“Damn, I hate wizards. Never a straight answer.”
“You could not handle a straight answer.”
“Are you trying to scare me?”
“No, I am trying to protect you.”
“Indulge me. Answer one thing, just one thing, with a straight answer.”
“Fine, but you asked for it. Choose your question carefully, and be certain that you really want to know.”
“Should I break off all contact with Marco, is that what you are trying to get me to do?”
“No.”
“Then why would you even make that suggestion?”
“You said one question. I answered one question.”
I was silent for what felt like several minutes before I heard his voice again.
“To break off contact with him would be to kill a part of yourself that has just begun to live. This is not to say where your destiny lies nor what you should do.”
When I still didn’t respond he continued, “When I suggested that you see him less, I did not mean forever.”
“That’s all you ever had to say.”
“Learn to read between the lines.”
“Learn to speak in something besides riddles.”
*****
The next morning I found the blue button on my communicator flashing. Since I’d heard from Marco the night before, there were only two other people who might have left me a message. When I pressed the button, it was Alfred that appeared.
He said simply, “Check the transporter.”
Well, that was weird, but he didn’t appear to be upset. So, I took my time putting on my robe and a pair of fuzzy bedroom slippers, before making my way downstairs. Once I reached the lower levels of the house I noticed how empty and cold Alfred’s lab was without him. It looked the same as it always had, he just wasn’t in it. I walked across the vast room wondering if I should have chosen my question to Mathias more wisely. I asked the one question I wanted to know more than anything else ... and it hadn’t been about Alfred.
Lying in the middle of the transporter tiles was a single piece of parchment. Here, was written Alfred’s attempt at poetry:
I hear you moan in my sleep and your screams delight me.
I dream of flame, and drown in your fire.
Flecks of gold and amber descend upon my eyelids, and burn into my mind.
I long to awaken to amber flame on my pillow ... instead of this wig I’ve been sleeping with.
I burst out laughing and read the next few lines:
Just kidding. See you in a week. Love, Alfred
Even though the ending made me laugh, I had to admit it was good. Alfred was brilliant. It should not have surprised me that he could write poetry also. Then again, I had never seen that side of him before. When friends become lovers, we often find there is a great deal we do not know about one another.
*****
Kat came over the next morning for breakfast. While I made ham and cheese omelets she shared with me some recent pictures of Charles.
“I knew there was a reason you came by other than liking my omelets.”
As I gazed at the pictures she held up I had to say, he was every bit as handsome as Kat said he was.
“Unfortunately, his ass isn’t in any of these pictures,” she said.
“Well, damn. That’s what I was looking for,” I drawled.
I showed her Alfred’s poem, that I’d placed between the pages of my dream journal.
“Wow,” she beamed. “Romantic tendencies displayed simultaneously with a sense of humor.”
“He’s not gay, Kat.”
She just laughed in response.
After a few minutes of topic jumping Kat asked, “So, what will you do about everybody else?”
“What do you mean?”
She looked close to scolding me. “You know what I mean. I know what you said about the wolfman, but what about the cop?”
I sighed. “Kat, he knew this couldn’t be anything more from the start. Remember what I told you?”
“I remember, ‘not forever and always.’ But, I’ve never met a man who enjoyed wasting his time.”
“He’s not wasting his time,” I said defensively. “We’ve developed an excellent friendship.”
Kat stuck two fingers in her mouth and pretended to gag.
I laughed. “You choking on eggs?”
“No, on your bullshit.”
“Yeah? Well, it goes well with some syrup.”
“He could be dating anyone in town he wanted. Hell, anyone in the tri-state area.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that he may not like easy women?”
Kat snorted.
“Remember, men were hunters for thousands of years before modern life domesticated them. You can’t chase something that won’t run, Kat. And that’s half the fun.”
“Sounds like The Big Bad Wolf has rubbed off on you. Or has he just rubbed on you?” she added the last with a wicked smirk.
I chose to ignore her comment about Marco and stuck to the subject. “It’s true, Kat. Not every man out there is looking for a cheap thrill.”
“So, maybe it was expensive,” she joked.
I had to admit that for the most part, she was right. However, it isn’t fair to judge everyone by the same standard. When it comes to romance all men are not created equal. Some may have a wonderful sense of dramatic flair and passion, while they lack the good looks or charm to pull it off. Others may look better than chocolate to your sweet tooth, but they’re assholes underneath. And some are just dogs. However, when I catch myself thinking that all men are dogs, I am reminded that I’m not much better. Of course, that’s not what I said to Kat. What I told her was, “All men are dogs. It’s just a matter of finding the right leash.”
Her jaw dropped. Point for me.
*****
Elijah and I had already made plans for the weekend, but he called late in the week to confirm them. Before then we hadn’t decided on where to go. Elijah wanted to come up with something fun and surprise me.
“How long has it been since you’ve line danced?”
I laughed. “In a club? Never. The last time I did any line dancing was for a charity fund raiser in high school.”
“Think you’re up to it?”
