by Rose Wulf
“I think we can manage that,” Christopher said as he dug around. He came out a moment later with a small, shiny red piece of fruit in hand. “Aha!”
“Well, aren’t you two in good spirits,” Lillian said as she stepped into the kitchen, catching Angela with her teeth properly buried in the juicy fruit. She offered her daughter a smile and asked, “How did it go?”
“Pretty well,” Christopher replied. “All things considered.”
“That’s good.”
Once she’d swallowed, Angela lowered the apple and asked, “Hey, Mom, did you learn anything new about the story Uncle Nicholas found?” She supposed she should have given equal credit to Daniel, but she didn’t bother correcting herself.
Lillian’s casual smile faltered and faded a little. “Daniel did tell me, but the story was long so I asked him to write it down. From the sounds of it, it seems this might all have started because one of our ancestors fell in love with one of theirs.”
Angela cringed, bit into the apple again, and finally mumbled, “How could anyone love one of them?” It was meant as a rhetorical question, so she didn’t take offense when neither of her parents answered her. Suddenly, she didn’t care to hear the rest, though she was sure she wouldn’t manage to escape it forever. She lowered her snack and said, “I’ve still got an hour or so before I have to be at Dean’s. I think I’ll get started apartment hunting.”
Chapter Three
“You haven’t heard from him at all?” Hilary asked incredulously, a matching shine in her blue eyes as she blinked across the small deli table at Angela.
“Not a single word,” Angela reiterated with a nod.
It had been a week since she’d moved out of the apartment she’d shared with Geoff and he hadn’t made any effort to contact her. Hilary was obviously astonished, and Angela supposed she could understand why, but she’d discovered she wasn’t surprised at all. Nor was she upset. It was as if she’d washed her hands of him overnight, and the less contact she had with him, the better she felt.
Hilary heaved a sigh, took another bite of her sandwich, and grumbled, “That ass.”
Angela grinned. “Please. He gives asses a bad name.”
At this, Hilary laughed and the conversation lulled as they devoted a little attention to their respective lunches. Being the middle of the week, they had only forty minutes to share their lunch break before Hilary’s next class started. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t also time to chat.
“So have you figured out your venue yet?” Angela asked after taking another swallow of her raspberry iced tea.
Hilary sucked in a breath, eyes going wide with barely-contained excitement, and lowered her sandwich again. “I didn’t tell you? Ohmygod, I can’t believe I forgot!” She paused, smiled, and declared, “We got the resort!”
By “the resort,” she was referring to a charming, rustic mountain resort roughly three hours southeast of Darien. It was a resort her fiancé, Charlie’s, family had been staying at for going on three generations. Both his parents and maternal grandparents had gotten married there, and as soon as he’d explained the tradition to Hilary, she’d jumped on board. The couple had gone to the resort for a weekend shortly after getting engaged, so Hilary could decide for herself how she felt about it, and she’d come home raving about how much she loved it. But in order to make it work, Hilary and Charlie had had to change their wedding date twice. If Hilary’s beaming smile was any indication, she wasn’t even remotely upset about that.
Returning her best friend’s smile, Angela said, “That’s great! You’ll have to take me out there soon and show me around, so I’m not running around like a headless chicken on the big day.”
Hilary laughed, paused to drain her soda, and teased, “I think I can manage that.”
Their laughter faded again and Angela returned her attention to the nearly devoured sandwich in her hands. She’d just taken another bite when Hilary spoke again, oh-so-subtly changing the subject.
“You know, now that Geoff’s out of the picture, you’re going to need a date.”
Angela shrugged and hummed a nonchalant response. She wasn’t worried about finding someone to dance with, and she was fairly sure that was Hilary’s point.
“You could ask Vaughn,” Hilary suggested before promptly popping her final bite into her mouth.
Angela inhaled sharply and found herself choking on her lunch. She coughed inelegantly, lowered her sandwich to her plate, and gulped down nearly all her tea before managing to catch her breath. “Isn’t Vaughn already going?” she asked with a rasp.
