by Lindsey Iler
He’s tall, overpowering the massive entryway behind him. His hands are large, cupping the door, refusing my entry. His well-tailored suit and crisp shoes say everything the outside world needs to know. He’s in full control.
“And you are?” he asks.
With my hand held out between us, I introduce myself. “I’m Edric. A friend of Lennox’s.”
“He’s not my friend.” At the sound of Lennox’s hypnotic voice, I glance up to spot her cascading down the stairs. Dressed in a pair of jean shorts, black combat boots, and an adorable snarl on her lips, she looks every bit of a dream.
“Oh, now, doll, don’t say things you don’t mean,” I goad, knowing me calling her doll will set her off.
“Don’t call me pet names, Edric.” She stops at the bottom, her clutched fists biting into her hips. “What do you want?”
“Our dinner got cut short last night, so I figured I’d take you to lunch,” I say over Mr. Callahan’s shoulder. He still blocks my entrance, which is okay. If a boy like me showed up for my daughter, I wouldn’t trust him either.
“My daughter is strong enough to make her own decisions, so I’m going to bow out of this conversation, Edric. It’s nice to meet you.” He shakes my hand quickly before disappearing somewhere within the house.
At his absence, I walk inside, gaining an eye roll from the lovely Lennox.
“Oh, come on, Little Wicked.” I move into her space. “Aren’t we going to talk about what happened last night? About how your blood was set ablaze, and the only coolant was my touch?”
“I’d rather not.” She turns her back and books it up the stairs.
Does she think I’m not going to follow her? I’ll enjoy the show as she leaves, but I’m not backing off until we have the conversation I’m owed.
Ever since I’d dropped her off at some run-down museum, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. The way her body had contorted, searching for any semblance of comfort. The sweat the pain had sprouted all over her body. I hadn’t been sure what was happening until I touched her. Flesh the temperature of burning coals.
And the moment my skin touched hers, she stilled in relief.
What I don’t understand is why? Why my touch brought her comfort, but more importantly, what caused her pain?
She’s different.
That much I’m sure of. It wasn’t just a line when I said she was my reason for living. There’s a sickening feeling in my stomach I don’t recognize. Maybe it’s the way I feel about her so suddenly, or maybe it’s the reason why I do.
“Edric, seriously, do I need to kick your ass all the way out of town for you to take a damn hint?” She circles on me, ready for a fight. Damn, her scowl is adorable. “Are you smiling? Why are you smiling?” The corner of her lips begrudgingly rises up toward the ceiling, only forcing mine wider.
“You’re feisty before eight P.M.,” I poke, knowing I’m doing just that.
Lennox is a wild animal, and getting her riled up is not that difficult.
She opens her bedroom door, not slamming it in my face as she enters, and I follow behind her. Unlike her, I close it. I take in my surroundings. The last time I was in here, Lennox put on quite the show. This time, I don’t think I’m going to be as lucky.
“As much as I’d love to sit here and go pound for pound with you, I’m in no mood, Edric.” When she faces me, the bright bedroom lights reveal dark circles under her eyes and a tightened edginess to her shoulders.
“Long night?” Never one to back down, I’m fully prepared to sit on this luxurious bed, whether she protests or not, until Lennox talks to me, tells me something real.
“Edric,” she says, her tone tight. She jerks her top drawer open and grabs something. Whipping down her jeans, she slips on a pair of sleep shorts and comes to stand at the edge of her bed. “Scoot over.” The back of her hand taps against my thigh.
At her demand, I do just that, pulling back the corner of her comforter. She slides in, giving me her back, and grabs a remote. The shades close, darkening the room around us.
With my back against the headboard, I listen to the sounds of the house. The small creaks of the floors outside her bedroom. Staff milling in and out of the front door. The buzzing of the security system, so faint but ever present. I’d say there are at least thirty cameras on the main floor, give or take, and that doesn’t include the five along the front barrier.
