She’d had speech before contracting meningitis, allowing her speak with more ease than someone born deaf. But after her death, she’d refused to speak at all. The screams she’d produced when she woke up, the hole in her chest inexplicably gone, destroyed much of the house she’d grown up in. It was the reason her neighbors called had the police.
When the first officer walked into her room and immediately clutched his head in his hands, his nose and ears pouring blood, she knew she’d caused him that pain and finally understood what her mother had meant by the banshee stories she’d grown up with. I’m one of them. I’m hurting this man who only wants to help me.
For fear of hurting anyone else, she started using the sign language she’d learned with her family through speech therapy. It wasn’t until Wish confronted her about not dealing with her pent-up abilities that she allowed herself to speak again. Then, she’d done it for the only person who’d guessed what she was. The undead recognized each other, she supposed.
Soon, the sessions she took with another banshee to help her control her destructive voice turned into something else. She wanted to be able to speak without causing pain. If she could do that, she could gasp in pleasure, or groan when Alex’s lips touched hers.
He had to be the only man alive who’d willingly date a woman for so long without so much as kissing her. Until month six, he hadn’t even known why she wouldn’t let him touch her—he shrugged it off, confident in their relationship despite her strange behavior. Not once did he pressure her to do anything physical with him, even though she knew he desperately wanted it.
So did she.
It had been her plan to begin their physical relationship the night of the Bachelor’s Ball back in December. Finally, she’d made enough progress to speak without harming. Her mentor, Birgitte, had even stuck a knife through her hand, and through Leila’s shock, her scream of pain was harmless. She’d been ready.
Then Alex disappeared. He’d been holding her hand in both of his. They were listening to the band outside of the New Orleans Country Club, standing by a massive live oak. That night, Leila had no worries, but excitement for what their relationship would turn into.
They could have been mated, their lives and abilities entwined. At the very least they would’ve gotten married sometime in the future, once Alex was freed from the clan prohibitum and Leila had graduated from college. Just like that, his hands had vanished from hers, leaving only the chilled night air.
He had no elemental abilities to use, his earth powers bound as a part of his sentence, so he couldn’t have pulled off his own disappearance. The next thing she knew, she was standing at a funeral, where no tears would come. He was dead, gone from her life forever.
After watching him disappear she’d lost her control, revealing her immortality to the head soldiers of the werewolf pack, after which she’d been forced to finally tell Mary she’d died the same night as their parents. Leila cringed from that memory, not because Mary dissolved into tears, her husband catching her and holding her tightly, or because Raphael had accidentally let his elemental powers slip, creating a crack in the wall of his and Mary’s loft that made a perimeter around the room. He really had tried to keep his emotions in check, but Leila knew he was furious at her for keeping something like this from Mary.
It was Mary’s words that had been a blow to her sternum. “What did I do to deserve this?” she’d asked quietly. Then her voice rose to a shout. “How have I not earned your trust?”
They’d hardly spoke since. Leila avoided the firehouse anyway, unwilling to be reminded of the time she and Alex had spent there.
“Why’d you have to leave me?” she whispered. Nothing happened, not that she cared. There was no one nearby, her roommates too busy pre-gaming for the night’s parades to be at home. She was confident she was out of earshot from her neighbors on either side.
“I miss you so much.” The title of the text in front of her stood out, mocking her. “I know, O’Connor. I found the only man good for me, and I’ll never see him again.”
Without warning, tears fell down her cheeks, wetting the pages of her book. With a sigh, she set it aside, propping the pages open so they could dry. She couldn’t get anything done now. Besides, it was only Friday. She had plenty of time to write that paper.
So she let herself cry, murmuring to the February wind that she’d never forget about Alex, and how she hoped he was somewhere wonderful with her parents. They truly would have loved him. Immediately, they would’ve recognized his kind heart and patience.
They would have laughed at his constant stream of jokes and been touched by his support of her dancing. Knowing her mom, she would have loved the way he refused to let his packmates delete Desperately Seeking Susan from their DVR, just because she loved that movie. It was the most shocked she’d ever seen Heath, who’d wanted to record South Park over it. Alex had kept a straight face during the entire argument, which was utterly uncharacteristic of him.
Her father would have approved of Alex because of the small things he did for her, like helping her find a paperback published in 1984 that had been out of print for decades, or encouraging her to double major in dance and English not because it was practical, but because both topics made her happy.
Every day wasn’t this bad. Some days she simply had an ache in her chest that wouldn’t leave, but she worked through it, refusing to miss class and doing her best on her tests and assignments. She couldn’t let her grades go, which would lose her graduating honors. Alex would never want that for her. Though he’d never, ever raised his voice at her, even when they disagreed, she had a feeling he would be abjectly unhappy to indirectly cause her grades to drop.
She’d have to keep it together. For herself and for him. She owed him that, after all the books he read only so she could discuss them with him, for all of the countless rehearsals he’d taken her to, rehearsals she had to cancel plans with him for.
