by Angel Lawson
As I dusted the paintings in the parlor I stopped at a particular painting that had caught my eye over the last couple of weeks. It had beautiful blues and reds and I could faintly see the shapes of two figures, although they were very abstract, mingled in with shapes and designs. I peered at it a little closer, looking at the thick paint, intrigued.
"It's called “Male and Female”.”
Startled, I spun around, glad I had nothing breakable in my hands. “Dude, you scared me.”
“Sorry.”
"The painting’s beautiful. There is so much going on, every time I come in here I find myself drawn to it. Who painted it?" I asked.
"Jackson Pollock painted it in 1940," he answered. With his long, graceful hands he began pointing out details.
I listened to him describe the painting with fascination. "There is some confusion as to what exactly is in the painting. Some people feel it is a man and a woman. Others think it is one figure but defined two ways. Pollock was very ambiguous in his artwork. He didn't feel the need to explain his paintings to anyone."
"Isn't he the guy with the splatter or drip painting?" I asked searching my brain for filed away art history lessons.
For once my questions seemed to work and his typically smooth face became animated as he spoke. "Yes, but this was an earlier work. He didn't start with the drip paintings that are more recognizable now until later in his career. I prefer this style to the other. When you look at it, it can be almost anything you want it to be. You can find what you're looking for in it each time you see it." He looked down at me through the hair dipping down over his eyes. "I feel this is how most people live their lives, seeing what they want to see, not what is really there."
We stood for a moment, absorbing the painting quietly until he asked, "What do you see?"
"I do see the male. Here is his strong, sharp jaw and thick brow. His hair, it's bushy and golden brown." I tilted my head and studied him for a moment. "He resembles you."
Mr. Palmer studied me back before flicking his eyes back to the painting. "And the female?" he prodded.
"I'm not sure about the woman," I said, pointing to the figure in red. "Her facial features are much less refined, yet her body clearly implies her gender. She’s very vague, almost like she is something just out of reach."
I leaned in further trying to make sense out of Pollock's chaos but deciding, ultimately, for this day I was satisfied. I faced Mr. Palmer to find him looking intently at the painting, perhaps dreaming of his own version of what the artist was trying to convey.
I said softly, "Thank you for sharing that with me. I'm going to get back to work now."
Mr. Palmer glanced my way, his eyes never fully leaving the canvas. "You're welcome, Ms. Chase."
I took a last glance as I left the room Mr. Palmer was still standing in front of the piece, hands in his pockets, completely still. I realized this may be the first time since I'd met him he seemed completely at ease and comfortable with me and our surroundings.
Later that afternoon I was surprised to hear the doorbell ring. Mr. Palmer had retreated upstairs to his offices and I had been entering in more names, dates and addresses into the database on the computer. We were not expecting deliveries.
I hopped up and ran to the door, hoping whoever was outside had an umbrella since it was raining quite hard.
I pulled the door open and was happily surprised to see Olivia standing on the stoop under a bright green umbrella. She wore a matching raincoat cinched at the waist with a belt. Next to her was the tall, lanky frame of Mr. Palmer's blonde friend, who was wearing a gray trench coat to stay dry.
“Good afternoon, Amelia. Hope we aren’t interrupting."
"Of course not, please come in,” I said. “I didn't know you were coming. Hurry and get out of the rain."
“Spur of the moment visit. Don’t worry about Grant. We’ll handle him.”
"Let me take your umbrella and coats," I said, taking them and hanging them up on the hooks by the door. "Please make yourself comfortable and wait in the parlor while I fetch Mr. Palmer."
I bolted out of the room as quickly as my feet would take me and ran up the stairs to Mr. Palmer's door. I knocked gently and he opened the door a moment later, an expectant look on his face. His lean body filled the space between the door and the frame, blocking me from seeing further into his room.
