by Chloe Adler
If only they used their resources: us. Even though Distant Edge had been formed by Signum for Signum, the humans that lived here maintained a hold on the city council. It was mostly the humans who refused to provide an adequate budget to keep our town afloat. People were still afraid of the unknown—except those enamored by it—and humans still outnumbered us on Earth, by a lot. We’d been here first, there was no disputing that fact, but thanks to fear and ignorance, humans had hunted and killed us throughout history, always diminishing our numbers. It hadn’t been until recently, just twenty years ago, that Signum had all decided to work together. Not that all prejudice had disappeared among us. Far from it.
As I pondered the flyer, a lisping whisper came from behind me. “What’s a pretty pretty doing in dangerous here?”
Spinning around, I came face-to-face with a derelict vampire. Too late now. I should have visited during daylight hours. Even though all Signum can function just fine in the daylight, something about the shroud of darkness makes scum bolder.
Without even letting me answer him—rude!—he lunged for me. I quickly sidestepped.
He crashed into the telephone pole and tried to regain what little composure he had.
I took the moment to cast a simple spell. Why not try? Between what Iphi had shown me over the years—behind Aurelia’s back—and what I had gleaned from sneaking into the kitchen and watching my sisters’ lessons, I didn’t know much. But it was in my blood. Picking up my amulet, I blew on it, then without letting go of it, I chanted the Latin words for slowing down time.
“Custodes turre custodum usque ad solis occasum, tempus retardo.”
He seemed to be moving a fraction slower but not by much. He started toward me again, and I picked up some dirt from the ground and rubbed it into my amulet. His stride decreased by half.
Lucky for me. Unlucky for him.
“Witch . . .” His word came out slowly, tinged with disgust. I took the opportunity to pry a book of matches out of my pocket, light one and hold the flame to my amulet.
The thing sizzled and sparked, heating up in a microsecond and causing me to jump and scream, dropping the match.
Now the vamp looked like he was walking through molasses and I was getting a very nice blister. I hoped that was all I’d get.
Without time to lose, I focused on casting a freezing spell to bind him.
“Sede hic, non movent lamia.”
The vampire froze, bound in place by my spell. I wish I had time to pat myself on the back. For the first time in my life, I felt proud and strong and free.
“Maybe you’ll think twice next time before you try to bully an innocent. I’m not your enemy. Shame on you for perpetuating a stereotype.” I threw my words at him as though they’d mean something. One could try.
He merely hissed in response. You can’t change anyone’s true nature.
Turning, I made my way slowly toward Gate Three. Of all the docks, why did Ryder have to live in the Gates? They really were the grungiest of the town’s docks. Some of the docks actually had potential, like flowering Zee Dock or Langton, the artist’s community.
I hoped I could find him. Stepping onto the floating wooden planks, I had to gather my sea legs to steady myself. The nice docks were raised above the water with sturdy wooden railings to hold onto. Not the gates. I took my first unsteady step and the entire plank pitched to the right. Nothing to hold onto. Scooting to the center of the splintered wood, I made my way down the first gangway until I was able to step onto a marginally sturdier piece of wood beyond.
This was where the houseboats began. Technically, they weren’t houseboats, they were floating homes because they couldn’t go anywhere unless they were towed. Homes in the gates were dilapidated to say the least. I didn’t see a nice one, not like the one Jared had mentioned, from where I was standing.
The closest one was simply a concrete hull with an old tug placed precariously on top of it. It wasn’t even sealed properly, the hull itself visible. The tug, once painted bright red, was grimy with peeling paint. I peeked in to see a young girl doing dishes in front of the dirty, cracked window. She looked up at me as I passed by. Her eyes were dull and unresponsive. The moment she saw me, she ducked out of sight.
“Pretty, pretty,” I heard the vampire say before I smelled him. Rotten vegetables and vinegar.
