by J Wells
Throwing her dark locks over her shoulder, she turns her back on me, chatting away happily to Tristan. The jukebox lies silent, and holding her head in her hands Rose slumps over it. I wiggle the black purse free from Jazlynn’s hold, help myself to some of her loose change and place her purse on the bar. Stumbling past the snooker tables, I make my way to the jukebox.
“Rose, are you okay?”
Unsteadily, she spins around.
“Oh, it’s you!” She chuckles. “Lucian, the vampire!”
“Keep your voice down.”
I throw money into the slot and don’t even look at the buttons I press. Any song will do to drown out her voice. She throws her hands around my neck; clasping them, she hangs off me. Grabbing her under her arms, I lift her and gaze into her dark brown eyes. I inhale; her breath reeks of tequila and the citrusy scent of lemon. Tiny salt grains sit on the edge of her lips.
“Go for it, give us a kiss, vampire.” She puckers her lips.
The jukebox is a perfect seat, so I sit her on the cold glass and remove my hands. A quick look around suggests Tristan and Jazlynn haven’t noticed my absence.
“I haven’t sat on anything as hard as this before.” Rose titters.
Returning my focus to her, I am met by an open-mouthed grin.
“Sober up for a minute, will you? I need some advice.”
She rolls her eyes and sways; to steady her I grab the strap of her polka-dot dress.
“I’m all ears,” she splutters, though her plastic smile is quite an annoyance.
“It took tonight for me to realise I’m in love.”
Lines attach themselves to her forehead. “Well, I don’t love you.”
“That’s good, because I don’t love you either.”
She frowns.
“No, Rose, it’s not you, it was never you. I was confused. In the beginning maybe I thought it was love, but I was wrong. For what I loved was the beat you gave back to my heart, my lost reflection that re-awoke in the mirror, and above all, what I loved most was the feeling of life you returned. God damn it!”
The record jumps and the glass vibrates as I slam my hand down.
“When I was with you I felt human. No…” I shake my head. “It was much more than that, I was human.”
I can’t bear to look at her, so my eyes move to a small mirrored plaque that runs along the top of the jukebox. I catch the green brilliance of my emerald eyes as they stare back and I smile.
“But, Rose, all of these are of no importance now. I don’t need you any more, for these mortal traits return without you.” I hold my hands before me. “Rose, look, I am human.”
She doesn’t utter a word; I watch her eyes as they move towards the bar. She looks back at me.
“Not bad.”
“What?” I enquire.
“You and Jazlynn, you make a cute couple.”
“How did you know?”
Rose taps the side of her nose with her finger.
“A little bird told me.”
Tristan, of course. I remember back to the alley, his dark silhouette, how close I was to kissing Jazlynn. I slump my elbows into Rose’s lap and feel her fingers ruffle my hair.
“I’m far too late.” I shake my head. “Her love for me was years ago. The one and only thing she asks of me I am unable to give her.”
I feel Rose’s hands on my shoulders pushing me back, and she tilts my chin.
“What, Lucian, tell me, what does she want?”
“The last dance,” I say, with a shrug of my shoulders.
“Well, if that’s what the lady wants, that’s what you must give her.”
“For someone who’s pissed, you speak a lot of sense.”
I take her in my arms, but the hold we share is a friendly embrace. Her body jerks; I can hear strange noises welling up in her throat.
“I’m going to throw up.”
I lift her to the floor and she clasps her mouth in her hand. I can hear her gags as she runs towards the female toilets.
Strolling towards Tristan, I see him point down towards a shot glass; I shake my head in response.
“Tequila? Sambuca?” he asks me as Jazlynn bites into a slice of lemon.
Her face puckers. “Vile!”
“Enough!”
I snatch the shot glass out of her hand. I can feel actual heat in my face rising up from my neck.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask.
“Living a little,” she snaps.
I separate segments of lemon between my fingers, discarding the pips. With my free hand I grab the salt pot.
