by Joey W. Hill
“We’re a weird kind of group.” A good kind. He’d felt John’s touch in his mind and answered it with a reassurance of his own. No words, but still an instant understanding. There was a comfort to that he couldn’t possibly describe to anyone. Except maybe John. Or Farida. He wished Jackie could experience such a connection. Maybe she’d had it with her brother, and then had it taken away.
Tucking the pen into his jacket, he handed her the card. “You have no reason to trust me. I get that. But the number on there, all you have to do is call it, tell them I recommended you. Kane, Lady Lyssa’s son. I wrote it down. They’ll call me to check it out, and then they’ll give you a place to stay, and tell you about several different options they have for lodging and board and job training. A way to get you away from your life. And, if you’re interested, to help you find your brother.”
"No offense, but that sounds too much like the foster care system.” She eyed the card doubtfully. He thought about how pretty she’d be with good nutrition, more sleep and less uncertainty in her life. He’d like to visit her, see that happen. “My life sucks, but I control it."
He doubted that, but he understood what she was saying. Even when you had few perceived choices, you tended to be pretty protective of them. "No one would control you. It's a safe place, that's all. You’d never have to see Earl again. If your friend Nancy needs the same kind of safe haven, she could come, too.”
She took the card, ran her thumb over the writing. “I’ve been lied to a lot. Don’t really trust truth anymore.”
He put his hand over hers. “But something good happened to you on Christmas once. I’m hoping you’ll believe the same person can do it for you again.”
“People change from the time they were babies.”
“I’m just as trustworthy now as I was then.”
She laughed, and it was a nice sound, closer to the way he suspected she’d sound if she was able to laugh more freely and more often. “No offense, but you didn’t look too trustworthy then. You looked like you were pretty much a troublemaker.”
“And now?”
Drawing back, she perused him in mock appraisal. “Yep, pretty much the same. You can talk a girl into anything.”
“Well, except that one.” He nodded in the general direction of Farida, in the toy store. “And my mother. They both know me too well.”
“It’s good to keep those kind of people close. Best to always know who you really are.” A shadow crossed her face and her fingers tightened on the card. Since she looked on the verge of handing it back, to avoid the temptation of hope, he closed his hand over hers again, tightening her fingers over the card.
“I bet who you really are was the person you were with your brother. Maybe he lucked out, found a really good family, and you could be part of that. Maybe he’s married and has kids. You’d be an aunt. I’ll bet he thinks of you and misses you, too. A lot.”
“I’ve done a lot of things to survive. Makes me not really aunt material. He wouldn’t want someone like me around his kids.” Her brown eyes went soft though, a little tremor in her chapped lips.
“Sounds like you’d be the toughest aunt at the PTA. Totally kick the asses of any of those soccer moms who get out of line.” He touched her face. “I think he’d understand that you did what you had to do to survive, and he would be pretty damn grateful that you came back to him when you could.”
She dropped her gaze back to the card, to their clasped hands. “Okay, I’ll think about it. I…I really need to go.”
He rose as she did. After a moment’s hesitation, she held out her hand, an oddly formal gesture. Rather than shaking it, he just closed his fingers over hers again, ran a thumb over her pulse. It was automatic for him, the sensual testing gesture when touching a woman, and he didn’t think to restrain it until it was too late. Fortunately, she didn’t react with offense. Instead he saw her lips part, and her eyes light with curiosity at her own conflicted response to him. How often did a prostitute let herself feel desire, let herself yearn for anything related to a man’s touch?
He thought about drawing her into a quiet corner of the mall, sweeping her hair back from her throat, taking that draught from her that his mother had suggested, but then he dismissed the idea. He’d have to cloud her memory to do that, and it was important that she remember their discussion here. Important to him as well.
She smiled thinly, an apparent self-deprecation at her reaction to a handsome man, then she tucked the card and her hand back in the pocket of her quilted vest, holding the strap of her bag with the other one. For all that it was intended as outerwear, the vest didn’t look like it provided much warmth over her jeans and T-shirt. While Atlanta wasn’t Minnesota, it was December, and they were having a cold snap. He shrugged out of his cashmere overcoat and held it out to her. “Take this and put it over your clothes. It will work better than what you have.”
She shook her head and took a step back. “No. It’s not my size.”
“It’s warm.” And if she didn’t call that number, she could sell it and make rent for a couple months.
“I told you I didn’t want your charity.” Her chin set in that stubborn jut again.
“I get that, too.” He closed that step, leaned in, met her gaze. “Put on the damn coat, so if this is the last time I ever see you, I don’t remember you cold.”
Despite John and Farida’s teasing, he knew he did occasionally channel his mother, as well as his father’s more authoritative side, but the tendency toward dominance, a compelling desire to overwhelm, to take over and claim surrender from a human, particularly one that attracted and intrigued him, was an unavoidable vampire trait. Even Farida had her fair share of it. Yet Kane had far more, and it seemed to grow stronger with every sunset.
