Sanguine Mountain

by Jennifer Foxcroft

  “Look at those tattoos. He’s the real deal.” Tiff is openly watching the couple across the street. Customers forgotten. “Oh. My. God.”

  I hand over the hotdog and change to the blond dude I’m serving and look again. Little Miss Glitterbug stands on tippy toes and pulls him down for a kiss. The guy—who looks alarmingly like Rocks, except the full sleeve tats that cover both arms mean it absolutely, positively cannot be Rocks—jerks back at first. Glitterbug knows what she wants and grabs his—oh, hell no—vest to pull him in for another go.

  “Hot damn. You go for it girl!”

  “Is he wearing a vest?” I blink my eyes. I can’t be seeing this right. My body is reacting to the possibility that Rocks is in close range. My heart pounds hard knowing he’s not a threat. A chance to make up for my bad behavior is all I’m after. He saved me that night in the forest, and all I’ve done is insult him.

  “Yeah, leather too by the looks. Uh, I love guys in leather. Why don’t high school boys wear leather? It’s not fair.” Tiff pouts. Tiff spends way too much time lost in her mother’s adult fiction. I’m convinced she has a seriously screwed up idea of real relationships as a result.

  Kneeling down under the counter, I grab the napkins and straws to restock the holders. I can’t watch. That guy’s body is so similar to Rocks’ body. The idea of Rocks with another girl—stop! When did it become another girl? I was never his girl, but I was his human. Was. But I didn’t want to be at the time. Oh, sugarplums.

  “Get up here. You’re missing all the good stuff. There’s some serious grinding going on. What I wouldn’t give for a bit of that action.”

  “Grinding? Grinding?” Even I can hear the touch of hysteria in my voice. Tiff’s brow furrows. I’m on my knees clutching her leg with both hands.

  “Settle, petal.” Tiff looks back at the spectacle across the street. “Okay, so not really grinding. No grinding. Just kissing. Happy?” She pouts.

  “I thought you were describing what was going on over there, and you’re just describing what’s playing out in your head!”

  “So? If I described what is actually happening, it wouldn’t be half as exciting. She’s kissing him and he’s kinda hesitant I guess. Hesitant ain’t sexy.”

  “You need to stop reading those books.” I let go of her leg and settle back down on the floor. She smiles and shrugs. That look in her eye indicates she’s lost within the pages of one of them.

  Tiff suddenly flicks her light brown hair over her shoulder. She straightens her shirt and puffs her chest up.

  “Oh, God,” I mutter. My fingers are shaking and I miss the container. The straws go rolling over the floor. I’m such a chicken. I want to see him but not with his new human. “Whoops. I’ll just fix this mess.” The unmistakable sound of stiletto heels clicking on the asphalt echoes in through our serving window.

  “Two dogs with onions please,” a chirpy female voices requests.

  “Absolutely.” Tiff is a smiling statue.

  “Should I pay first?” the woman asks, trying to trigger some action. I imagine my stunned co-worker has confused her.

  Tiff blinks. “Oh, no, you can pay Connie. I’ll get the dogs.” She knocks me with the side of her sneaker.

  Fudge!

  I take a deep breath, still out of sight. Tiff is away from the serving window and is gesturing wildly for me to look at the ‘hottie’ outside. It might not be Rocks. It might not be Rocks. It might not be Rocks. I take a deep breath. If it is Rocks, then I don’t want to see the misery I witnessed in his eyes last time.

  Popping up from my hiding spot, I spy the dark-haired woman in the shiny dress and Rocks. Rocks is standing in front of me. Fate has returned him to me. I need to raise my white flag and show him that I come in peace. The fear I once felt in his presence has dissolved into curiosity at his supernatural abilities, and I have a chance to show him that I don’t think he’s weird. All I care about is making him see that he does belong in this world. And maybe we can find the answers together.

  His hair is slightly damp and sticking to his forehead. It allows me to see his eyes. The touch of pink in his cheeks I assume is from dancing. The short-sleeved fitted t-shirt covered with a black leather vest outlines his chest. His bare arms look incredible. They’re covered from the wrist up in intricate black and grey patterns and swirls. I find myself wanting to stare at them, but I can’t resist his face.

