She had told him of how when she and Rowan were little girls playing in the basement, they had found an old trunk of Great Grandma Lorelai’s. In it they had found an old, leather bound, black book. Carefully carved into the cover by hand was a Celtic symbol of never ending, intertwined bands. Inside the book, they found their heritage. They had always been accused of being witches, but until finding this amazing family Book of Shadows, there had never been any proof of such a thing. The book had fascinated them with its old, crumbly pages of spells, charms, and potions, along with lists of herbs and their medicinal properties, and stones from the Earth with different healing powers, all packaged neatly in a beautiful book. Her entire family had contributed to it, their different handwritings adding information through the centuries. Darby’s fascination for this amazing, primitively bound book was the fuel that fed her dream to open a bookstore.
She had opened Cauldron, Book, and Candle several years before, with book titles varying from Wicca practices to aliens and everything in between. She carried old books and new books, but it was always the old books that intrigued her. She didn’t believe in everything that she sold, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that a person should be able to believe in whatever they want, without being criticized for it. The Internet helped a lot. Being such a specialized bookstore, she got requests from all over the world and that thrilled her. She could accommodate people everywhere with knowledge, and without prejudices. This was very personal to her, as she had descended from a long ancestry of witches. She and Rowan had had their share of insults thrown at them throughout their lives. Though it didn’t happen often, it still hurt like a knife cutting deep into her soul. However, the opening of the bookstore seemed to have helped the situation. At first, she felt like a leper peddling her disease, but slowly, curiosity overwhelmed the would-be patrons and they inquired within. The doors had been open now for several years and Darby felt closer to the community than ever, having friends she never thought she would.
Devon seemed riveted by her story and truly inspired by her community acceptance. She thought she had detected sadness behind his eyes, that maybe he too had wished to be accepted into a community as she had. It was amazing. Never had she felt so comfortable and connected with someone who, up until a few hours ago, was a complete and utter stranger. She didn’t want it to end, but Kyle was shouting it was last call. Where had the time gone? A wave of embarrassment flooded over her as she stood. She felt that she had dominated the conversation with this beautiful stranger and she wished she could have learned more about him and his seemingly interesting life.
“Well,” she said, ”I guess I should get going. I’ve really enjoyed this...you...getting to know you better.”
“Me too! Guess Rowan isn’t coming,” he said with a little chuckle.
“Guess not,” she smiled and rolled her eyes.
“In that case, may I have the privilege of escorting you home? I wouldn’t want to let you go home by yourself this late at night,” he said this with a chivalrous air.
“I only live a few blocks from here, as you very well know. What do you think is going to happen? A vampire is going to grab me out of the shadows and whisk me away to his lair?” she smirked with one hand on her hip and one eyebrow cocked.
He went white as a ghost. His mouth was slightly open as if he was searching for a quick response.
“Dear Lord, Devon, I’m joking. Besides, I’m sure that even if there was a vampire out there lurking, he could be a very nice guy, maybe even wanting to borrow a cup of Wolf’s bane,” she quickly said.
With that he relaxed and the smile that came over his face lit up his entire being. His eyes sparkled.
She continued, “And as for escorting me home, well, I suppose you are going in the same direction and I would like the company, so yes, I accept your offer, dear knight.”
He beamed, took her tiny, fragile hand in his, protectively set it in the crook of his arm, and led her towards the door. Over her shoulder she yelled to Kyle, waving, “Good night. Don’t forget to tell Jenn I said hi!”
“I will...night, Darby. Devon,” Kyle replied.
Devon waved at Kyle in response and said, “Night.”
As they walked out the door, the fresh air felt nice on her arms and face. She hadn’t realized how stuffy it was in the bar or how warm she had gotten. They headed for the house and he said, “So tell me about the history of Oljone.”