“That doesn’t mean you can’t go together,” Hilary replied calmly. “It would make things easier on me. That’d be two less people we need to feed.”
Angela narrowed her eyes suspiciously at her friend. “And I’m supposed to believe that’s your only ulterior motive?”
“Who said I have an ulterior motive?” Hilary asked, faux-innocence dripping from her voice. “You’re friends, and neither of you have dates yet that I know of. It seems like an easy solution.”
Uh-huh. All of a sudden, Angela clearly recalled Hilary’s initial reaction to learning she’d agreed to go out with Geoff. She’d told Hilary her upcoming date and Hilary’s response had been a single question.
“What about Vaughn?”
That pretty much summed up Hilary’s opinion of Angela’s latest ex. In hindsight, Angela suspected she should probably have paid closer attention to that.
“I can’t go with Vaughn,” Angela said, suddenly self-conscious. She dropped her gaze to her plate and poked awkwardly at what remained of her lunch. Finally setting about crumbling the sandwich wrapper, she added, “Don’t worry about it, Hilary, I’ll be fine.”
“Of course, you will. But if everyone else brings a date then you won’t have a dance partner. That’s the whole point.”
“I’ll just steal some people when their dance partners are giving their aching feet a rest.” Angela didn’t lift her gaze to her friend’s until she added, “Besides, it wouldn’t kill me to sit out the dancing, anyway.”
“Absolutely not!” Hilary said, even going so far as to point her index finger across the table. “There is no way my best friend and Maid of Honor is not dancing at my wedding. Completely unacceptable!”
Angela couldn’t help but stare at Hilary in shock. She hadn’t expected that reaction. Her hands came up, palms out defensively, and she quickly said, “Calm down, it’s okay! I’ll figure it out. I promise I’ll dance if it means that much to you.” It wasn’t like it would be a hardship. She liked to dance. But jeez, she hadn’t expected Hilary to make such a big deal out of it.
Hilary pulled in a breath, smiled, and crumbled up her own wrapper. “I know you will. But you should really dance with Vaughn at the very least. I don’t know why you’re so insistent on pretending you don’t like him.”
“Hilary!” Angela hissed, suddenly leaning forward and lowering her voice as if the man in question could hear them.
Hilary laughed now and tossed a clean, crumpled napkin across the table at her. “Oh, relax, Angela. He’s not even in here.”
Angela sighed, rolled the napkin onto her tray, and lifted what was left of her sandwich. “I know that,” she grumbled.
This is ridiculous.
Hours had passed and still, Angela couldn’t get Hilary’s teasing words out of her head. What was worse was that she couldn’t even bring herself to pretend Hilary was wrong. She did like Vaughn. She pretty much always had. She’d denied and largely ignored her instant attraction to him in the beginning, back when she’d been under the delusion that she was already in a committed relationship. Her little crush had intensified tenfold when Vaughn had turned around and saved her life from her first bastard of an ex-boyfriend. She’d even thought about approaching him at one point, justifying to herself that it wouldn’t make much—if any—of a difference in terms of his personal safety, but she’d chickened out.
Time had passed. Then she’d
convinced herself she was satisfied, at least for the moment, with Geoff.
But now that that relationship had fallen apart, it was clear to Angela she still harbored feelings for Vaughn. They’d never really gone away, even though she’d gotten better at ignoring them. The problem was, after years of friendship, even considering changing their definition was dangerous. Not in terms of his safety so much as in terms of them. If—or when—the relationship went south, so, too, would their friendship. The last thing she wanted was to lose one of her closest, most trusted friends.
She just wasn’t too keen on ignoring her heart, either. What was a girl supposed to do in that kind of situation?
