by T. L. Martin
“After last night, we cannot take any chances,” Priscilla announced. “In the meantime, there is another invested in protecting her. In fact, I am certain he is listening right now. I am, of course, referring to Desmond Stone.”
“I’m sorry. Who?” I asked, hoping she wasn’t referring to the same Desmond Stone who had ravaged that man’s neck before my eyes.
“Desmond Stone,” Quinn said bitterly, her upper lip curled in disdain. “He cannot be trusted with her.”
Priscilla peered expectantly through the shop’s transparent door.
“I believe he can,” she stated simply.
“A selfish—” Quinn began again, but Priscilla interrupted with a clear sharpness in her tone.
“The decision has been made, and I will not argue. Desmond is more than capable of providing protection. He is discreet, and, with his exceptional senses and speed, can effectively watch her from a distance. Most importantly, he wants to keep her safe just as much as we do. Now, he should be here any—ah, here we are.” She pulled the jingling door open just as a tall, hooded figure approached.
Desmond glided into the shop silently. His fierce blue eyes, intense as ever, scanned the room for a brief second before eventually settling on me.
I could see the unspoken resentment on Quinn’s face as she skeptically watched him.
Priscilla leaned in and quietly uttered something to Desmond, then glanced back and motioned for me to come forward.
“It’s all right, Charlie,” she assured me. “I can promise you are in good hands.”
I did not trust Desmond, let alone want him anywhere near me. But he’d already saved me once, and I didn’t seem to have much of a say in the matter regardless. I strongly hoped Priscilla’s reasons for trusting him so readily were firm.
“You need your rest today,” Priscilla continued. “I will see you in the morning, dear.”
I acknowledged her with a nod of my head, and she gently squeezed my arm before exiting the shop.
With a brooding look of impatience upon his face, Desmond held the front door open for me—a gesture of which, no matter how polite it appeared, was likely only urging me to get on with it. I gazed hopefully over my shoulder at the others, as though perhaps one of them might rescue me, but I knew it was useless. They were unwaveringly loyal to Priscilla.
“We’ll be here if you need anything,” Pixie offered with an apologetic smile.
“Anything at all,” Quinn emphasized.
Matt gave a regretful wave but said nothing.
I proceeded to exit, cool drops of rain immediately pouring over my body as I made my way across Old Town. I could see Desmond from the corner of my eye as he strode silently beside me, but I didn’t grant him any attention. As I struggled, and failed, to out-walk him, he acted as though he was out on a leisurely stroll, taking in the lovely sights.
Strands of my unruly hair, which were now drenched in rain, escaped from their hold and hung irritatingly in my face. As we turned the corner onto my street, the water began to seep through my shirt. To my utter surprise, Desmond slipped off his jacket and began to set it over my shoulders.
“I’m fine,” I quietly muttered, shirking out of reach and picking up my pace.
After all, I had already been designated the helpless girl who couldn’t take care of herself. I could handle a little rain.
Passing by Ray’s house, I glanced at his door and briefly wondered if he and Diana, his caregiver, were still away. His appointment with Dr. Sampson was over an hour ago.
My silver key unlocked the front door with ease as I swung it open, enormously relieved to be home. By the time I’d turned back to check on Desmond, he had already disappeared from sight. I shut the door behind me and bolted the locks. I knew he would still be watching, but was relieved he didn’t insist on being in the house with me.
A temperamental babysitter watching my every move was the last thing my nerves needed—and a blood-thirsty one at that.
I slunk my shivering body out of the wet clothes and lightly dried off with a towel before changing. Releasing my damp hair from the tangled grip of its hair tie, I stroked my fingers through the thick strands and left it down to air dry. If I was going to be stuck inside all day, I may as well be comfortable.
Ambling into the kitchen, I noticed a small, white note sitting on the counter.
Charlie,
I’ll probably be halfway across the country by the time you see this, but I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you.
