not be beaten down by life and to remain hopeful. You're compassionate and kind, which is another thing that always surprises me about you. This card is all about the person you are becoming and I think it says good things about where you're headed as a person."

  I swallowed thickly, no longer looking at the cards between us, my focus entirely on the man sitting on the floor across from me.

  From the moment he'd laid eyes on me in a dream, he'd been all about me and I'd become the center of his entire universe.

  "I don't think you see me the right way," I whispered hoarsely, emotion clogging my throat.

  He smiled sadly at me. "It's you who can't see straight. Not where you're concerned."

  "Whatever you say, Quinton," I replied in a sarcastic voice. I was almost more uncomfortable having this conversation with him than I had been when we were talking about sex.

  He chuckled quietly. "You can never just take a compliment." The thin, white scars covering his finger glinted in the candlelight as he tapped it against the last card. He smirked at me. "And this one?"

  I looked down at the last card and gasped.

  "Oh, no, no, no," I whispered in horror. "We're all gonna die. Seriously, Quinton, I don't want to do this anymore."

  I knew my fear was entirely irrational, but I couldn't seem to make it stop as I stared down at the Death card.

  The Death card had a skeleton wearing black armor while riding a white horse. He's carrying a black flag in his hands. A flag that has a flower on it, a rose. The horse and rider are standing over a dead body on the ground while a man, woman, and child stand in front of it.

  The picture on the card is fucking terrifying.

  "Breathe, baby," Quinton urged in a warm voice. "You're freaking out about nothing and you need to calm down. It's not actually a bad card and I know you know that because you're smart and you wouldn't have skipped this card in your studies."