“Well, that’s a bit of a story, but if you insist. Oljone was the name of the native tribe of Indians that originally lived in the area, Ohlone or Coastoans. The local missions recorded their presence and named them Oljone for a Spanish ranch that was in the area. There have been settlers here as early as the late 1700s. The Ohlones didn’t fair well with the new diseases brought in by the settlers, and their numbers dwindled quickly. The little town had its run-ins with the Spanish in the area, the gold rush, and just the hard life of the Wild West. They had to deal with grizzlies, mountain lions, and assorted other maladies. Oljone has also had its share of outlaws, including the Younger brothers, Cole, Jim, and Bob, who ran with Jesse James’ gang. They hid from the law here for a while.
“This area, too, is right between two fault lines, San Gregorio and San Andreas. As you probably know, on April 18, 1906, the San Andreas fault line shifted by as much as 15 feet horizontally in some places. Needless to say, Oljone took a tremendous jolt and a massive landslide, but not like the devastation felt in San Francisco.”
As they turned on to their street, she looked up at him and asked, “Did you enjoy your history lesson?”
He smiled. “I did. Very much so.”
Their two houses came into view, and she saw Harry had claimed Devon’s front porch. He lay sleeping on the railing with all four paws, not to mention a little belly, dangling in mid-air over the edges. He was sleeping, eyes slammed shut, with his head hanging over the edge.
Darby turned to Devon with an eyebrow cocked and said, ”I’m afraid I have some bad news, Devon!”
With an expression of shock, he turned to face her, pursing his lips. “What?” he said frantically.
“Seems my cat, Harry, has claimed your front porch as his. This means that nothing of yours is sacred anymore,” she said as she pointed towards Harry on the porch.
Now Devon looked confused and his brows furrowed in worry. She continued, “You see, Harry is a cat burglar - literally. He steals things from all over the neighborhood. I’ve found belts, neckties, handkerchiefs, an earring, a feather boa, cat toys that were not purchased by me, and the crème de la crème - an old, crusty sock. He leaves these little jewels on the foot of my bed or near his kitty dish. So if you lose something, you might want to come over and check Harry’s stash. I keep them all in a basket near the fire place, so that he can gloat over them.”
Devon started to laugh. “You’re kidding, right?” But with a stern face and lips pressed together in a thin line, Darby shook her head.
As Devon continued to laugh, Harry raised his head and opened his bright yellow eyes. When he recognized Darby’s voice, he jumped down from the rail with a thunderous ker-thump, and started to run towards them, rubbing against anything he could find on the way. When Harry was about two feet away from them, he plopped down on his side, purring loudly and kneading the grass. Apparently, they were supposed to come to him the rest of the way and give him some pets. Devon and Darby closed the gap and both squatted down to appease the very large, purring cat. As they did so, he squeaked out a high-pitched meow. This startled Devon and he looked at Darby quizzically.
“What? Didn’t expect such a tiny little voice on such a...ummm...manly-sized cat?” Darby said, bringing her hand to her face to shield Harry from seeing her mouth the word fat.
Devon laughed at that and continued to scratch under the cat’s chin, which Harry seemed to enjoy a lot. He brought his other hand around and picked up the cat. With a look of surprise as he hefted the cat to his shoulder, Devon groaned and said, “Y
ou weren’t kidding, he’s very...”
Her eyes widened in faux-panic, so he said, “Ummm, he’s very, very masculine.”
With a sigh of relief, Darby laughed along with Devon. After a few minutes, Devon set the cat down on the ground very carefully, stood up, and turned to Darby.
The awkward moment had arrived. Why does there always have to be an awkward moment at the end of a date? But, this wasn’t a date; it was a chance meeting so there shouldn’t be any awkwardness, she argued with herself.
He smiled again as if hearing her argument. Harry was now doing figure eights in and out of Darby’s and Devon’s legs. He was purring like a freight train now.
To break the silence, she said, “Well this is me,” and pointed to her porch.
He smiled in confirmation, gently grabbed both of her hands, pulled them up to his mouth, and softly kissed each one.
“Thank you for this enchanted evening. I can’t think of when I’ve had a more pleasant time. Maybe...,” and then he faltered and the words hung on his lips as if he were not sure if he should continue.