“I won’t let my life fall apart,” she whispered to herself. “I won’t give up on what we talked about, but I’ll miss you every day.” She wiped away a few tears, glad she hadn’t worn any eye makeup today. Lately, she’d stopped wearing it unless she had to. “Why couldn’t you have become a haint like Wish? Why’d you leave me?”
It was the question she’d asked herself constantly since Raphael and Mary had sat her down and told her Alex was dead. He’d made her promises, certainly none involving death, but promises that placed them side-by-side for the rest of their immortal lives. Now, forever was beginning to seem like a really long time.
Her phone rang. It was an incoming video call from Wish. Leila took a moment to compose herself, wiping away the lingering moisture around her eyes with the edge of her Tulane sweatshirt. When she accepted the call, seeing herself in a box on the screen, she realized there was more than enough redness around her eyes to give away her state of mind. There was nothing she could do about it now.
Wish’s lean face appeared on screen, looking slightly panicked. He noticed.
“I wanted to see how you were doing with that paper,” he said without preamble. After hearing about Alex, he’d taken it upon himself to take care of her. He always had, really, even before Alex’s death, but now he called her even more than she was used to, and met with her on campus almost every day.
She propped her phone up at the other end of the table so he could see her hands.
I haven’t accomplished much, she signed, feeling sheepish. Usually, once she sat down and tried to start something, she could make it a good way through, if not finishing the assignment completely. Lately, that gift had fled her…and Wish knew it.
If she was certain of one thing about him, it was his dedication to education. He was more than capable of pulling her, kicking and screaming, through the rest of this academic semester. Not that he would have to. She’d get this assignment finished, just like she’d do all the work expected of her in order to graduate in May. I can do this. Less than three months left.
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It felt like a lifetime.
“What text is it about again?”
She told him, and the sympathetic set of his eyes increased. Why couldn’t she have been assigned The Feminine Mystique, or “The Second Coming?” Something that didn’t remind her of her loss in Alex.
“Come over here and I’ll help you get started,” Wish offered. “Have you eaten yet? Thérèse dropped off this kale-and-squash macaroni and cheese that even Molly likes. There’s more than enough for you too.”
This was Leila’s best bet to get her work done…and have a decent dinner. She hadn’t been grocery shopping in almost three weeks, having put it off after finding a large box of protein bars Mary had bought her before Christmas. One of the bars, which claimed to taste like strawberries but really tasted like the fruit’s very sad, very neon pink cousin, was all she’d eaten today.
I’ll be over in a minute.
With a wave and a smile, Wish hung up. Leila laid her phone down and gathered her things, putting her pens and notebook into her backpack. Wish’s house was within walking distance, so she wouldn’t have to face the traffic caused by so many roads being closed for the night’s parades. Krewe d’Etat was one of her favorites parades, and she hated missing it tonight, but she wouldn’t have enjoyed it anyway. She’d actually looked forward to watching it roll with Alex—the crew usually created their floats to satirize local politics, even throwing out fake newspapers at the beginning of the parade. It would have had both of them in stitches, which was exactly why she couldn’t take seeing it.
She thought about him too much as it was; she’d have to be a masochist to seek out something he’d love.
Everything but her book was ready to go. Looking down, the wetted pages from small book filled with Flannery O’Connor’s short stories had dried, but they weren’t in pristine condition. Ash sprinkled over the words, falling into the crease in between the pages. She shook some of it out, watching it fall into the wind, but most of it stuck in that crease, turning the deep line almost black. Looking around, she wondered where the ash had come from. Maybe someone was burning leaves or branches from their garden, or using a fire pit. Really, she couldn’t muster the energy to care, even though when she stood, she realized the ash was sticking to her sweatshirt and leggings.
She threw her backpack over her shoulder and left through the gate at the side of her house, waiting to hear the automatic lock behind her. It was dark already, but Wish lived barely two blocks away, and the street was well lit. The road was also empty, everyone having already taken their places on the parade route.
The entire walk to Wish’s house, she watched ash dance on the wind and thought about the flambeaux men leading the floats down St. Charles Avenue, their twirling fire burning bright.
Chapter 7
AIYANNA woke up to a splitting headache and wished it were the result of drinking far too much Full Moon beer. Absently, she pondered whether that would help or hurt her current situation, but decided from the bright light pouring through the open curtains to her room that it was morning and likely not the best time to begin a drinking binge.
Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn’t had the chance to eat anything last night. She assumed she was still in the vampires’ house, since this definitely was not Emmanuel’s small place or the firehouse. Her room was huge, with lofted ceilings and an attached bathroom that, from what she could see, was equally large. Everything was either stark white or slightly off-white, giving it the appearance of abject spotlessness.
A set of fresh clothes—likely Charlie’s, as Lena and Jen had much smaller builds—sat neatly folded on the miniscule table next to her bed. Taking the clothes with her, she made use of the gorgeous bathroom and showered, her headache lessening slightly with the application of warm water and jasmine body wash.
Once she’d tied her hair in a thick braid down her back, still able to smell the floral scent lingering on her skin, she felt much better. Grateful the vampires had given her such nice accommodations, she made the bed, cleaned up after herself, and left her room to find a ride back into the city.
