One early summer night on my way home from the library, I saw a familiar man walking down the sidewalk towards me. His face was still etched in my memory and still incited nightmares. It was Phil McDowell. He was older but in good shape. Recognition crossed his face when he saw me there.
“Alex! My God, it’s been a long time. How are you, pal?”
“It has been a very long time, Phil.”
When I said nothing further, he grimaced a little. “How are your folks?”
Again, I refused to reply. Phil began to look more uncomfortable at my silence. He shuffled his feet a little, looked around us at the empty streets and fear began to fall over his face like a thick, sticky layer of bitter syrup. His growing unease fueled me.
“Do you remember what you used to do to me, Phil?”
“What do you mean?”
I sneered at him. “The beatings. The bloody noses. The broken arm. Do you remember?”
He wiped at his brow. “Say, Alex. That was just horsing around. Kids get into those messes all the time.”
“I still have nightmares, Phil.”
There was a flame of anger surging through him, though it didn’t last long. “You were always a goddamn sissy. You deserved to get your ass kicked.”
“Not the right answer, Phil.”
“You’re crazy. Stay the hell away from me.”
I didn’t pursue him. I thought about the success I’d had at school as I watched him walk away. I tried to focus on what I had achieved. He disappeared around a corner a few blocks away from the library. I saw the sign for O’Mara’s Pub and decided to go in for a pint or two. It was rare for me to drink alcohol. I had spent so much time studying and concentrating on winning my imagined competition with Phil that I had left very little time for enjoying myself.
That was the night I met Michael. That was the night that changed everything.
He had changed my life. He had changed Sarah’s life. Drawn back into the present, I looked carefully at Sarah’s face and took note of the pallor of her skin, the brightness of her eyes. She was going to have to face some very unpleasant facts if she were to get through this with her sanity intact. I wasn’t sure how much I could help, but I felt I had to do something.
Hiding Katie from the Council would only be a temporary fix. Once Isaiah’s hearings were over, they would insist on taking her in for her own judgment. Until then, I wanted to make sure that Sarah’s sister stayed out of the way and didn’t spill any further blood.
“Maybe the Council will go easy on her.”
Sarah sighed, her shoulders sagging. “It’s not likely, though. We both know that.”
We were standing in the kitchen. Jackson had started some tea for her, hoping it would soothe her nerves. There had been no sounds from the basement since we had come upstairs. I was assuming that Katie knew better than to press me into a pursuit. If she did manage to escape, tracking her down wouldn’t take long.
Sarah sat at the small kitchen table and rubbed a corner of the tabletop with her thumb, absently attempting to smooth over the small nicks in the wood. It was another thing she couldn’t fix. She couldn’t change what had happened to her sister or what actions Katie had taken since she’d turned. But she felt responsible. I could tell.
“You can’t blame yourself for this.” I sat next to her and rested my arm on the back of her chair. I didn’t miss the sharp look Jackson sent my way, but I chose to ignore it. I didn’t like the guy or the way he acted like she was his property. If Sarah belonged to anybody, it certainly wasn’t either of us.
She turned tear-filled eyes towards me and shook her head, “What else can go wrong, Alex? I don’t understand why all this had to happen.”
“I don’t know. But you have lots of people that care about you and will help you through this.”
The cell phone sitting on the kitchen counter by Jackson rang brightly with some Caribbean tune. When he glanced at Sarah, she nodded.
“Woodhaven Inn. How can I help you?” he answered calmly.
Jackson’s eyes closed for a moment. His expression went dark when he recognized the male voice on the cell phone. I already knew it was Michael, but Sarah had no idea.
“Yes. She’s fine.”
I rose out of my chair and held out my hand for the phone. There was no way he was going to stop Michael from getting to Sarah if he were free. We all knew it. Jackson’s eyes flashed at me in irritation before he handed the phone over.
I put the phone to my ear. “Sarah’s okay, but Katie is a problem.”
“Alex.” Michael’s tone sounded almost grateful. “What’s going on with Katie?”
“She’s killed some humans. I’m going to find a place to take her, but somebody needs to be here with Sarah.”
Her face brightened when she realized who I was speaking to. I nodded at her without taking the phone away from my ear.
“Can I talk to her?”
I put my hand over the mouthpiece and urged Jackson with a jerk of my chin to leave the room. He smacked the sugar bowl down on the kitchen counter and stalked off without a word. At least he was somewhat obedient.
She was standing next to me, her eyes filled with a different kind of tears.
As her friend, I was happy for her. She wanted him. She may have even loved him. But I would be lying if I said that there wasn’t any disappointment flaring up inside my head over this change in circumstances. Of course, I realized that fighting Michael for Sarah was almost impossible.
Her vulnerability and the sweet way her face glazed over with hope when she took the phone from me said so much. It also reminded me why I had fallen in love with Sarah in the first place. It had been the combination of the super-tough exterior and the sensitive little girl she hid inside herself.
I shoved my hands into the pockets of my hoodie and headed back downstairs to Katie.