Darby smiled. “Maybe we could do it again soon?” she asked.
He smiled with great appreciation and replied, “Yes, yes. Would tomorrow evening be too soon?”
With a smug smirk, she looked at him out of the corner of her eye and said, “Well, I don’t know. I’ll have to check my busy schedule.” He appeared horribly disappointed.
She jabbed his shoulder softly and smiled. “I’m joking, of course tomorrow is not too soon.” She didn’t say it out loud, but thought, I wish this didn’t have to end tonight. You goof!
Instead she said, “In fact, would you do me the honor of having dinner with me tomorrow night at 7:00? Here? At my place? Nothing fancy – I’m not a very good cook, but we can order pizza. You could bring the beer and...ummm, well I could get a movie, or we could just talk, play a game or something?”
He seemed disappointed or was it embarrassment? She couldn’t tell. He looked at her with his gorgeous brown eyes and said, “Shouldn’t it be me that should be asking? After all, the honor is all mine. Someone as beautiful and intelligent as yourself should have men swooning over you, filling your dance card and calendar with frivolities.”
She shook her head in disbelief, eyebrows raised, and laughed saying, “Again, what century are you from? Do you want to come over for dinner or not?”
At first he seemed shocked at her statement, but as if starting to understand her sense of humor, he chuckled and said, “You know I do, I’ll be there at 7:00.” And then he added, “with beer.”
She smiled, turned away from him, and started to unlock the door, but over her shoulder she said, “Great. Then it’s a date.” Oops, she thought, I shouldn’t have said that. Maybe he doesn’t consider it a date; Oh My God, what an imbecile you are, Darby.
Something in the way he held his shoulders as he was walking to his porch stairs said he was laughing to himself, and as if he was again reading her thoughts, he assured her with, “It’s a date.”
A huge smile came over her face as she called Harry to come in for the evening. She made one last glance towards the handsome man next door, only to find him smiling, getting one last glimpse of her. For the second time that day she found herself back against her closed door and sighing with relief, but this time with anticipation.
She locked the door, turned off the lights, picked up Harry, and walked back to her bedroom, thinking about the evening she just had, this chance meeting with a neighbor, no less. She lay back on the bed with the still purring monster clutched to her chest. She smiled, thinking of the gentle, timeless man who had just touched her soul like no one ever had. How could one encounter be so life changing? she thought. This man I met hours ago has got me swooning like a teenager with a horrendous crush. Don’t go crazy, Darby. The man is too perfect. He must have something wrong with him.
But as hard as she thought, she couldn’t think of one thing he may or may not have that would deter her wanting to wrap her entire world around him.
The purring Harry monster was vibrating on her chest and happy, and beautiful thoughts slowly meandered though Darby’s mind, lulling her into a deep and peaceful sleep.
Chapter 2
Darby woke to find Harry standing on her chest and meowing his squeaky high-pitched meow. It was hard to breathe with all that...ummm, male furriness standing on her. She pushed him to one side and he jumped to the ground with a thunderous ker-thump. He obviously had assumed that pushing him off her meant she was going to get up and feed him. When that didn’t happen, after about one hundred and eighty seconds, he was back on the bed and threatening to get on her chest again.
“Gee whiz, Harry! It’s Saturday. Can’t I sleep in just a couple of minutes on the weekend?” The insistent meowing told her his answer – Not in my world, sister. Seeing that she was indeed getting out of bed, he triumphantly jumped down, tail raised high, and waited by the door – just in case she changed her mind.
Darby got up slowly and headed for the bathroom. Just to make sure that she didn’t forget about him, Harry endorsed his presence with a couple more high-pitched meows and pushed the door open.
Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she said, “Geez, can’t a girl have some privacy?” As if answering her, he meowed. No, and on that point, it ain’t nothing I haven’t seen before.
She shook her head with disbelief, washed her hands, and headed to the kitchen to feed the hairy monster.
Now that Harry was happy for the moment, she made the coffee and headed for the front door to get the paper.