P.S. Don’t even think about Hemlock Grove binging without me.
I tried to smile, glad to see the simple note, but my mind was still in shock. I didn’t know why I suddenly wanted to see her so badly. Of course, I loved my aunt and always missed her charismatic presence, but it wasn’t as though I confided in her. Or anyone else, for that matter. Thinking of it now, I realized I didn’t have anyone who I felt I could go to with something like this, and the knowledge of that in itself was practically enough to drive me over the edge.
Ugh. I needed food. Maybe if I wasn’t starving I’d be able to think a bit more clearly.
Scanning the fridge for leftovers, I was surprised to find that there were none. Stacy must have packed the remaining spaghetti with her for later. My stomach was not pleased. I groaned and snatched one of the last remaining apples from the fruit bowl. It would have to do. Wandering over to the living room and collapsing on to the couch, I let the weight of my body fall into its soft cushions and folded my knees up against my chest.
It was all too much, sucking me in like an anchor bound to the bottom of the sea, beyond the pitch-black depths and far into the unknown.
Say all of it was real—the magic, the vampires, the demons, and whatnot—and I wasn’t completely losing my mind... Why choose the girl who’d failed to protect herself to hold such a coveted power? What was I meant to do with this newfound knowledge? What could possibly be expected of me? Something told me my GPA wasn’t going to help me with this one, and I highly doubted my one knack for delivering a solid punch could intimidate anyone worth fearing in this mystical new world, either.
Perhaps the thing overwhelming me the most at present was: how would I begin to know who could or could not be trusted from this point forward?
I could feel him, Desmond, beyond the cool sensation. He was standing just outside of my house. Of course, there was no other physical evidence to give him away, but it was there all the same. Trying my best to ignore him, I peeled myself from the sofa and clicked on the stereo. A soothing, slow-paced song sounded around me. Though it did nothing to relax my nerves, I was grateful to have the silence filled.
My stomach grumbled loudly as though reminding me of its empty state. I retrieved my black cell phone from the dining room table with a loud sigh and scrolled through my contacts for the local pizza place. A little cheesy comfort food would be perfect at a time like this. Before I could hit the call button, a light knock sounded at the door.
I stared at the closed door with a puzzled look on my face. Maybe Desmond had to use the restroom. Did vampires even do that?
Finally pulling it open, I was surprised to see a scrawny, young delivery boy extending a large box of pizza toward me.
“Medium pizza?” The boy asked, double-checking the order in his hand as I stood there dumbfounded.
“Oh. Uh...what?”
Desmond suddenly appeared beside the boy, seemingly out of nowhere, and I shot him a suspicious glance. Did he do this? He paid no notice of me as he exchanged the pizza for cash and politely thanked the guy.
The delivery boy—whose already frail appearance seemed to shrink before my eyes from just standing beside the vampire’s masculine and sturdy frame—stuffed the change into his pockets with shaky hands, his rattled eyes gawking at Desmond as though he didn’t dare look away. Even without knowing he was a footstep away from a deadly vampire, the guy seemed to be itching to bolt.
Desmond stayed firmly in place, looking down at the human with
subtle curiosity, until the boy finally found his feet and scurried away.
He stepped forward as though to enter, and I cautiously moved aside to give him space. He did just buy me pizza, after all. He glanced down at me in pause, his feet all but frozen just outside the threshold.
“It’s okay,” I offered awkwardly, wondering if he was waiting for my approval to come inside.
His lips tightened, and his voice was deep and husky when he spoke. “I need to be invited in.”
“Oh. Right,” I stammered, recalling the countless novels I had read that’d already taught me this fact. “Um...come on in?”
Brushing calmly passed me, Desmond set the food down on the dining table.
“You didn’t have to—”
“I know,” he firmly interjected.
“I could have paid—”
“I know,” he said, more softly this time.