What does this family have to hide?
Why such high security for a small-town mayor of the rich?
Lennox sniffles. There’s no holding back my groan. Tears and me are like vinegar and water. With a held breath, I hope to hear only the buzz of the cameras, but a whimper rings through her large room.
“Fuck,” I whisper to myself. My head hits the sturdy headboard as she sniffs. “Lennox, you okay?”
“Not really,” she answers. Her movement is small, but from it, I know she’s pulling the blanket close to her. “Have you ever felt a pressure on your chest? Like a crippling pressure?”
“Want to talk about it?” I ask, hoping she’ll say no.
With a heavy sigh, she sits up, tucking the covers under her arms. In the faint light coming from the seam of the curtains, I watch her head hit the headboard, and she rolls until her eyes meet mine in the darkness.
“Do I look like I want to talk about it?” she asks.
Rhetorically or not, I’m going to hand over an answer.
“You’re the one who’s crying. Don’t most girls like to chat about their feelings?” I hold my chuckle because, knowing Lennox, she’ll drop an elbow on me if she gets angry enough.
“I’m not like most girls, Edric.” She shakes her head, slowly, barely noticeable. “If I’m certain about one thing, it’s that I’m as different as they come.”
There’s a defined sadness in her words. She’s right, though. Since the moment my cousin transformed into something unhuman in front of me, I’ve always been certain there are things walking amongst us that are different.
Lennox proved last night that she’s one of us.
The only thing is she doesn’t know I’m just as unique as she is.
Our blood comes from different families, but we are just the same. To the outside, we are evil. To those who are like us, we are enemies. Lennox doesn’t know who I am, but I know who she is, and that’s good enough reason to keep my distance.
The problem is, when she looks at me through her thick, dark eyelashes with this wicked frustration in her eyes, I want to know every bit of her soul. What makes a girl like Lennox tick? I plan on burying myself so deep into her being, she won’t know where she ends and I begin, by the time I’m finished with her.
“Feeling trapped is normal.” I pressure her to understand, to let her know she isn’t alone.
“I don’t feel trapped. I. Am. Trapped.” She sits forward, blocking me from seeing her face.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“It’s nothing. Forget I said anything.”
“People in your life will make you believe your feelings don’t matter, but, Lennox, whatever plagues you shouldn’t be kept inside. That shit will eat you alive.”
“I don’t have the privilege to discuss what haunts my sleep.” Lennox jumps from the bed and walks into her bathroom.
“I know what you are,” I call.
All movement and sound cease to exist inside her room. A pin could drop, and I’d hear it bounce against the plush carpet.
Slowly, her chocolate hair drapes around the edge of the door, and one single eye watches me. As she exits the bathroom, she rests against the wall beside one of her bookshelves. The light from the bathroom shows her hands behind her back, and her sky-like eyes plastered to me. They’re curious, dripping with questions.
“I all but hoped I wouldn’t have to do this.” I slide from the mattress and take slow, painful steps to her. She doesn’t move, still like the ocean before a storm. My fingers reach up and wrap tight around the ends of her loose hair
, forcing her head to the side. Her breaths are shallow and quick. “I know what you are, Lennox.”
“And that doesn’t scare you? I could kill you in a single second,” she threatens.
“You could kill me, sweetheart, but you and I both know you won’t.” My tongue jabs out and licks the plump flesh of her bottom lip.
“And why is that?”
“There’s one thing more powerful than rage, and that’s lust, Lennox, and you and I”—I tug her hair a little harder—“we drip with both.” When I release her, she stands tall, all the bit confident. “Now the question is which one will win?”
“If you know what I am, then you must be . . .”
“Different. Like you.”
“Which explains why you weren’t completely freaked out by my little episode yesterday.” She shakes her head, the sudden realization setting in. She’s still afraid, but I quickly abandon her thoughts, afraid I’ll see too much. “Have you known this whole time? Is that why you approached me in the woods?”
