“I know, right?”
We ate in silence for a while, finally slowing down when we were halfway through our burgers. I tried to ignore the niggling thought in the back of my mind that I was eating as fast as a six-and-a-half-foot werewolf.
“All right,” Kyle said after taking a swallow of beer. “I shared. Now it’s your turn. How’s your love life going? What was the guy’s name? Oliver? Oscar?”
“Owen,” I said with an eye roll. “And really, there’s nothing to tell.”
“Come on. If Frankie knew I told you she had a sense of humor, she’d kick my ass. You owe me.”
“See, she is crazypants,” I said, pointing a fry at him.
He arched a black brow, waiting for me to stop avoiding his question.
“Ugh,” I said, dropping my food onto my plate with a splat. “There really isn’t much to tell. I mean, Owen and I had something—maybe have something, I don’t know—but so long as Theo is around, it’ll never work.”
“You know how to pick ‘em, huh?”
“It’s not that. She left us alone for a long time, but when Owen started breaking his bond with her by sharing too much blood with me, I dunno, I guess she felt threatened and decided to take him back.”
“Seems petty for such a powerful immortal,” Kyle observed.
Theo’s words echoed in my head, and I squirmed. Kyle caught the movement and gave me a questioning stare.
“She, uh, might’ve said it was because of something else,” I said.
“Which was?”
“She said I was the selfish one, because Owen is immortal and I’m not.” I looked away from Kyle, finding it too hard to hold his gaze as the words left me.
He dipped three fries in his ketchup. “I get that. Maybe she thinks you’re the evil one, knowing that you’ll leave him eventually.”
“But not intentionally,” I argued as he munched on his fries. “She’s hurting two people intentionally.”
“Sure, but in her mind, she’s being merciful, you know?” He took a bite out of his burger. “When you die, there will be no getting over you, you know? Because it’s a different kind of pain. And imagine, you’re what, early twenties?”
I nodded.
“So you’ve got about a hundred, hundred and twenty years left. Imagine yours is the only blood Owen drinks for the next century, and then you up and die. What do you think that would do to the poor bastard?”
My burger lost its taste. “Well, if the psychic woman was right, I won’t be getting him back anyway,” I muttered as I started using a fry to draw designs in the ketchup on my plate.
“Psychic woman?” Kyle prompted.
“At Tollis’s camp. There was this woman, Harrietta. She ambushed me into a reading, and she saw Theo and Owen and…”
“And?”
“And Fletcher. At least, I think it was Fletcher.”
“Who is Fletcher?” he asked.
“This vampire who helped me with the whole Roane thing.”
“Another vampire, Mattie?”
Kyle’s voice made me shrink back in the booth. I tried to fight the heat in my face, but I knew I probably looked like a candied apple.
“I didn’t say there was anything going on,” I said, sitting up straight and lifting my chin. “I just said she saw him in the cards.”
“And what did she say about him.”
“That there was a possibility that I could be happy with him instead of Owen. She said following the path that led to Owen was full of pain and heartbreak.”
“Doesn’t sound very appealing.”
“No,” I agreed, “it doesn’t. But I did promise myself that I would pay Theo back for breaking my heart twice.”
Kyle’s eyes darted around the restaurant before coming back to me. “Be careful saying things like that. Places like this have a lot of ears.”
“I don’t care,” I said, meeting his eyes. “She deserves to feel my hate and anger for what she did to me.”
We stared at each other for a few silent moments. I saw the worry in his rich eyes, but I also saw his understanding.
He took a deep breath and picked up his bottle again. “So you think Theo would let you have Fletcher? I mean, aren’t you looking at the same problem?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. Owen was hers to begin with. Fletcher is newer and not in her inner circle.” I realized I sounded very defensive, as if there was something to be defensive about. “Dude, whatever. There isn’t anything going on between me and Fletcher anyway.”
Kyle just stared at me, as if waiting for me to go on. I took a bite of the fries I’d been playing with only to realize my appetite was totally gone. I stared at the other half of my burger sadly until I realized I could take it home.