An unexpected clap of thunder exploded overhead, jerking Angela roughly out of her thoughts. Her eyes widened and her head snapped up to the sky that was no longer blue and spotted with white, fluffy clouds. Now, the sky above her was covered in thick, gray clouds that promised a storm. Something churned in her stomach that may or may not have had anything to do with the faint buzz caused by the increase in the air’s ambient electricity. It had been a while since she’d felt that sensation. Get a grip, Angela. There’s no rule against thunderstorms in mid-April. But hadn’t the sky been nearly cloudless moments earlier? Or had she been lost in her own head longer than she’d realized?
“Well, look who it is,” an equally unexpected, eerily familiar male voice declared from somewhere behind her. An arm curved around her shoulders, then, and the same voice whispered in her ear, “Long time no see, Angie.”
Chills burst down her spine an instant before hot, painful electricity shot through her. There was no denying it, even without the pain. That voice could only belong to her first ex-boyfriend, Eric Matthews.
Dragging in a shaky breath, Angela shoved her elbow into whatever part of him was nearest her and threw her weight in the opposite direction, desperate to break his hold. She succeeded, somehow, and stumbled to the side, almost into the street. She turned around as she caught her balance, still breathing heavily, and glared over at him. His dirty blond hair was a little longer than she remembered and he seemed to have bulked up a bit, but she didn’t care. Although, she supposed the fact that he seemed to have some more muscle than before should have been alarming, since she was entirely alone and trapped on a rarely-traveled side street.
“I see your reflexes have improved,” Eric taunted, voice barely strained, as he straightened.
“I see your disposition hasn’t,” Angela said. Egging him on was probably stupid, considering his obvious advantage, but she couldn’t help herself. There weren’t words for how much she loathed him.
He cocked a brow at her. “Does that really seem like a good idea? I mean, it’s you and me and not another soul. You know I could kill you without breaking a sweat, right?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I know you tried that before and failed miserably. And I know if I can’t at least answer a phone in the next ten minutes you’re going to have a big problem.”
“Oh, really?” Eric began, exaggerated surprise heavy in his voice. “You’re supposed to be somewhere? Don’t tell me, let me guess. One of your conveniently overprotective brothers is expecting you for some family thing. Isn’t that always how it is?”
“I thought you didn’t want me to tell you?” Think, Angela. How the hell are you getting out of this one? Because she really wasn’t supposed to be anywhere for at least a couple of hours. That was the whole reason she’d allowed herself this casual stroll through town. In theory, it was supposed to be some on-foot apartment search, but in reality, she’d just wanted to get some air and let herself think. For once, having succeeded in her goal wasn’t a good thing.
Eric laughed mockingly and slipped his hands into his pockets. The gesture did nothing to relax her. “Oh, I see. You’re stalling. Well, sorry, babe, but I didn’t grab your attention just to chat.”
“Then what do you want?” she asked, knowing full well she wasn’t about to like his response. Is it too much to hope Vaughn will conveniently walk around the corner again? That was one replay of history she’d be all for.
“The usual,” he replied with a casual shrug. “You dead. Burnt like charcoal. Smoking on the ground. That kind of thing.”
“You’re such a charmer,” Angela said, disgust coloring her voice. The biggest problem was that wasn’t at all unlikely if she didn’t figure something out for herself in the next couple of seconds. It was times like these she really envied her brothers. At least they have powers they can fight back with.
Thunder crashed overhead once again and she knew the clock was winding down. She needed to figure out an escape plan immediately or she wouldn’t be leaving of her own free will. Or even on her own two feet.
“I’m done giving you time to think,” Eric said, removing his hands from his pockets and taking a step forward. “In fact, I’m pretty much done with this whole thing. I’m ready to get on with my life, but to do that, I need to end yours.”
Crap. The electricity was piling in the air again and her already-woozy stomach twisted uncomfortably. She could barely see straight enough to think with any clarity. But she knew it was coming and she wasn’t going to get a better warning. Think! She couldn’t fight back. She had pepper spray in her purse, but she’d need to get closer to use it effectively and that was too risky. He was between her and the shortest route to her parents’ house—which wasn’t that close, anyway—so running home wasn’t an option. But there was another street that connected with the one they were standing on. Running somewhere was her best bet. The last time he’d come at her like this, he hadn’t had good enough aim to strike her down. She had to hope that much still held true.