“Deep down, I think I’ve always known. When you’re on the other side of mortal, you tend to be a little more aware of those around you. You’ll see. It’s still fresh and new for you,” I explain.
“How different are you?” Lennox asks.
“Different enough. Not like you, but I have my quirks.” My own smile widens with hers.
“Is that what we’re calling them? Quirks?” Lennox laughs, and the lights begin to flicker, only making her laugh harder. One of the bulbs pulses with light until it shatters. She gapes at the shards of glass. “Let’s both admit that’s weird.”
“Is that the first time that’s happened?” I ask, curious of how in control she is of her abilities.
“Yeah, I’m beginning to realize there’s more to this thing than just keeping the town under control.”
“Growing up, the stories of the Belle Meade Angels were like folklore, a sort of childhood scary story our aunts and uncles would tell us.”
“When did you come to realize it wasn’t just a bunch of nonsense?” Lennox asks.
“The moment I looked in your eyes.” I tilt my head to the side, inspecting the perfect glimmer of amber within the blue. “The first night we met, they were this clear blue, and now, they’re haunted. The color’s changed.”
Her eyebrows scrunch together, and she darts to the vanity mirror, leaning close and staring at her reflection.
“See that flicker, it crosses your eyes every thirty seconds. It’s the beast inside you.”
“I’m not a beast.” She straightens, forcing me backward.
“Oh, honey, we’re all beasts. Some of us control how often they’re seen, while others let them roam free. Something tells me yours will be seen quite often.” I wiggle my finger in front of her face. “Tsk. Tsk. A lot of sinners in your town.”
With a gentle chuckle, Lennox pushes me back. “Stop it. Now, how about that lunch?”
“Angel wants to dine with the devil.”
“The devil has nothing to do with it. I’m in need of a distraction.”
“Fair enough. I’ll let you get dressed. Meet you outside in five.”
*****
We’ve been at the diner for less than ten minutes, and for the last five, Lennox’s attention has been plastered outside the window of the café.
“Your coffee is getting cold.” I tap my silver spoon on the rim of her mug. The light tink tink pulls her back to Earth, back in front of me instead of in a different world completely.
She shakes her head, lifts the cup to her perked lips, and blows on the coffee that might as well be iced by now. A distracted Lennox does not make for good company. Her eyes are distant, shadowed by whatever has pulled her away from me.
“I’m sorry.” She deserves an Emmy for her performance when she glances up, halfway interested in me. “I thought I saw someone.”
“Someone else catching your attention is not something I like, Lennox Callahan.” I reach across the table and touch my thumb to her hand.
Like a spring, her head pops up.
A soft grin grows into something wild right before me.
“I never took you for the jealous type, Edric Blackstone.”
“I’m not jealous at all.”
I nod to the waitress to grab her attention and hold up the menu. When she comes to the table, Lennox takes the moment to shift her gaze back outside.
“I’ll have the club and she’ll have the—” I shake my head, kind of annoyed, but more amused than anything else. “Len, what do you want to eat?”
“Oh my, I’m horrendous company, aren’t I?” She flips open her menu, not long enough to read a single word on the pages. “I’ll have the same.”
Once the waitress backs away from the table, I watch Lennox. She fiddles with her hands, picking the black polish from her nails.
“If you can tell me what our waitress will be bringing you for lunch”—I lean back, resting my arm on the booth— “I’ll give you anything you want.”
“Anything I want, huh?” She freezes me with her playful glance. “Now, let’s see, what do I want most? Maybe I can torture you with a chick flick marathon.” She giggles sweetly, drawing the attention of the people beside us. “Perhaps a fun-filled day of shopping.”
Forcing myself into her space, I hover over the table to tuck her loose strands behind her ear. “Come on, Little Wicked. I think you can come up with something better than that. Dig deep. What do you really want?”
“What I want, you can’t give me, Edric.” She worries the ring on her thumb, twisting it endlessly until I put my hand over hers.