“Anyway,” I said, “even if Fletcher were interested in me, it would be unfair for me to date him, you know, because of how I feel about Owen.”
“True.” Kyle nodded, setting his empty bottle on the table. “But if you’re even considering the possibility of this other guy, then maybe you don’t love Owen as much as you think you do.”
I looked out the window and watched people moving along the sidewalk, going about their lives like the earth hadn’t fallen out from under them. I’d been holding on to the possibility of Owen for two years without even considering the possibility of another guy. Whether that made me loyal or a doormat, I hadn’t wanted to figure out. But with Kyle’s and the psychic’s words swirling around in my head, I realized I had to take a hard look at what I really felt. Maybe having Theo take Owen away a second time had broken something inside me that didn’t want fixing.
I was the only one who could make me happy, and didn’t I deserve to be happy? Even if that meant letting go of the fantasy of being with Owen? After all, Theo was right; one day I would die and Owen would just continue on. Even I had to admit that was a cruel thing to do to someone I loved.
***
I left Kyle in front of The Brownie’s Bite, and with my doggie bag in hand. I stopped in Ronnie’s shop to buy ingredients to restock my kitchen, praying the workers had done enough work while I was gone so I could get some potions done. Luckily there were a lot of other customers in the shop so I didn’t have a chance to talk to Ronnie – she would want to know everything and my mind was a snarl of confusion and I just wanted to go home. I was grateful Frankie wasn’t behind the front counter when I hit the lobby of our building. I knew she’d be able to smell Kyle on me, and I didn’t want to face her wrath.
I could smell fresh paint and cut wood as I opened the door, and hope fluttered through me at the thought of a nearly completed kitchen waiting for me. Artemis greeted me at the door, twining his furry black body around my ankles, rubbing against me, and purring. I dropped my things on the narrow table beside the door and scooped him up, breathing in his scent. His soothing magic flowed over me, settling my nerves and easing the growing tension in my neck.
“My pretty, pretty boy,” I cooed. “I think you deserve a little treat.”
“Prrrow,” Artie agreed with me, jumping from my arms to walk beside me to the kitchen.
When I stepped onto the new gray tiled floor, I stopped dead. Slowly lifting my eyes, I gasped in awe. I had hoped for countertops and a floor so I could at least use my kitchen, but what I saw was so much more. Somehow they had managed to get all the work done in the few hours I’d been gone.
The floor was covered in beautiful, swirling, gray and white porcelain tiles, not fake linoleum meant to look like tiles. All of the cabinets had been ripped out and replaced with new gray, glass-fronted cabinets and drawers. They had even cleaned my fridge and stove. I stepped forward and touched the countertop with the very tips of my fingers, as if afraid that if I moved too fast, it would all disappear like some complicated glamour. But the counter was cold and firm. Running my hand over the surface, I realized it was sealed concrete made to look like marble. It was a complementary gray and black with little flecks of silver, but it was as smooth as glass. Th
ey’d hung a new pot holder over the stove, and all of my surviving pots were hanging on it. I checked the cabinets and found them stocked exactly the way my old ones had been. Every little detail was just perfect.
“This is incredible,” I said in a breathy, weak voice.
I picked up the folded card on the stove left behind by the workers. They wished me well and provided a phone number to call if there were any issues or complaints. I couldn’t imagine what in the three worlds I could complain about. A tear leaked out of my eye before I could blink it back. Suddenly the trouble and fear I’d dealt with going to see Tollis and Jameson didn’t seem so bad.
“What do you think, Artie?” I said, glancing down at him. He meowed before leaping up to sit on the new counter. “Don’t think I would’ve ever picked gray, but I really like it.”
“Mrroow!” Artie said, circling where his bowls were supposed to be.
I had forgotten to pick up new ones. “Right, sorry. Gonna have to use the strange bowls again.”
