Breach (The Blood Bargain)

by Reeves, Macaela

  Everyone within earshot let out a hearty laugh; Kyle-one of Mark’s work buddies-clapped Mark on the back and demanded he tell another.

  “Alright alright…A man was sitting at home one evening, when the doorbell rang. When he answered the door and a 6 foot tall cockroach-ugly mean son of a gun cockroach-was standing there. The cockroach immediately punched him between the eyes and scampered off.

  Now the next evening…”

  Taking the opportunity as I had heard this one, I snuck up beside the pretty blonde who was nursing the red plastic cup of ale in her hand. “Hey Zoe!” She gave me a big hug.

  “Livy there you are! I was starting to worry you weren’t coming tonight.” She looked me over from head to toe. “Those shoes look better on you it seems.”

  “They do not. Either way, thanks for letting me borrow them.”

  “Then the doc said, there is a nasty bug going around!” Mark hollered at the crowd beside us, causing another wave of drunken laughter. Zoe joined in the merriment, her angelic bells ringing loudly with the rest.

  “It was nice of the Shannon’s to watch the twins tonight for us.” She commented to me. “I admit, after that little episode after the thaw I was quite nervous with letting them out of my sight. Your Dad talked me into it. Said we rarely get the equivalent of a date night any more. Plus this really is our only party of the year. Not like we can catch a new movie every other Friday.”

  “Every once in a while he does have really good advice doesn’t he?” I smirked. Hadn’t seen Dad around yet but I knew as I got over towards the far side he’d be there. The old fed wasn’t much for mead or banquets, but he loved the strum of the guitar and a good beat on the drum.

  “And now I’ll give you some, let’s get you a drink.” Zoe declared, locking her arm through my elbow she led me towards the keg line. We made small talk about the food spread, the music, even a giggle at some of the poorly sewn dresses.

  Speaking of, there was one pretty in pink I couldn’t wait to find. Soon as I got Candice on that dance floor with Rylie I could start to enjoy my evening. It was something I had been thinking about since I put that needle to thread the first time. I could just picture her face, eyes lit up as he took her hand leading her into the crowd. The band would play a slow song, one of those perfect movie rip offs, and the sky would clear. Under the stars they’d twirl by the torchlight until cupid stuck his arrow square in their rear.

  “Zoe, have you seen Candice around?” I asked while we waited our turn.

  “That’s not funny.” Her hard tone brought my gaze back to her face, her light had dropped completely, the small wrinkle lines of motherhood showing around her eyes and mouth from her frown.

  “I didn’t mean it to be funny; I wanted to see if she liked her dress for the party.” I tried to explain casually.

  Zoe slapped me so hard I saw stars.

  “How dare you! Have some respect for the dead.” With that Zoe stalked away from me, her blond ponytail swaying back and forth in a fury.

  Utterly confused, I blinked repeatedly fighting back the reflex eye watering from her strike. What the hell just happened?

  “Here.” Someone shoved a cup full of ale in my hand. “Happy Spring.”

  “Happy Spring.” I parroted back to the smiling man. He paid me a simple compliment on my dress, trying to strike up a conversation. I smiled and made small talk while my eyes scanned the crowd, nerves still settling from the sting on my cheek. I found Zoe again, peaceful Zoe was hugging Mark in the shadows while he rubbed small circles in on her back. His mouth moving, probably speaking words of encouragement to her.

  How could she think Zoe was dead? I had just seen her not…five hours before at lunch?

  No, she hadn’t been at lunch today. Candice was at work.

  I had seen her last night though, before bed. We had talked briefly about how excited she was for tonight. It was her expert hand that had selected my own dress for the evening after all. Zoe had been there, in the room. She had given me the shoes, Candice had been sitting on my bed and-

  “Liv.” The man approaching me was not Cole, but Rylie. He had traded his typical army greens for a pair of slacks and a light grey short sleeve dress shirt that he had skipped the top two buttons on. It was the first time I had seen him out of uniform in a decade. He stopped a casual distance away from me, just out of arm’s length.

