by Vanessa Jaye
Tessa straightened her shoulders and marched forward, sandals crunching on the gravel. She stepped inside the gates. Another step and the trees closed in, boughs dipping to lightly snag her hair and fronds stretching out from the gutters to tangle her heels. She kept to the center of the bone-strewn path and resisted looking too deeply into the dense vegetation to either side. She really didn’t want to know what was making those rustling sounds in the undergrowth.
Although it was early afternoon, it could have been late evening in the dappled shade of the dense vegetation. Crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch—the tiny bones created a morbid little rhythm with each step she took. The walk seemed longer than before, and Tessa couldn’t chase away the feeling of being watched.
Finally the house, with its garden of dreams, came into view. It was this sight that finally made her shiver. Her steps slowed.
“Hello? Templeton?”
“Arrck! Hello, my darling. Arrck!”
Tessa gasped, jerking her gaze up to follow the sudden streak of jewel-tone feathers through the dark, leafy canopy.
“Stupid bird! You scared me half to death.”
The parrot bobbed its head and then flew off while her heartbeat decelerated.
“That was not his intention, I assure you.”
Tessa spun again, fist clutched to her chest.
“Oh, I’m ever so sorry, my dear.” Templeton held his hands up, red-stained palms out. “I’m no better than Barnabas, it seems.” He waited. “Okay, now?”
“That depends on if anyone else sneaks up on me.”
He scanned the vegetation behind her briefly, then said, “Not worry,” with his usual benign smile.
“Now come, I just made some lovely sour-sop juice. Or perhaps some lemonade?” He cocked his head to the side. “No. I think you’ve developed a taste for more exotic fare.” Templeton started down the narrow path that cut through the garden and Tessa hurried after him.
He led her to the wooden table under the large tree where they’d all sat before. A large plastic jug sat on a colorful plastic tray along with tumblers and a dish of biscuits.
Tessa sat. “Were you expecting me? There are two glasses.”
“I did tell you I’d see you again.” He leaned back in his chair, hands clasped over his belly.
“Then you know why I’m here.”
“Maybe. But what I know doesn’t matter. It’s for you to tell me what you want to know.”
She reached for a glass but made no move to drink. “Tell me about Nate.”
“Ahhh.” He took an interest in his nails, dark burgundy limed the cuticles and caked the creases of his knuckles.
It’s blood. She looked out to the yard where the tree stump stood. The axe was missing.
“Anything specific you want to know?”
Tessa dragged her attention back to Templeton. She wanted to answer that she needed to know everything. But what if he clammed up like Silas?
“Have you known him long?”
“Oh, about twelve years now.”
“He comes—came here often?”
Templeton shook his head. “This be the third time he come.” Again, Tessa felt like she was being weighted by that hueless gaze.
“The first time, she brought him to me. I knew her first, you see. They were newly mated and just married.”
“Beth.”
He nodded, leaving it to her to ask the questions if she chose. There was none worth asking, they’d all have the same answer which she said now, “They were happy.”
“Extremely so,” he said with great indulgence. “Love has that affect on people. Although it often has the opposite effect too.”
Tessa didn’t want to hear any more. Didn’t want to hear all the things Beth had had with Nate that she herself would never have a chance at.
“This was a mistake.” She stood. “I shouldn’t have come here.”
“If that’s what you believe.”
“What I believe?” Tessa was suddenly consumed with anger. “I believe Nate and I should have had our whole lives together ahead of us, before that, that fucking thing took him from me! He did not deserve to die like that!”
Despair surged up from her chest as she imagined what Nate’s last minutes would’ve been like. Plunging down into cold water, the pressure building, the light fading…
“Not like that,” she gasped.
“Breathe, child.” Templeton was beside her, one hand at her elbow.
She did, but she had to ask. “Would you know…? Did he suffer badly?”
“Oh, yes. Very much so, I’m afraid.”
She stepped away, as if distance from the source of the news would lessen the hurt. As if the only way to stop her legs from collapsing was to use them.
“Goodbye, Templeton.”
He gave her his funny little smile and a slight inclination of his head. “Have a safe journey, my dear.” A careless wave with a bloodstained hand and he returned to his chair.
Before he was seated, Tessa was headed for the path back through the garden. How could he be so calm? So unaffected?
Her feet dragged with every step, and her heart felt like it was anchored behind her and being torn from her chest. Tessa stopped. Blood pounding in her head, her stomach slipping in and out of knots.
She hadn’t been asking the right questions. Now her heart was racing, and so were her feet back to the table.
“Is he dead?”
Templeton pursed his lips, his face masked with sadness. “I heard it was an awful, awful fall. The police haven’t found the bodies.”
“No, the police haven’t. And they won’t, will they? Where is he? Where’s Nate?”
“I really couldn’t say. The tides—”
“He’s here, isn’t he?” Tessa slowly turned full circle, first scanning the house, then the jungle surrounding them, and she opened her senses, sending out feelers, searching for Nate.
“You have a plane to catch back home.”
“My home is wherever Nate is,” she snapped. “And I believe he’s here.”