I tossed my leftovers into the fridge and brought out a container of chicken salad. I spooned out a heaping serving for my familiar as he sat beside his bowls, purring loudly. I spilled some cream into his other bowl, and Artie butted my hand with his head before I stepped back.
“Maybe I should just become one of those crazy cat ladies,” I said as I put the cream in the fridge. “You know? Just you and me, Artie?” He ignored me and buried his face in his food. “I could buy you a jaunty little hat and a matching bowtie, and you could be the only man in my life.”
“Mmmmrrr,” Artie replied between mouthfuls.
“I wouldn’t actually put you in a hat, jeez.” I rolled my eyes.
With two pots on the stove, I worked on re-brewing the potions that had been ruined in the blast. Halloween was only two days away and Samhain the day after. Half of my orders were due tomorrow and the rest the next night, and Edwin had said he’d be here at seven, which was only about four hours away. I had to get a move on things.
I was just adding a spoonful of fennel seeds to the anti-hex potion when I heard a knock at the door. My hand froze in midair as I turned my face toward the front door, staring at it as if I could see through it. Tapping the last of the seeds into the pot, I set the spoon and jar on the counter and wiped my hands on a towel.
I checked the peephole and nearly stumbled back in surprise. Fletcher was standing on the other side of my door. His brown eyes stared at the peephole as if he could see right through it and see me looking at him. I landed back on my heels, ducking under the peephole.
“Mattie?” he said, startling me. “I can see your shadow under the door and smell your perfume.”
“Idiot,” I whispered to myself.
“Heard that too.”
I unlocked the many locks on the door and lifted the freezing spell before opening the door to see his smiling face. His bright blond hair was artfully mussed, and his brown eyes were as warm and lively as ever. He was wearing the floor-length black trench he favored. It hung open, showing his black mesh shirt over a blood-red shirt and a pair of black pants that lacked any extra buckles or straps. He had even opted for solid black Creepers with a two-inch platform. For Fletcher, it was subdued.
“Well, hello to you too,” he said.
“Heya,” I said, mortified when my voice cracked. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Hey, Fletcher.”
“May I come in?” Fletcher tilted his head, making a lock of hair fall in front of his eyes.
I stared at that lock of hair until Fletcher lifted a hand and waved it in front of my face. I jumped. “Right, right. Come in, please.” I opened the door farther and stepped back.
I stood at the door for a moment after I closed it, taking a little longer than necessary to turn the locks back into place. I’d told myself no more vampires, and there I was inviting another one into my home. I had to be a glutton for punishment or something equally pathetic. I touched the doorknob, feeling the zing of power as the freezing spell took hold. When I turned around, Fletcher was standing right behind me. I gasped and took a half step back, pressing my back against the door. My hands flew to my chest, and tiny sparks of power danced around my fingers.
Fletcher laughed lightly and stepped back to give me a little breathing room, putting his hands up in front of him. “Sorry. I was just leaning in to say hello. Didn’t mean to give you a heart attack.”
“Yeah, no, right,” I said quickly. I slid sideways until I could walk around him without coming too close. Once past him, I hurried into the kitchen to give my spells a quick stir. I needed something to do with my hands. I plucked out three African violets and added them to Fox’s healing potion.
“I just came by to see how you were,” Fletcher said as he walked into the kitchen.
He was taking slow, deliberate steps, and I realized he was trying to be careful not to scare me again. I closed my eyes and silently berated myself for acting like such a huge spaz. The potions were simmering happily and didn’t really need any tending at this point, so I turned away from the stove to face him. Fletcher was leaning a hip against the counter, his arms crossed over his narrow chest. His brows were high, almost disappearing under the fringe of hair.
Yeah, he thought I was acting crazy. Go me.
The psychic’s voice echoed in my head. I tried to beat it back, force it into a box in my mind and lock it away, but it wouldn’t stop. I took a breath and said, “I’m pretty good, I guess.” I hoped talking would drown out that voice.
“I saw you coming out of the Bite with that Were. I was gonna flag you down, but I couldn’t break away from my friends in time to catch you.”
