“I need my coat, please, thank you.” Her hands trembled.
“Miss.” He walked her to the door and placed the coat on her arm. “He…” Yardley started to say, but she shook her head no.
“Thank you,” she managed as she walked outside and raced to her truck. Once inside, she stared at his door through the windshield.
How could she not have known? How could Lewis have known and not told her?
Lewis, she thought. She started the truck and drove to her house.
Inside she raced toward his presence.
“Did you have a good night?” Lewis asked. His smile faded when he saw her and felt her less than happy vibrations. “What did he do?”
“You. You knew he was a monster. A killer? How could you not have warned me? Lewis, what the hell, he's a, he's…” She started to cry and let Lewis take her in his arms.
“I'm sorry. I thought…”
“Thought what? That we would have parties with the townsfolk so he could drink them?”
Lewis held her tight against him. “He wouldn't…” he started but stopped. Did he really want to defend Sebastian? He did warn him not to tell her. Sebastian should have listened; he should have known his charming smile wouldn't be enough to erase that little tidbit.
He failed to mention to Sebastian that Gwen saw a vampire feeding before, and that it traumatized her. As he held her he wondered if he deliberately held that back?
No, he thought, it just came to mind now. Sebastian kept the secret for Lewis. He also gave him the charm to keep Fannie from seeing them. Plus, he offered his help to train Gwen.
“I don't think he would hurt anyone from town,” he finally said.
“No? You think it's okay then? That he kills people, because we don't know them?” she asked, and pulled back.
“No, I did not say it was okay. I don't know what he has to do. I don't know what happens when a being like us gets, well, we don't die. So what he is should never be.”
“But it is,” she said, and started to cry again. “I can feel his, he is dead. I can feel it.”
“Did he tell you what that means, for him?”
She pulled all the way out of his arms. “I didn't ask. Jesus, I don't want to play twenty questions with the monster. I thought we were having dinner. I thought I liked him. I have crap taste in men.”
Lewis didn't know what to say. He didn't know if he should feel happy or not about the shift in her view of Sebastian. Part of him felt elated and yet he knew Sebastian would play a vital part in the answer to their problems.
Once the initial shock wore off, Gwen let Lewis rub her back while she watched the fire and thought about what happened. Things transformed so quickly. Hours ago she stood in his kitchen, seconds from kissing him. She wanted to, she wanted to explore the something they both felt between them.
Her mind flashed to the long-ago night in New Orleans when she found a monster, vampire, undead, whatever they called themselves, feeding on a screaming man.
She thought at first that she walked into a mugging and stepped forward with her pepper spray. When the thing turned around and looked at her with its bloody fanged mouth, beady black eyes, and oatmeal gray skin, she dropped her spray, summoned Lewis and ran as fast as she could.
It was the first and last vampire she had seen.
Until Sebastian.
Her eyes closed and an image of his handsome face appeared. She pictured the smile he always wore for her. She could see his deep blue eyes and their alive twinkle.
The image changed and she could see his smile fanged, dripping in blood.
She shuddered and leaned closer to Lewis.
As she drifted, he felt her dreams turn bad and shifted their direction to happier things before he got up and left.
H e found Sebastian at the lake and they stood together in silence a moment.
“It would appear you were right about your witch,” Sebastian said.
“Sadly.”
“Is it?”
“For her it is. Give her time and space. It's what I found works best when I have disappointed her.”
Sebastian sighed. “I do think this might be more complicated than disappointment.”
“What are you? I know you are a vampire, but what does that even mean for us?”
“That is a good question, isn't it? A soulless undead creature with an undying soul. A magical creature with no true body, trapped in a body that will live forever.”
“But you bear all the curses of the undead while still being alive and still having your magical gifts intact.”
“Yes, that is as best as the enigma can be summed up. It is a punishment from the council. I suppose since my soul is eternal the virus couldn't kill it, and it couldn't destroy my form because it is held together by magic.”
“But you feed. You told Gwen that?”
“I do, and she asked.”
“Maybe I should mentor you on women. Honesty is not always the best policy.”
Sebastian laughed. “Is that how you fill your dance card? With lies and whatever they want to hear?”
Lewis laughed as well. “It may be why my dance card is empty. You care for my witch more than you should. I don't like that, but I understand why.”
Sebastian drew in a breath and sighed. “How is she?”
“Better than you perhaps.”
“I need to get inside. I will still help however I can. I would hope you do not go back to Fannie, and let me know what you need or if you have any concerns training Gwen.
Lewis agreed and watched Sebastian walk away. He still wouldn't count him among his friends, but he did understand what he felt. He knew how it hurt to lose Gwen's affection.
He suffered it daily.
Chapter Fourteen
G wen attempted to make her way through Sunday without thinking about Sebastian. She started by cleaning mindlessly. Even though it was a huge drafty house, she couldn't find enough dust or cobwebs to help her move past what she felt when she touched him. Her thoughts drifted from his sexy face and voice, to fangs and blood. She gave up on cleaning after she realized it didn't help.