For the first time since she’d met him, Templeton’s expression showed no sign of good humor. His bonhomie façade melted away, leaving the hard bone of menace.
“Belief can kill, miss.”
“‘And belief can cure’. Isn’t that what you said? Nate needs me, more than ever. That’s what I believe.” And I need him.
She turned her back on Templeton and faced the house.
Chapter Eighteen
A profusion of plants grew right up to the stuccoed walls, from low, scented grasses to flowering bushes. The brightly painted wood trim should have been cheery, instead it struck a discordant note to the general sense of genteel ruin.
Shutters emphasized the blankness of multiple windows—those black sheets of glass that gave no glimpse of the interior, only reflecting the outside world.
And their reflection showed that Templeton was gone.
A quick glance behind her confirmed it.
Tessa inhaled, took one hesitant step, then another and another, till she was running. She’d just reached the stairs leading up to the wide verandah that ran the length of the house, when a large shape detached itself from the shadows.
She froze as the beast padded closer, a slight hitch in its gait from favoring one foreleg. Black as pitch except for its slanting golden eyes and where the dappled sunlight striped its fur in a white sheen, the panther lay down across the threshold.
The big cat yawned, showing two rows of sharp white teeth, canines bigger than her forefingers, and a thick pink tongue curled back within the huge gap of its mouth. He crossed his oversized paws, claws scraping on the concrete and contemplated her with disdain.
“You don’t scare me, Mitch.”
His tail curled up and whipped down, but that unnerving stare never wavered.
She climbed the steps slowly and then inched closer. “I don’t even think you want to scare me. If you’re here, so is Nate. Unless…” She swal
lowed. “Is he in there? Why is he hiding from me? Please, Mitch, I can’t let go. I need to know the truth.”
He gained his feet in one fluid motion and let out a growl that had her scrambling backward. She caught herself before she tripped down the stairs. Mitch shook himself and gave an odd gravelly cough.
Now why did she translate that cough to: Not scared, my ass.
He turned inside, stopped, looked back once and then disappeared into the darkness.
By this point, Tessa’s bravado had packed its bags and was hailing a cab.
In his shifted state, Mitch served as a graphic reminder of other physical changes that had taken place that fateful night. What would she find in the house? Nate or that thing he’d become? The thing that had warned her to run?
Her sandals scuffed on the wooden floors as she entered directly into a large main room. She had the impression of plush sofas upholstered in faded florals and lots of dark, heavy furniture. There were two doorways leading from this room. One led to the kitchen, the other to a narrow corridor. She went to the latter.
“Nate? Mitch?”
There was no reply.
Tessa crept down the dark hall, her arms outstretched, hands touching the walls, guiding her way. She stopped to peek into several empty rooms as she went, but there was one closed door that she hesitated in front of before turning the knob. This room was empty also and almost as dusky as the hallway because the partially closed shutters that combed the space in alternating stripes of light and dark.
The sheets on the bed were rumpled and just one pillow held an indentation. Tessa went in. It smelled a little different in here, but there were no real clues as to who the occupant was. She sat on the bed, smoothed the sheets, and then held the pillow to her nose. Him.
She hugged the pillow tighter, and it soaked up her quiet tears while joy so delicately came to life inside of her.
“What are you doing here?”
The question cracked through the silence and Tessa started, her breath caught by a fine mesh of disbelief in her lungs. She slowly lowered the pillow to her lap.
He was seated in an armchair in the darkest corner of the room. She would’ve sworn he hadn’t been there a moment before. Shock mixed with gratitude stole her ability to talk. He was alive. She stood on shaky legs and moved towards him.
“Don’t.”
She flinched and stopped. This time his hostility found its mark.
“W-why?”
“That was my question to you. Why are you here, Tessa?”
“How can you ask that? I came to you.”
“Why? What did you think this little visit would accomplish?”
“Of course I’d come,” Tessa said, confused. “Even though for some reason you’re shutting me out.” She couldn’t help it, she couldn’t hide it, hurt was raw in her voice.
“For some reason?” Nate’s laugh was nasty. He sat up, lethal canines flashing as he spoke. “Did you hit your head that last night on the ship? Didn’t you see what I am? Really am?”
“I see…” She swallowed. She saw his pain in the smoky tendrils that slithered across the floor towards her.
He was bare-chested and the broad white bandage that wrapped his torso was startling against his tanned skin. One side of his face was bruised and there were long scratches marking his body. All in all though, he was looking a damn sight better than she could have ever hoped.
“I see my mate,” she stated. “The man—”
“Monster!” he yelled, half-rising out of the chair, fingernails turned to claws that shredded the upholstered arms.
“I can smell your blood, Tessa. I hear your heart thudding in your chest.” His canines grew longer. “Do you know what I want to do to you, right now?” The words were dark and raw. Abruptly, he sat back and averted his face. “Take a good look at what you think is human.”
Tessa stood her ground. “I see the man who has protected me from the first minute we met. You’re doing it right now. Whatever is inside you—that you think might hurt me—you’ve always shielded me from it.”
