Silver

by Pieslak, Dixie

  “Streets,” Ev said, without looking at me.

  And that was it for conversation. I ran behind the others, which was normal, and stared at Ev, which wasn't normal. However, if he could observe me, I'd return the favor. Eight miles and I came in last on the kick, dripped a little sweat, toweled off and shot Ev a sardonic grin. He noticed and ignored.

  Then straight to coffee, flirting with Allie because it felt good. She took one look at my running shorts and exploded. “Aren't you freezing?”

  “Nah. Been out running and I'm pepped. You know how it is sometimes.” Soft tease from me, flutter from her.

  “My Dad says you're supposed to cool down and change clothes.”

  Her Dad, eh. Best to remember how young she is. I took the coffee home to my landlady's front porch and mentally scrolled through Henna's computer data. Her mother on a buying trip to Hong Kong, several things of no interest, and lyrics to her songs, which I did find interesting. I remembered the journal in her nightstand. Perhaps I should have taken it under the bed with me. Flip through for insight to her soul.

  Shower, dress, then what? Went into Amie's house and chased the cats around for a bit. Good for the chunky critters, even if they weren't thrilled. Cat food, litter box, then what?

  Sometimes one simply needs to get out of the house. Jump on a skateboard or bike or even a horse and feel the air whip and flow, tangling the hair and clearing one's mind.

  An overcast morning with clouds plunging low over the mountains. We had some predawn drizzle and it was trying to rain, but probably wouldn't make it today. Weatherman said a real storm was heading our way though, that would test the love/hate relationship Southern Californians have with wet days.

  I hate to ride in the full brightness of sun, which means not much riding in So Cal. Gray skies were perfect. I hauled Louie’s motorcycle out of the back shed, verified the gasoline level, hit the starter and, disdaining the legally required helmet, roared off towards Mountain Road in nearby Upland.

  Minutes later I had left houses behind and was leaning through the wide curves that lead up into the mountains towards the small town of Mt. Baldy. It wasn’t the town I wanted, but vibrating fury of the ride itself.

  I deliberately opened up, riding faster than was wise, letting the speed and the adrenaline build. Dangerous? Oh yeah, an incredible addiction I usually avoid. There was no avoidance on this ride. Today I courted loosened control and angled the bike as the road narrowed. My vamp was eager, so the dark side me took over. Seemed to be doing that a lot lately. I smiled with vicious excitement, an expression no human would wish to see.

  This road was blasted out of the mountain. Rough bouldered slopes rose on one side with steep canyons falling away on the other. Because of the curves, visibility was limited in the best of weather and I squinted through the thick mist. No fallen rocks to dodge. No scampering animals, no on coming cars, which at this speed and me crossing repeatedly over the line - would have been interesting.

  The damp penetrated and I took it in, enjoying the extra punch. Clouds thickened and curves increased. Speed limit signs almost screamed their warnings at me. Biting wind whipped past my face and under my shirt and through my soul. The bike fought for traction, here smooth, there shaking. I closed off all thought and lost myself to the ride.

  Eventually, on a gentler curve, I spotted a vista point and with a whoop I wheeled into a gravel spitting turn. Perfect. No view today since this spot was literally in the clouds, but I sat on a boulder and looked out anyway. The emptiness spread below me, impossible to see anything, even with my rather extraordinary vision. Isolation was extreme - absolute aloneness of the boulder with me slumped on it, deep in thought.

  I've controlled my time in Claremont so tightly my human side has become vaguely bored and I - the darker, best me - was beyond bored. Most of my life has been filled with questing and dodging, seeking the battle and relishing the win. After years of pursuing rationality in a world of emotional twists and turns, human me craved something more purely cerebral. So, a move to scholarly Claremont. Louie shrugged and came along.

  I thought about my friend and his current love interest, Yvonne. Older than he, as he prefers a woman with life experiences. This one he met while line dancing in Temecula. I cringed at the image of that cavalier Frenchman line dancing.

  Thinking of Louie both stirs me up and calms me down and I realized my irritation towards Henna was gone. I was captivated, yes, fully intrigued, too. But no sensing her presence this far away and the clean air was pacifying. Humph. I still wanted to bite her.

