Love is Fear

by Caroline Hanson

  She screamed for him and the water poured inside of her, choked her and squeezed her lungs in a vice. The water wanted inside of her, aching to take her too. Val breathed in deep, felt her lungs explode in a death so heavy it felt like grief.

  The grim reaper called her name. He’d taken Lucas from her, and now he called her too. He hit her in the chest, slammed her down and yelled at her over and over again until she did what he wanted, threw up again, then opened her eyes to the blinding light of day.

  Jack’s voice was loud and above her, his hands on her chest, forcing life inside her as he yelled at her to breathe and called her back to life. Not the grim reaper after all.

  Quickly, amid shouts and the rocking of the boat, people stripped her, taking off her wetsuit and snorkeling mask. Strands of her hair were ripped out with the mask, sharp little pains that were totally subsumed by the larger shock and despair that wracked her body.

  Someone was chanting, saying something over and over again, but Val didn't know what they said or why. She wished they’d shut up. They were so loud and insistent.

  Jack wrapped her in a towel, and the boat shuddered to life as the captain turned the engine on. People sat down, the boat excursion over, now that a stupid tourist had almost drowned. Jack was sitting on the floor of the boat across from her, leaning against a seat, his head in his hands, shoulders hunched in against himself. She’d never seen that look on his face before.

  No. She’d seen it once. When he was twelve years old, sitting next to his mother’s dead body. He’d looked just like this. Tears ran down his face and she wanted to tell him not to cry, because she was alright and wouldn’t die on him.

  And that was when she realized she was already talking. She’d been talking since the moment she started breathing again. She was the person who wouldn’t shut up. Lucas, Lucas, she said over and over again as Jack sat there, a look of fear and horror on his face.

  Chapter 8

  They came back to the room and waited for the hotel doctor to check Val out. He said she was fine. The seawater was out of her system and the best thing to do now was rest. I can do that, she thought, already half asleep.

  Jack sat beside her, his hand clasping hers as though afraid she'd disappear the moment he let go. When she awoke he was gone. On his side of the bed there was a note. And yeah, it was super weird just thinking that he had a ‘side of the bed. ’

  The note said he was in the bar. I don’t blame him. I want to be in the bar.

  Val sat up, remembering the look on his face when she kept calling out for Lucas. Shit, we are going to have another fucking conversation. And she had to tell him about her dream/vision of Lucas drowning right along with her.

  Surely that was a dream.

  Her mind had tricked her, made her see him. But, it had seemed so real. So real and so awful. Seeing him again, even a pretend him…her body had responded. Not just simple attraction, but more than that. She'd felt like a lamp that had been plugged in. Unnatural brightness and connectivity. She'd bet money it had something to do with her being an Empath and drinking his blood.

  It was sunset and the sky was a hundred different shades of pink and orange. She’d been asleep for hours. And, even though it was wrong, she wanted to call Lucas. Just to make sure he was okay. Of course he’s okay. You can’t call him, it’s like an alcoholic taking a shot of Nyquil to prevent a cold.

  She looked out at the ocean, and absently watched the curtains billowing into her room from the breeze. They undulated, rippling into her room and back out again several times—Then they stopped. The sheers caught on a form, the indentation of a person standing on the balcony.

  Val leaped out of bed and ran to the balcony, pulling back the sheers and almost running into a pair of crimson lips.

  Oh shit. Rachel.

  Her skin was like porcelain, her dark brown hair pushed behind her ears. It was short and thick. She looked different than usual. Softer. More feminine. Less murderous.

  She wore black linen pants and a pink, silk camisole-top that showed her pale arms. Incongruously, she wore flip-flops with a pretty gold bow on them. Her toes were painted the same color red as her lips and she looked like she'd just come from a pedicure.

  She looks better dead than I do alive. Bummer.

  “Valerie, Lucas sent me to check on you. Don't run, it'll just make me hungry. And Lucas would kill me if something happened to you. Come have a chat. I brought you a present.” She gave Valerie a pretty smile.