Standing just a few inches away from me now, I had to lift my head slightly to hold his gaze. Tousled strands of dark hair brushed over his eyebrows as his unnerving eyes inspected me. The angles of his face were decidedly manly, with a strong jaw line, yet the smoothness of his skin and spark in his eyes added a youthful touch. Forcing myself to look away, I cleared my throat and wandered into the kitchen.
“Have you really been watching me so closely?” I tried to keep my voice casual as I stretched onto my tiptoes to retrieve a plate from the upper cabinet. I stumbled slightly as I lowered the plate onto the counter, and it toppled loudly before steadying. Stay cool, I told myself. “Enough to know my go-to comfort food?”
I ignored his silence and peeked challengingly into the box, frowning when I saw the pineapple sprinkled on a plain cheese pizza. He even knew my order. I grabbed a slice and took a large bite. I could almost hear my stomach applauding in delight.
“I could have already eaten,” I muttered through a mouthful of cheesy goodness.
“You didn’t.”
I retreated to the sofa, watching the curious creature closely as I curled my legs beneath me.
“Well…thank you.”
Desmond helped himself to my kitchen, opening the bottom right cabinet without hesitation and selecting a bottle of water. Saying nothing, he set the bottle down on the coffee table before turning back toward the front door.
“Wait,” I called softly, stopping him just as he’d pulled it open. I wasn’t entirely certain what prompted me to invite him back, but I did know the idea of being alone at a time like this had turned out to be much more alluring than the reality. “You can stay...if you want.”
He looked back at me, his jaw locking tightly and blue eyes burning fiercely into mine in a way that made my stomach flip. His lips were pressed into a hard line when he gave his head a small, barely visible, shake. “I’ll be outside.”
Locking the door behind him, it closed with a gentle click, leaving me, once again, alone.
I slipped my hands into a pair of well-worn gloves, positioned myself across from the heavy bag, and coped how I knew best: gathering my riled nerves and frustrated mind and using their energy to drive my fist against the leather, one ferocious dig at a time. To my grave disappointment, every whack seemed to shed light on a new question. I started to release a shout with each swing. I shifted to kicks, my thighs quickly burning from the sheer repetitive force. Even so, I couldn’t shake it, the nerves, the suffocation…the fear.
This wasn’t cutting it. I threw down my gloves, abandoning them on the floor, and took a brief, cold shower. After yanking on a pair of fresh shorts and a sweater, I kept my feet bare and secured each window before exiting.
Desmond was propped up along the wall, his eyes following me carefully as I walked past him and stopped at Ray’s door. After a second bout of knocking and still no response, I walked back to my house, grabbed a pen, and tore the bottom half off my aunt’s note.
Hope everything's going okay at Dr. Sampson’s. Heading out, but we can do our walk tomorrow.
Love,
Charlotte
I locked up behind me and jogged back to Ray’s, slipping the note under his door. I wished he wasn’t so anti-technology and would agree to a cell phone.
Desmond appeared at my side, startling me once again.
The cool sand felt smooth beneath my bare feet as we made our way toward the waves. Though the skies were still dark and overcast, several rays of sunlight managed to escape across the far end of the ocean, casting a beautiful low glow over the water, and I found myself wondering what vampires like Desmond did on our sunny days. They may have been few and far between, but they were there. Would he burn if the rays touched his skin as most novels would lead me to believe? They were, after all, right about vampires needing an invitation—a fact that would allow me to sleep a little sounder at night.
I quickly compiled a mental checklist of any tidbits the supernatural writers had taught me over the years and realized I knew very little, if anything at all. Depending on the book, they were able to move uncommonly fast, defy human strength, burn in daylight, had exceptional hearing, slept in coffins, and of course, the only fact I knew with total certainty: vampires were blood-thirsty killers. I shuddered at the thought.
And yet, glancing discreetly at the intimidating one strolling so casually beside me now, I somehow didn’t feel threatened by him.
“How did you know?” I asked, dipping my toes into the water.
“Pardon me?” Desmond asked, his tone low and smooth.