  The instant Rocks recognizes me his eyes light up for a second before he looks at his feet. But after a moment, he gives me his unsure little smile. My ears burn. I smile back, hoping it conveys how sorry I am. He’s not angry. I could fly. This boy has every reason to be pissed at me, but he’s standing there smiling.

  Tiff is back at my side as I take the money. “So one for you.” She hands the woman one hotdog. “And one for you.” Tiff curls her index finger indicating for Rocks to come closer. The woman doesn’t seem fazed by Tiff’s interactions and squirts mustard on her hotdog before walking back toward the curb. He steps up slowly, his eyes staying fixed on mine. Tiff hands over the biggest hotdog I’ve ever seen. She must have gone digging through the mother lode for that giant.

  I bite my lip to hold in a giggle as I watch Rocks’ eyes widen in delight. “Wow,” he says. “Thank you very much, Miss.”

  Tiff makes a revoltingly girlie sound, and I can only empathize with her. Rocks hasn’t moved from the window. The feast he’s holding like it’s sacred with both hands mesmerizes him. He studies the hotdog closely, and I’m guessing it’s his first one. When he licks his lips, I feel Tiff fidget.

  I lean over the counter to get closer. “These sauces make it even better. This is ketchup—an all American favorite that’s a sweet tomato flavor.” I don’t care if the people lining up behind him think I’m nuts; I’m going to help him discover a real American fast food, and I’m going to do it right. I describe the taste of the other three sauces and wish I had more to say when I’m done. It’s not the apology that I wanted him to hear. “I like loads of ketchup with a bit of mustard.”

  Rocks’ dark eyes never leave mine. “I appreciate the lesson. Thank you.” He steps to the side so the next guy can place his order. I watch him douse his dog with precision. It’s a work of red and yellow art by the time he’s done. He follows the woman back over to the club. The last thing I hear is his delighted moan, and it leaves me grinning from ear to ear.

  * * * * *

  Late Saturday morning, I float into the kitchen.

  “Hon, did you hear that the police have arrested two key players in The Vipers gang. Doesn’t say who they are yet. I doubt it will be their boss though.” Dad is reading the headlines. Mom is placing the third layer of her death by chocolate cake into place. Before I started my mutiny, I often admired how easy they made marriage seem. “It says they’ve got a key witness to the murder of those two officers last year.”

  Mom V2.0 notices as I place a kiss on Mini’s head. “Nee,” Mini says, showing her gap-toothed grin.

  “Hi, sweetheart. How was work?” I want to cringe. As awful as I’ve been to them, she seems like she genuinely wants to know. I look at her for a moment. This woman loves a child that isn’t her own blood. Her generous heart makes me cringe, but I can’t think about this because for the first time in weeks, I’m on a high.

  “Awesome.” I steal a massive finger load of frosting on my way to the fridge.

  “You’ll remember to lock that van door after you arrive, won’t you?” Dad V2.0 has done recon. Impressive. Okay, so maybe he still is my hero. I smile at him, and for the first time in three weeks, I don’t have to pretend. As parents go, or even as people who raised a kid they were given, I’m really lucky. That’s what’s making this deception so freaking hard.

  “Tiff’s gonna give me a ride home tonight. Parking sucks.”

  “Can’t tell you how relieved I am that you decided not to walk at that hour. And it’s probably a good idea that Tiff isn’t alone when she heads to her car,” he says. If it weren�
�t so late I would walk home, as it’s not that far. But if riding with Tiff makes him happy, I’m not going to rock the boat. I want this job.

  * * * * *

  I’m at the Bun Lovin’ Barn before Tiff has had a chance to unlock.

  “Someone’s keen. You don’t need to be here for another hour yet.” I grab the top two trays of buns she’s carrying up from her car and shrug.

  “It was fun.”

  She grins. “I’m on to you, Connie Phillips. You just want to sit outside and enjoy the perv fest before you start.”

  I’m praying that Rocks comes back. He knows I work here, and if he’s still in the market for a human buddy, then I want a shot at the title. Sitting on a crate at the back of the van, I scan the street for raven-haired, leather-wearing, lean giants. Nothing. Disappointment seeps through my system as I drag my feet up the steps to start a little early. Tiff is dog diving—there is no other way to describe it. With tongs in hand, she’s fishing around the enormous pot, separating the wieners.