  Brushing my hair out of my eyes I forced a smile. “Rylie, hi.”

  Pausing to take a drink from his cup he scanned the crowd along with me. “I admit, I believe I was wrong to avoid hanging about the festival in years past. It does remind me of summer’s back home.”

  “Where were you from?” It had never dawned on me that Rylie had a family or a life...having known him only in service it seemed odd to think of him as a child, but I suppose even Dimitri was a child once.

  “Louisiana. In the spring and summer we’d have barbeques, get the whole town together out at my uncle’s place. He was a big wig in town, owned a construction company. Lots of bonfires like this with country music and moonshine.” Rylie smiled, his eyes distant, reliving an old memory. “We’d dance until we passed out. Wake up covered in hay or mud on the poach with a roaring headache, but it was worth it every time.”

  I laughed. “I’d never have guessed you could dance. Or that you’re from the bayou for that matter.”

  “My accent may have faded, but I still have the moves.” He took my now empty cup from my hand, setting it on the curb along with his own.

  “Mind if I show you?” A big open palm extended to me, his tan skin puckered by a faded scar along his index finger.

  Butterflies in my stomach jumped as I took his hand. Not that I could right out refuse him, I was the one who requested his presence tonight. It wasn’t his fault that Candice was a no-show and Zoe was pulling a twilight zone on me. Forcing a smile I looked up at his dark face while he pulled me close, his thick arm snaking in around to the small of my back. Bluegrass music poured from the band, but we weren’t clogging it up in western boots. He led me around in a lighthearted country dance, spinning me a few times for effect. The stress in my back and tightness in my chest faded away, my grin transformed from forced to free will.

  “Laissez Le Bon Temps Rouler.” He said with a smile as he spun me around, the creole rolling over his tongue with velvet finesse.

  “What?”

  “Let the good times roll.” And they did. In fact, we had so much fun the band had played three songs and we were still twirling hand in hand. In a small corner of my mind I felt bad, one dance was friendly, two was pushing it, but three…three meant a pattern had certainly been established.

  The fourth had just started up when my boyfriend apparently decided he had enough of it. Standing behind us, appearing from nowhere, was Cole Marshall. Dressed in a head to toe black with his dirty blonde hair pulled back he looked like something that fell out of GQ. Well, if GQ had a pissed off edition.

  “Mind if I cut in?” Cole tapped on Rylie’s shoulder, his lighthearted tone not matching his eyes.

  “Sure.” Rylie responded impassively, like whatever macho posturing Cole was doing didn’t faze him in the slightest, he didn’t even glance in his direction, those calculating eyes remained fixed on me. “Thank you for the dance tifi.”

  “I’ve been looking for you all night.” I gave Cole a light hearted smile, kissing his cheek. “Where have you been hiding babe?”

  “What was that about?” Cole hissed while Rylie sauntered off towards the kegs.

  “He asked me to dance, nbd.” Cole’s hands found my hips, his grip a bit tight, our movements to the music mimicking the frustration in his voice.

  “From the rumors I’ve heard tonight I think it is a pretty big deal.”

  “And do you always believe everything you hear? I thought you trusted me.” I paused for a moment to smile-fake smile as I was working myself into a conniption at the moment-and mouth a hello to Sam as she spun by with Ben.

&n
bsp; “I do trust you, but you worry me Liv. You mean so much to me the thought of losing you is just overwhelming, an ache in my chest I can’t ignore.”

  “Well smothering and mistrusting me is not a way to keep me, talk about self-fulfilling prophecies.”

  “I’m not smothering.”

  “You are mistrusting for sure.” It churned my stomach to think that he could believe I’d date Rylie behind his back, no not even behind his back, right in front of his face. Hell, the whole colony’s face.

  We danced awkwardly, my eyes avoiding his whenever they met. His grip on my waist oscillated from too tight to barely a touch, like he didn’t know whether to keep me or flee.

  When the music stopped I’d had enough, I had to get away from him.