The house was completely silent. The vampires were probably asleep. She hadn’t considered their hours—why wouldn’t they be nocturnal, if they couldn’t face the sun anyway?
Damn. She hated ghosting away without thanking them, but she did not know these people well enough to prowl around their new home while they slept. And they don’t trust me well enough to sleep while I’m up. She’d find someone awake if she explored a bit—these creatures needed her help, but they would still be cautious around her.
From the view out of the bedroom’s window, she’d been placed on the second floor. It didn’t take her long to find a staircase down to the main level, and she knew she’d have to move toward the back of the house to find any vampires. There, they could move around without worrying about sunlight burning them.
As soon as she moved into the artificial light, she began to hear the tell-tale metallic cling of someone moving around a kitchen. A few more steps showed her it was Christian, accompanied by both Mary and Raphael, who were tucking in to a full breakfast.
It was all Aiyanna could do not to walk up behind Mary and steal a slice of her peanut butter toast.
“That smells great,” she commented.
Noticing her for the first time, Mary nodded, waving her hand by her mouth to indicate she was chewing. When she swallowed, she grinned. “Christian, here, figured you could use something hearty, and we figured we’d test his cooking skills before he fed you.”
Raphael gave his mate an indulgent smile. “You just wanted an excuse to have a big breakfast.”
Mary nodded eagerly, layering a piece of French toast on top of her peanut butter toast and taking another bite.
“What would you like?” Christian asked. “I used to be a chef before…” he bared his fangs and shrugged.
Laughing, Aiyanna sent Mary a pointed glance. “Whatever you made her would be perfect.” She was a sucker for anything drowned in maple syrup. When Christian offered her bacon, she accepted that too.
“Sorry I passed out at your party last night,” she said around a mouthful of her own French toast. After her first bite, she didn’t hold back her happy moan. Talking about the repercussions of overdoing it when healing wasn’t her favorite topic. For all her fussing over others, she didn’t like anyone fussing over her.
Doctors make the worst patients, after all. She had no advanced degrees, but reasoned the same concept could be applied to healers as well.
Christian put down his own piece of bacon and frowned. “Aiyanna, we didn’t realize how hard that would be on you, or we wouldn’t have asked it of you. If you don’t want to heal for us anymore, I understand. None of us will blame you.”
Feeling uncomfortable, Aiyanna waved her fork at him. “Who said anything about me quitting? We were just getting started!” How could he expect her to leave those humans hurting? Blood loss was a serious thing, especially when it occurred as often as it did to Jen, Lena and Bradley.
Mary’s highly amused look answered her question. Aiyanna groaned, and this time it wasn’t the result of sugar-induced bliss. “Cael. Ignore him. I like to, and it works out fine for me.”
Christian looked like he was about to speak, but Raphael beat him to it. “Cael said overexerting yourself like that could kill you. That’s not something we can ignore, and it’s not a risk we’ll take.”
Aiyanna ignored the fact that they were waiting for a response from her. She had a delicious breakfast in front of her, and she would enjoy it, damn them all. When she finished, draining the mug of black coffee to wash down her own slice of peanut butter toast, she finally met Raphael’s expectant stare.
“Sure, it could kill me. So could a group of vampires—no offence, Christian—or a kelpie I’m living with until I can figure my life out…or a merry band of well-meaning werewolves, especially one in particular who’d rather shove his fis
t through the nearest hard object than have a real discussion about, oh, anything.” She took a breath, and almost laughed at Raphael’s shocked expression.
Beside her, Mary did laugh. Both men sent her narrow-eyed glares. It only made her laugh harder, her thin shoulders shaking with mirth.
“How can you take your own health so lightly?” Christian asked. His hands twitched at his sides, making her wonder if he wanted to shake her. If he tried, he’d have two hands full of angry panther to deal with.
Her headache had returned with a vengeance, and it was rapidly wearing her patience thin.
“I take no one’s health lightly, even my own.” She tried to keep her voice even—there was no reason to get into a spat with this man yet. “That kind of healing could kill me, but it’s highly unlikely. Now, if someone took a sword and cut so deep you were almost beheaded, but not quite? Healing that completely would hurt me far worse. If you were burned so badly, you had no skin left? Repairing that would suck the life out of me like a vacuum.” She waved toward the living room where the vampires had fed. “That shouldn’t kill me, not unless you’ve got a dozen humans with blood loss.”
Raphael nodded, but her explanation wasn’t good enough for Christian. “We still can’t have you passing out like that every time you help us. If you continue to work with us, some changes will have to be made.”
That was fine with her. “I wasn’t expecting three humans, or I would’ve suggested this earlier.” Aiyanna held up a finger. “First, we’ll stagger the feedings. I can hang out here, bring some snacks and replenish between patching up the humans. With some protein, water, and rest before healing someone else, I should be good to go.”
When she didn’t abuse them like she had last night, her healing abilities replenished themselves pretty quickly, especially when there was extra energy bouncing around in her body. Not eating enough yesterday hadn’t helped the problem either.
Nourishment aside, she could call Sebastian on especially bad days. He’d magnify her energy with no problems. How he could do that, exactly, was probably something she didn’t want to know.
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