“Tequila, Tristan?”
I gaze up at the sky as the clouds lighten, and watch dawn as the sun brings a new day. We amble our way through the forest, arm in arm, the four of us resembling a long chain. Lucian’s shoes clear leaves from the castle’s entrance. Bundling handfuls into my arms, I throw them over Jazlynn’s head and she chuckles. Running away, she shakes herself and pulls them out of her hair.
Lucian grabs her arm.
“Stop messing about, will you? Get inside!” There is a sobering edge to his voice; this isn’t the tequila shots talking.
He looks up and his eyes hardly leave the sky as he continues. His elbows and hands seem to hurry us through the narrow entrance before the square wooden hatch clicks shut. Masked by darkness, we make our way down the steep stairway.
“That taxi took its time,” Lucian huffs as he pushes us through the window and into the oaken bedchamber.
We are not welcomed by the castle’s silence, but by raised voices and merriment coming from the floor below.
Lucian frowns and his eyes narrow as he turns his arm, peering down at his wrist watch.
“Six thirty, Jazlynn. You don’t sleep, I don’t sleep.”
“No, Lucian,” Tristan butts in, “they don’t sleep either.”
I see the flash of Lucian’s eyes, a vibrant shade of green. His cheeks hold a far deeper colour than I remember. I turn to Jazlynn, who stands making faces at herself in the free-standing mirror, seemingly quite taken by her newfound reflection.
Lucian slams the door back against the wall. I grab Jazlynn by the hand and we follow, doing the best we can to keep up with his quickening steps. The doors to the dining room stand wide. One by one we filter in. The voices I hear are raised, deafening in fact. Thick clouds of smoke billow up towards the high ceiling, where their subtle grey wisps open out and hang. All of Lucian’s family are seated around the wooden dining table. I look from one face to the other. I recognise Edmond’s wide cheeks and blonde hair. He sits back in his chair, his feet crossed on the table, a thick cigar pressed between his lips. He nods his head to acknowledge me.
The long table is littered with boxes of half-eaten pizza. Silver spoons hang out of foiled trays of Indian and Mexican food. I hear bottles chink together and watch red and white wines being poured. The women sit silently as they sip from fluted glasses, while the men shout and guzzle from beer cans.
Caspar and Charles sit side by side; I see the glare of their eyes and look away.
“Tristan,” I whisper, squeezing his waist.
He clasps me in his arms.
“What the hell’s going on?” Lucian hollers.
Chair legs screech, silverware is dropped, shocked faces turn and the room falls silent.
Lucian strides the length of the table and back. It seems his steps hold an authoritative air, and no one dares interrupt. He punches his fist on the table, making the foil trays jump. He flings his arms at crockery and glasses, and I watch as they fly and shatter. Red wine drips from the table and collects in a small stream on the wooden floor.
Lucian stands tall with a regal gait.
“Family,” he addresses the room, “you are all meant to be in your bedchambers, sleeping.”
“Lighten up, old boy,” a small, fat man pipes up from mid-table. “Here, Lucian, chill, have a piece of pizza.”
He picks up a pineapple-topped slice, which he pas
ses to his left; it is then passed on down the table to where Lucian stands.
Lucian’s fists clench, and I watch his face redden like fire.
“Julian, have you quite forgotten your place and manners?”
Shouts of anger rise around the table, heads turn and fingers point towards me.
With the screeching of chair legs, I look to my right. One-handedly Edmond throws the chair from beneath him and jumps to his feet.
“Family, be silent.” His focus turns to Lucian. “Calm yourself. This is the meeting you requested I call. I have sent Bert and Reggie for refreshment, so now we can eat and drink.” He holds out his hands. “They had taken a vote; I had them on side, your side… And you storm in and undo all that I’ve done.” I hear the hiss of his cigar as Edmond stubs it out on the table. “From now on I suggest you fight your own battles, for I’m done.”
With his face filled with petulance, he marches from the room.
