The Sapphire Talisman

by Brenda Pandos

  Enjoy your soak in the tub.

  I’ll be back soon with breakfast.

  < Me

  Holding the note to my chest, I swooned while reaching out for Nicholas’ presence in the next room and didn’t feel him there. My stomach growled as I imagined what he was picking up for us. I stretched, dangled my feet off the bed, and curled my toes into the fluffy carpet that reminded me of kitten fur.

  Moseying over to the bathroom I expected the floor tiles to be cold, but they felt warm under my bare feet—another lavish mystery. A vast array of French bath gels were perched on the tub ledge in a decadent display. I flipped the tap on, adjusted the temperature, and sifted through the different bottles, smelling each one. The sandalwood fragrance won the sniff test. The rest would be going home with me in my bag and used in the near future.

  I sank into the tub until the hot water was up to my chin, pressed the buttons on the side of the tub, and felt the Jacuzzi jets spring into action. The pampering sprays melted the tension in my body—until I remembered I was going to visit my grandmother today. Nervousness rattled my insides like fall leaves fluttering in the wind. Would she remember me? Could she help me put together the pieces of my broken childhood?

  I imagined a bitter old woman, deeply hurt by the fact her only surviving family members never came to visit her, or worse, riddled with dementia unable to remember the past or even who I was. I decided to stop worrying over something I couldn’t control. Whatever was supposed to happen today would and our conversation would help me; it had to.

  I sank further into the tub until the water level reached my earlobes. Bursting bubbles crackled in my ears and reminded me of the song Nicholas played on the guitar the night before. Our romantic evening in the living room lasted all of ten minutes before I so rudely fell asleep. The fire, his song, the comfy couch, and his peace were a deadly combination for my exhausted state. I remembered fighting with all my might to stay lucid, but my humanity won out, and the sleep that overtook me never felt so good.

  Suddenly, Nicholas’ happiness floated through the door and surrounded me with love. I flipped the drain open and crawled out into a cozy floor-length terrycloth robe, anxious to see him. Wrapping my wet, dishwater blonde locks in a towel, I sat at the powder table. As I quickly applied mascara, I wondered what Nicholas ever saw in me. I felt so plain—boring hazel eyes, heart-shaped face, small simple stature. There was nothing remotely sexy about me.

  After dressing I grabbed my flower and headed into the living area. Nicholas sat at the table drinking coffee and reading the L.A. Times behind the rest of the gerbera daisies that were nestled in a huge arrangement. I blinked and he disappeared, but in the next instant I felt my body encased in his arms, his lips inches from mine.

  “You took too long,” he said warmly. His sweet breath tickled my nose and melted my knees. “I missed you.”

  I leaned in and caressed my lips eagerly against his, unable to wait any longer. He wrapped me into a tight hug and nuzzled my ear.

  “If you start that—” Nicholas said playfully while kissing my temple, “—we’ll be here all day.”

  “So,” I purred and wiggled into his chest. “I don’t mind.”

  Nicholas snorted and I went in for the kill with a kiss that made us both dizzy. When we came up for air I swayed a little. Nicholas, with a wanting gleam in his eye, quickly ushered me to the table, struggling against his inner desire to take things further. I smiled. It was good to know that under all his hardcore chivalry was a man—a man who felt real, manly feelings.

  Heavenly mouth-watering smells wafted from under metal lids set before me. Nicholas placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me to a have a seat. I reached over to discover what was beneath the closest one, but he stopped me.

  “Coffee first.” He placed a paper cup from my beloved Starbucks within my palms, which I took and held ardently. With a sly grin, he waited a second before he revealed the first dish. “Here we have eggs Benedict, fresh peaches with cream, and turkey sausage.” I let out a yum sound. “If you’re still hungry after that—” he removed another lid, “there are waffles with blueberries or biscuits and gravy. Your choice.”

  “All for me?” I asked, stretching my neck forward to gape at the delicacies.

  “I already ate,” he said, expelling happiness—obviously because he’d pleased me. “After dragging you all over last night, I figured you’d be starving.”