CHAPTER 7 – Sarah
I told Nelly that Michael was coming home. I used those exact words. She just shook her head and glanced towards the den where Jackson was watching TV. She was still upset about Katie leaving with Alex, but she understood how important it was to take her somewhere where the Council couldn’t easily find her. Alex seemed like the right person to make it happen.
“You’re not going to say anything?” I asked Nelly as we dried the last of the dishes from dinner.
She moved an empty pitcher aside in the cabinet over the sink to make room for another dish. “What do you want me to say, honey?”
Putting down my towel, I hesitated and began to nibble on my thumb. “I don’t know.”
She wiped down the sink and turned to me with a grave expression. “What are you expecting to happen with Michael?”
“I just want him to be safe.”
“That’s all?”
“No,” I admitted carefully. “I want to be with him.”
“How? What kind of future do you have with someone like that, Sarah?” I had seen that look on her face before. It was the same one she’d had when I said I was going to be started business school. It was almost as if she didn’t have enough faith in me to be sure I’d follow through. Business school was different than love, I told myself.
“Everything always has to be done in preparation for the future?” I asked sharply.
“Certainly not.”
“Just everything that I do. Right?”
She shook her head. “You’re not the only one. Katie was supposed to focus on the future too. You’ve both been living day-to-day in this mess. I want you both to be happy adults ten years from now. Not just tonight or next week.”
“You think Michael is a temporary fixture in my life? Really?” I was getting angry. What right did she have to make assumptions about my relationships? She didn’t know everything that happened between Michael and me. How could she judge it as if she knew it all?
“When is he coming?”
I took a ragged breath, trying to control my rising frustration with her. “Late tonight.”
Nelly leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed her arms. “You love him?”
“Yes.” No hesitation there.
“Sarah, he’s a vampire. How can you have a real life with him?”
I threw my hands up in the air. “How can I have a life with anybody, Nelly? My fucking demons follow me into every relationship that I have.”
“Language!”
“Sorry.”
“Nelly, your show’s on!” It was Jackson, calling from the den.
“I’ll be right there!” She gave me a steady, serious look. “You better think very seriously about what you really want, honey. As much as Michael might care about you, there’s nothing but heartache waiting for you down that road.”
I watched her walk out as I processed her words. They were spoken with clarity and Nelly’s typical wisdom. I didn’t really want to believe her, but there was a spark of doubt in the back of my mind that continued to burn.
What did I really want with Michael? Was there any chance at all of us attaining any lasting happiness? Was I fooling myself, like I had been with Trevor? Michael was nothing like him. No way. Not only did he lack Trevor’s mortal inadequacies. Michael also outweighed him in compassion and heart a hundred times over.
The future was a fathomless wall, looming up before us. No ladder would help us see what might be beyond that darkness. Then something sparked in my memory. There was someone who had the ability to see through that wall and determine what could happen to us. I didn’t know very much about her, but Victoria could tell me. I needed to talk to Meekah.
My cell phone chirped at me suddenly, startling me.
“Hello?”
“Sarah, we’re here.” Victoria’s voice was high and bright.
“I’ll be right down.”
“No. Send Jackson. Michael’s request.”
I hesitated for only a moment or two, my fingers gripping the edges of my cell phone in anticipation.
“Are you sure? I could come down there myself in just a few minutes.”
There was a fleeting silence on the line before a familiar male voice reached through the line and caused preemptory shivers to course through me.
“Sarah, it’s me.” Michael. I almost sighed into the phone.
“Hi.”
“If you would, please ask Jackson to come let us into the containment zone.”
“But why?”
“You ask too many damned questions, woman. Just ask him.”
“Okay, fine.”
Jackson did go down to meet them, but it was an hour before Victoria came to the front door with Jones. Michael was not on the front porch, and I had not seen Jackson since he had gone down the road to let them into the containment field.
Victoria’s smile was warm and her voice hushed. “He’s waiting for you in the family cabin.”
“Michael? Where’s Jackson?”
“Michael will explain everything. I have to go. Can I have your permission?”
“Yes, of course. You may go.”
Michael was waiting for me in the family cabin? Oh…
CHAPTER 8 – Michael
Victoria and Jones asked if they could help with anything, but I insisted on preparing everything myself. The cabin wasn’t in horrible shape, but I shook out the rugs and wiped down the kitchen and bathroom counters with some lemon-scented cleaning fluid I’d found in the linen closet. I tried to put fresh sheets on the large bed upstairs but grew frustrated with the fitted sheet and tossed a blanket over it all. I hoped Sarah wouldn’t notice. I started a fire in the stone fireplace and then looked at myself in the mirror over the mantle.
My hair was longer than Sarah had ever seen it. It was a reminder of my early days, crossing Europe time and time again after having become a vampire. Those were dark days for me. And even darker for any humans whose blood happened to pique my interest.
Truthfully, I felt like a fool. After my efforts to create a cozy place for us to spend an evening, I began to wonder if Sarah was even the type of woman to be drawn into intimacy with such tactics. What did I hope to achieve once the night was over? My desire was to see her happy, warm and glowing with life. I wanted her to know that she wouldn’t be cold tonight.
