by Pati Nagle
OK, I wouldn’t think things like that. Shouldn’t remind him of my mortality. Or remind me, for that matter.
There was pain out ahead. Inevitable pain. Far away right now, but it would arrive someday.
Len came in from the kitchen, carrying her cell phone. She sat between me and the end of the couch near Caeran, unceremoniously pushing me aside. I shifted closer to Lomen.
“You wanted to compare class schedules,” she said to me.
“Oh. Right.”
Took me a minute to remember why. My head was so not in the space of Ebonwatch’s project.
I got out my phone and pulled up my schedule. Amanda and Lomen did the same.
We compared schedules and found no crossover with Amanda, who was taking business classes plus one humanities course (French lit, bleh). Len and I were both heavy on science, though her emphasis was pre-med. Lomen had two classes in common with Len. Mine were all over the map, since I had been trying to figure out which direction to go.
“OK, I don’t need the pharma,” I said. “I could maybe drop chemistry.”
“Won’t we need pharma to look for treatments?” Len asked.
“Not until later, if at all. But you’re right, I’ll keep it. Maybe add microbiology and drop the physics major.”
I stifled a sigh. I liked physics, but it probably wouldn’t be needed for the project. I’d definitely be quitting my job, then. Professor Warner would not be pleased.
I surfed to UNM’s website and pulled up the course catalog. While I was looking up biomedical, I heard an engine pull up outside and shut off.
Caeran looked up. “Savhoran.”
“Alone?” Len asked.
“No.”
The room was suddenly tense. I shielded again, as if that would protect me.
The door opened and Savhoran came in, rain dripping from his black leathers. He had a motorcycle helmet in one hand, and held the door open for his companion.
My gut clenched as I saw the white hair, soaked with rain, and the coal-black eyes. Campus killer. I’d only glimpsed Amanda’s attacker and she’d been female, but this guy rang the same bell.
It was more than just appearance. He felt deadly.
= 6 =
“Pirian,” Caeran said, standing. “Thank you for coming.”
This was Pirian, the other half of Ebonwatch? A virtuous vampire?
He didn’t look virtuous. He looked scary as hell. My hindbrain was screaming at me to flee.
Len got up. “Something hot to drink? There’s coffee and tea.”
Savhoran smiled at her and set his helmet on a rug by the door. “Tea would be welcome, thank you.”
“There’s some salad, too, if you’d like.”
Savhoran shook his head, unzipping his leather jacket. Len turned to Pirian, who gazed flatly back at her. She went into the kitchen.
Caeran hung up Savhoran’s jacket and the long, black coat that Pirian peeled off. Underneath he wore a loose cotton shirt and what looked like suede pants. He was slim, almost gaunt. If he were human I’d have suspected bulimia.
He glanced at me and I couldn’t help looking away. I focused on my phone, trying to remember my place in the maze of course descriptions.
Savhoran joined Amanda, sitting on the arm of her chair. Caeran pulled a chair from the dining nook and placed it on the other side of Amanda’s chair for the alben.
Not an alben, I told myself, but in his presence it sounded like a philosophical distinction and possibly wishful thinking. This guy drank human blood to stay alive. I felt extremely rabbit-like.
“Savhoran has told you of our concerns?” Caeran asked.
I didn’t look, but got the impression that Pirian nodded. “I can tell you that at least one of them came from the east, traveling by car.” His voice was low and a bit gravelly.
“How do you know?” Caran asked.
“I felt their khi. I often watch the traffic in the canyon.”
I wondered why. Shopping for dinner?
He meant Tijeras Canyon, the pass through the mountains that I-40 ran through east of Albuquerque.
“When was this?” Caeran said.
Pirian hesitated. I glanced sidelong at him. He was staring at the ceiling, thinking.
“Three nights ago.”
“Then they began to hunt right away,” said Lomen. “Two killings in two nights.”