  “Look I’m sorry, I didn’t want to ruin the night...can I get you something to drink.”

  “Yeah, that’s fine.” My guy opened his mouth to say something, and then decided against it with a huff. Spinning the clasp on my angel pendant back around my neck I tried to take a few cleansing breaths while he walked away. I had to tell myself that this was not the way he was. That this behavior, erratic and controlling was because he truly cared for me and he worried, that’s all. Cole looked back over his shoulder, shooting me a little half grin before disappearing into the crowd. He was a sight; handsome and strong, fiercely loyal.

  Then why does my chest ache when our eyes meet?

  Standing there alone on the edge of the dance floor my rage seeped from my being, replaced with sadness. Such a lovely evening to have it turn sour. My eyes watched the crowd, not a glum face in the night. Bodies danced, creating their own pattern of waves to match the torch flame. The music bored optimism into our very souls, a Credence Clear Water revival tune. Someone to the left of me shouted out the lyrics, an older woman who had probably had the song on LP thanks to a hand me down record from her mother, her arms wrapped around a man of the same age who held onto her waist with pride.

  A loving couple who had survived the end of the old modern world together as well as the beginning of a new one with as much adoration in their hearts as they had when big hair and eight tracks were the thing.

  Or at least that was the story I was making up.

  Watching them-while meant to improve my mood-did little to cheer me up. I couldn’t see Cole and me, wrinkled and grey, smiling the night away in a loving embrace. It was something I wanted desperately to be a reality, the family, the perfect husband, kids, dog and all the headaches that came with it. It just seemed like we couldn’t get through a week without bickering over some of the stupidest mundane shit.

  It was funny, before the snow fell I had felt we were developing that special bond. The one marked by a capital L. We had been inseparable, absolute. A team united on all fronts. Since we’d been reunited by the thaw it felt like an invisible wedge had been thrust between us that made every small action an insult, and every discussion a war.

  I didn’t think it was him, although it would be very easy for me to blame him. Always easier to point at the other person rather than accept that it might be something internal that was undergoing metamorphosis. If it’s the other persons fault, well then that makes you the victim. The victim always gets it easy. The sympathetic looks, the better luck next times, while the one who decided life wasn’t their cup of tea anymore gets the glares and harsh whispers. Lucky me to draw the glare card. Perhaps it had something to do with the late night visits from Caius. Or more likely, that every time Cole kissed me since we’d reconnected the only thing I could think about was Dimitri.

  Not think. Feel.

  In those moments, it was as though he hadn’t left. That whatever dark place he was in was illuminated by a single candle, allowing me a glimpse of what I’d lost, despite the pain the bright flame brought my eyes.

  Since the first major event by that brick ranch there had been six distinct ‘episodes’ brought on by my proximity to Cole. It made me yearn for his presence for all the wrong reasons, companionship overshadowed by a brief moment of clarity. To know that whatever hell my Dimitri was lost to, he was still alive. Yet at the same time, it made me feel horrid and manipulative to want such a thing. So unapologetically resentful of the entire dramatic.

  Thank you vampnation for the mind screw.

  Cursing, I ran my fingers through my mahogany hair, trying to smooth out the locks that had started to frizz at the ends. Resolved to right things with Cole when he returned with the liquor, I reiterated the play in my mind attempting to find a way to extrapolate on my condition without sending him into a fit of rage.

  Perhaps I needed to wait until he was inebriated to have that talk…

  The band had broken into the blue oyster cult classic don’t fear the reaper when I noticed he was taking an unusually long time to get back.

  I realized there was a shadow looming behind me, tall and wide statured.

  “About time. I was beginning to wonder where you w-“ Behind me was not Cole Marshall, but a man with long hair parted in the middle, hiding most of his facial features under ebony waves that leached into clothing, flesh became night. Handsome and horrid, a living shadow.

  “The man that hath no music in himself, nor is not moved to the concord of sweet sounds is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils.” Ice white gaze of his was locked on a man standing on the edge of the revelry, a wallflower drinking ale.