Watching him lean in the door way was one of those moments and a bundle of butterflies exploded in my stomach. God, he was handsome. His hair was pushed back off his forehead, except for several small pieces, and my fingers twitched with the desire to bush those back with the rest. I felt my face warm at the ridiculous thought and said, "Sorry to bother you but Olivia and your friend are here. I asked them to wait downstairs."
"My friend?" He blinked twice. "Oh, you must mean Elijah. I didn't hear them arrive." He shut the door behind him and waved his arm for me to go ahead of him down the stairs.
At the bottom of the steps I turned to him and said, "Elijah is really cute. Good job."
"Amelia.” He grimaced, but I waved him off.
"I'll behave," I promised. “But seriously, double thumbs up.”
In the parlor Eli and Olivia sat together on the love seat engaged in quiet conversation. Mr. Palmer entered the room behind me and when I glanced back I saw the pained expression on his face. He and Olivia shared some kind of silent communication. She lifted a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. Confused at the energy in the room, I glanced at Eli, who only looked amused.
Wow. Whatever was going on with this group didn’t need my involvement. I backed out the door and said, "If you need me I’ll be at my desk.”
I heard a low rush of words and possibly a hiss from Mr. Palmer as I passed him. I was almost safely out the door when he called, "Amelia, wait. In the chaos the other day I forgot to introduce you to Elijah."
I stepped back in and noticed Mr. Palmer was looking at the ceiling. Olivia had picked up Elijah's hand and smiled at him. I smiled, a little confused at their affection, but said, "Nice to officially meet you, Elijah. I'm Amelia."
He gave me a breathtaking grin and said, "Hi, Amelia.”
My eyes shifted from Elijah to Olivia and then to Mr. Palmer. I had the sudden, sinking realization that I was the ugly duckling in a room full of extraordinarily attractive people.
Mr. Palmer coughed and grunted, "Olivia," under his breath.
Olivia smiled warmly at me. "Amelia, Elijah is my husband.”
I felt my jaw drop a little and I looked between Olivia and Mr. Palmer trying to figure out what was going on.
Mr. Palmer was still not looking at anyone. In fact, he was strategically looking anywhere but at me, Olivia or Elijah.
"Your husband? No, I had no idea you two were married,” I replied through clenched teeth. I hissed in Mr. Palmer's direction, "No idea at all."
The tension in the room was thick. I was pretty sure it was due to my immense embarrassment since I had accused Mr. Palmer of having an affair with his cousin-in-law or whatever they were. I wanted to melt into the carpet and disappear, or at least I thought I did.
“No worries,” Elijah said. “People make that mistake all the time.”
“They do?” Oh God, this is terrible. Now they were making fun of me.
Elijah winked at me, which was…I don’t know what it was. Weird? Charming? Grant gave me a look that suggested I leave the room. What does that look like, exactly? Handsomely-terrifying?
“I, uh, have work to do,” I said, excusing myself from the room and racing back to my desk. God, that was terrible. I heard the trio go up the steps together and shut the door behind them, leaving me mixed-up and alone downstairs, wondering why Mr. Palmer lied to me about Elijah and what the heck did those people do upstairs all the time anyway?
Chapter 26
Grant
"Grant, if you and Elijah need some time alone I would happily give it to you," Olivia declared in an innocent voice.
I chose to ignore
her and walked over to my desk chair while the two of them sat on the couch.
“It could have been worse. Ryan could have been here. Or Sebastian,” Elijah said.
"Does everyone know?" I asked, my fingers automatically moving to the bridge of my nose in irritation. Olivia described the scenario in detail: My entire family listening to her as she relayed the conversation Amelia and I had concerning my sexual preferences. Ryan responded typically. Utter amusement and doubled over in laughter. Sebastian actually said, "I knew it" out loud before walking out of the room. Miles kept a straight face, while Genevieve flipped through a magazine as if she couldn’t care less. Trust me, she couldn’t.
I sighed and slumped a little in my chair.