  Val went to the bed first, reaching under her pillow for her stake. Lifestyle hazard. They hadn’t brought guns to Hawaii, what with not wanting to be arrested and all. Plus they hadn’t thought they would need them. Hopefully, that was still true.

  Val went outside, making sure the stake was in plain sight. Rachel was sitting in a chair, legs crossed. A manila folder rested on her lap. Rachel looked at her carefully. From head to toe, then back again. It wasn't sexual, or even predatory, but studious.

  “What, is he going to quiz you?” Val asked.

  Val thought Rachel smiled for a moment, but it was fleeting. “He will want to know everything,” she said dramatically. “Look at you, a simple human snaring the Big Bad. Well, almost human, hmm?”

  “He told you?” Val asked, shocked.

  “Oh, yes. Only me, though. It’s not something he wants to get out.”

  “You stabbed me and almost killed me. You almost killed him, too! Why would he tell you anything?” Val said, incredulous.

  Rachel looked unimpressed, stuck her leg out and looked at her toes, no doubt examining her recent polish job. “I'm one of Lucas' favorites. Well, probably the only favorite. He's really gone off vampires, in the last, what, three, four hundred years? But that's just what I hear. I'm only around a hundred, so just about everything I know is history or rumor.”

  “Around a hundred?”

  “Yeah. I’m 106, but when vampires talk time they usually round to the nearest century.”

  That was bizarre. “You cannot be his favorite,” she said indignantly.

  Rachel actually laughed. “Oh ho! Look at you thinking you know so much about him.”

  Valerie gave her an are-you-fucking-crazy-look. Although, she was Marion’s girlfriend, so maybe she was crazy. “He turned your girlfriend into a dried-out mummy and put her in a box before torturing you.”

  “Yes. And he also made me super-powerful and sent me to check up on his sweetie.”

  Val ran her hands through her hair. It was brittle and knotted with salt from the ocean. And she suspected it looked like the sort of tangle a small rodent would like to vacation in.

  Oh man, she was so weak, and yet, she had to ask, “Why didn’t he come himself?”

  Rachel laughed— again. The sound so sincere and loud that a few birds dashed away from the palm tree next to her room. Isn’t she just the perkiest person.

  “Seriously? You’re on some faux-honeymoon after telling him to go fuck himself and you wanted him to come after you? You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”

  Val slumped down into a chair. “Am I a terrible person?” she asked, not really expecting an answer.

  “I’m a vampire. I kill people. In my book you’re fucking Mary Poppins with a slightly mischievous boy-craziness thing happening.”

  Was that supposed to make her feel better? Well, it doesn’t make me feel any worse.

  “Where is my present?” Val asked, changing the subject.

  “Ta da!” Rachel picked up the folder and held it towards Valerie. Cautiously, Valerie reached forward and took it.

  Rachel settled back in the chair, legs crossed demurely as she looked out at the ocean and waited for Valerie to do or say something. She seemed happy to be here, tilting her face up to the sky and closing her eyes.

  “So, how come you won the trip to Hawaii? And why are you not burned to pieces?”

  Rachel opened her eyes, her expression wary. “Too late. The sun set ten minutes ago. Oh, I almost forgot. Lucas wa
nts you to practice containing yourself. Now that you have his blood, you are all over the place. In his dreams and memories. Frankly, he looks exhausted. You need to cut the guy a break. You dump him then haunt him. It's just not nice.”

  She was outraged, “I'm not trying to! What do I do to stay away from him?”

  “I put a Post-It Note on that page. Some mental training stuff. Start tonight, see if you can get yourself separated from him sooner rather than later. He's not a guy you want to push, my tasty treat.”

  Valerie nodded, uncertain what to say or even how to feel about the fact that Lucas wanted her to stay out of his mind.

  “Wait. Is he coming into my mind too?”

  “Oooh. This is the question I wanted the answer too: did he drink from you? It's relevant so answer,” Rachel said, tucking her legs under and leaning forward eagerly.

  “No.”

  Rachel's eyebrows rose sky high and her cheeks hollowed out as she clucked her tongue in shock. “Not even a taste? Wow. That’s some serious restraint.”