  “What are you doing?”

  She jumps. “Finding the prize dogs.”

  “For?”

  “Hot guys. Didn’t I tell you that yesterday?” She looks genuinely horrified. I shake my head. “This pot is for the guys you want to return. This pot is for everyone else.”

  “Aren’t hotdogs the same size?”

  “Surprisingly, no.”

  Tiff definitely gets points for effort. That girl doesn’t do anything by accident.

  An hour later, I’m zoning out while Tiff tells me about the hottest book she’s ever read. It sounds very much like the last four books she described to me, but I refrain from mentioning that fact. I continue to scan the sidewalk since we don’t have any customers and that’s when he appears.

  Rocks swaggers up to the van. He’s dressed like I’m accustomed to; a dark grey long-sleeved dress shirt and vest, but the vest is one I haven’t seen before. Thick, soft black velvet with antique silver buttons that set off the silver watch chain perfectly. Tiff has stopped speaking, and when I look at her, she’s standing with her mouth hanging open. Rocks’ mouth twitches a little and he flicks his hair out of his eyes.

  “Good evening, ladies.”

  “Well, hello.” Tiff recovers fast.

  “I’m Rocks.” He extends his hand up through the order window. Tiff shakes it with delight and introduces us. I’m glad he’s playing along and maybe this is a new start for us.

  “Are you hungry?” I ask after letting go of his hand. I’m giddy at the thought of getting a shot at the title after all.

  “Famished. I want it all.” He gestures to all the jars, condiments and toppings we have on the counter. His eyes seem to sparkle.

  All these flavors are not a good idea. Tiff is confused. “All of it?” she confirms.

  “Please.” He nods.

  “Um, if I may suggest something. That’s a lot of flavors. How about we both make you our favorite combo to try.” Rocks agrees without hesitation. Tiff is a barbeque sauce, bacon and cheese fan while I’m a sauerkraut, mustard and pickles lover. Since he’s already done onions, I’m sure we’ll create two delicious new feasts.

  One thing I’m becoming addicted to is seeing the look on Rocks’ face when he lays his eyes on a new food sensation and promptly devours it. Mini at Christmas time has nothing on him. It’s pure untarnished delight. Eyeing both dogs, he’s faced with a huge dilemma—which to taste first. When he goes to hand over a stack of wrinkled dollar bills, I shake my head.

  “I must pay.”

  “Not for these. It’s my treat.” Tiff nods a little too enthusiastically. I know she’s adding this to her list of how-to-get-hottie-repeat-business tricks.

  Placing a hand over his heart, he looks at us. “Connie. Tiffany. Thank you ever so much. I will enjoy every morsel you have prepared for me.” And that he does. Rocks repays our kindness by standing at the counter and letting us share his new appreciation for barbeque sauce, bacon and sauerkraut. Once he finishes devouring them, he heads over the road to dance until one a.m. He’s offered to walk me home, and if I thought Tiff was excited by Parker Reed knowing my name, that was nothing in comparison to Rocks offering to be my escort. When I catch her humming the wedding march, I punch her arm.

  Tiff is looking at me with dreamy eyes and a smile that actually has me nervous. But on second inspection, she’s not really focusing on anything. She sighs, “Oh, Rocks, just who is it you remind me of?”

  Oh no, I know that look and can tell she’s trolling through her book boyfriends.

  “’Miss Connie,’” she imitates. “’Would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you home this evening?’ Bless the Lord up above! Even your cold heart had to have melted with that.”

  The rest of my shift flies past in a whirl of excited anticipation and slightly freaked out apprehension. Rocks is a bat, and it’s easy to forget that when he’s standing in a velvet vest eating hotdogs. And not just any bat, but a blood-drinking vampire bat. I take a massive sip of lemonade. Sugar is my friend.

  Clean up is fast and easy with Tiff at the helm. She’s so organized that her methods and precision would be a little daunting if she wasn’t my best friend. The last thing she does is prepare two sweet iced teas. “For the walk.” I love her work.

  Rocks is waiting in the shadows of the trees that line the sidewalk when we emerge from the van. His hair is shiny and damp. He tries to brush it aside with his fingers. “Sorry, I’m a bit hot.”