“Friends, huh? Like Georgie?” I didn’t mean to say it, and I definitely didn’t mean it to sound so catty. I hadn’t liked the raccoon-eyed, newly turned vamp girl.
“No.” Fletcher chuckled. “Not Georgie. Just some of the guys.”
“Sorry.” I held up my hand and tried to wave away the comment. “I don’t know what that was. Just ignore me.” Sounded a bit like jealousy, and you know it.
Fletcher stared at me as if trying to puzzle out something on my face. I felt the creeping fingers of heat crawling across my cheeks, so I turned toward the fridge to hide my face.
“Wine?” I asked, opening the door and grabbing a half-empty bottle of some red blend.
“Sure,” he said slowly.
I pulled out two glasses, walked past him to the table, and set everything down, trying not to drop the glasses on the new tile floor. With a shaking hand, I pulled the cork out of the bottle and poured the wine into both glasses, over filling them until the bottle was empty.
Fletcher came to my side, sliding off his coat. I grabbed it and took it into the living room to toss it over the couch. When I came back, he was already sitting, one foot resting on the opposite knee. The mesh shirt turned out to have long, solid black sleeves that came down an inch over his hands, almost making it look as though he was wearing gloves.
“Mattie?” Fletcher asked, snapping his fingers.
I had been staring at his hands. “Sorry.” I put a hand to my forehead and rubbed. “I’ve had a long, weird night.”
“Well then sit, drink with me,” he said, pulling out the adjacent chair for me.
It was a little closer to him than I wanted to be, but if I moved away, it would be totally obvious, and I’d already made an ass out of myself. “Thanks.” I fell into the chair and reached for my glass. The wine was too cold and a little bitter. I grimaced as I swallowed, but I knew it would start to taste better as I drank more.
“We need to get you a wine fridge,” Fletcher said, grimacing as well.
“Sorry. I seem to be saying that a lot.”
“You do,” he agreed with a nod. “Want to tell me about this ‘long, weird night’?”
“Not really,” I answered honestly. There was just no way in the seven hells that I would tell him a gypsy psychic had told me Fletcher could possibly be a wonderful love affair that
would bring me happiness, unlike my relationship with Owen.
“Fair enough. Well, if you don’t want to share, I guess I could get the ball rolling. I’m moving out of the lair.”
I blinked at him. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, swirling his wine slowly. It formed a tiny vortex.
“Why?” I sipped my wine, staring at him over the rim of the glass. One of the main reasons I’d sworn off vampires was because of the hold their master, or in this case mistress, had over them. But if Fletcher moved out of the lair, then he wouldn’t be living directly under Theo. That was one big point in his favor.
“I moved in there when I was newly made because I had someplace safe to live, you know?” He paused to take a sip of his wine. He continued as he stared into the glass, watching the wine move. “But I’ve never really liked living there.”
“Why?” That seemed to be the only question I was capable of.
“Well, there’s that whole sex-club thing Theo’s got going on,” he said, lifting his brown eyes to look at me.
“You don’t like that?”
“No.” His brows drew together and he shook his head, as if it was ridiculous to think anyone could like that part of the lair. It was full of pain and blood and voyeurism, which was all just a little too much for me.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” I said, cupping my glass between both hands, hoping my body heat would make the wine a little more palatable. “I just thought it would be something that most vamps would enjoy, you know? Willing blood donors who enjoy a little pain with their sex? Seems like a home run for you guys.”
“Not for all of us,” he said.
“So why give up your apartment just for that?”
“Living in the lair is rent-free, but that just means you don’t have to pay Theo any money to live there.”
“But you do have to pay her something?”
Fletcher nodded.
“You have to participate in the club?”
“Yes,” he said simply before taking a big gulp of wine.
I felt a little sick. The wine was sour on my tongue, but I didn’t put down the glass. I couldn’t imagine being forced to participate in sex acts that I found abhorrent. It would be a violation, a horrible violation. “I had no idea.”
Samhain (Matilda Kavanagh Book 2) Page 9