  “He said he wanted to but was too old. He compared it to indigestion. Or maybe I did. What does that mean?”

  “Oh, look. There’s Jack.” Rachel said, with an odd note in her voice. Anticipation and something… dark, but Val couldn’t have said what. “You know, Marion swore that if she'd known how cute he'd be, she would have kept him. I always thought she said it just to piss me off. Now I'm not so sure.”

  Jack was a long ways away, coming up a cut rock path from the restaurant down the beach. Men in hotel uniforms were lighting tiki lights, while little kids were being hustled back to their rooms by sunburned parents.

  They both watched Jack walk for a moment, his tall, graceful form eating up the distance before him. Rachel shifted her chair, moving it into the shadows so that if he looked up he wouldn't see her.

  “So, before I leave here. Anything you want me to pass on?” Rachel asked.

  “Well, he's okay, right? I almost drowned and I thought he was there. It was like he died, too.” She imagined it again—him dead, floating away from her and she couldn’t help him. Couldn’t save him. She blinked tears from her eyes.

  Rachel worried her lip, a dainty, pearly white fang visible. “Look, Lucas is old. He disappears and kind of retreats. When you saw him last you were in his mind. Not with him physically. He's been gone a lot lately. Physically present, but mentally...hibernating? I don't know. It's kind of taboo. Everyone knows about it but doesn't really want to talk about it. I guess it's a bit worrying or something.”

  “Does it have a name? Is it a condition or illness?”

  Rachel shrugged, “We don't talk about it so how the hell can it have a name? Pay attention.”

  “People don't like to talk about death but it has a name,” Val said sharply.

  Rachel huffed and waved her hand around airily. “I guess the people you hang out with don't talk about it, but man death is all I talk about. My death, Marion's death, your death, Lucas' death. The Fey, the wolves...dead, dead, dead.”

  “What about the wolves and the Fey? Roanoke, when is he going?”

  Rachel stood and brushed at her pants absently, taking a long moment like she was deciding what she wanted to say. “I think he's going to wait a little longer for you.”

  Valerie shook her head emphatically, “No, I'm not helping him anymore. He knows that.”

  “Look, I could really go either way on you, but I'll do you a favor here, so listen up— you don't fuck with vampires. Don't think you are a step ahead of them. You will never outsmart them, nor will you survive them. You're a distraction, a means to an end, an object, maybe even a cherished one, but there is always an agenda. Lucas has big game afoot and he needs you to pull it off. He’s going to find a way to make sure you help him. See you soon. Get a tan for me.”

  And with a snap of her fingers, she was gone.

  Chapter 9

  Jack waited for the elevator, staring fixedly at the orange light on the up button. What the hell was he going to do about Val? She'd almost died. And then she’d called for Lucas like that fucker was oxygen. As though Lucas was her entire world. Would she die for him?

  He remembered. Waiting in her hotel room for her to show up, the slow build-up of panic as he wondered where the hell she was. He’d seen Lucas before. Once. When his parents had died. He’d been there, at his parents’ hotel before Marion killed everyone.

  To see Lucas again, his body wrapped around Valerie protectively and...casually. As though he'd held her before and would do so again. The tension between them had been there. Heavy and hot.

  “Penny for your thoughts.” The words were sultry, right next to his ear, raising every hair on the back of his neck. He knew that voice. His heart kicked out a staccato rhythm. His hand fisted, like he was gripping a stake.

  “Why are you here, Rachel?” A rough growl, a threat of violence leaking out.

  The elevator chirped and opened, but he stood there frozen, waiting for her to respond. She sauntered past him, her arm brushing his as she went into the elevator, leaning against the brass rail as if she’d wait all night for him. She was like a cat: she appeared calm but if she'd had a tail it would be swishing.

  He met her gaze, warm and knowing. He felt it reach through him, like a hand around his shaft. The day would come and he’d kill her. On his life, he swore he’d kill her the moment he didn’t need her anymore.

  She was a monster but she would play nicely with him if he wanted her too.

  I don’t.