Olivia came over, sat in my lap and draped her arm over my shoulder. "It’s okay, Grant. It's not a big deal and you really had no choice. You had to protect yourself and the family from being exposed."
“You took one for the team. Of course, I'm not sure which team that is anymore. It does explain a lot of things though,” Elijah chimed in. He was a dead man. Or a dead vamp. Whichever.
Olivia must have seen it coming because she jumped off my lap and for the second time in so many visits, I lunged at Elijah. He anticipated it this time, dodging me easily, and I landed on the couch with a loud thump. I leapt up in a defensive position. He narrowed his eyes, plotting his next move.
Olivia quickly dashed between us. "Stop it. You know it's funny and we know it's not true." She reached her hand out and pressed it to my lower chest. Her touch was firm—nothing like the warm, searing feeling of Amelia's fingertip.
I nodded and relaxed. I walked back to the couch and sat down and Olivia sat next to me this time, making sure I didn’t have plans to go after her husband again. Elijah moved to the computer, ignoring the two of us, probably trying to stay off my radar.
I looked at Olivia and asked in a desperate whisper, "What do you see?"
"With Amelia and Sasha?" she asked.
I gave her a tight nod.
“Right now everything is very murky. I get flashes of the Predator and several others but nothing specific. They haven’t decided on a course of action, but they are working on something. I do get the sense it involves Amelia.”
I leaned into the couch, slowly rubbing my palms up and down my legs. I hated the fact I hadn't stopped this group of rouge vampires earlier. I should have and I blamed myself for not seeing the larger pattern. It took every ounce of willpower to keep myself from going downstairs to pick her up and lock her away in this safe room until I'd eradicated the danger. I imagined doing exactly that, carrying her in my arms up the stairs. I’d inhale her delightful scent, and touch her soft, creamy skin. She’d be safe up here and in the meantime I would learn all her secrets and she would know all of mine.
I felt Eli watching me and glanced his way. He had an eyebrow raised in concern. “Grant, what is going on? Primal lust was one thing and hunger and desire are another, but this? She's human.”
"I know." Every moment I spent with her I wanted her more and more. I wasn't just feeling lust or protectiveness. I wanted more. Companionship?
“Dude, she’s human. Off limits. Do not touch. Do not engage. I let it go last time because if anyone was strong enough to fight the temptation it would be you. But if anything, you’ve gotten worse. You do realize you can’t pursue this, right?”
"I know," I repeated, growing agitated. This was exactly why I'd left home. Well, one of the reasons. Between the three of us there wasn't a shred of privacy. Your successes and failures were available for everyone to see and criticize. I couldn't handle it then and I definitely couldn't now.
“Grant, I'm serious. Don't fuck around with her. If something happened to her, the police, her family…they would all come to you first.”
Olivia shot Elijah a warning look, cutting him off mid-sentence. In her quiet voice she said, "It's okay, Elijah. Grant isn't going to do anything wrong." It was too late though. His questions set me on edge. All it took was a tiny stumble and Amelia’s fate was clear.
“I’m just saying,” he added. “We all know how this will end if you pursue it.”
Amelia would be dead. He didn’t say it. It wasn’t necessary. It was the absolute truth. The only truth.
She turned and looked at me with concern. “I don’t agree. I have no idea how this will end, Grant.”
I pushed off the couch and left the room, closing the door behind me and entered my bedroom. I knew Elijah was right; the thoughts and emotions I’d been struggling with were outrageous. Dangerous. I had no right to think of Amelia in any way other than as my employee—a human who needed my protection.
I'd been okay with that. I was even dealing with the absurd notion (okay, maybe not that absurd) that she thought I was homosexual. I thought this social barrier between us as man and woman would separate us further, keep us apart, make things more uncomfortable, but I had been wrong. It had the opposite effect. This bit of information made her more comfortable in my presence. She spoke to me about music and art or literature. She forced me to sit down and plan out our schedules, which led to us making jokes and familiarizing ourselves with one another. This caused a bigger problem than I'd ever expected.