Angela spun on her heel and bolted as fast as she could away from Eric, holding one arm out at her side to keep from bouncing into the wall of the building. The world flashed brightly around her and something cracked and fizzled inside her as lightning hit the ground nearby. It missed, thank God, but it wasn’t far enough away not to screw with her perception for a long second. Everything swam and spun, blurring and running together in a mix of painful colors and searing heat. But she forced her feet to continue moving and prayed they were moving in the necessary direction. It was her only chance. She just needed to figure out where she was actually running to.
“There’s no point in running, Angela!” Eric called from somewhere behind her. Or was that to her left? It was hard to tell with the way she felt. “I know this town as well as you do, you can’t hide!”
I can sure try. If she’d had the ability to form a coherent sentence, she might even have said so, though it wouldn’t have done anything to help.
Her vision finally cleared when she registered the first drops of cold, oddly soothing rain on her skin. Her feet almost slowed as the world came back to her, but she knew better, so she kept pushing forward. Then the nearest street sign came into view and hope flickered to life in her heart. Chestnut.
Vaughn’s condo was on Chestnut.
Later, when she could breathe, she would be horrified to realize her Vaughn-centered thoughts had been inadvertently leading her to him, but right now, she was grateful. There was always the chance Eric didn’t know Vaughn had moved, and so he wouldn’t guess her destination in time to cut her off. More importantly, even if he did, she could probably still make it.
****
Vaughn was reaching for his work shirt, preparing for yet another late shift, when he registered the unexpected sound of rain splashing sporadically against the window. Was it supposed to rain today? He was sure he hadn’t seen anything predicting rain before Saturday. For an instant, the surprising change in weather threw him off, leaving him disconcerted, before he reminded himself it probably was just the weather. Nothing to be even remotely concerned about.
Then his front door crashed open, echoing in his ears like mocking laughter, and he spun to face his half-closed bedroom door. He lived alone, he wasn’t expecting anyone, and none of his usual visitors were in the habit of let
ting themselves in without knocking. A frown dipped his lips and he stilled, listening, as he tried to figure out who his unexpected guest might be.
“Vaughn!” That was Angela, and her voice was unsteady, as if she were scared. Or hurt.
Adrenaline shot into his system and Vaughn darted from his room, not bothering with his shirt. “Angela?” he called, concern tightening his gut. The rain was getting harder.
He heard something solid collapse in the living room, followed by a feminine groan and Angela’s muffled voice. “I’m sorry…”
Vaughn took the stairs two at a time until he landed in the living room. He immediately spotted her, crumpled over the side of his couch and barely clinging to the arm, gasping for breath. Behind her, the front door wasn’t all the way shut, allowing the rain to splatter onto the fake hardwood floor of his entryway, but he didn’t care about that. He couldn’t see any blood or obvious bruising. Somehow, that only spiked his concern. He rushed to her side and pulled her up into his arms. “Angie, what happened? Are you hurt?”
She was shaking and the arms she’d curled around his shoulders were weak. If he released her at that moment, she’d have fallen right back to the floor, despite the fact her feet were still on the ground. Her forehead rested on his shoulder, her skin slick, and something told him it had little to do with the weather. “No,” she gasped quietly. “I just … Eric…”
Vaughn’s eyes widened and he tightened his arms around her. Eric. That explained everything. The bastard was back. It was probably safe to assume his family was, too. “Shit,” he grunted, adjusting his hold to lift her properly from the floor. With an arm securely locked behind her knees, the other still around her shoulders, Vaughn started forward. “Hang on, Angie. You’ll be fine.”
He’d taken two steps toward the door, intending to take her to her mother for healing, when Angela stuttered, “W-wait. He might … still be out there … somewhere.”