  I stood and stretched then relaxed on the hard stone again. I pictured her face, long hair loose, hair up with bared neck, hair blowing - then shook my head in exasperation, never having actually seen her long hair blowing.

  I whistled loud, heard the echo and paced out a slow yell. “Get a grip. Get information. And get Henna, too.” My voice echoed and my human side rose with a hard shove and I was thrust from the top rung of the hierarchy ladder.

  Human me pictured Henna stepping off the platform and moving through the Tavern. Again I saw her harsh glances my way, could almost see her unlock the car and check before she drove off. Looking for me? Perhaps. If so, she didn’t look hard enough because I was there. All the way up to her house I was there. Not to mention in her room, fingers flicking through her life.

  This girl, this guitar playing singer, wasn't safe for me, the way she so thoroughly messed up my head. Yes, spying must continue. I haven't checked her out on the internet, and there was Kyler. Don't want him sniffing around her with his testosterone all afire. He has to go. Easy enough to take care of that tonight when he leaves the Tavern. Wednesday Henna sings and I'll introduce myself to her.

  I relaxed too much and like tennis with champion players, my two selves volleyed and the dark side reclaimed control. I leaped across to the next boulder and bellowed as loud as I could into the thick clouds.

  “Play your best card, Henna Landau. My name is Brecken and I'll be right there, just out of sight and maybe in your face and at that lovely neck. Play your games. There's no getting away from me.”

  An echo seconded my words and I imagined her catching a vague sound and knowing herself to be under surveillance. Would she worry? We'll find out, because want it not, she was going to deal one on one with me. Stand in front of her or slip up behind and bump into her. But meet we would, and then we’ll see who twitches and who doesn’t.

  Chapter 11

  “Kyler,” I spat sourly. “I don’t like him.” Eavesdropping is second nature for a vamp, so I stood outside the Tavern and listened to Kyler boast. He was interested in Henna and full of himself over their pizza date. The twerp was a light weight, immature and flighty, nowhere near her league. I specifically didn’t like the way he talked about her looks and body. He was a typical horny male and the idea of him close to Henna made me burn.

  I wanted to know everything they talked about, everything he thought or knew. Then I would stifle all his ideas about pursuing her. That meant getting up close and personal, with no one else around. No harm, no damage, just a little kidnapping of his trash talking mind. If need be I’d postpone meeting Henna while I plundered Kyler’s thoughts. A day or two more wouldn’t make any difference.

  Apparently she's held her odd energy close today. I could have probed and located her, but chose to satisfy my frustrated aggression with a little cat chase for fun. Well I had fun, anyway. Left them extra food as a reward for the hunt, sure that they would interpret food as victory. I certainly do.

  Henna doesn't work on Tuesdays but she showed up. My energy tucked tight, I crouched behind a car and watched her look around then go inside. Should have done it this way from the start, but I harbored a Machiavellian wish for her to know she's watched.

  Through a window I watched Kyler speak to Henna before she went down the hall to the lady's room. It seemed obvious that something was gnawing at her. That blob Kyler, perhaps? She left after two of his sets and when
he departed, I departed with him.

  He headed east along Foothill Boulevard. At one red light I pulled alongside. He was bobbing his head to music and playing his stupid fingers on the dash. Didn’t look my way at all, idiot jerk. Twenty minutes and he pulled up to an apartment complex in the foothills of Alta Loma. Plenty of cars along the curbs and no people out in the cold. No one walking their dog or watering their daisies. No parked lovers and no one skulking.

  Well, maybe one.

  When he stepped out of his car, I was there. He gave a startled “Hey” and my will slid into his mind. Just like that he was mine. My dark self thought food. Nope, not from this one.

  “Be quiet and come with me,” I ordered and led him to my car. “Get in.” No surprise he did just that.

  I didn’t plan to take long with Kyler, only steal half an hour of his petty life and all of his smarmy thoughts. The entire Inland Empire is ringed with undeveloped foothills so the choice was simple. I drove him into the native foliage above Alta Loma.

  He followed me through the brush until I found an open space well off the road.