Len brought out a tray with a bunch of mugs and a teapot, and set it on the coffee table. She poured a mug and handed it to Savhoran. “Anyone else want tea?”
Caeran was already pouring for himself. No one else spoke. Len went back in the kitchen. I thought wistfully about joining her there, then did a fresh white-light shield.
“If they came from the east into the city, they might have camped in the bosque,” Lomen said.
“They might not be together,” Caeran said.
“True, but the bosque is still a good place to begin the search,” said Savhoran, who’d been pretty silent. “There are a limited number of bridges crossing the river. If they passed over one, we might find traces of their khi.”
“Kanna camped in the bosque,” Lomen added.
“Briefly,” Caeran said.
Len returned with another tray, this time bearing a coffee pot, sugar, cream, and some spoons. She started pouring and handing around the coffee.
I was stuffed, but it smelled good, and the mug warmed my hands while I sipped. It was beautiful: hand-made pottery, glazed in a soft, pale green and lighter weight than it looked, similar to the dishes we’d eaten from.
“It is natural for our kind to be drawn to a forest,” Lomen said. “I propose we begin searching there.”
Savhoran gave a nod, then looked at Pirian. Everyone else looked at him too.
Pirian shrugged one shoulder. “As you wish.”
“You disagree?” Caeran asked.
Pirian’s gaze shifted to him. “I think it likely to be a waste of time. They have fed; they have probably already found shelter. They will rest for a few days.”
Len brought another chair from the dining nook and set it next to Caeran’s. She sat and picked up her coffee mug.
“Where did you shelter when you first came here?” Caeran asked Pirian.
“I didn’t stop here. I continued north.”
Amanda shifted in her chair. Savhoran put a hand on her thigh.
“And now?” Caeran’s voice was quiet, but I thought I heard a hint of challenge.
Pirian’s eyes narrowed. “I prefer the mountains to the bottomland.”
Caeran nodded and sipped his tea.
“If we are to search, we had best begin,” said Savhoran. He drained his mug and set it on the coffee table. “Thank you for the tea, Len.”
She smiled. “Any time.”
Savhoran stood. Amanda handed him her car keys. He squeezed Amanda’s hand, then went to the door and picked up his helmet.
Caeran followed and fetched coats. Pirian stood, leisurely, and turned his head to look straight at me.
So Caeran and his friends have a new pet.
I flinched, unable to help physically recoiling from the unpleasant contact. His soul did not feel beautiful. There was definitely something wrong.
He dropped the contact, much to my relief. I sat frozen, watching him put on his coat, which still looked wet. He didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he didn’t care.
Steven?
I almost cried out with relief. I flung myself into Lomen’s mental embrace.
What happened?
He spoke to me.
Lomen glared at Pirian. What did he say?
Nothing important. An insult.
Lomen stood, and for a moment I feared he’d start a fight. Caeran was helping Savhoran into his coat.
“Success to you,” Caeran said.
Savhoran smiled as he and Pirian went out, and I couldn’t help wondering if he would become like Pirian. He seemed nice enough, now, and Amanda liked him. What would the disease do to him, lo
ng-term?
Don’t let Pirian bother you. You probably won’t see much of him.
OK.
I didn’t want to argue; not then. Lomen was leaving, going out with them. I had a hard time thinking about him in Pirian’s company. I hoped he wouldn’t do anything rash. I shielded again, then looked at him.
Be careful.
He smiled. Don’t worry. I know better than to respond to Pirian’s taunts. He is angry at his fate.
He felt wrong. He felt bad.
It’s the curse.
Lomen went to the closet and pulled out a heavy suede coat, slung it over his shoulders, and went out. Caeran gently closed the front door behind him, then returned to his chair.
Awkward silence. I glanced down at my phone, still in my hands. It had gone dark.
“There’s dessert,” Caeran said.
My throat tightened. I shook my head and stood. “Will you guys excuse me? I’ve got homework.”