  Forcefully, he willed his body to relax, and followed her into the elevator. The doors shut behind them and she reached past him, pushing the stop button so the elevator wouldn't rise or open. It was just the two of them now, trapped in the enclosed space. He moved to the opposite side, putting distance between them.

  It made her smile, as if she was happy at the thought that he wanted to put space between them. As though he might not trust himself with her. This irritated him, but he didn't let it show. She could think whatever she wanted. He didn't need to stand close enough to be killed for no other reason than pride.

  “I’ve been sent on a humanitarian mission,” Rachel said.

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “You’re human… I’m here…a mission. Humanitarian. No? Not funny? Yeah, you’re right. It was stupid,” she said dismissively.

  He felt his jaw lock down tight, and was surprised his teeth didn’t break in half. She was always so casual with him. As if she didn’t think he could kill her. As if she doesn’t care.

  “I’m here to give Val some info. Lucas sent me to make sure she was alright.”

  Jack felt himself stand a little straighter, come to attention. “Why wouldn’t she be?” Did Lucas know Val had almost drowned? How?

  “Because she almost drowned when you two were snorkeling.”

  Fuck. “She called him?” Jack said.

  “No. If it makes it better she hasn’t talked to him, but if it makes it worse, she doesn’t need to. They have a telepathic connection. So he knew she was on the verge of death.”

  “Why? How?”

  She made a strange expression, almost like a grimace. “Blood. His. She drank a lot of it a while back.”

  Her words overwhelmed him, made him want to give up and just slink to the ground in defeat. How the fuck could he save her or help her when this was going on? Why hadn’t she told him?

  “What’s he want with her?” he croaked, trying to keep the pain and betrayal locked tight.

  “Why are you asking me? Go ask your girlfriend.”

  He bit back the automatic response—she’s not my girlfriend.

  Rachel gave a slow nod as she looked down at the ground, saying softly. “You can’t trust her? You can sleep with her but you know she’s lying to you. Letting you inside her body but not her heart.”

  “I have her heart,” he growled.

  “You have half her heart and none of her thoughts. You’re asking me instead of her.”
>
  Jack rushed her and she didn’t move out of the way or defend herself. It was the total opposite. She went limp so that as he reached her and pushed her back, her body was close to his, like they were dancing. Just for the barest moment.

  Her back hit the wall of the elevator and he crowded in close to her, fuelled by anger. So close. Even closer. He saw her eyes widen, didn’t flatter himself enough to think it was fear.

  “Because you’ll tell me. Why is that? Could you kill me? Do you want to? Tell me the truth!” He shook her like a rag-doll. “Look at me when you tell me,” he said savagely, dragging her closer, holding her tighter with each word.

  She struggled a little, voice breathy. “I could kill you. I could hurt you and I’d enjoy it.” She stopped struggling but her voice was ragged. “Don’t get distracted. You’ve got enough girl problems. Lucas wants to find the Fey and he needs Valerie to go with him.”

  “Why?” What could he do to make her answer him?

  For a moment, he thought he saw some expression cross her face, like sadness or regret, sorrow, then it was gone. A trick.

  “You need to talk to her,” Rachel said.

  “Fine,” he said, rapidly losing patience.

  “You want to know what’s going on with Lucas and Valerie, you need to see them together. You want Lucas dead, so do the Fey and the Werewolves—if they are alive. The vampires tried to kill Lucas to stop him from going after them.”

  “Why didn’t he kill you?”

  “Why does everyone assume Lucas will kill me? I am really charming.”

  Jack couldn’t help but laugh. “Sweetheart, I'll be damned if your charm is enough to keep you alive.”

  She pouted and took a step closer to him. He wanted to throw his hands out, keep her back. “I can be very charming. I can be sweet too,” she said, purring the words and it raised the hair on his arms. “Or cruel. Innocent. Damaged. All you have to do is tell me. Tell me what you want me to be and let's see if I can do it. Do you want to know what Marion liked me to be? Everything. I was her mother, her daughter, her lover, her keeper, her abuser. I should have won a fucking golden globe I was so good.”