It truly wasn’t one of the high points of my life, but I hated to turn him down flat.
“I really don’t know. It’s been ten years—”
“Oh come on. It’ll be fun. You can bring Kat if you want to.”
I hesitated. I may be from the south, but I’m not exactly the country western type.
“What could be more entertaining than watching a bunch of drunk cowboys try to dance?” he said with a laugh. “I’m just playing. There’s a really nice place a few hours’ drive from here. It’s not just a bar, it’s more of a dance club. They serve alcohol, but it’s not a bunch of drunks. What do you say, try something different?”
Country line dancing was so not my thing. But, I couldn’t think of a good reason to say no, so I agreed. I mentioned it to Kat and she came along too. Charles had to be out of town, so I missed yet another opportunity to meet him.
She came over early Friday afternoon to help me decide what to wear. I did actually own a pair of cowgirl boots, but I hadn’t worn them in years. They were black leather, complete with silver buckle around the ankle and a silver plate on the heel to attach spurs.
“Yippee ki yeah,” Kat teased when she saw the boots.
She was wearing a pair of tan boots with a matching sleeveless vest that she’d turned into a shirt and painted on jeans. Kat had curled her naturally wavy hair so that it hung in dark brunette ringlets to her shoulders. She looked like a real cowgirl, and I felt like a real horse’s ass.
After an hour of looking through everything in my closet, Kat opened the trunk full of my old costumes from when I was in drama years ago.
“Tada,” she said as she held up a pair of black leather pants.
I’m not sure what you
’d call the fringe that ran down the outside seams of both legs, but it was made of strips of leather and normally found on chaps. She even found the matching hat.
“No way,” I said firmly.
“It’s perfect,” she said. “Just try it on.”
A short while later I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my bathroom looking like the villain from every old western. I had paired the pants with an unusual black top. It was sleeveless and made of that stretchy material that I never could remember the name of. Polyester that was it. The shirt dipped into a “v” in front, just enough to show some cleavage. A hint, not a full on tease. The ensemble was completed by my big black belt with the silver wolf shaped buckle.
Once I put on my makeup I turned toward Kat, put the hat on, and tipped it low over my eyes.
“Do you make an effort to look like the bad guy, or does it just come naturally?”
Before I could comment the phone rang. It was Elijah, and he was coming up the driveway. If I had any doubts about my outfit, it was too late to change. I consoled myself by thinking there wouldn’t be anyone there who knew me anyway.
“Ready?” Kat asked.
“I look like part of the female dance review for The Firestarter.”
“First of all, The Firestarter isn’t that classy. And second it’s not like anyone there’s going to know us anyway.”
“That’s what I’m hoping.”
When he wasn’t going to the beach, Elijah drove an old pick-up truck. Kat and I met him out front and he asked, “Which one of you ladies wants to straddle my stick?”
Kat started to raise her hand and I slapped it back down. To our discredit, we both giggled. Elijah had a way of bringing that silly, girlish laugh out of grown women.
“I’ll get in the middle,” I said, trying to regain my composure.
During the drive Elijah and I took turns flipping the channels on the radio and singing along to different annoying songs. Kat flipped some old man who cut us off.
By the time we got where we were going, I had to either get out of the truck, or beat someone over the head.
“What is wrong with you two?” I growled.
“Nothing’s wrong with me. He doesn’t know how to drive,” Kat said.
“Well, I could drive just fine if you could stop trying to drive from the passenger seat,” Elijah spat.
“Shut up,” I directed this at both of them.
People who were making their way to the front doors of the club were starting to stare at us. Just as I was thinking it was good that no one would recognize us anyway I noticed a familiar face in the crowd walking past us.
Lola turned and waved in our direction. I sneered back at her and she turned toward the club.
“Great, that’s just fucking great.”
They both stopped bickering and looked at me.
“What is it?” they asked together.
“You see that bitch right there?” I pointed at Lola’s back.
“Lola?” Kat said at the same time that Elijah answered, “Yeah.”
I turned to Elijah. “Well, she thinks that I’m screwing you, that I’ve kicked Alfred out of the house, and while I’m at it, I’m screwing Sam too!”
“That bitch!” This was from Kat while Elijah said simultaneously, “Who’s Sam?”
“He’s a friend of mine.”
“Are you screwing him?” he asked.
“No, I’m not. You know what else I’m not doing? I am NOT having this conversation with you. EITHER of you.”
I stomped off in the direction of the club.
“Where are you going?” they both asked.
“To get drunk. Who knows, I might start a fight so the night won’t be a total loss.”
Before I’d put so much as one foot through the door the bouncer stopped me with a large hand on my shoulder. He looked more like a muscular tree than a human being.
“Is there a problem?” He nodded back toward Kat and Elijah still arguing in the parking lot.
“The only problem here is you.”
“Come again?” His voice was deep and menacing enough to match the rest of him.
“I said that my only problem is you.”
“And how do you figure that?”
“You’re standing between me and the bar.”
