by Aine Massie
“You didn’t answer your phone,” he said looking indignant. “I called Nicholas, and we met here, I wasn’t alone. But,” he pouted, “I am not as weak as you seem to think.”
“I,” I started to say, but Nicholas interrupted.
“Anya, don’t be too hard on him. He did call, that’s why we are all here. He was in no danger. I rode over with him.” He put his hand on my shoulder to turn me slightly. “Declán was safe, but where were you and who were you with? I smell three different scents.”
It took a while to explain everything, starting from the mall forward, but after the second time through they had, finally, exhausted all their questions.
“Anya, can we talk before I go home?” Declán asked quietly.
“Sure love, we can always talk. You know that.” I led him upstairs to my rooms. “Come, sit with me,” I said settling into a pile of cushions on the floor.
He sat, pulling me into his arms, with my head resting on his chest. Mmm, I do love the sound of his heart, his warmth and scent. “I’m worried about you, hun. Since that night at the club, you’ve been different, more edgy and aggressive. You spend less time with me, and what time we do have, you seem to be, I don’t know, more reserved – nervous almost. What really happened?”
“Declán, I’m sorry for worrying you, but do you understand that I killed someone with only my voice? I don’t like killing!”
“There’s more to it than that. I know better,” he pushed. He wasn’t going to let it go, obviously.
“Yes, there is more to it. What bothers me most is what I remember or rather the sensations. You cannot understand the pain; you would not survive it. I–I don’t want to think about what happened in that place. Please.”
“Anya, you’re shaking. I didn’t mean to upset you.” His arms tightened around me, pulling me dangerously close. So trusting.
“You did nothing wrong, no worries. I’m just not ready to deal with this maturely.” And definitely not with him around; too breakable. However, his warmth, the pulsing – “You shouldn’t hold me so close, a ghrá,” I sighed and began kissing him deeply. Showering his face, his neck, his chest with kisses, I felt the desire and cravings building dangerously. I couldn’t afford to lose control with him, but that is exactly what I wanted. Pulling away just enough to lean my forehead gently against his and again cup my hand on his face. “Grá mo chroí,” I whispered, “we need to be careful–”
He kissed the corner of my mouth gently, “I’m not afraid, love.” He then made his way along my jaw–line, kissing, down to my neck carefully caressing my hair as he did.
“But I am,” I murmured. I couldn’t seem to control my hands though. They moved of their own accord, unbuttoning his shirt, tracing the lines of his chest and abs as I gently continued kissing down his chest.
“Then you shouldn’t be so convincing . . .” With a groan, he gathered my wrists in his hands and slid me carefully away from him. “I should go, before things change forever.” He bent over, kissed my forehead, and sighed.
“Sorry.” I really didn’t want him to stop.
“No, never be sorry. I only want what you want; love is about respect, not just passions.” His eyes still smouldered, but his voice was firm. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he murmured, standing up and replacing his shirt. “I love you, always.”
“As I do you.” I watched him get into his car and drive away, frustrated more than ever.
“Don’t you ever go home, Nicholas,” I asked as he slid in behind me. “Or is it more fun to watch me be frustrated and weak?” I hated having these fears. Immortal, enduring, powerful, yet terrified of something as basic as love.
“I’m sorry, would you rather I leave?” Only the slightest hint of sadness tainted his voice.
“No, you know you’re always welcome. I just don’t understand why you have been lurking about so much as of late; you never did before.”
“I just worry about you, and–”
His voice faded around me as the strange flashes of light began again. Darkness surrounded me. As my eyes pierced the night, I could see an older woman lighting candles in what was the front room of a small house. All the clocks were stopped at the exact same time, six o’clock. A body, male and clean-shaven, was dressed in all white and laid out on a table. He was pale with reddish-blonde hair and appeared to be maybe twenty-five. All the mirrors were covered. The smells of smoke from the candles and the tobacco mixed with the smells of the food and spirits in the other room nearly overpowering my senses.
Staring at the young man lying there, fearful that my weeping might give me away as not human – the blood tears could be very noticeable, so I always used a dark coloured kerchief – I could hear the loud keening beginning around me.
“Braden!” someone wailed.
Suddenly I was on the floor – again. Nicholas was covering his ears, kneeling beside me with a look of sheer terror. Star was across the room in the same pose. It took me a minute to understand that I was the one making the painfully loud screeching sound. My face stuck in a mask of horror as I became silent.
Slowly, Nicholas and Star drew their hands away from their ears, but the look of fear did not subside. “Anya?” he began tentatively. “What, what was that? I’ve never heard such a sound of pain. Not from anyone, ever.”
“He – he’s dead. He’s so cold and empty. Too young. Too young.” I was shaking, curled up with my arms wrapped around my legs rocking gently.
Moving slowly, Nicholas moved over to me and gently lifted me off the floor. Keeping me in the cradle position, thankfully, he carried me to the couch. He sat fluidly, never releasing me or loosening his hold. Star followed and sat on the other side of us. The look of fear and confusion never let up as they both waited for me to collect myself and speak. I have no clue how long we sat like this, but the sky was lightening before I spoke.
