Silver

by Pieslak, Dixie

  “Sure,” I got off the bed and strolled into the living room.

  “Is now okay? I can find your place.”

  “Yeah, right. I can feel you outside, Conor.”

  He darted through the door and fell heavily into the armchair, looking as though he carried the weight of humanity on his shoulders. I stood casually in front of him, but there was nothing casual about the anguish on his face.

  “I’m stealing,” he blurted.

  I spluttered and almost doubled over laughing. He was offended and I looked up to see him glaring angrily out of those bright, blue eyes.

  Conor had the kind of Nordic face that appeared all American innocent, but appearances can be deceiving. A thoroughly dangerous guy was sitting in my chair and I needed to help him get a grip on that quick temper. And help his emerging vamp slither back under.

  “Sorry, Conor. I don’t know what I expected, but theft sure wasn’t it.” I stepped back a pace to give him psychological space.

  “What was so funny?” he growled, his eyes blazing resentment at me.

  Conor’s muscles were coiled, ready to avenge some perceived insult. “Funny is the idea that you worry about stealing. You worried enough to come here. You steal things? Okay, I get that, but so do the rest of us. I just didn’t realize that was your big problem.”

  He was aghast at my words. “We all steal?” His eyes narrowed. “All of us?”

  “Right from the start. Most never stop.”

  “You, too?” he snapped.

  “No.” Hmm, the earring. “Well, mostly no.” I watched him take that in. The glare faded and human Conor looked at me from those same blue eyes. “Short temper you have, vamp,” I said mildly.

  “I don’t like being laughed at.” His fingers squeezed the arm of the chair.

  “Fair enough. Sorry about that. And you work on remembering that I’m a friend. I don’t like being challenged in my own home.”

  “I didn’t challenge you.” Double squeeze.

  “Next thing to it,” I said sharply.

  I moved across from him, keeping a wary distance between us. Taking down a neophyte wasn’t on my list of things to do today, so I gave him space. “This isn’t a spitting contest. Don’t get your whatever in a wad. You asked to talk, I said yes, I pissed you off and apologized. That’s all.”

  He took a deep breath. “Okay.” His fingers squeezed again, then he spread his fingers. “Sorry I lost my head. It's just so hard sometimes.” He breathed deep again.

  “Right.” I studied him, judging his cool. “What did you steal?”

  “Money. Candy. Magazines.” He spotted my surprise. “They're for my sister.”

  “Is Crystal hurting for cash?”

  Conor squirmed. “Not really. I just want to give her things, you know? It’s been months, but I can’t forget that I bit her.”

  “Feeling guilty?”

  “Wouldn’t you?” He examined me. “Huh, maybe not. But I do. I give her stuff every time I see her.” His eyes wavered. “She doesn’t know I steal it.”

  “Doesn't Jeff pay you?”

  “Part time at the Tavern doesn't even cover the motel.”

  I stepped closer, staring him straight in the face. “Conor, it’s a total waste feeling guilt. You were starving and you bit her. Natural. You are what you are and you told me she understood.” He looked miserable. “You can’t buy peace of mind, Conor. You can’t get it by giving her taffy.”

  “Chocolates,” he mumbled.

  ”Russian caviar, for all I care. Gifts don’t erase guilt. Give her a box of fudge. Give her a car. Doesn’t matter. You can’t get peace that way.”

  “So how do I get it?” He stretched his legs out and dropped his head. It reminded me of Logan and his infernal depression.

  “Conor, look at me. You’ll never be at peace until you're okay with what you are. Accept yourself, good and bad. Love yourself,” I said. “Love both selves. Accept your mistakes and move on. Humans do it all the time and we’re no different.”

  “Humans don’t bite their sisters.”

  “No,” I said. “But they bicker and back stab and walk out on family. Mind you, those aren’t the criminals. Just the normal people dealing with life. People lie and cheat and take unfair advantage. They stretch the rules. They break the rules.” His eyes were on me. “And people steal, Conor. Give her candy if you feel like it, but do it to make her smile, not to buy favor that you already have. Forgive yourself, newbie. Your sister did.”