  I can’t stop my grin. I hand him the drink and receive the shy smile—my favorite. His eyes widen when the sweetness hits hit tongue.

  “Sweet iced tea.”

  “New favorite.”

  I laugh as we start to walk along. His appreciation for things I take for granted is starting to warm my cold heart. I like it—a lot—but I’d never tell Tiff. “I think your list of favorites is getting pretty long.”

  He hasn’t stopped drinking and nods, smiling around the straw. I’m aware of his height again and the distance between our bodies. I don’t know what to do with my hand that’s nearest to him. My body remembers our last walk in the dark. Almost as though Rocks can read my mind, he offers me his elbow. Without a word, I place my hand in the crook of his arm and exhale.

  His straw sucking air is the first sound for a whole block. I hand over my cup and he graciously accepts it.

  “You aren’t scared anymore?” I can’t figure out his tone. Guarded?

  “You said you wouldn’t hurt me and I believe you.” It’s not a lie. I don’t ever want to lie to Rocks.

  “But you’re scared?”

  “How do you do that? Special bat psychic abilities?” I half laugh. It better not be.

  “No, I just listen. My senses keep me alive. I trust what I feel.” The way he speaks with such earnest conviction makes me a little uncomfortable. I don’t know anyone else like this, and I feel myself wanting to mirror his style—to tell only the truth. That thought pulls my gut in two different directions.

  “I’m a little scared.” I feel the muscle in his arm tighten. “But only of what I don’t know. It’s a lot to take in.” He relaxes under my fingers and nods.

  “You can ask me anything, Connie. That night I flipped—”

  “Flipped?”

  “It’s what we call it when we change. I flip between human and bat,” he explains. It doesn’t sound so scary. “That night I didn’t mean to flip on you like that. Sometimes, I can’t control it. I want to apologize for frightening you and abandoning you when you needed my assistance.” He looks into my eyes for a moment and we stop walking. “I’m truly sorry.”

  “Rocks, you have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one that’s sorry. I’m sorry I screamed and threw things at you and splashed you with holy water.” Not one of my finest moments. “I’m sorry I thought you’d eat me and Mini.” I can’t look at him. My behavior was shameful.

  “Please don’t feel bad,” he says quietly. I meet his eyes. They’re so dark
but look so gentle. “I don’t have much experience being friends with an aeronaught—just a human, I mean. I’m just so grateful that you’re giving me a chance. Helping me learn”—he gestures to the tea—“while you can.”

  “Rocks, listen to me. I’m in.” Just like Mini, when I listen to my heart, I know he’s a good guy, and I can’t cope with all the secrets on my own. “Together we’ll work it out—who I am and where you belong.”

  Rocks is the one to look away. His eyes begin to glisten and he shakes his head. I think he’s trying to hide behind his hair, but it’s still damp and stuck in place. We start to walk once more in silence. He drinks his tea, and I don’t disturb him. What I’m learning about Rocks—the flying vampire bat boy—is that he’s the biggest softy of all time.

  When my house is within sight, I ask the one question I’m dying to know. “So you’re a shape-shifter then? Shape-shifters are real.”

  Rocks turns and shakes his head. “No. Five hundred years ago, my ancestors were just human like you.”

  “Huh?” I can tell this conversation is going to take a while, so I tug on his elbow and pull Rocks back toward Garden Hills Park. There’s no way in hell I’ll sleep tonight without more answers. “What do you mean ‘human like me?’”

  “I’m not supposed to tell.” He looks up at the sky with a wistful longing, and I wonder if he’s wishing he were gliding past the stars instead of being quizzed by me.

  I don’t know this boy with abilities I thought were impossible, but the connection I felt to him in the forest stirs in my chest. “I trust you won’t tell my parents I know I’m adopted.”

  He snorts and looks at me smiling. “Definitely will not be doing that.” The smile fades and Rocks stares at me. I don’t know what his searching eyes are looking for or what they’re seeing. “I trust you. We both have secrets, and we both don’t know where we really belong.” He takes my hand in his and settles back on the bench next to me. “Back in the 1520s, my ancestors were simple villagers in Mexico—”