Gently stroking my face from hairline to jaw Nicholas again tried to speak to me. “Anya, who is dead?”
Star took my hand as she added, “We don’t understand. What happened?”
“It was Braden’s wake,” I said, my voice breaking as I started to cry again.
“But,” Nicholas began, “who is Braden?” I could see the look pass between them; they worried I had lost my thin hold on reality.
“My husband.
“I’m sorry. Are you two going to be okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“We’re fine, love. What we are, is worried about you.” Nicholas said.
Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, “It was Braden’s wake. He was my husband, the human that Gabriel killed in front of me. I didn’t understand that the human he referred to wasn’t just a friend or companion but my . . . my husband.” I had to keep control, but I could feel the tears still streaming. Thankfully, here, blood tears would not cause fear.
Nicholas made a strangely sharp intake of air as he spoke, “Ah. I didn’t know his name. Sorry you had to remember that way.”
“You knew!” I shrieked without thinking.
He cowered under the thrall of my voice. “I knew the human had been bonded to you, the one Gabriel murdered. I didn’t know his name or that you were actually wed, you never told me that part. I’m sorry.” He barely spoke more than a whisper.
Breathing slowly and straining to regain control of myself, I took a few minutes before speaking again. “Do not fear me or my voice, please. The shock and desolation this brought me is just so . . . perverse. I feel . . . hollow. Does that make any sense?”
“Yes,” Star answered. “He was only some abstract idea before. We understand you’re hurting right now. What I don’t get is why this broke free now.”
“What exactly happened with you and Declán?” Nicholas quizzed. “Something to trigger a new memory?”
“Nothing that critical. We have kissed and all before and he was, as always, a gentleman about my fears about moving forward with him physically. He left as you saw. He’s supposed to come by this morn
ing. He’s going to drive to school for a change, with me as the passenger.” I laughed weakly.
“Oh no, what time is it? He cannot see me like this!” I jumped up, wiping frantically at my eyes. “I have class, and he’ll be here shortly. I have to pull it together, sorry.” I ran upstairs leaving them both staring and confused behind me.
Chapter Thirteen
I heard Declán pulling up outside. Calm, ‘you can do this Anya.’ Grabbing my bag, I headed out. Nicholas and Star had not left me alone the entire time.
“I’ll see you later, but I cannot let things like this control my life. Please, have faith in me.” I kissed them both on the cheek and headed to the truck.
Declán was at my door, to open it for me. “Good morning, Anya.”
“G’mornin’, Declán. Have the girls forgiven my behaviour from last night?” I did my best to sound upbeat and sane.
Smiling warmly, he replied, “Yes, they have. We talked a little after I got home last night. They understand you’re just having issues right now. I mean, between the memory thing, graduation, moving, and everything else, they were only worried about you.” He drove cautiously to school. It always seemed as if he had trouble focusing on the road when he drove.
As he pulled in and parked, he stopped and looked at me oddly. “Anya, dear, something else is wrong. What is it?”
“No worries right now. We can talk later, come. I see the girls.” We only shared last period, so I wouldn’t have to endure his curious looks or questions until then.
I wasn’t as lucky with Skye though. We shared first period and always walked to second together. Sure enough, her eyes showed how curious she was as we walked. “Better today?” she asked.
“Yes. I’m sorry about last night. We can go out later this week to finish our shopping and maybe even catch that movie.” Getting out would be nice, if we could just stop being interrupted all the time.
“Um, if you’re sure you feel up to it. But um . . . how did last night go? We know Declán went over and seemed to stay kinda late.” She dropped her voice to just a whisper, smirking slightly, “Liam dragged him into the den, and they talked for a really long time. Declán wouldn’t tell us what that was about though.”
“Wow, you really are nosey and seem to have only one thing on the brain. Are you always so inquisitive about the actions of your fake exes?” Is sex truly all teens think about or are the girls just obsessed because it is Declán? I mean, come on!
She giggled as she answered. “Just protecting poor Declán from the ravagings of Miss Anya,” she teased. “Besides, there is a slight ulterior motive.”
“And that would be?” Could she be a bit vaguer?
“I’m not ready to be an Auntie; I don’t think Kayla is either.” Her face had grown sombre as she spoke. She was concerned that we would be so irresponsible. Wow.
Thankfully, Mr. Dallas started class then. Children? Something that I could never offer Declán – no children, no grandchildren. I couldn’t even keep my first husband alive.
I couldn’t seem to shake my melancholy mood, no matter what. Skye seemed to notice and, mercifully, didn’t push as we walked to second period in relative silence.
The day passed slowly, me keeping to myself as much as possible. My other classes weren’t hard as most of the other humans weren’t comfortable with me like Declán, Skye, and Kayla always were. We met up at my locker as usual to walk together to ASL3, Declán took my hand in his but didn’t speak. Mmm, I love the feel of his hands, so soothing.
We had practice for our finals, so there was no time for questions in class either.
We rode in silence back to his house; I had to find a way out of this mood. As he pulled up, I finally spoke, “Declán, are your parents home or awake depending?”