In his flirtations with Rida, when he was hovering a breath from kissing her, he’d see her eyes soften and her lips part, telling them both which one held the upper hand. Registering that awareness in her eyes could raise his blood temperature exponentially. Still, for all that it was an expected vampire trait, and one he was starting to experience quite regularly, seeing that click happen in a woman’s eyes was always like tasting blood for the first time, the rush of energy and wanting more.
The satisfaction he felt at the shift in Jackie’s gaze, telling him she’d capitulate to his will, at least in this, turned to amusement as she slipped off the vest and extended it with a defiant look. “A trade, then.”
He accepted it, noticing it had been sewn a couple times to keep the filler in the puffed square pattern. The zipper was broken. But she’d patched it with some pretty floral pieces and a couple glittery stars, which actually made it look pretty trendy, at least based on what he’d noticed other females in the mall wearing. “It’s lovely. The color will match my eyes.”
She snorted and pulled on the coat. Despite her best efforts, her expression altered at the feel of the cashmere. “Oh…wow.”
“Yeah, it’s soft.” Turning her toward him, he buttoned it up the front. “Better?”
She looked up at him. He saw it, a flicker of hope, the same look he remembered when she took the bear. His grip tightened on the lapels. He wanted to take her home. He wanted to make sure she would be safe. That she would find her brother. Giving her that bear and the remarkable coincidence that had brought their paths back together tonight made her his responsibility.
Yet the coat and the card would have to be enough. She put her hand over his, unlocked his fingers, that wary look back in her eyes, and he forced himself to let her go, let her step back.
“At least call them to talk,” he said. “Promise me.”
She pressed her lips together. “Maybe. Thanks, Kane. I hope…well, best to you. Thanks for this, no matter what.”
She shouldered her purse once more. She hadn’t noticed him slipping some more money in there. She’d be smart enough to hide it when she discovered it, though, because if Earl totaled up his take against hers, she was the one who’d gotten the eighty p
ercent, which she deserved far more than that piece of shit did. A dollar was more than Earl deserved. As he envisioned what the man actually deserved, another little spike of bloodlust shot through his gut.
Kane made himself stay still and manage it as he watched Jackie move away into the crowd. He kept watching her, and she looked back several times to see him still doing so. Finally, she reached an intersection of hallways, lifted her hand and was gone, slipping through people like the shadow she was in their world, a creature that lived on the fringes. She was right. The coat was oversized, down nearly to her ankles, but that was okay. It would keep her warm.
He should have at least tried to get her address, find out more about her. But he could have pushed too hard and she would have disappeared before he gave her the card. He had to hope the choice she made was the best one for her. She wasn’t part of his world. He couldn’t make her choices for her. He didn’t have that right, no matter that the vampire in him pretty much said he should because, well…he was a vampire and she was a human.
If he’d handled things better, maybe she would have let him call the number for her, stay with her until the contact from Mason’s safe house came and took her under their protection. Then he’d know for sure she’d be fine, safe, and no one like Earl would be in her face again. He thought of her as a little girl, homeless. He thought of all the luxury in his life, the love of his parents, and he was angry, dissatisfied, with no particular target for it.
He was useless, had no power. It didn’t matter if he could dominate a woman sexually. What did that mean? No better than kids playing king of the castle on a playground.
He moved toward the toy store as John and Farida were coming out. Farida had on a head band mounted with coiled springs tipped by colorful felt Santa Claus faces, a pair of festive antenna. She was trying to get John to wear one with reindeer and he was dodging her. When Farida turned her attention to Kane, she read his face and sobered. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Fine. I gave her the number of one of Mason’s safe houses. She might call it.”
“What? You didn’t overwhelm her with your masculine charm and make it happen?” she teased.
When he curled a lip at her and turned away, Farida touched his arm. “I was only kidding. I’m sure it will turn out all right.”
John was watching him, too closely. “Hey, you think it might be time for some blood? If you want, I can grab a cup of the cider and give you guys a shot the discreet way.”
“I don’t need anything right now. Particularly a human telling me when it’s my feeding time.”
“Kane.” Farida looked at him sharply, but he made a dismissive gesture, thrust Jackie’s vest at her and stalked away. Yeah, he was being a jerk. He’d seen the hurt look on John’s face before he’d quickly masked it. Stick a pin in and pull it back out, then pretend because the wound closed it didn’t matter.
He left them behind, striding through the mall until he reached an open area with a fountain. There was a statue of a frost fairy on top, surrounded by a mobile of hanging snowflakes that sparkled. The fountain was edged in rope lights in ice blue and white colors that sparkled like water bugs skittering across water. Teenagers were throwing coins into the pool and making wishes. He wondered what simple things they were wishing for. A car from their parents when they got their driver’s license. A girlfriend or boyfriend. To be popular, to be pretty. To be older.
Yeah. He could get behind that one. Kane tossed a coin in, but he didn’t wish for that. He wished for Jackie to call that number. Then he took out another coin and wished to be older. Sitting down on the wall, he trailed his finger in the water, swirling it so the water over the array of shiny coins at the bottom wavered. He made a figure eight. A circle. A heart. Closing his eyes, he took a breath, then another. He needed to center, to make it all make sense.