She tracked down Lewis, who seemed happy to try and distract her. They practiced some new ways for her to see into the past, worked with stones, and even went outside to learn new ways to call up her elemental power. It didn't help.
As a last resort, she asked Lewis to show her what all still needed caulking or repaired on the house. She thought maybe harder manual labor would stop the images of Sebastian as a monster from settling into her mind.
Lewis did his best to pull her back when her thoughts veered off. He could see that no matter what they did, she could not stop thinking about it, him, the monster next door.
After fighting off dark thoughts all day, she took comfort that with Monday came deeper things to think about. Regardless of the state of her personal life she needed to focus on justice for Lizzy, and William if it turned out as she suspected.
T he drive to the prison felt longer than it should have as she fought back thoughts of Sebastian, the monster inside of him, what it meant, and why she still felt so drawn to him. When she finally arrived, her eyes drew to the high fence lined with barbed wire while she pulled into the drive leading up to the prison. Her mind wandered to the kinds of people it kept inside. People who killed innocent police officers.
Stopping at what she assumed would be the first of several check points, she showed the man who stood in a small booth all her paperwork. He looked it over with the same unemotional face she disliked on Curtis. After a few minutes, he instructed her on where to park.
She made her way through a few more stops. They searched her at all of them, she left belongings behind at a few of them. When she made it to the little room where the meeting took place, she felt relieved.
The room reminded her of a school cafeteria, with white laminate flooring and white industrial looking walls that held no art. The hard, plastic chairs shared the same school look.
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br /> She stood back and looked at the clear window with the gray metal circle in it. She wondered if Lewis and Curtis were right and she didn't belong there. The wall separating them stood there because the prison housed convicted killers, just like the one who she intended to sit across from.
What did she hope to gain? They charged Mike and no one else saw a connection between William and Lizzy's deaths. She knew she wanted a family so badly she would grasp at anything to get to know them better.
She watched the second hand jerk forward on the clock on the wall and wrung her hands together. How would she react seeing the face of the man who killed her grandfather? She wondered why the man even agreed to see her; the liaison explained to her he could have refused.
Even though she watched the clock, she didn't pay attention to the time. She didn't know how long she waited before a tall thin man, who looked pale and hard aged, walked over and took a seat behind the glass. Her heart raced and her throat went dry.
He looked like a gentle old man. His solid gray hair matched his thick bushy eyebrows. Deep wrinkles lined his face. He watched her walk over with yellowed, bloodshot green eyes, and chewed on the side of his mouth.
She wondered if he could see her hands shake, or tell that she could drop any second from her anxiety. She sat down across from him and summoned a little magic to pull herself together. “Thank you for seeing me.” She folded her hands in her lap and looked him in the eyes.
He had a softness about him, and as she probed him with her senses she felt a kind soul. If she could feel that from him maybe she couldn't trust her judgment of Mike too.
Sebastian told her that instincts would be her best guide on people. He was probably the best example of why she couldn't trust her instincts.
He nodded, and she thought she saw a small smile start to form. He looked over his shoulder to make sure no one listened.
She assumed someone always did.
“I'm really sorry what happened to your grandpa Miss,” he said.
His eyes told her with their softness he meant what he said.
Again, she let herself reach out with a touch of magic to try to get a read on him. She picked up sadness and a little fear, which she thought seemed strange. Maybe someone there harassed him. She imagined prison as a pretty scary place on the other side of the window.
She puzzled over his wording and the way he disconnected himself from the crime. She knew he did recant his confession.
“I, was hoping…” She took a deep breath. What did she want to ask? “Did you know him?”
The man nodded his head yes.
She swallowed. Everyone made it sound like a random accident. That sounded wrong to her from the start. It seemed likely in a small town everyone would know a local junkie. Especially the police.
“He was good to me,” he added, and frowned.
“How so?”
“Always had blankets and hot food. I never meant… I never would…” He paused as he looked around again and then focused his attention back to her. “I'm sorry about what happened to him.”
“He was kind to you? It was an accident?”
The man pursed his lips. “I'm really sorry.”
She felt more fear radiating from him and noticed he started to fidget. “Did you know Lizzy?”
He nodded yes. “She's kind too, like him.”
“She's passed,” Gwen said, and watched his eyes sadden.
He cut his eyes to the side and then frowned.
“Were you alone that night?”
His eyes got big as saucers. “I'm sorry what happened to your lovely family, Miss.”
“Someone else had the gun?”
At that suggestion he started to shift in his seat. He leaned in to the little metal speaker opening. “Them questions gonna get you or me hurt, Miss,” he spoke barely above a whisper.
Gwen sat up shocked and took in a breath. “By who?”
“Can't say Miss, don't ask anymore. Forgive me my part if you can.”
“Part, wait,” she said, as he started to stand. She thought quickly. Mike was too young to have been there in an active role. Who else could be the connection? “Trisha?”