Lucian takes the pizza slice from Bert’s hand.
“Thank you, Julian!” he shouts along the table. “As you were.”
I’ve never heard Lucian admit he was wrong before, and this is the closest I think we’ll get to an apology. As I watch him take his first bite of pizza, it’s as if he’s taking a bite into his bruised pride.
I gaze up, meeting Tristan’s stare.
“Look at the colour of their eyes, their faces; they’re human,” I whisper, tugging at his shirtsleeve.
“Yes, Rose, almost, the reason being that they have agreed to help you. Due to their unselfish actions they have acquired every human attribute without the privilege of being human themselves.”
Jazlynn pulls at my hand, and I free myself from Tristan’s arms. She leads me to where two empty chairs sit in wait. Once seated, I peer up between faces.
Lucian reaches down to the table, passing Tristan a cigar. I see a friendly smile pass between them, quite unexpected and something I thought I’d never see. Lucian leaves Tristan’s side and walks down the length of the table, patting the shoulder of each family member in turn. I look towards Jazlynn, whose face is buried in a glass of sparkling wine. She gestures towards a decanter for me to join her. Having sobered up and felt sick for the last couple of hours, I decline.
“Lucian’s told me.”
Almost choking, she places the glass down.
“Told you what?”
“That he loves you.”
I can sense her awkwardness as she avoids my eyes and plays with her ebony hair. She clicks her tongue; I can only imagine what she must be thinking.
“He doesn’t want me, not really. It’s just because…” She pauses, her gaze focusing on my eyes. “Because he can’t have you.”
“Jazlynn, are you blind? He hasn’t taken his eyes off you.”
Her cheeks flush, though on this occasion I know it’s not the wine.
“If, as Tristan said, you’re all becoming mortal, then don’t you think you should give Lucian a chance? Jazlynn, in life you only get one shot at happiness.”
I think back to Jai, and the love we shared. I think back to my mum. Jazlynn has so much, but she just can’t see it. I swivel on my chair, and taking her shoulders, I turn her to face me.
“If love comes, then grasp it with both hands,” I say.
I look towards Tristan with a cigar in his mouth, his eyes creasing in his attempt to smile.
“Don’t let love slip between your fingers.”
“But, Rose, I did love him, I loved him more than life itself. I knew, everybody knew that he was dying, yet still I wanted to be the girl he held within his arms, I wanted to be the girl with whom he danced his last dance.”
“Jazlynn, let it go. You can’t hold onto the past, what’s done is done.”
She takes a breath and smiles.
“Bert!” Lucian yells.
Heads snap round.
“Who the hell is this?”
Leaning forward, I peer along the table to where an unknown girl sits hand in hand with Bert. She’s a plain soul; one easily overlooked. Her mousey-brown hair sits on her shoulders, her face lacks expression; her most distinguishing feature is her eyes, which are an opulent blue, and as I gaze into them they appear to be constantly on the move.
Not allowing Bert time to respond, she reaches out her hand.
“I’m Brooke,” she announces.
“Hi, Brooke, nice to meet you,” Lucian replies, accepting her hand. “Would you care to enlighten me as to how you got here?”
His smile and his words cry out sarcasm as he rests his elbows on the table and leans his head closer towards her.
“Bert brought my fags and we got talking. Anyway, I can’t be here too long, lessons start at nine.”
“Uni? College?” Lucian enquires.
Brooke shakes her head. “Nah, I’m sixteen.”
“This is priceless! Soon the whole world will know about us. What possessed you to bring an outsider back to my castle?”
“I fancied her.”
“She’s sixteen, God damn it! A minor!” Lucian bellows.
“I didn’t know that; she told me she was nineteen.”
“Just tell me you haven’t touched her.”
Bert slips his hand from Brooke’s.
“No.” He shakes his head.
Lucian drops his half-eaten piece of pizza onto the table, clears his throat and addresses the room.