  “Shakespeare?” I murmured.

  “Come to my home after your celebration. I have something to discuss with you.” He spoke to me quickly, his voice a thickly accented whisper.

  “Caius, what?”

  He was gone.

  Searching in all directions my eyes probed the blackness beyond the torchlight, his words bringing a strange waves of dread and anticipation to my already befuddled mood.

  “Liv. Here hun.” Cole Marshall extended a cup of ale in front of my face. “You okay? Look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Yeah.” I lied, taking a large sip from the cup he handed me. “I am perfectly fine.”

  “Well I hope so, you’re going to need all the amount of fine and patience you have for what’s coming our way.” He nodded to the right. Low and behold there was the last person I wanted to deal with this evening. Zack Graham, with his all American good looks and biker dress code was headed our way. Some overly excited blonde I didn’t know tucked under his arm like a teddy bear. I couldn’t tell if she was there for support as he appeared to be listing on his feet, or to show off.

  “Hey Liv, how are you this fine evening?”

  “Zack, looks like you’re enjoying the party.” I nodded politely, my mind formulating a quick exit strategy; someone to talk to, somewhere to be, hell even a song I wanted to dance to would work.

  “Yep. Surprised you made it. What with being sooo busy with your work and all. I told my father it was a bad fit for you, after all women can’t make choices as quickly as a man can. I heard you’ve had to work late every night this week.” My jaw clenched, I tried to count to five.

  “This would have paled in comparison to our wedding feast you know, but as you can see, I’ve moved on to bigger and better.” The blonde giggled on cue, slightly arching her back to show off whatever assets she thought were hidden under that low cut green dress of hers.

  “Good for you. I’m glad you managed to find someone who could stand your company.” I was done with the little prince’s ego. Unfortunately, like a well-tuned watch, he chimed on time. Zack’s face flushed as I spoke, his chest puffing out in ill-gotten pride.

  “Least I’m not a disgusting vamplover, what’s it like to kiss a dead man?” The words rolled out of him in a wave of pure repulsion, each syllable more over pronounced than the last.

  “Now look here…” Cole tried to cut in.

  “Far more appealing than your worthless ass.” I snapped without thinking.

  Zack pushed girl out from under him, crossing his arms indignantly. “When my father hears about this you are going to-”
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  “No.” I tried to formulate a friendly way to calm him down, but it just pissed me off more. “No. Screw this. I am not in the mood for your egotistical idiotic bullshit tonight Zackary Graham. So do me a favor and piss off!” When I was done bellowing at him, I took the ale Cole had just given me and threw it in his face. It was the second time in my life I had done something so cliché. The first being when Ryan VanBelt had taken me to the sophomore dance and decided to interrupt a beautiful slow song to tell me we were really just there as friends. This time though, this time was far more justified.

  To add to my current achievement, his little over fluffed arm accessory’s face was slowly turning a deep red in embarrassment. In less than two minutes she would be in the middle of a full blown hissy fit, full of screaming in my direction.

  Before another syllable could be uttered I turned heel and left, attempting to disappear into the crowd. My feet managed to weave through three jubilant couples before my knees quivered.

  “Maaaan….the look on his face.” Cole was laughing beside me, although his facial expression made the jovial gesture seem questionable.

  “Sorry. He’s such a dick.”

  “True that. Combo package variety. Both as big and little as they come.”

  I snickered. “Glad we agree.”

  Cole wrapped his arms around me, his right hand rubbing a small circle on my back. Leaning into him I tried to regain my balance. Force my racing heart to settle.

  “Isn’t this going to put you in hot water with the council?” His lips mumbled into my hair.

  “If they get in my face over throwing beer on a drunk at the Spring Festival well then they can shove their little council right up Daddy Grahams fat ass.” I spoke into his shoulder, taking a deep breath full of his clean soapy scent.

  “Whoa…he did get to you didn’t he?”

  “No.” Yes.

  “Do you want to talk about earlier?”

  “Huh?” Confused, I looked up at him.