  “You know a lot about this stuff. How do you work your relationships?”

  “I don’t.” He looked at me, disbelief obvious. “I don't have family like you do.” Henna? “No relationships, Conor, except my roommate.”

  His shoulders jerked. “You have a roommate?” He glanced towards the short hall.

  “Not a human. And he’s away right now.”

  “You live with another vampire? You never told me that.”

  “I’m telling you now. One of the bedrooms is his.”

  He was excited. “What’s he like?”

  “He’s like whatever he wants to be like and I’m not talking about him.”

  Conor squinted at me.. “You're mad, aren't you. Too many questions?”

  “Nah. You’re okay.”

  “But I steal, and you don’t.”

  “So quit. For you, theft is pointless. Makes you feel bad and - it’s unbecoming. Why hurt someone needlessly? It’s not your style.”

  “What is my style?”

  “That’s up to you, but I’d guess that you’re the hard working type. It’s one of the good things about you, Conor. Don’t let it slip away because of what you are now.”

  He made a derisive sound. “I’m a vampire. I still can’t believe it, and I’m supposed to be - what? A hard working vampire? Isn’t there any way out of this?”

  I eased to the couch and crossed my feet on the coffee table. “Not really, no.”

  He buried his head in his hands. “My life is hell. I should just die. A stake through the heart.”

  “Nope. Doesn’t work. Your vamp wants to live and heals wounds faster than you can believe. A stake is like a toothpick. Same with garlic and crosses. All myth.”

  He kind of rippled and looked at me. “How can my vamp fix wounds?”

  “Best I can explain is that we automatically control the cells of our bodies. All of us bleed, but damage heals;”

  His eyes widened with a sudden thought. “Does that mean we're immortal?”

  “Close to it.”

  His body slumped. Was he thinking suicide like Logan? It didn’t matter. Conor was changed for eternity and had the right to know.

  “When we drink,” I said, “it absorbs right away, so even one swallow benefits you. A few drops, a tiny lick, it’s all utilized with maximum effectiveness. Any breach of your body will seal fast to prevent loss of blood. Of course, if you’re well fed you can afford to lose quite a bit. But our desire to replace blood loss is overwhelming. Nothing would stand in the way. Nothing.”

  He nodded slowly, riveted on my words. Learning about what his vampire will do to survive? Yes, rather riveting to hear.

  “Have you noticed any of this?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe about the blood drops, because of my sister. She bled and it was on my lips. I couldn’t help licking it off.”

  “Who wouldn’t? And stop frowning every time I give you truth.”

  He blinked a couple of times and rolled his shoulders. “So can we bleed to death or not?”

  I thought of Louie and the deep canal. “Possibly, under extreme circumstances. The worst possible is when you can’t get a source to replenish your loss. That’s almost a non-existent situation, though. Life is everywhere, so blood is everywhere.”

  “What if there aren’t any animals? Or people?”

  “Then why are you bleeding out?”

  “Another vampire? Or a gang of them?” He was excited. “Can people kill us?” He waved his h
and back and forth. “A bullet in the head?”

  “What a lovely conversation, Conor. Contemplating our destruction.”

  He laughed. “I know. But really, can people kill us somehow?”

  “Yes, some of us have been killed by people. Especially recently.”

  He jerked. “Recently? But people don’t even know we’re real.”

  “I was talking about war. Bombs destroy everything, including us. Blast us to bits. No recovery from that. Europe was decimated of our kind in World War II. Nearly the same in the First World War. Both wars, we fled in droves. Headed North, mostly, and a lot of us didn’t make it. Waited too long, didn’t realize the seriousness and stayed for the easy feeding, which was dumb, since feeding is always easy.”

  “No vampires in Europe? I thought that was the one place they'd be. Not in the middle of South Dakota. Or California.”

  “Don’t go overboard,” I laughed. “There are vampires in Europe, Conor. Just not as many as before.”

  “Were you there? In those wars?”

  “Yes, but we aren’t talking about me.”

  “Too many questions again, eh.” He ticked off on his fingers. “Bombs can kill us. And maybe other vampires. Probably dynamite, too. What else? How about that bullet?”