“How did you figure out who I am? What I am,” I whispered.
He picked up a rock from the sand and casually tossed it into the ocean, appearing almost human in the moment...almost. The rock skipped skillfully along the water, before finally sinking.
“Priscilla may have told me.”
I shook my head, irritated at his response. “Don’t do that.”
Glancing back at me, he cocked an eyebrow.
“Don’t undermine me just because I’m human,” I said frankly, surprised by the fluidity of my words around this person. Perhaps it was just easier to speak my mind than to consider my words beforehand—an act that would only invite further anxiety. “I know you’ve been watching me, and I know you must have figured it out before she did.”
“Is that right?” Though it was a question, he voiced it like a statement.
“The chill I get in my spine when you’re near me...I’ve felt it before. At my house. On my walks.” Keeping my feet in the water, I resumed walking toward the river. I knew he would follow. “You don’t all feel the same, you know. It comes fast, with most of them. Latching onto my spine and racing up my neck.”
I looked back at him briefly, feeling the sensation even now as we spoke. “Yours is different. It’s slow. Calm.”
I could feel his eyes on me but kept my own on the destination ahead of us.
“Besides,” I continued, “cheese pizza with pineapple isn’t exactly a popular choice.” I thought I saw the corner of his mouth hint at a smile. “My point is: you wouldn’t waste all that time on a human if there wasn’t a good reason. Which means, you must have figured it out before we did.”
He was right beside me now, staring at the river we were slowly approaching.
“You’re right,” he said simply.
“So? How’d you know?”
“For a while, I didn’t,” Desmond began. “I first found out about the Opal from a demon in Paris. I dismissed it, of course; it wasn’t the first time rumors about a stone had popped up over the centuries.” The casual comment reminded me of just how old he must be. “Until a vampire in Utah almost burned a church full of humans to the ground in search of it.”
My stomach dropped, and I stared at him in disbelief. “I had no idea. That’s awful.”
We had walked farther than I realized, and I sat myself on a rock, waiting for him to continue. He remained standing, his solid frame towering over me.
“You should know, it will only get worse,” he said, observing the expression on my face.
“Word travels fast.”
“Yeah,” I muttered morosely. He was only stating the obvious. But it was something I wasn’t yet prepared to think about. “So, then what?”
“Then…I took care of the fool,” he snarled, and I shuddered to think of how exactly he took care of him. “And I contacted the one person I knew might have more answers than I did.”
“Priscilla,” I concluded aloud.
He nodded. “She confirmed the rumors were true this time. That the stone was here, in Bandon.”
“But how did she know where it was?” I asked, silently wondering why Priscilla felt she could trust Desmond enough to provide him with such information.
“The first clue was the Guardians. There are only a handful of them, but they started flocking to this area last year, before they even knew why. Anyway, I had seen you pass by her shop a few times. Saw you spot it on your own, despite being human. It wasn’t long after that I made the connection.”
The tide had started to pick up. Waves crashed into the shoreline. I had hardly noticed we were sitting at one of my favorite spots: a place where the vast ocean to our left met up with Coquille’s river, which was gradually becoming more riled up as the clouds continued to darken the sky. The Coquille River Lighthouse was easy to spot from here, elevated on a slope directly across from us, on the other side of the river.
Suddenly, I stood and looked up at Desmond, realization finally sprouting. That cool sensation I had felt the day my mother’s necklace vanished, the day someone broke in... He couldn’t have taken it himself since he hadn’t been invited inside yet, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t involved. Feeling an onslaught of both confusion and anger, my voice was quiet.
“Where is it?” I asked.
The elusive expression on his face gave nothing away.
“Please.”
“What are you talking about?” he growled softly. Intimidating as he was, I refused to show weakness.
“I think you know.” My voice was steady, and sounded more confident than I felt. “I felt a chill—your chill—at my house...the day my mother’s necklace was taken. You have to know what happened to it.”