  He was right. I nodded, unsure which morsel to feast upon and decided to tantalize my taste buds with the waffles first. Nicholas sat down and watched me eat each bite.

  In embarrassment, I wiped the trickling blueberry juice off my chin and pointed to the abandoned newspaper.

  “What’s going on in the world?” I asked before stuffing a fork heaping with decadent peaches slathered in heavenly cream into my mouth.

  “I was looking up the surf report.”

  “Oh? Are you planning to go surfing today?”

  Nicholas grinned. “No. But this vacation has me thinking I need to do more things I enjoy, like surfing. I miss it.”

  “Why don’t you go more often?” I asked while I assembled the perfect bite of egg, crab, and English muffin doused in hollandaise sauce on my fork. “This crab is yummy by the way.”

  “Lobster actually.” He winked, then looked longingly out the window towards the ocean. “Dawn is the best time to hit the surf, but I’m usually wrapping up a very long night at that point. Going during the day hurts my skin without the talisman.”

  Guilt swept over me. I hated the fact that after he gave me the talisman, he had to give up so many things he’d enjoyed since childhood.

  “I wish there were two necklaces.” I looked down at my half-eaten waffle.

  Quickly he reached out and tilted my chin up. My eyes met his intense gaze.

  “Don’t you dare think this is your fault. I don’t need a talisman,” Nicholas expressed with fervor. “Especially to do something like surfing.”

  I melted, fighting back my tears.

  “I know . . . I . . . it would just be easier for both of us if you did.”

  “Julia, stop carrying this burden. I’m fine. I can handle this,” Nicholas said, digging deeper into my soul with his stare. “What’s really bothering you? It’s hard for me to believe you’re so distressed just because I don’t go surfing as often as I used to.”

  “Nothing,” I lied, and shoveled another bite of peaches into my mouth.

  “Is it that psychic’s prediction?”

  My cheeks bloomed bright crimson and I tried to move my head. Nicholas stopped me from turning away. His hands held my face towards his and the heated electricity in his touch burned me to my core. I whimpered under the intensity and a tear fell. His hand caught it and absorbed the moisture, his touch lingering a second longer.

  “I’m not leaving you, Julia. I will be here to protect you forever. Nothing will change that. I promise.”

  I sniffed, holding back a sob.

  “Yes, but—”

  “The talisman allows us to be together, remember that,” Nicholas said passionately. “I treasure that over everything.”

  “Okay,” I whimpered.

  He gently pulled me from the chair and into a hug. I relaxed into his arms. He’d dealt with worse problems before, and vampires like Alora were all the same: nasty, greedy little cowards who ran at the first sign of defeat. If we conquered Alora this time the threat would finally be over. It was just a matter of when. I had nothing to worry about.

  “We make our own fate,” Nicholas whispered into my hair while nuzzling it. “Mmmmm . . . I like this shampoo, what is it?”

  I pulled away in surprise. “Something from the bathroom.” I grabbed a lock and sniffed it. “I don’t know. It’s written in French.”

  “I’m getting you more. I really like it.”

  I laughed and shook my head.

  “Did you eat enough?” Nicholas asked, shifting back into task mode.

&
nbsp; “I think so,” I said sheepishly, looking over at the half-empty plates.

  “Then grab your things, we’ve got a busy day.”

  I felt weird carrying the oversized floral arrangement through the lobby—almost like we stole it—but Nicholas insisted we bring it along. I figured we’d need to leave it at Sam’s once I picked up my phone later because I couldn’t explain where they came from to Luke or Dad.

  “Mr. Kendrick, please wait up.” A woman’s voice spoke behind us.

  I walked faster towards the exit, but Nicholas turned and held a cool exterior. We were caught for sure until Nicholas brimmed with recognition.

  “Miranda. I almost forgot.” He took an elegant Hilton bag from her hands with a nod. “Thank you. And please call me Nicholas.”

  “Yes, Nicholas,” she said with a blush. “Did you enjoy your stay?”

  Miranda stood before us looking just like a Barbie doll, in a fitted black shift and heels with an exorbitant amount of makeup. She gave me a haughty once over, surprisingly seeped jealousy. I clutched the flowers tighter.