Silence followed me down the hall, along with the feeling that they’d be discussing me the minute I closed the door of Lomen’s room. I didn’t care. I needed to be alone.
I sat on the bed and poked my phone to wake it up, stared at it until I realized I wasn’t registering the words. Set it aside and rubbed my eyes.
What was I doing here?
I felt exhausted, terrified, confused.
Hopeful.
I lay back and threw an arm over my eyes. Thought over the past couple of days, everything that had happened.
It had started with finding a body.
No. It had started when I texted Amanda. That message had set all this in motion.
And when I sent the text I’d wondered—hoped—it would lead to my seeing Lomen.
So face it, he was the reason I was here. Was he worth it?
Oh, hell yes.
We were just at the start of something. I was thrilled, and terrified that I would screw it up. And be alone again.
I took a deep breath and sat up. Realized I hadn’t turned the light on when I came in, but a soft glow warmed the room from the candle on the nightstand. Lomen must have lit it.
I looked around the room again, this time taking in small details. The walls weren’t white, but a pale green, maybe sage. The candle cast a golden tint on it.
Opposite the bed stood a matching bookcase and dresser, hand-carved from pine. The bookcase held textbooks, a few small nicknacks, and two very old, leather-bound books. Their titles had once been gilded but were now so worn they were almost illegible. I didn’t want to turn on the light to try to make them out, and I was afraid to handle the books in case they were fragile.
I looked at the nicknacks. There was a brass compass no bigger than a half-dollar. It looked very old, so I didn’t touch it. Next to it was a metal cup decorated with grape vines, and behind that was a small portrait in a silver frame.
I carefully picked up the picture and carried it to the candle. It was a painting of a woman. An ælven; the shape of her eyes—green—and the expression on her face made me sure of it. She was dressed like something out of Shakespeare, a lot of pearls sewn onto her sleeves and a hat hiding her hair. She seemed wryly amused.
The frame looked old, now that I had it in the light. It was slightly tarnished but well cared for. There was a nick on the right side, result of some misadventure.
Had she been Lomen’s lover?
I swallowed, trying to clamp a lid on the anxiety this thought raised. No sense in being jealous of her. Was she even still alive?
I put the portrait back in the shelf and went to the little desk, intending to follow through on my homework. The desk looked like the same handiwork as the bookcase and dresser, and come to think of it, the style was familiar. I’d seen something else made by the same artist. The sideboard in the dining nook?
Focus. Homework.
What day was it?
Took me a minute to remember. It was Thursday.
So, Friday. Two classes: Computational Physics and the Physics 102 class I was student-assisting. I’d be dropping them both.
I looked up the course catalog again, searching through the upper-level classes. Molecular Biology caught my eye. The biomedical track led straight into genomics, and that sounded exciting to me—right on target for the Ebonwatch project. So I’d drop both the physics class and the student-assisting job, then add Molecular Biology and the corequisite Genetics.
I hadn’t put this much intense thought into my college education before, not even when I first enrolled. Despite Len’s assurances that we had time, I felt an underlying urgency to get as much of the necessary science under my belt as soon as possible.
My brain was fried. I put away the laptop, got out my bag of bathroom stuff and got ready for bed. The bathroom was across the hall from Lomen’s room. Someone had cleared a shelf in the medicine cabinet, so I put my toothbrush and all there, wondering how long this would be my home.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. I glanced westward. Lomen was out there somewhere, driving around in the rain. If they were searching the bosque they’d have to get out of the car. I wouldn’t want to be there in a storm—those old cottonwoods dropped limbs when it got windy.
I ran through the white-light shield, then on impulse I pictured Lomen with white light around him. Figured he could use all the protection he could get.
I went back across the hall, blew out the candle, and got into bed. The sheets were the softest I’d ever felt, and the pillow smelled like Lomen.