To keep from ripping out Earl’s spine, he’d grounded himself in the ways he’d been taught. But there were other methods he used to calm himself, things he could do when it was just about the struggle between him and his wildly vacillating moods, his penchant for sticking his foot in his mouth or saying thoughtlessly cruel things just because he wanted to lash out. Maybe a twenty-five year old vampire should be stuck off in a cave somewhere for about a decade. He expected most parents had the same thoughts about their teenagers, but the constant comparisons to humans almost half his age, even from himself, really wasn’t that fucking helpful. Especially not at this moment.
So he shut his eyes again, breathed, and decided to risk a method he hadn’t shared with anyone. So far, he’d done it only by himself, but he wanted to do something, anything, that broke him out of this mode. He wanted to feel like a bird finally coming out of a cage, stretching his wings and proving that yes, he could fly without crashing.
Opening his eyes to mere slits, he watched the ripples he’d started with the movement of his fingers expand, creating more ripples. The figure eights became other figure eights, other circles. It was as if there were a drawing pen moving over the water, making swirls and shapes, zigzags, heart shapes, cutting back across itself. He had the pleasure of seeing the teenagers start to notice it. They pointed and grinned, began looking for whatever device or contraption was causing the effect. All he had to do was keep his hand in the water. Feeling the energy and movement of the water, it was so effortless to call to it. Like children on a playground in truth.
The water began to jump up in small plumes, picking up on the Christmas music beat filtering through the mall. “Joy to the World” couldn’t be a more perfect choice. At the crescendo he took a breath, absurdly pleased by the wave of oohs and aahs from the gathering crowd as a wall of water lifted, like the legs of a chorus line. The jets of water crashed back in to the pool in a sparkling display.
He could make water change its nature, use its energy and power. He didn’t understand how he did it, just that he did. The ability had started around his twenty-fifth birthday as well, and he hadn’t really talked to his parents about it yet. Because he’d wanted it to be his for a while longer, something that didn’t have to be discussed and regulated.
It felt good to see the faces of the kids. He looked up to the second level just in time to see Jackie leaning on the rail, watching with everyone else. Only instead of looking at the water or commenting to the people around her as others were doing, her attention rested on him, her gaze shifting to his dripping hand as he rose and turned to face her fully. He slid his hands into his jeans pockets but when he looked up again, she was gone.
* * *
“There he is,” Farida murmured, unnecessarily. John could still track Kane anywhere because, well, Kane couldn’t ever really lose him. It was one of the reasons second marks for young vampires had to be well-trusted members of the household, because the vampire didn’t have the mind control to completely block his location from that second mark servant until the vampire reached his forties, generally. Something John wisely didn’t point out to Kane too often, though he was sure his friend was well aware. And ignored it like everything else John could do.
Well, fuck him, damn it. John was getting a little sick of it, the walking-on-eggshells and worrying about the big bad vampire’s feelings. So Kane couldn’t get out in the world just yet and do everything he wanted to do. Boohoo. Welcome to the human world, asshole. Only once you are able to get out, you’ll be able to rule the damn world for a jillion years. I only have a certain amount of time to learn and grow and be out there. Or I can be your servant and it will be all about you for the rest of my three-hundred-year life.
Showing that she’d probably picked up on his agitation, Farida touched his arm. “Let me go be with him on my own a second.”
“Fine.”
She gave him a glance but left his side to go to Kane. Kane had been standing at the fountain watching some kind of water show they must put on for the holiday season, but he’d now moved to one of the store display windows so he could study a selection of men’s coats. Farida p
ressed up against him, slid her hands around his waist and under his shirt to caress him. Kane tilted his head, speaking to her, then he latched onto her wrist and brought her in front of him, leaning down to kiss her. It was a more thorough kiss than John had seen him give her before. Watching two exceptionally beautiful people get one another hot and bothered, while the display behind them twinkled and turned with festive Christmas lights, was like seeing a Hallmark Christmas movie marathon meet an erotica film fest.
Being in a semi-state of arousal around vampires was something every servant at any mark level had to manage. But these were his childhood friends, and he’d been away from home awhile, so it was still a bit shocking to feel his hormones react as strongly as they did to them. Farida had gotten it started with her little tease back there on the bench, but John reminded himself it just emphasized what he’d said to her. Sex with them would mean something far different to him. Or would it? Was it better for him to think they would be more detached, because if they weren’t, if they felt the way he did, how could he ever walk away?
Sometimes it was all so much, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. How could he want two different things so much and choose between them?
Kane lifted his head and pinned him with a look. This time, the look was what John often saw on Lyssa’s face when she looked toward Jacob.
I think I’ll take you up on that drink now. Only I don’t want it in a cup of cider. I want to go somewhere private, here in the mall. Suggestions?
When in public, all servants scoped out places a vampire could seek out privacy for a variety of reasons. Whether or not they were on the outs with one another, Kane had relied on John to do that. Which, being an idiot, John had.