  “Sit, Kyler.”

  His shoes were dirty and plant crap stuck to his pants. I was glad. Let him try and explain to himself and anyone else. He shivered as the cold wormed under his clothes. It wouldn't kill him, so fine with me. I squatted and plied him with questions and didn’t learn much, except that he was a hormone obsessed male.

  Meh. What’s new? So am I.

  Under compulsion he talked freely, telling me about Henna and music, Henna and work, Henna and pizza. But I wasn’t finished with my manipulations. When I compelled the thought that she wasn’t for him, he agreed easily, eyes lowered. I wanted to erase all sexual thoughts from his brain but that would take longer and was exceedingly difficult to do. I settled for making him feel inferiority and a strong desire to work in some other town. Not fair to him, but no harm and just a touch of foul.

  I dropped him back at his vehicle. “It's late, Kyler. You were tired and dozed off in your car. Time to go in.” I moved my car up the street and waited while he trudged along the sidewalk then up a stretch of stairs and let himself into an apartment. Lights flicked on and I left, one intruding male scratched from the board.

  Wednesday after running I called the hospital to check on Amie, who wasn't doing well, poor gal. It’s rough to be healthy and independent then suddenly be hospitalized, but perhaps a few surprise photos of her cats would please her. I took half a dozen and cringed. Good for a spooky Halloween and not much else. After twenty minutes I managed half a dozen that showed apparently happy pussy cats, printed them out and drove to the hospital.

  Amie's daughter had flown in from the Hawaii with flowers and a packaged pineapple. When I handed her the pictures, Amie clapped in delight and promptly gave the pineapple to me. I chatted with her for two hours and ended up sucking out the dripping pineapple juice, which tasted just like it did on my one trip to Maui, way back when. I don’t like sweet but there was an undertone of acidic that played the devil with my mouth and I made appropriate faces and lip smacks just to see Amie's tired face smile.

  I was determined to introduce myself to Henna this evening. My way was clear - be friendly, mildly flirtatious and openly admiring. And careful. Only human Brecken would show up tonight, wreathed in beautiful colors, vampire black obscured.

  Should be easy but I couldn't help mulling over the plan. Arrive and get situated before she walked in. Tighten down vamp energy, try not to stare, be attentive to her music, try harder not to stare. And no squirming. Order a glass of wine, nod at a few people, clap appreciatively and invite Henna to join me during her break.

  It was leather jacket weather and I had several. I chose expensive so she'd see a guy who was going somewhere in this world. Such details matter to most women and I wanted to appear desirable, even irresistible. I knew it was ego, but I also know how to meet females and first impressions count. Not that this would be her first impression, but erasing that other memory would be simple, if need be.

  Important however to keep my barriers high, sheltering her from the connection so evident between us. She's already noticed something, sure, but I wouldn’t do anything startling tonight. Smile, suck in vibes and hide in open sight.

  In the meantime, give it a break with the tension. Try to relax. Pretend there was no sensation crawling around my chest. No ripples under my skin. Rain splattered on the roof. I banished Henna from my head, fingered the stolen earring and waited for the hours to pass.

  Chapter 12

  Henna

  With a quick wave bye to my cousin, I sped as fast as I could to the Tavern. I parked and pulled my guitar from the back seat. There were a dozen cars in the lot already and I felt a twinge of worry because it was late, so I rushed across the parking lot, a happy greeting on my face to show the boss I was hot to go. The greeting disappeared when I pushed through the door. That guy was there, sitting in a booth near my platform and I hadn't felt him from outside. Suddenly I worried about that. But no, I sense him now and it made me cringe inside, dang it. Ignore him.

  Jeff frowned at his watch. “No time for hot tea, Henna. You're on.”

  “Okay,” I nodded, hiding my upset at stalker guy. “I'll take tea at my break. Sorry I'm late.”

  “Yeah. Kyler's night off, remember? Stage is ready. Just get up there.”

  I wanting to ask Jeff about the guy but there was no time. Wednesday is a big college night and everyone clapped when I stepped up with my guitar. The stranger clapped, too, again and again as I ignored his presence and made my way through the first set.