My loins immediately started to ache, and after taking the precaution of shielding I allowed myself to remember our encounter earlier in the day. Probably stupid to think about it, because it made me horny as hell, but I couldn’t help myself. I was ready for more, ready to give Lomen as much of a thrill as he’d given me, or at least to try.
I fell asleep thinking about him, and dreamed of sex. Some of it was weird vampire sex, which was disturbing.
I woke up alone.
At first I didn’t remember where I was. I looked around for a clock, but there wasn’t one.
I had classes. Tempting to skip them, since I’d be dropping them anyway, but I didn’t want to be rude to the Prof.
I dragged my ass out of bed, saw my bag on the dresser where I’d left it. Went to get out some clothes and found a note on top of the dresser.
Steven -
Your face in sleep is like a child’s – very beautiful. I did not wish to wake you.
I will meet you on campus midday, at the pond unless I hear otherwise from you. I have put my number into your phone.
Lomen
Ridiculous, how relieved I was by that note. I pulled on my jeans, then folded the note and shoved it deep in my pocket. Didn’t want any chance of it slipping out.
I found some more clothes and stumbled to the bathroom. Smelled coffee in the hallway, which made my stomach growl. Got myself presentable and went to the kitchen.
No one there, but the coffee pot was on the warmer and breakfast was lined up on the counter: granola, bowls, spoons, a pottery pitcher of cold milk, and a bowl of sliced fresh peaches. I helped myself, grabbed one of my yogurts from the fridge, and went out the back door.
The garden smelled rain-washed, cool and wet, but the sun was shining and it would soon be hot. Amanda was sitting under the pergola, nursing a mug of coffee.
“Morning,” she said.
I nodded to her, dragged a side table in front of a chair, and didn’t say anything until I’d eaten half my breakfast.
“Where are Len and Caeran?” I asked as I opened the yogurt.
“He drove her to class. He’ll be back.”
The coffee pot clock had said 7:45. “I have to be on campus at nine.”
“Me too,” Amanda said. “I’ll drive you.”
“Did they find anything?”
“Don’t know, but we probably would have heard if they had.”
I leaned back to look at the garden. The pergola’s ornate carved columns caught my eye—that
’s where I’d seen the carving before. Whoever had done these had also made the furniture in Lomen’s room.
“Who carved these?” I asked, gesturing with my spoon.
Amanda glanced at a column, then smiled. “Madóran.”
“Multitalented guy.”
“Oh, yes. Wait ’til you see his place—he built it himself.”
“He lives up north, right?”
“Mm-hm. Guadalupita.”
I’d never heard of it. Probably one of those tiny towns where the post office was in the general store.
I finished eating and took my dishes back to the kitchen, topping off my coffee before heading to my room to collect my pack.
My room. I’d settled into that fast.
Amanda was waiting for me in the living room. We headed out to her car, which was parked at the curb. The gutter was full of yellow leaves that the storm had brought down.
“So you didn’t see Savhoran.”
She shook her head. “I tried to wait up for him, but I fell asleep. I usually do, but I still try.”
“Do you see him every day?”
“Every night, you mean?” She started the car and headed toward campus. “Not always, but most nights. In the winter when it’s dark by dinner time he tries to see me every evening. It’s harder in daylight savings time.”
“I was under the impression you two lived together.”
“Sort of. He’s at our apartment about half the time. The other half he finds someplace to hole up for the day. He spends a lot of time in the bosque.”
“So he would notice if some alben moved in.”
“Well, it’s a big forest. Since he got the bike he’s able to patrol the whole length of the city every night, pretty much, but that’s not a thorough search.”
“So he’s been patrolling there before now? Even when there weren’t any alben in town?”
She paused to get across a busy intersection. “He considers it his beat, I guess you could say. He likes making sure the bosque’s safe for everyone who uses it. He keeps tabs on the homeless who live there, too—and if one of them needs help, or accidentally sets a fire, he calls in a tip to the cops. He’s called in four bosque fires this year. He’s pretty proud of that.”