“Back for more?” I asked as I spun around. He caught me off guard with a punch. His fist aimed at my face never connected. It was like one of those cartoons where the attacker hits an invisible wall. The punch rebounded, bouncing off of nothing. His confused expression mimicked mine.
“Witch,” he hissed. The word bled from his mouth, as dirty as he looked.
“Vampire,” I said, trying to imbue it with as much hatred as he had but feeling none of it. I loved my vampire. I couldn’t begrudge an entire race for one bad egg.
His eyes narrowed as he lunged at me again and though I was quick, he was quicker, even in his dilapidated state. This time, his entire body veered to the right, even though he had thrown his entire bulk directly at me. He slipped past, again looking like he’d hit an invisible force field, and fell directly into the water.
“Not . . . over . . .” he coughed, splashing in the muck.
Time to find Ryder while the vampire was flailing. I rushed on quickly, stealing a glance over my shoulder as he tried to swim ashore.
The next few boats also boasted a pirate theme. Floating on the water themselves without a concrete hull, the vessels were painted to represent anarchy. Anything to buck authority. Skull and crossbones flew high, the boats themselves painted black and gray with a splash of red. I kept walking.
Even though the boats were moving on the high tide, it didn’t look like people were home. I passed a concrete hull with no boat on it and peeked inside. There were rusty bicycles and an old barbecue, and some other debris had washed inside from the rain. How did they drain it?
I stopped in front of the next craft, a faded pink piece with vintage stained glass windows. I sniffed the air, almost instinctually. Ryder’s juniper scent was faint, but there. He was here, somewhere. I kept walking and sniffing until I came to a V in the “road.” Right or left? The planks on the right zigzagged around telephone poles. The planks on the left stopped at a houseboat about thirty feet away. I chose the right-hand route, though I couldn’t precisely say why.
Without paying a lot of attention, I walked past the next dozen houses on my left and right, out toward the end of the fork. My legs propelled me forward and I let them.
Most of the houses were falling apart, all in different states of disrepair. At the end of the dock, an actual boat was moored on the right side. On the left was a rather large floating dock next to a very cute house. The floating dock was set up like a yard. It held peeling wooden patio furniture, recliners, and a table surrounded by what had once been nice wrought iron chairs. Every vertical surface was decorated with multicolored twinkling lights. Like faeries dancing on the ocean breeze.
And yet, what stood out the most were the plants. Surrounding the buoyed dock like a fence were boxes and pots overflowing with plants. Some were flowering, their golden petals cascading outwards. Some pots even contained miniature trees. Both a lemon tree and a lime tree were resplendent with fruit. And the bougainvillea. I’d never seen so many different colors of bougainvillea all in one place, all trained on trellises, climbing up and twisting around. All in bloom. The sight lit my heart. I had never been one for flowers or sentiment; the feeling was foreign but not unpleasant. I tentatively stepped into the yard, not able to stop myself, even though the back of my brain was yelling that it was private property.
Bending down to smell a pot full of incredibly fragrant roses, I caught the scent of juniper playing on the wind. I stood, turning toward the doorway as it opened and Ryder came out. The lurch in my chest formed a knot, and suddenly my mouth and throat were so dry, I couldn’t speak.
Trying to sound nonchalant, I croaked out, “Hey there.
”
“Sadie. What are you doing here?”
My voice reappeared. “Nice way to greet the girl you were recently intimate with for what, the third time?”
“Sadie.” He walked toward me and held out his hands to me. Placatingly? “You kicked me out of your house, remember?”
I tossed my hair, watching a strand move past my vision. It looked like it was on fire. “Yeah, about that.” I shrugged and reached to clutch his hands. They were hanging in the air.
His eyes bored into mine. They were darker and more brooding than I remembered. His skin glistened in the sunset—he was slightly damp. The black curls of his hair were gleaming. His dark umber flesh had me thinking about drinking him down, licking and drinking and licking again.
He pulled a hand away and waved it in front of my face, “Sadie? Where are you?”