  “You might heal, unless the back of your brain was blown out. Rule of thumb? Avoid all bullets. And blades. If you got knifed you’d need more blood big time, and fast. But with sufficient blood, your cells replace themselves.”

  “Replace?”

  “That’s what cells do, Conor. Scabs form on human wounds and new skin grows. Our repair follows the same principle and we’re remarkably efficient at it. Much better than mortals. But, we’re tied to our original DNA. You remain like you were before you were turned.”

  He thought a moment. “Can we get older? Twenty seven would be good.”

  I shook my head. “Sorry. Most of it is attitude. The clothes you choose, the way you walk. Things like that can make you seem older.”

  It was like talking to a sponge, watching him take in the reality of his life. His smiled, but his youthful mind was racing. “Could a shark kill me?”

  “Aren’t you tired of all this yet?” My shoulders hunched. “The ocean is full of food. And we can't drown. Normally sharks are no threat. Neither is Jonah’s whale or the Loch Ness Monster.”

  “So nothing much is dangerous to us.” His sudden laughter was infectious and I laughed, too.

  “We’re pretty good aren’t we, Brecken? Kind of perfect, in a way.”

  Conor flopped off the chair and literally did a floor spin and a dozen lightening fast push ups. So human - and not so human. He sprawled himself out on the carpet, thoughts soaring. “So if I went bungee jumping and crashed, I’d be okay. How about a plane crash?”

  “Just don’t let that plane explode.”

  “What if my head got cut off?”

  “Cheesh, Conor. Macabre much?”

  “No, really. Would I die then?”

  “Bingo. End of the line. I recommend that you hang on to your head.”

  “Stay away from men with axes?”

  “Yup. Good idea to take him out first. Unless he’s just chopping on a tree.”

  He bolted upright. “You're saying I should kill the guy with the ax?”

  “That’s what any person would do. A cop or someone defending family. We do what we have to in order to survive. You’re not likely to come across a chain saw killer, but if you ever did? Do the world a favor and wipe him out.”

  “Huh. I’d like to be a cop. I guess every kid thinks about being a cop. Didn’t you?”

  “I grew up on a farm like you. All I dreamed about was escape. I got my dream.”

  He turned on his belly and did a few more push ups. “Working out isn’t fun anymore. No challenge.”

  He propped himself on his elbow. “How many of us are there in California?”

  “More than you’d think. Not around here, though. Most of us prefer the bigger cities.”

  “Do they live in houses like this?”

  “Some do. Or in closed up buildings and old warehouses. We sense each other, do protocol and try to get along. For now, you should stay here and learn. Figure out what you want.”

  “I don’t know what I want. I was supposed to take over the farm someday. Maybe I could still do that.”

  “Ahhh, problem.”

  “What?” He sat up, an eager look on his face now. “I could do it. My dad could use the help and I know how to do everything on the farm.”

  “But people know you.”

  He scowled. “I can fake human.”

  “And when you never age? And everyone else does?” I thought about his choices. Conor was a home body. He’d want a real life and that meant heavy duty planning. “How do you spend your time?” I asked. “When you're not performing?”

  “I practice music. Watch a lot of T.V. Look at magazines. Most nights, I go into the hills. I’m not starving hungry, but I want the blood and there's nothing else to do. I watch all the rats and hares and other stuff. I’ve seen deer and tons of lizards. And owls and hawks.”

  “While you’re taking in the scenery, do you think about what to do with your life?”

  “I try not to think at all. Makes me miss my folks. Crystal comes to my room when she can and sometimes I sit in the mall and watch people. But I’m always worried about biting.”

  I looked at him hard. “Are you tempted?”

  “I think about it. If it gets too bad, I leave and go find a raccoon or something.”

  That puzzled me. “You seem okay at the Tavern, Conor. Lots of people up close. The girls talk to you.”

  “But I know that you’re around. I never stay after singing if you’re not there.” He frowned at me. “Aren't you ever bothered being so close to people? Except Henna, I mean.”