He just shook his head no and started to walk away.
“Who can I ask?” she asked loudly.
He took a few steps back. “The shelter,” he said, and then walked away.
She paced the few minutes it took for the guard to open the door and walk her out. As they walked and she made her way through the various points, her mind raced over who could have been there that night, and also still be around. Pretty much everyone. No one left town.
The sweet ladies she met didn't seem like the type to shoot William and somehow frame or get that Junkie to take the fall. She needed to find out more about him. Maybe she missed a connection, some friends, school mates? Anything. A shelter. She could dig around and try to find some sort of local shelter.
She couldn't see a link to Mike and both murders due to his age. She didn't even consider Trisha because she would have admitted it just to get her son released. No doubt about that.
While Gwen visited inside the prison the weather outside turned bad, again. More snow. She looked at the clock when she got in the truck. It gave her some comfort that enough time remained to get home before the sun went down. She did not want to drive in the snow after dark. The prison sat isolated from towns in the middle of nowhere as she assumed most prisons did, since no one wanted to see that in their backyard. Since the roads probably remained unsalted, before she started the truck she made a small request to whomever might care, that not too much snow already did or would fall before she got back to the main, more used roads.
It took her longer than usual to get back to town. She pulled into Mel's to grab something to eat. Just enough people filled the place to ease her lonely feeling. She didn't want to eat alone. At least she thought she didn't want to eat alone until Curtis sat down at the table across from her.
Mel walked over and they both ordered the shepherd’s pie special of the day. As they waited for their food he looked at her with his blank eyes.
“Did you enjoy your visit?” he asked, and then sipped his coffee.
Gwen tilted her head. “I… How did you know where I have been?”
“I thought we agreed your nerves weren't up to such things. I was just wondering how you are holding up.”
Sensing compassion in his words, she sighed and decided to ask him some of her hundred questions. “It was okay, I guess. He seemed normal. I mean, even timid.”
“Psychopaths can seem as normal as you and I.”
She heard that somewhere before. “Do you think he could have had help?”
“Help? It only takes one crazy to pull a trigger, Miss.”
“Gwen, Curtis, it's just Gwen.”
“What I think, Gwen, is that you lost your family and want a reason. Sometimes the only reason is that life is awful and people do things that don't make sense.”
Mel sat their plates down and patted Gwen on the back while she looked at Curtis with a huge smile. “Holler if you need anything else, darling.”
Gwen looked from him to her. Mel and Curtis? A smile formed at the thought of the odd couple they would make.
“I guess. Of course, you are right. You would know more about people like that than I would. It just seems. Well Mike and him, they just both seem so normal. Harmless even.” She thought about her judgment and if it could even be trusted anymore. She felt like killers were normal, monsters were desirable, and lawmen, like Curtis, were untrustworthy.
Instincts indeed, she thought.
She watched his face soften as he ate and she also sunk into the delicious warming pie. “Is there a shelter of some sort here?”
“No, not in town.”
“Was there?”
His eyes narrowed. “No, not a proper shelter, why?”
She wondered if she should even tell him why, when she considered how he felt about her worrying her
pretty little head over things. “Oh, I was wondering since…” she started and paused.
“He, Lenny, lived in the church, Miss Gwen, if you must know. Your grandfather, William, was a donor and often worked there making repairs.”
“Was Father George there then?”
He nodded, the cold look returned to his eyes again.
Gwen decided not to press him anymore, she could ask Father George anything else she needed to know. “I'm looking forward to the festival,” she said, hoping to switch to something that would take the cold look out of his eyes.
He looked to the right, his eyes following someone and then back to his plate. “That's good. Should be fun.” He took another bite as his eyes drifted over her shoulder.
“Should be, I hear they have blue and pink cows.” She tested to see how much he paid attention to what she said.
“Yes, lovely,” he said, and then looked back to see her smiling at him. He furrowed his brows. “Yes?”
She turned her head to see in the direction he looked.
Mel stood talking with a customer.
When she looked back she thought she saw a hint of a blush on his cheeks. She didn't bother trying to engage him anymore as they ate. She watched the way his eyes seemed to follow everyone in the room as they moved.
Gwen imagined it would be hard to live with a police officer if they always did that. She almost giggled as she imagined doing simple things like brushing your teeth with cold eyes watching you, judging how you push the paste up in the tube, or watching to make sure you put the cap back on.
After they ate he walked out with her and stood at her truck. His arm leaned on her opened window. “I know it's hard not to have anyone waiting at home, no one to call family.” He gave her his card again. “I'm always up.”
“Curtis, do you really think Mike killed Lizzy?”
“I really do, and I wish you would leave it at that. Let me do my job and lock him away for good. For her and you.”
As she watched him walk away she wondered what sort of man hid under his cold exterior. Most of the time he seemed emotionless and disconnected as she assumed his job demanded, but a few times he seemed almost like he tried to reach out for anyone who might notice.
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