Shaking my head, I licked my lips, which were cracked and parched under my dry tongue. “Sorry, I was distracted. Can we go inside?” I looked toward the yellow wooden Dutch door he had walked out of. This house and yard were far too cute and well-kept for a man’s touch. Who was the woman?
As he made a small hand motion toward a chair, I caught a flash of movement next to me. The vampire. Ryder turned quickly, his upper lip raised in a snarl. He didn’t even have time to try and attack me again before Ryder’s hands were wrapped tightly around his neck.
I felt a surge of pleasure. My knight. No man had ever come to my rescue before. The vampire was dangling, and my knees buckled. The thing scratched Ryder’s forearms with long, sharp nails.
“Sadie. Inside,” Ryder said to me but I shook my head.
“He can’t hurt me, I’m protected somehow.”
Without letting go of the thing’s neck, Ryder looked back at me, wide eyes displaying a glint of fury. “He tried?”
I nodded slowly, watching the vampire’s legs scrabbling for purchase.
“Jonathan. Stop,” Ryder said to the thing.
The vampire stopped fighting. Ryder’s arms were bleeding. He lowered the creature to the ground, still holding onto his neck, now staring him down. Their eyes locked and something seemed to pass between them.
Jonathan briefly closed his eyes and then opened them again, not making eye contact. Ryder opened his grip and the vampire took off like a flash down the docks.
“You’re safe from him now,” he said, turning to me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I answered, rubbing my arms with my hands. “What did you do? You know him?”
“I know him. He won’t bother you again.”
“But . . .”
“Case closed.” Ryder folded his arms across his chest.
“Can we go inside?” My heart thumped wildly.
He shook his head. “Let’s talk out here,” he said, jutting his chin toward one of the wooden chairs as he led me over to it. After he eased me down slowly, he let go of my hand. What a gentleman.
Not wanting to lean back, I sat on the edge and placed my elbows on my knees, resting my chin on them as I waited for him to sit across from me. He adjusted his adorable ass in the seat.
“Are you okay?” I asked him, reaching for his hands. “Your arms . . .”
“They’ll be fine, small wounds,” he said, pulling a handkerchief out of his back pocket along with a packet of something that looked like antiseptic. He opened the package with his teeth, doused the scratches and patted the handkerchief to sop up the blood. Obviously this was not the first time he’d done something like this. I cocked my head at him.
“I’m a paramedic,” he said as he wound the cloth around his arm and tied it in place using his teeth.
“What? Why didn’t I know that?”
“You never asked.” He scooted to the edge of his seat. “How’d you find me?”
I tossed my curls again, dismissively. “That’s not important.”
“What is, then? You finally came to talk about us?”
“Us? What ‘us,’ Ryder?”
“Sadie—“
“No,” I cut him off. “I came to talk about the Scrim.”
His eyes widened and he gruffly rubbed his hand over the top of his head, mussing his perfect little curls. “Sadie, you don’t know what you’re messing with.”
“I don’t care. He has my father and now my sister.”
“What? He took your family too?”
“Too?”
“I mean . . . I know about others.” His eyes darted back and forth and his hand moved up to touch his face. He was lying. But why?
“We have to stop him and I know that you know something.”
Ryder stood up quickly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please go, just . . .” He raised his hand to point to the gangway but he didn’t move.
Different tactic, I could do that.
Suggestively licking my lips, I stood up and walked slowly toward him. I pressed my body against his and he didn’t move. Wrapping my arms around him, I petted the back of his head and leaned my face toward his ear. “You’re right, there’s something between us. I try to deny it but it’s there.” As soon as the words were out, even though I’d said them to manipulate him, I knew they were true.