As she walked towards him dark ribbons of his emotions lapped at her ankles and twined around her calves. They felt like an icy draft, chasing chills down her spine. She forced herself to ignore them.
“I see the man who cared about me even before he knew me because he knew we were meant to be.”
The sooty streams of light stopped their insidious crawl up her limbs and snapped back to furl around Nate. He wore them like amour. Silver flashed in his blue-brown eyes.
“No.” His hoarse denial came out savagely, but Tessa smiled, her confidence growing with every crack he showed.
“You can’t lie to me, Nate. You can shut me out of your head. You can hide away in dark rooms, but I’ll always know the truth here.” She touched her chest. “You gave me that truth. Remember? You made me promise to have faith in you. Well, I keep my promises.” Her voice dropped to barely a whisper, and as she spoke she came closer until she stood directly in front of him. She sank to her knees so they were almost eye-to-eye.
“Because I belong with you, Nathan Smith,” she hiccupped a little laugh, “or whatever the heck your name is.”
He didn’t return her smile. Tessa touched his hand, he flinched but didn’t push her away.
“I could have hurt you.”
“But you didn’t. You sacrificed yourself instead.” Her chest felt tight as she relived the terror of seeing him grappling with the Pithcus, and then the moment they’d both plunged into the sea. Disappeared. Gone forever. Or so she’d believed in the empty hours that followed.
Now Tessa set about recommitting to memory every feature of his face, touching brows, nose, jaw, lips.
“And what about next time? What if the thing you need saving from is me?”
He held her gaze as he stroked a finger along the tracks of her tears, but the tears only came faster because she saw the resoluteness within him.
Tessa jumped up and turned her back to him. There was only so much baring-of-the-soul she was capable of. She scrubbed at her cheeks with the heels of both palms.
“What happened to Angelica?”
“She’s dead.”
Death was too good for the bitch. She should have suffered more.
“Let it go,” Nate said.
She hadn’t even felt him in her head. For once she didn’t resent the invasion. It meant he was willing to reach out—
As soon as she thought it, she felt his withdrawal, and Tessa wanted to scream in frustration. Instead she unclenched her jaw enough to say in a hate-fuelled undertone,
“Never. Angelica took something from me and I will never, ever forgive her for it. But you know how that is, don’t you, Nate?” she added lightly, more lightly than she was feeling. Because what she was feeling was that she was sinking, flailing around, barely holding on here, and not a straw of hope in sight.
She wandered over to the chest of drawers by the bed. A small collection of seashells were scattered across the polished surface. She picked one up, put it back, picked it up again.
“The police think you and Mitch are dead too,” she blurted out. Tessa dropped the shell from suddenly nerveless fingers and cleared her throat. “They have divers out looking for your bodies.”
“Templeton will have a word with the chief inspector later tonight.”
“And everything will be cleared up just like that, huh? Everything just hunky-dory and back to normal?” she asked with soft sarcasm and faced him again.
A muscle ticked along his jaw line. “Templeton commands a certain amount of respect and influence on St. Stephan’s. Our miraculous resurrection will only lend credence to his legend.”
The brief speech seemed to weary him and Nate leaned back in the chair. He looked bitter and alone and beyond her reach.
There was nothing left to say or do. She’d cried and reasoned and gone down on her knees. Tessa pressed her lips together. It was time to go.
But she couldn’t
leave without touching him one more time. She stopped by his chair and cupped the side of his face. “Well…take care, Nate.”
And what was left unsaid, out loud, she told him in the other way, wrapping him in coils of emotion—caring, tenderness, forgiveness and all the other ones he needed but was too stubborn to reach for. The room glowed with her need for him, then filled with a glittering lightshow of devotion and desire. The storm eased to a soft mist of sadness for everything they’d never have. Through it all, Nate sat there like a pillar of stone.
As she dropped her hand, he snatched at it, lightening quick, pressing kiss after kiss after feverish kiss to her knuckles, palm and wrist, almost crushing her in his tight grip. Then just as suddenly he flung her hand from him.
“Get out!”
“But—”
“Why’d you have come here? Why couldn’t you accept I was dead? Just leave me alone!” He bound up from the chair and Tessa skittered back. His anger flashed through the space between them in jagged streaks of electric white that stung at her.
“Leave and don’t come back.” His voice turned guttural, his bi-colored eyes flashing silver as the bones beneath the tightly drawn flesh of his face shifted ominously.
“Or else…” He took a step forward and his body bulked out, ripping the bandages around his torso like so much gossamer.
A large hand reached for her, swiping through the empty space she’d been standing in seconds ago. By then Tessa had turned and ran.
The hallway seemed endless and darker than before as she raced towards the main room. She practically leapt down the verandah stairs when she reached outside, panting and blinking away bitter tears. She stumbled through that hated yard of weeds and dirty rags. Dreams, my ass. Lies and stupid hopes.
A burst of color streaked overhead. Tessa yelped and dropped to a crouch, heart in her throat as she scanned the treetops.
“Awwk. Goodbye, my darling, awwk. Bye-bye, love.”