“What do you want?” The tone of my voice is foreign, dark and raspy, tortured and unbearable.
Lennox tilts her head to the side. What catches her eye is what surprises me; a group of teenagers laughing. One of the boys throws a sugar packet across the table at one of the girls. She blushes, finally grabbing the attention of the boy who’s held hers for far too long.
“Is that what you want, Lennox? A life of normalcy, mediocrity?” I rest my forearms on the table. My movement draws her away from the scene. “You are anything but normal. You were born with diamonds in your eyes and fire in your veins.”
“Could you ever imagine not being different?” She shakes her head, closing her eyes as if her curiosity is something to be ashamed of.
“Every day, but it’s useless.” I shift from my side of the booth and slide in beside her. Shocked when she scoots closer to my side, I drape my arm over her shoulder. “Those born like you and me, with a purpose, a destiny, don’t get a say. We are tools, used in someone else’s agenda, and we either accept that, or spend the rest of our lives fighting what we are.”
“What am I?” she asks, glancing up at me through her dark, thick eyelashes. “Some days I feel like a monster. It’s only been a few days, and it feels like I’m stuck inside a storm, incapable of escaping. The winds shift so fast, I never have a chance to recover from the initial damage.”
“Compared to others I’ve encountered, I can guarantee you are very low on the monster list, Lennox.”
“I’m going to have to kill people,” she whispers.
This internal struggle she’s going through, I know it all too well. Back in our old town, I realized awfully quick my life wasn’t going to be anything like my friends’. While they were playing football in the fields behind their houses, I was going to war for my parents. My job was to read minds and, on some occasions, to spill blood in the name of our survival. Families as different as mine tend to collect enemies like those boys collected baseball cards.
If I can give Lennox one thing, it’s reassuring her that she’ll survive anything that’s brought in front of her.
I dip my mouth close to her ear, where it mingles happily with her soft hair, and whisper, “I remember my first victim.”
This is a bad idea, Edric.
I silence the man inside my head who tries to stop me from going down the wrong road. It’s not very
often I don’t listen, but for her, I’m willing to defy him.
“Edric,” she says, and as she does, she grips my hand, tangling her fingers with mine like it’s nothing.
But it is. When our eyes meet, we both know it.
“I was sixteen,” I recall, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry, I’ve never told anyone this. Not even my parents. Not that they would’ve cared.”
“You don’t have to, you know, tell me.” Her hand squeezes mine, reassuring me of her words.
“If it makes the weight on your chest lift, even but a fraction, then I want to.” I kiss the crown of her head. The gesture is one of intimacy. I don’t like it, yet somehow, it’s giving me life at the very same time.
“Did it feel natural?” Her voice quakes, fear clouding her question in this thick, relentless dust she believes is incapable of being moved.
“Honestly?” My thoughts wander to the night I looked someone in the eyes, knowing I’d shed them of every last bit of humanity they possessed.
“I need to know.” She curls to her side, resting her head on my chest.
I pull in a lungful of air when she grips my T-shirt.
“It did feel natural.” I release the burden of my own history. “But only because it is natural. You need to stop thinking like a human, because you aren’t. You’ve never been one.”
“And it’s just that easy, a flip of a switch?” Her finger glides over the fabric covering my stomach.
“No, it’s not that easy, but the quicker you do, the simpler your life will be.” I shake my head, afraid I’m not explaining myself well enough for her to understand. “I had to kill a man I’ve known my entire life.”
“But why?”
“Who do you love most in this world?” I ask, hoping this will help her understand my own choices, and maybe when the time comes, she’ll be able to see it in her own.
Lennox sits up, and immediately, I miss her touch. Her absence drives a hole right in the middle of my chest.
Her eyes soften. “Sarah Beth, my baby sister.”
“Imagine a world where something or someone was trying to hurt her, putting her life in danger. What would you do?” I ask, already knowing the answer.