His body hardened and flexed beneath my touch and then it relaxed as he leaned into me. He breathed me in. His head dipped further into my hair and his hands grabbed the nape of my neck. I was instantly aroused, drenched. My heart sped up like a spaceship getting ready for takeoff to places unknown. Not in my own body. Without my conscious bidding, my arms wrapped around his back, one of my hands sliding down to cup his incredible ass. I pushed myself into him, my head snapping back as he exposed my neck, kissing it gently. The soft feeling of his lips contradicted how tightly he was holding my neck. The dichotomy sent sparks up the front of my body and out of my arms and fingertips.
“Ouch!” Ryder jumped away and looked at me like I was crazy.
“What?”
He looked down at my hands and I followed his gaze. My fingertips flashed with tiny lights, like sparklers. I touched one hand with the other and the sparks fizzled and stopped. Ryder turned around so his back was to me.
“What does my back look like?”
His white T-shirt was burned, like he’d backed up into a bonfire. There were visible holes in some places and his dark skin showed through with tinges of red.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Would you like to explain?”
I rubbed his back with my hands. At first he stiffened and tried to move away but I held his shoulder with one hand and rubbed gently with the other before leaning forward and placing kisses on the skin that showed through. He sighed audibly and again his muscles softened. Every time my lips touched his flesh, the reddening lightened.
“That feels instantly better. More explaining, Sadie.” He spun around to face me and held my wrists in his hands. The intensity of his gaze kept me from looking away.
“Can we go inside?” I asked him again.
“I don’t think we’ll get much talking done in there.”
He was right. I wanted to wrap my arms around him again but he stood in front of me, holding my wrists tightly. “I’m not letting go until you tell me what’s going on, Sadie.”
“It’s my magic. Ever since . . .”
He cocked his head, never breaking eye contact. “Since?”
“We fucked.”
“Made love.”
“Whatever.”
He nodded while pulling his lower lip into his mouth. “That makes sense.”
“What? What makes sense? What do you know about it?” I tried to pull my wrists away but he was far stronger than me, even wounded, and I couldn’t budge.
“Look, there are witches in my family. And there’s one kind they don’t talk about. Much.” He stopped and shook his head before breaking eye contact with me.
“What are you talking about? You’re human.”
“I am, yes, but I was adopted. My mother and sister. My adoptive mother and si
ster . . .”
“You were adopted by a family of witches?”
He waved his arms around the yard we were floating on. “How do you think we have all of this? Here.” He motioned back to the dock.
“So you live with your parents?” Why had I chosen to bring that particular point up right now?
“I don’t. I don’t even live in Distant Edge. They raised me in San Francisco. When they decided to move here, I stayed there but . . .” He looked away again. The muscles in his jaw clenched. “They needed me. So,” he waved his arms around again, “I’m here.”
It was difficult to focus on his words; something was building up inside me. At first it was easy to ignore but like a gathering wave, it rose inexorably upward. During his words, something had awakened or clicked as his eyes had searched my face, as I’d listened to the sound of his voice. “Can we stop talking now?”
He looked confused. “Why?”
“Because I need you to fuck me.”
A grin spread across his smooth features. “I will happily make love to you, Sadie, but . . .”
“But what?”
“After we’re done, we talk.”
I nodded because in that moment I would have agreed to anything that man asked of me.
His room was not what I’d expected. Then again, I don’t know what I’d expected. The furnishings were sparse and his room was neater and tidier than my own. Where I had gone modern, Ryder had chosen shabby chic. This did not match the rest of the houseboat, which appeared to contain very expensive one-of-a-kind artist made furniture I recognized from magazines. I assumed it was a spell since he’d mentioned his family was not rich.
“You’re a minimalist?” Whoops. I hadn’t meant to sound so judgmental.
“I’m a practicalist, plus most of my stuff is still in my apartment in S.F.” He held his arms up. “I don’t want to bleed all over you,” he said, taking a step toward his doorway.
“Ryder, wait,” I called out, reaching for him. He let me, watching as I placed soft kisses up and down his torn forearms. Each place I kissed scabbed over. We exchanged glances. I shrugged.
A sly smile crept over his features and he pushed me onto his sleigh bed, hard.