  “We did.” He put his hand around my waist. “Didn’t we?”

  The twinkle in his eye made my legs weak and I nodded back as heat crept up the sides of my cheeks. I didn’t appreciate the way our night had been presented—nothing happened though Miranda was led to believe otherwise.

  “Thank you, again.” Nicholas led me out of the refined foyer.

  “What’s in the bag?” I asked, once we walked outside and my cheeks had a chance to return to normal.

  “A present for you.” He opened the bag so I could see two slender bottles with French wording on the outside.

  I blushed again, a little shocked he remembered. “Thank you.”

  Once in the car Nicholas plugged the address I’d given him into the GPS and I became quiet. I wasn’t looking forward to going to a rest home, and was still worried about what Grandma’s reaction would be to my surprise visit.

  When we arrived at Wilshire Rest Home for seniors and parked, a knot formed in my stomach. The grounds of the four-story building—pristinely decorated with fountains, manicured shrubberies and lawns—seemed welcoming; the inside was another thing altogether. Like all rest homes I’d visited, loneliness topped the charts for the highest ranking emotion. Depressing despair ripped at my heart—such an unfair way to live out the end of one’s life. I gripped Nicholas’ hand tightly as we walked across the path and entered through the automatic double doors. The overall weight of sadness and the antiseptic aroma hit me at the same time. My shoulders tensed.

  “You okay?” Nicholas asked softly.

  “Yeah,” I said and took a deep breath. Let’s get this over with.

  An older woman with curly, short brown hair, and mauve-rimmed glasses encrusted with fake diamonds, sat behind the counter of the reception window. Her kind almond-shaped eyes turned downward to meet the creases of her cheeks when she smiled to greet me.

  “Hello, how can I help you?”

  “I called yesterday about visiting Grace London,” I said timidly.

  “Oh yes, I remember. Julie, right?”

  “Julia actually,” I said with a lump in my throat and looked down, fidgeting with the paper on the sign-in sheet clipboard.

  “Oh, right, pardon me. If you’ll sign here I’ll have Charlie take you to her room.”

  She pointed for me to sign the guest list then provided us with clip-on visitors’ tags. Charlie, noticing the mention of his name, stopped mopping the hall and waited for us to give him eye contact before he proceeded down the hall. Unsure what to do, we quickly caught up with him, but he offered no conversation.

  The stench of loneliness overwhelmed me and I hoped, maybe once we got to Grandma’s room, we’d take our conversation outside. Nicholas’ calm—exuding from his hand into mine—soothed me and I focused on staying within the folds of it, imagining we hid under an umbrella deflecting the stormy unhappiness. It worked temporarily until the feelings managed to sneak under and hit me sideways like hurricane rain.

  I tried to stay calm until we arrived at her door. Charlie knocked gently before pushing it open, and my heart thumped a little faster.

  “Gracie, you awake?”

  Following behind Charlie, I watched him pull back the pastel colored curtain. Grandma sat on her bed while staring at the silent TV with a cordless earphone gadget hanging around her chin. Grandma looked like I remembered, except a few more wrinkles and a fluff of purplish-white hair instead of blonde. I wondered if she’d even recognize me.

  “Gracie, you’ve got guests.”

  Grandma turned with a blink, pulled the contraption out of her ears, and smiled. A glimmer of hope entered her blue eyes and I felt it.

  “Hi, Grandma,” I said. I rounded the corner of her bed, took her weathered hand, and was relieved she wasn’t angry. Her skin felt soft, but her grip was weak.

  “AnneMarie,” she whispered in relief. “You look just like AnneMarie.”

  “No, Grandma, it’s me, Julia.”

  She smiled with understanding. “I know, Sweets. Look at you. You’re all grown up.”

  I blushed at the misunderstanding. “Yes, Grandma.”

  “How refreshing young love is,” she said with a wink. “Thank you, Charlie.”

  As Charlie slipped out of the room, I suddenly felt Grandma’s feelings disappear and my head whipped back around to study her eyes, worried she’d just breathed her last breath. Grandma squeezed my hand in response.