He straightened to his full height and crossed his arms over his massive chest. He was tall with long black hair and pale skin. Tattoos covered most of his bare muscular arms. Sure, the guy was big and scary, but there was something else about him that gave me pause.
“Do they normally let werewolves be bouncers around here?”
His eyes grew wide, but otherwise the man’s expression didn’t change.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He sounded calm, but I knew better.
“Tell me cowboy, have you ever heard of Death?”
A cold sweat could be seen on his forehead and he visibly trembled for a second.
“If you have a point, you should be making it,” he said.
I let one long claw extend from the index finger of my right hand. Since I wasn’t tall enough to hold it to his throat, I pressed it into the front of his pants just enough to pinch.
“Lilith Mercury?” he whispered.
“That’s right, cowboy.”
“Have you come for me?” He sounded genuinely afraid now, and I felt like a jerk.
“Not tonight.”
“Then how can I be of service?” He gulped.
“You can get out of my way.” I jerked my head in the direction of the parking lot. “And if those two ever stop arguing, they’re with me.”
I retracted my claw and he waved me past with a barely audible, “Welcome to The Oasis.”
I made my way through the crowd and over to the bar. After a few shots of whiskey, I decided to have a look around. The large dance floor covered nearly all of the building. Up above you could see what looked like a second story of offices. Someone was probably up there spying on everyone below. To the left of the dance floor was a fake corral that had a mechanical bull bucking away with some nut trying his best to hang on. After you’d jumped on the back of a live werewolf, bull riding was nothing. It’s all in the hips, but I wasn’t drunk enough to demonstrate. On the far right side of the floor was a stage where a live band wasn’t doing too bad of a job. It wasn’t nearly the nightmare I’d expected. The atmosphere was actually pretty comfortable.
About the time that I was starting to feel really guilty for how I’d treated the bouncer Elijah sat down beside me. I ignored him and ordered another drink. I was surprised and disappointed in him and Kat. They were arguing like siblings. It was good to be an only child sometimes.
“I’m really sorry,” he said.
I continued to ignore him and gulped down my sixth shot.
“I acted like an idiot and I’m sorry.”
“And?”
“And I had no right to say what I did about Sam, whoever he is. It was none of my business.”
I remained silent.
“And this is the last chance I’m likely to have for a long time, maybe ever to spend time with you like this and I’ll be damned if I let it be ruined by your stubbornness, my pride, or Kat’s ass on her shoulders.”
Well, that got my attention.
A slow song started to play and before I could bring the next whiskey shot to my lips Elijah placed his hand over it.
“You’re going to dance with me, and you’re going to like it.”
He pulled me to my feet and I said, “I like a man with confidence Elijah, but don’t push your luck.”
“Didn’t you know? That’s how I get most of my exercise.”
Despite my best effort at sulking, I smiled.
He led me onto the floor and swept me into his embrace. When Elijah held me close, the world came into focus again, and as I looked into his deep blue eyes, I couldn’t remember why I’d been so upset.
“That’s better.” He sighed.
/> “Yes, it is.” I rested my cheek against his shoulder with my nose just touching the side of his neck. We danced this way for several minutes and I felt better than I had all night.
“If we ever do get a chance to go out again, remind me to not suggest bringing Kat,” he said.
“What was that all about anyway?”
“I have no idea. It was like getting in the truck with my sister.”
“I thought you and your sister got along.”
“We do, just as long as we don’t have to be trapped in a car with one another. When it comes to driving, she knows everything and no matter what I do it’s wrong. If I’m not driving too fast, then it’s too slow. I didn’t signal soon enough, or I signaled too soon I just—”
I kissed him until he stopped mumbling. I’m not sure what made me do it. It could have been the fact that I realized this was probably our last chance to go out too. Or it could have been the fact that he smelled so good.
“I’m sorry,” I said as I pulled back.
“Don’t be. I needed to shut up,” he said, smiling.
The next song was another slow one, and one of my all-time favorites: You look so good in love, by George Straight. Apparently, the band was taking a break and a DJ had taken over for a while. My opinion of The Oasis was beginning to improve.
As I held Elijah close I knew he realized the sparkle in my eyes was not for him. I cared for Elijah, but he was right about that sparkle. However, I also knew if Alfred didn’t get back soon that could change. Elijah wasn’t the world’s greatest dancer, but he didn’t step on me and he had a nice smile. Sometimes, that’s all it takes. The tempers that flared earlier in the evening were forgotten while we danced and for the next few hours, I had a really good time. We took a break to sit at the bar and I saw the bouncer walk past me toward the back. I excused myself for a minute and called after him.
He froze at the sound of my voice. There was a tension in his broad shoulders that made me feel even guiltier for the way I treated him earlier.
“You got a minute?” I called.
He turned to face me and I realized he was much bigger than my first impression had taken in. Maybe my bad mood had stolen some of his thunder. He had to be at least as tall as Alfred, if not taller. If I had to guess, I’d say he was around six-foot-ten.
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