I liked her. Very much.
I liked her sense of humor, her desire to learn, her curiosity.
I was intrigued by her lack of fear, her complete and utter disregard for self-preservation. I liked that no matter how much noise I tried to make, I startled her every time I walked in a room because she was so engrossed in her activity she was completely unaware of me. I liked the fact she was unaware of me. That my physical appearance and typical lures didn't seem to work on her the same way it did on other humans. And I liked that place on the side of her neck, right below her earlobe, that tinted red the minute I walked in the room.
I'd been pacing around the room, but at this thought I crumbled on my knees in fury. I could no longer deny I wanted Amelia the way a man wants a woman and it infuriated me. I was furious at Elijah for being right and at myself for being so weak. Enraged at the forces at work that placed this woman in my path when I had no reasonable chance to be with her.
I'd resolved to live alone, without my family or others. To protect those who needed it without reward or acknowledgement. Why did this insightful, strong, beautiful woman have to walk in and knock down my carefully arranged fortress?
I heard a tap on the study door and Olivia swung it open. She sat on the floor next to me and I couldn’t bear to look at her. I was precariously close to betraying my family and that was something I couldn’t inflict on them.
“Grant, you know I think you can be a real asshole sometimes. Like a total asshole. That shit you pulled on Amelia when she started was ridiculous.” She lifted my chin and we looked at one another, family, forged together by damnation and the loneliness of eternal life.
“Is this your idea of a pep talk? Because it’s really terrible.”
She lightly slapped my cheek. “See? Asshole. You behave this way because you’re obsessed with some non-vampire moral code. A code that you created and doesn’t have a place in the real world. Amelia walked in that door and knocked you off your feet. That means something, at least to me it does.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I confessed. “She’s human.”
“And she has incredible free will.” Her bright and alert green eyes penetrated mine. "Grant, for once in your life do what you want to do, not what you think you should do. Everything will turn out okay." I buried my face in her lap and felt her fingers weave through the strands of my hair.
I wanted to believe her, but the consequences were too severe. It was one thing for me to live the life of the dammed. It was another to inflict it on Amelia.
Olivia and I were quiet for some time, talking in our private language for a while, letting my frustration pass. I allowed myself to be soothed since she really was the only one who could reach me that way.
"Grant, come here
," Elijah called from the other room, and I stood up, lifting Olivia with me.
"I'm going to go downstairs while you two play superhero," Olivia said. Before I could argue, she added, “I'll be good, I promise.”
I found Elijah sitting behind the desk, focused on the computer screen. He pointed. "What do these latest entries mean?"
I walked around and read the information on the screen. It was the data I had asked Amelia to enter earlier that day. "After Amelia's incident on Friday night, I went back through the old papers I have upstairs looking for any type of suspicious accidents I may have missed."
His brow furrowed in concentration. "And these names and dates correlate to those events."
"Yes. These abbreviations." I pointed to a series of letters next to each name. "They match to the type of crime committed. AR stands for armed robbery, MP, for missing person, A for assault and so on."
Elijah leaned back in the chair, his long legs stretched out under my large desk. He ran his fingers through his hair for a moment and I waited for him to explain. "You definitely think that more than the murders are connected to these vampires?"
"Yes, Sasha’s attempt on Amelia made that quite clear," I told him. “The missing person reports have gone up dramatically in the last three months. It fits.
"And you're convinced she was not going to kill Amelia that night but take her to the other vampire, the male?" he continued.
“Yes.”
“How many vampires do you think he’s added?”
“According to my numbers, at least seven or so. But there could be more experienced vampires like Sasha around, whom he collected from outside the area.”
“Do you really think he’s forming a gang?”
“Or an army. One of the two.”
I heard Olivia on the stairs and in a second she was in the study, alarm etched on her face.