  “Grandma?”

  How did she go completely emotionless? I’d never encountered anyone who could hide from me, except when Enigma was in cat form.

  “I’m here, Love. And speaking of love . . .” she said with a gleam in her eyes; her glance danced between me and Nicholas. “Who’s your friend?”

  I shifted nervously and realized she had uncanny powers of her own. My heart quickened, unsure of the extent.

  “This is Nicholas, Grandma.”

  Nicholas walked over to shake her hand. I moved out of the way and sat in a chair by the wall, concerned what she’d say next.

  “Nice to meet you, Mrs. London,” he said.

  “Grace, please,” she corrected with a smile. “You’re a strong one. And youthful for your age . . .”

  I cocked my head to the side. How could she know he was older than he looked? My eyes flickered to Nicholas’ as his gaze tightened on her. I felt his concern too. He did have a lot of hidden secrets and her insight upon just meeting us seemed too accurate for my comfort.

  “Just like your mother you are, Julia. Like me. And the gift goes on . . .” she said, trailing off in a sing-songy voice.

  Nicholas looked bewildered for a brief second.

  “Nicholas, dear? Would you be so kind as to give me a moment alone with my granddaughter?” she asked sweetly.

  Nicholas nodded his head. “Of course.” His eyes caught mine. “I’ll wait for you in the hall.”

  I nodded and smiled reassuringly as Nicholas left the room. She’d read my anxiety correctly.

  “Is that better?”

  I bit my lip and shifted in my seat.

  “What do you mean, Grandma?”

  A knowing smile crossed her face. “The ability of empathy is nothing to be ashamed of, Dear. What we can do is actually very handy,” she said softly. “Don’t you think so?”

  “Uh,” I stammered, while staring at the tile floor covered with various handmade rugs. My mouth became dry and I swallowed hard.

  Most of the time I hated my ability. It only came in handy when I was being hunted by a vampire, or needed to know if someone was lying or not.

  “You haven’t told Nicholas?”

  My eyes flicked up to hers. “I haven’t told anyone.”

  “I see,” she said in a very neutral tone.

  Right now would be an ideal time to read Grandma so I could know where she was going with this, but she blocked my attempts somehow.

  “Have you figured out how to co
ntrol it?”

  I snorted, holding back my retort. Control? Are you freaking kidding me?

  “Well then, let’s give you your first lesson,” she said and patted the space next to her on the bed. “Come sit down here.”

  Reluctantly, I got up and sat next to her.

  “Okay, now close your eyes.”

  Filled with suspicion, I closed my eyes. Since she did manage to make her feelings vanish on me she obviously knew a trick or two.

  “Visualize yourself looking down onto us sitting here in this room.”

  I sighed, rolling my eyes under my closed lids, feeling very silly, but followed her instructions anyway.

  “Now envision the entire floor of the building. Concentrate to find the sources of the feelings. Do you see the clouds that make up people’s auras?”

  I shook my head no. All I saw was a murky, impenetrable green soup enveloping the entire floor, making it difficult to locate anything.

  “Okay, let’s start simple. Find the closest person to us and will the emotion to stay within their personal space.”

  I focused on the closest person to me: someone in the next room. Their toxic despondency spilled out, ran through the wall, and surrounded me with wispy talons.

  “How?”

  “Imagine pulling something tightly around them to trap their feelings in. Like a blanket.”

  With rapt concentration, a blanket magically appeared and fell over the top of my subject’s head. And, like Grandma promised, the emotions were captured and stayed underneath. I exhaled, then smiled, excited to think this trick might actually work, until I moved to the next person. Once I tried to encapsulate someone new, the first person’s emotions broke through, like a rambunctious two-year-old merely being held by tissue paper.

  “Ugh. I can’t do it,” I yelped in frustration.

  “You’re trying too hard, Love,” she said, her tender eyes peering into mine. “Let’s try this instead. Close your eyes.”

  Grandma took both my hands.

  Suddenly, she was with me inside my body and we watched simultaneously out of the same pair of eyes in a collective mind—hers and mine. I gasped, not sure if I liked the sensation.