  I stiffened. “Henna is not your business.”

  “Yeah, I know. Weird, though, about her.” Just like that, a rumble was building in my chest. “Man, you look stressed. It’s time for me to go, isn’t it.” He leaped up and stretched. “You have lots of boundaries, Brecken. I don’t mean to cross them.”

  “Just stay out of my personal life. If I wanted to tell you something, I’d do it.”

  “Well, thanks, anyways. How would I ever learn this stuff without you.”

  I wasn’t scowling anymore, but it was good that he was leaving. “Hang in there, guy. I’ll be watching.”

  “I know but I’m glad about that. Remember?”

  Like all of us, Conor sees everything, hears everything. If I watch him, obviously he watches me and naturally, he’s curious about Henna. He can feel her unusual energy, too. I groused at the thought. He spotted how I react around Henna and here he goes telling me I look stressed or something.

  Well, I am stressed. I prickle inside all of the time and every second is uncomfortable and wonderful.

  But the thing is - I want her.

  Conor had left the front door ajar. I karate kicked it shut.

  Chapter 48

  A heat spell had moved in, which meant silky nights with dazzling stars and hot days with dazzling sun, so when Henna mentioned hiking I said “Love to. A morning hike, please, so we don't sweat all over the place.”

  I pulled on a light weight shirt, jeans, boots and a well worn hat from Australia. One with a good brim to block out some of the sun. Guys around here don’t wear hats of that kind and Henna teased me about it unmercifully. She wore shorts and a navy blue Tee, low hiking shoes and great legs.

  We parked and started up the trail, my backpack lugging water bottles, hers, oranges, paquettes of wet towels and my contribution - one lemon. The lush green was dotted with wild flowers. Neither of us have hiked here and we messed around at fantasizing who might have followed this trail in the old days. Not much in the way of shade trees and the sun was already blistering hot. I thought of the lounge and Henna on top of me and fantasized the trail ended in a secluded lodge retreat w
ith shaded pools and expansive beds.

  I upped the pace and she fell back a few steps, her steps dislodging pebbles and dirt on the meandering path. “How long since you've been hiking, Brecken?”

  “Whoo, lemme think. My last real hike was in New Hampshire a couple years back. Louie and I climbed White Mountain with a bunch of other guys.”

  “Fun.” She'd fallen behind. “Did you camp out, sleeping bags and tents?

  I stopped while she caught up. “Not that time. Our group filled a Bed and Breakfast Inn. We trekked all through the local woods dodging moose. Then there was no way we could pass up climbing the highest mountain around.”

  “Was it a hard climb?”

  “Not for two guys who have traversed the Alps.” I winked, she pretended to pout and took the lead.

  Half an hour padding along an easy section, then ten minutes of rocky incline. We were alone in the solitude of nature and Henna was filled with play and when we stopped to check out the view she hauled out a water bottle and squirted it in my face, squealing as I emptied half a bottle back at her. The sun beat hotter and she began to hum.

  “I don't recognize that tune, Henna. What is it?”

  “I don't know yet. Just making it up as I go.” She gave a little skip and marched on. I walked behind her, following the hum like lemmings followed the piper.

  Henna drew me with every word, every laugh. She kept her blocks up, not reaching out with the force that entraps and freezes me; so if I still sizzled inside, it was not from that special power. Beneath the blazing sun, from the darkest depths of my two selves, I sizzled for Henna. Unnoticed, I bathed her in Silver and fell ever deeper into her magnetism.

  To me, it was more of an up and down stroll than a genuine hike, but by the time we neared trail’s end she was dripping sweat and ready for a break. We were completely isolated, no designer lodge with pools. No bed.

  “I can’t believe we’re only a few miles from civilization.” She pulled a fresh bottle of water from my back pack. “You want some?”

  I chugged a few gulps and flipped the bottle back to her.

  We stood surrounded by hills and dips, wild vegetation and several huge rock clusters, one of which was tall enough to provide a patch of shade. That shade invited me, so I eased off my back pack, brushed a spot clear and sat back against the jagged boulder. Henna dropped her pack on a small ledge.