“Didn’t any of you think of the consequences of bringing an outsider into our home?”
I look around at the blank faces.
“You’re a fine one to talk,” Charles pipes up and then looks directly at me before returning his gaze to Lucian. “To be honest, I can’t say we noticed her.”
I watch as heads nod around the table. I look at the women in Lucian’s family; they are all nondescript and so plain, all except Jazlynn; I can see how easy it was for Brooke to be overlooked.
“Maybe,” Tristan pipes up, “I could take her home, drop her off at school?”
I can hear a crunching sound, and my eyes dart to Caspar. He is crushing his beer can between his fingers.
“You can’t let her go! Just kill the girl and get it over with!”
He tosses his head forwards, causing his auburn hair to fall across his square-shaped face.
“You know the rules, we can’t kill humans!” Lucian hollers.
Quite abruptly he turns from the table and walks across to a nearby wall, against which he props his arm.
“We’ve agreed to keep Rose here to protect her. Maybe it’s her turn to return the favour. Get Rose or her angel to do the job.” Caspar rubs his hands together. “Job done.” He smirks. “By the way, little girl, do you have a family?” he enquires.
“Sort of… I move around a bit, have a foster family…” Brooke replies.
I pick up a southern accent, London perhaps, as I watch her cower in her seat.
“Even better.” Caspar’s eyes widen. “She won’t be missed.”
“That’s how much you know,” she snaps. “They’re adopting me, so if I don’t go home today they’ll come looking.”
“Don’t count on it. Nobody knows we are here.”
“The taxi driver, he saw us.” She is visibly shaking. “He saw you,” she says, pointing her unsteady finger towards Reggie, then at Bert. “He dropped us off by the fence at the edge of the forest. Mum and Dad, they’re both cops, and if I don’t go home they’ll come looking.”
“Bert, you idiot!” Caspar snarls. “Well, Lucian, what do you think? You’re very quiet all of a sudden.”
I look at Lucian, who still holds his arm against the wall. He turns, allowing me to see the side of his face; he looks pale. I see his chest rise and fall as he takes a couple of deep breaths, at the same time waving his finger towards Caspar. Making no attempt to converse, Lucian walks from the room.
With Lucian’s departure, all eyes turn towards me.
“The girl, Rose, the girl!”
Caspar stands, and with his hand he
ld behind his back he struts around the table. His steps slow and I peer down; his shoes are behind my chair. I hear him sniff.
“You are so lucky,” he tells me, “that my nostrils no longer pick up the scent of suicide and that my teeth no longer sharpen.”
Feeling a sudden unease, my eyes search the dining room for Tristan, though it appears he too has left the room. I jump from my chair as a silver-bladed knife pierces the table before me, only inches from my hand. I watch the blade as it stands and vibrates.
“You want our protection?”
I gaze up as his hazel eyes lower.
“So what’s say you use it?”
He reaches over my shoulder. With the sharp pull of his arm, he draws the blade from the wooden surface, leaving it with an unsightly scar.
Jazlynn shoots to her feet.
“Caspar, leave her alone!” she shouts.
I watch as she throws her arms around her face. My gaze returns to Caspar, whose arm is raised as he swipes his open palm towards her. Tristan storms past. I see his fingers and their force as they lock themselves around Caspar’s wrist.
“In front of me you raise your hand to no one. My suggestion is that you go and see to Lucian, who ails in the library. Or were you all too blind to notice?” he spits.
“Angel, we have not finished here!” Caspar butts in.
“I think we are,” Tristan insists. “Now take yourself and your unwanted opinions to bed,” he snarls.
Throwing Caspar to his knees, he turns and opens his mouth to speak. His attempted words are overshadowed by Tristan’s voice.
“Do I need to remind you of Charles, the mirrors? If I’m provoked, believe me I can do far worse.”
Caspar lifts himself from the ground.
“It’s easy for you, angel, it’s not your existence, your life on the line. You can up and go whenever you please.”