“They should be out still; you know we usually have right after school parental-free. What’s up?”
“Well, I think we need to talk but not with adults around. Your parents like to snoop, which I understand but . . .” How do I explain this all to him?
“We’ll have to contend with the girls off and on. You know they’re trying to figure out if we have . . .” he trailed off suggestively.
“Ha, yes, I noticed that already.”
“Come on then,” he said, offering his hand as I got out of the truck. “Let’s go up to my room and talk. My door does have a lock,” he added with a conspiratorial wink.
“Now,” he began after shutting and locking his door. “What has you so sullen today? Did something happen after I left last night?”
We sat facing each other on his bed. Reaching out, I took his hand struggling with where to start. “Yes, something happened. But, part the problem is something Skye said this morning. I’m not sure where to start.” Which would hurt less to explain?
“Let’s work backwards then,” he said pulling me gently to his chest and holding me, wrapping his arms around me. “What happened with Skye? Human issues are likely easier to start with.”
Ha–ha, if only. “Okay, I think. Skye and Kayla have been fixating on our love life of sorts. More specifically, they are trying to figure out if we are being careful in our interactions. She said something about them not being ready to be,” – sigh – “Aunties.
“It isn’t that they are worried, I think it’s sweet in a way – the trying to protect you part that is. It just made part of what was already bothering me more acute in my mind.”
“Wait, so you are both upset and not upset that Skye and Kayla want to make sure we are being responsible, the fact we aren’t doing what they think notwithstanding. Yes?” He looked so lost, poor guy.
“Yes. I know that sounds twisted but let me try to explain. I appreciate that they care enough about us that they would be concerned for us, even if they do seem a little obsessed with the idea.” I paused, nervous.
“Then what's the problem.” He shifted so he could see my face, though not letting go completely.
Sighing hard, I tried to explain. “Declán, the reasons they are worried about our activity is, well, not a possibility. I can never have children.” I looked down, not entirely sure why, but I couldn’t meet his eyes. “You already know that, it’s just a matter of being reminded, especially in light of everything else. I couldn’t even keep Braden alive, and now I am taking part of your–”
“Um,” he interrupted. “Who is Braden?” he demanded, a little loudly for my comfort.
“Right, that would be the issue from last night.”
“Someone died last night?” he pushed.
“No, Braden died a long time ago. I just – I only remembered last night.”
Declán continued to stare in confusion. “Huh?”
“After you left last night, I terrified Nicholas and Star thanks to another memory breaking through. Do you remember me telling you about Gabriel?” I hissed his name without thinking, poor Declán shivering at the sound. “I told you that he had killed someone in front of me during one of his attempts to cure me.”
“Yes,” his voice barely above a whisper.
“The human I told you about is who I had the memory of, of his wake. His name was Braden Millar, he was my husband and Gabriel murdered him in front of me.
“I don’t remember his death but . . .” I turned away from him sharply. I could feel the blood tears struggling to break free again.
“Anya, what is it?” he asked, attempting to pull my face back to him. I couldn’t allow that as I could feel the tears streaming down my face.
“Excuse me,” I murmured as I jumped up and ran for the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I needed to calm down and wash my face before he saw me again.
– Knock – knock –
“Anya? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I sniffled. “Just give me a minute, please.”
He murmured his agreement, though I could tell he wasn’t happy about it. When I opened the door, it was to not just Declán but Kayla and Skye, as well. Great!
“What’s g
oing on?” Kayla asked quietly. “We could hear the crying. We weren’t snooping, honest.”
Declán reached out for me, wrapping me back into his form. “Girls, right now isn’t a good time.”
“No, I am okay, a ghrá,” I replied with a weak smile. “We were just talking about my memories and the concerns Skye brought to my attention today.” I leaned in as close as was safe and whispered where only he could hear, “Maybe if I give them part of the details it will placate and calm them some?” He simply nodded, though worry touched his eyes. “We can continue the harder part later.
“Come on, let’s all talk for a few then,” I continued as Declán led us back into his room.
“I told him about your concerns Skye, about not wanting to be aunties yet. We were discussing why this wasn’t a concern, but part of the reason upset me, more than it probably should.”
They looked back and forth between themselves confused. Kayla chose to speak first, this time. “What upset you? That we were concerned for you?”
“No,” interjected Declán. “The problem is that well, Anya can’t ever have children. I knew already, but it really bothered her when you brought it up. She, for some reason, thinks it makes her not good enough for me.” His voice stayed soothing as he spoke. Never letting go of me, he stroked my face with his right hand and continued, “She doesn’t seem to believe that I don’t care about such things. I love her for her.” I adored how his eyes always seemed to twinkle when he said ‘love.’
“That’s why you got so weird about our questions? We didn’t mean to upset you,” Skye said.
“Sorry,” they finished together.
“It isn’t fair to Declán.” I sighed. This was the only part I could tell them, but it should be more than enough reason for the tears.
“I don’t care. You are what I want!” He was so adamant, I nearly cried again. Who ever heard of a weepy vampire? Sheesh!