  Break arrived and I dipped my head as a quickie thank you to the patrons, but I didn't look at the guy, although I noticed he never took his eyes off me. What could I do? Enough was enough. I felt pissed and I remembered my vow to confront. Why not here, where it was safe? Be strong. I leaned my guitar against the stool and turned to his booth.

  He smiled all friendly like, but he must have read my face because the smile faded. Nice that I could erase his fake niceness. I stopped close in front of him and he tried to stand up, but something seemed to push him back in his seat. That something was me. He looked shocked and he should, because I was shoving with every bit of energy I had.

  I challenged him in a voice too loud and angry. “Who are you and why are you following me?” I wanted someone besides him to hear me, but Jeff had turned on music and it was blasting. The stranger heard me all right though. Fool, I thought. I’ve caught you. “Hey. Do you speak or just stalk people like a sicko?”

  Silence. I raised my voice, sharpened to slice deep and finish off this charade. “I know it was you in Venice Beach so don't bother to deny. I felt it.”

  “Felt it?” His eyebrows arched, a half smile on his lips. He was too gorgeous, dang it. “I don't understand, Henna. What is it that you feel?”

  Ha. The creep was trying to fake it again. Great, at least I knew his game. But his voice stroked like warm velvet. I shook back my hair to clear my head.

  “You were in Venice and you followed me here. Well no more, mister. If you don’t leave me alone, I’m going to the police and file a restraining order.” I wasn’t sure I could do that with zero evidence except the recognizable energy he put off. Probably that wouldn't hold up legally. Still, the threat sounded good and now he knew that I knew.

  He gave me a confused frown. “Henna, you must have me mixed up with someone else.”

  Ooh, definitely velvet. My chin jerked at him. “No, it was you.”

  “Henna, I like your music. It has … an energy that pulls me in. But I haven't followed you. I only saw you for the first time last weekend.” Not just velvet. Soft silk, caressing and inviting. He gestured at a chair. “Take a seat, let’s talk. My name is Brecken.”

  I caught myself swaying. The guy seemed so sure of himself that I wanted to hit him. He was my stalker. I knew it. The feel of him was undeniable. Yet, he wasn't bothered that I yelled and - oh, geez - the creep has
a fabulous smile.

  “Please, Henna, join me for a mug of hot tea.”

  Ah ha! “See? You have been watching me. You know what I drink here.” A pitiful accusation but done is done and dang, the guy oozed charm. I could barely breathe.

  He glanced at the bar. “I heard Jeff mention tea and I don't deny watching you.” He looked at me through long lashes. “Everyone watches you, Henna. Your music has depth and well, I find you attractive. But beyond here I don’t know anything about you.” More silky charm and I felt myself sway again. “Please, sit down and tell me about Venice and why in the world you believe I’m that same person.”

  Resist, Henna. He's dangerous. I stood in my strong stance, hands on hips, and believed he was exactly that same person. So why did I feel like I was trying to convince myself? And why wouldn’t he leave? I couldn’t force him to. The bouncer would do it if this guy caused trouble, but he wasn’t. So I stuck my finger in his face.

  “I know who you are and if you don’t leave me alone, you're going to regret it.”

  He was warned and silence stretched between us. I did the only thing left. I spun around and marched straight to the lady's room and curled up on the bench and tried to breathe. A girl came in and squealed to see me. Her talking helped me breathe and she walked out with me and that helped, too.

  The rest of the night was a little better. The college crowd gave me full attention and when the stranger stood to leave I refused to even glance his way. But his image hounded me. With my eyes closed, I saw his eyes wide in surprise, green with the dark green circle around the iris. His hair - I'd stood close enough to notice how it fell over the side of his face. His jaw line, the strength I saw there, the silky invitation to sit and talk. His confusion, his smile ....

  I was disgusting. Okay, I told myself, cancel asking Jeff about the guy, but if he showed again I'd let him have it with sparks flying. Tonight was nothing. No more fretting and walking around, looking over my shoulder, suspicious of everything. This isn't Venice and I wouldn't run again. Action was the key. Uhh, and the police, if it came to that.