Unlike her sister, she had taken on this morning ritual from her father. The man was adamant about having his coffee and paper before he could cope with the new day.
She could see that it was overcast, as usual for this time of year, so close to the coast. Often the fog here would not retreat until noon or one o’clock, but it made for lovely, cool mornings. She opened the door and there on the welcome mat was a single lavender rose with a tiny card attached to it with a yellow silk ribbon. She bent down and picked up the flower, looking both ways out the door as if the person who left it there had only just done so and might be lurking in the bushes.
She carefully untied the pretty yellow ribbon, and there written in beautiful calligraphy was:
Darby,
I look forward to our tryst this evening. Until then, please accept this rose as a token of my adoration.
Devon
A tryst? What the heck is that? Oh man, does that mean it isn’t a date – I mean lavender is for friends or sympathy, right? I knew he was too good to be true; he’s already sending me sympathy flowers so he can break it off with me in his oh, so gallant manner. But he did call it a date last night, didn’t he?
Her mind was racing a hundred miles a minute. She went back in the house, focused on finding a dictionary when she realized she had totally forgotten to get the paper, which was still at the bottom of the porch stairs. She shook her head and went back to the door and opened it.
She looked both ways in hopes that no one had seen that she had flipped out just a second earlier. She ran down the stairs, grabbed the paper, and ran in the house, still looking over her shoulder for the lurking phantom delivery gnomes – like garden gnomes, but sneakier.
Safe inside the house, she dropped the paper on the couch along with the eloquent note and set off searching the bookcase for the dictionary. Finally! There you are, she said to herself as she grabbed the huge book and threw it, too, on the couch. She shuffled off to the kitchen to get that cup of coffee and saw Harry cleaning his face and looking quite satisfied with himself.
Shuffling back to the living room in her bunny slippers, she sat down, put her coffee on the coffee table, and looked at the beautiful writing on the card again. She set it down on the coffee table very gently as if it were a piece of fragile glass that might chip if she set it down too roughly.
She grabbed the heavy dictionary and started to hunt down the
T’s. TE, TO, TR, Tryst, Ah, here it is. Part of Speech: Noun. Definition: (here we go) Meeting during a love affair. Synonyms: appointment, date, assignation, engagement, meet, meeting, rendezvous, union. Wait…. Go back. Definition: Meeting during a love affair. Oh my God, that’s got to be the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen, she thought to herself. Hmm, since I was wrong about “tryst,” let’s look up flower color meaning on the computer.
She grabbed the laptop that was sitting on the coffee table and Googled the words: lavender rose meaning. And there it was in black and white – Lavender roses: means love at first sight. The onset of yet another swoon came over her. Dear Lord, this man gets better and better with every passing second.
She grabbed her coffee and melted back into the cushions of the couch and sighed in pure delight. She never even touched the paper that very special Saturday morning.
The rest of the day was a blur of cleaning the house, fluffing pillows, adoring the lovely note, which was now on the fridge attached with a Scooby-Doo magnet. The tiny yellow silk ribbon was lovingly tied back on to the card.
The rose was put in her grandmother’s heirloom bud vase and was set on the coffee table for all to see. Then it was off to the store for toilet paper, napkins, kitty food, kitty litter, sodas, and munchies.
There was a quick stop at the bookstore to see how things were going there and check for messages. There was a message from Rowan, of course, apologizing profusely about not showing up the night before and going on about an amazing guy she met. Oh Boy! Darby thought skeptically.
Next stop, the video store to rent whatever the hot new movie of the week was. Finally, all of her running around was done and she headed back to the house. She noticed that in her new neighbor’s driveway was a very sweet brand-new Audi R8, black and sleek and sexy – cha-ching – but Dang, if it wasn’t a beautiful beast, she thought to herself. She turned to her little pride and joy of a car – A 2001 electric blue Honda Prelude. Okay, so there is no comparison but it was the last year that Honda made a Prelude, she thought proudly.
Blood of a Werewolf Page 2