Tonight. And after tonight? After the evening was over and her eyes moved over me with questions, how would I respond? I turned away from the mirror and stalked through the tiny kitchen area, thirst and anger pulsing through my fingertips. I opened the door to the refrigerator and looked at what I had put inside.
Other than the five bags of blood, there were two cans of diet cola and an extra bottle of wine. I hadn’t thought to bring food for her. It seemed symbolic. Perhaps I expected her to want to become undead like me. She certainly wouldn’t need food in that case. But I had only considered Sarah’s temporary needs for this evening. Not her real happiness or what she truly wanted.
She deserved better.
I lifted my head and took a deep breath. She was coming. I could smell her skin and the distinct power of the blood moving through her. I could hear her eager steps across the dead grass, leaves and dry twigs of the clearing that led to the cabin.
There was a tap on the door.
I hesitated for only a second or two.
“Come in, Sarah.”
There was something infinitely sweet about the way her eyes lit up when she saw me. I couldn’t recall anyone ever looking at me in quite that way before. It touched me deeply; enough to cause pain. Because I knew we couldn’t stay like that, locked in a fantasy of mutual wonder where the real world never intrudes; a place where vampires and humans were the same and nothing separated us. Not politics, not hunger, not ghosts of the past.
It was heartbreaking.
She moved quietly around the cabin, stealing peeks at me occasionally through the dimness. She touched the bottle of wine and then drew her wet fingertips back. They glistened from the condensation on the bottle.
“How are you feeling?” she asked mildly.
“Fine.”
It was an inadequate response in an inadequate conversation.
“Not tired?”
“No,” I replied.
She was wearing a faded denim jacket that looked decades older than she was. It also held the scent of her father in its fibers. From the smell, he may have worn it close to his death.
When she noticed me looking at it, she smiled faintly. “My Dad’s. I thought it might give me courage.”
“Since when have you ever lacked courage?”
She rolled her eyes towards the ceiling and fingered one of the sleeves of the jacket. “Oh, since forever. Or maybe just since he died.” Moving to the fireplace, she tugged off her jacket and tossed it over the rocking chair by the window. She rubbed her pale hands together and held them out towards the heat of the fire.
Her hair smelled like ripe oranges. It teased and beckoned me forward. I came to stand beside her and took one of the gently waving amber locks into my fist. Her head turned towards me but she closed her brilliant eyes and let her lashes sweep over whatever emotion that might have been blooming inside her head. Without real intent, my fingers left her hair and touched her chin.
“Why do you close your eyes?”
“You frighten the hell out of me, Michael.”
She didn’t need to say more to make me understand. Her soul was straining to let go and burst open in the inky landscape around her. So much feeling inside that head, I thought. It was a mosaic backdrop of ocean blue with sprays of yellow hope and splashes of blood red anger. She had been holding in everything but the fury of her circumstances.
“Sarah, why don’t you let it out?”
Bright beads of wetness appeared in the corners of each closed eye. Her delicate chin trembled against my touch. “You can’t know.”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“Because if I let it go, you’ll take it when you leave me.”
“I don’t want to leave,” I said. But I knew what she meant.
She
inched away and covered her face with her hands, the grief beginning to seep from her in dark waves. “We can’t be together. You know that.” I wanted to go to her, but somehow knew it wasn’t the right time. She was on the edge of some important revelation.
After wiping her eyes, she glanced quickly around, taking in the wine and the fire and clean rugs. The fire in her rose. I immediately recalled Trevor, who had seduced her and then abandoned her. Was this what he had done? Before the accusations began to fly, I knew where her mind was.
She glared at me accusingly. “What the fuck is all this anyway?”
I sighed. “I’m not using you, Sarah. I just wanted to make you happy tonight.”
The sound of the wine bottle shattering startled me. It was a horrible sound that seemed to go on forever and accompanied by a searing sense of loss as I looked at the woman I loved. She looked at the broken neck of the green bottle in her shaking hand and then down at the mess she’d made on the pine floor. The red wine had splashed against her jeans and pale yellow sweater.
“This won’t come out,” she murmured helplessly. “This looks like blood. Michael, it looks like blood.” She reminded me of a trapped bird, desperately trying to flee from confinement. Her face was elegant in its sadness. But her eyes gave away everything.
“Let it go,” I said harshly.
When she didn’t respond, I rushed at her and pulled the dangerously serrated bottle neck from her hand. I held it up in front of her face.
“Do you see this? Do you know that this piece of glass represents the way you have tried to push people away from you? You were vulnerable for about ten seconds, Sarah. Ten seconds. And then you let your bitter side out. Is that all it takes?” I was shouting at her by then. “If you are ever going to be happy, you have to stop this. There’s more to life than you could possibly imagine. If you don’t open yourself up and let people in without chasing them away, you will be miserable for the rest of your life. Do you understand this?”
The Vampire's Release, A Paranormal Romance (Undead in Brown County #4) Page 4