by Rose Wulf
Eric’s words, apparently, weren’t the ones Jacob had wanted to hear. The sound of a hard slap tore through the air, startling Sarah. Jacob’s low, dangerous voice followed shortly after. “You want to honor Father? Fulfill the mission. Kill that damned girl. But, no, you chose instead to kill an elemental past his prime.”
Jacob’s footsteps stalked away when he was done and Sarah released a breath she could have sworn she heard echoed from the dining room. Trying to soothe her husband’s mood would be a moot point at best, she was sure, so instead, she turned and made her way to the arched entrance to the dining room and the young man standing beside the table. He was glaring down the hall, fists clenched at his sides.
Before Sarah could figure out how best to address him, Eric shoved his hands into his pockets and said, “I don’t know how you can stand being around him all day.” Then he strode down the hall, in the direction that would quickly bring him to the front door.
Sarah looked back to the path Jacob had taken and she sighed again. I’m not sure I could be around him all day anymore. And the fact that she rarely saw him away from the table only seemed to drive that home.
****
Vaughn was starting to worry he was in danger of grinding his teeth to dust as he rubbed his thumb over the back of Angela’s hand. There just wasn’t anything else he could do. Her skin—smooth as always—was still cool to the touch, reminding him that Lillian hadn’t been able to fully heal Angela’s wounds. The damage had been too extensive, too deep, and Lillian’s emotions too raw. Never in his life had he felt more powerless than he did while he sat beside Angela’s pale, unconscious body, knowing he couldn’t do anything to help her. Not knowing when she might finally open those beautiful, sparkling blue eyes again.
His hand tightened around hers. Angie.
“Damn. She still hasn’t woken up.” The voice was Dean’s, but Vaughn understood the frustration behind the words, and the tone, all too well.
Not bothering to look over at Angela’s brother, Vaughn said, “No, not yet.”
Dean stepped up to the other side of Angela’s bed, a severe frown on his lips, as he studied his sister. Seconds passed before he said, “She’s never been out this long before.”
That really wasn’t something Vaughn wanted to hear, even if he’d have been genuinely surprised to hear anything different. She’d already been unconscious for over thirty-six hours, it wasn’t a hard guess. Nearly two days… It was a good thing he didn’t know where to find their enemy, actually. If he did, he suspected he’d have jumped in his father’s car and driven right to their doorstep when he heard she’d been electrocuted. Even now he wanted little more than to get his hands around Eric’s throat. And there was no doubt in his mind that it was Eric who had done this.
“Vaughn,” Dean started after a long minute.
When Vaughn looked over, he found Dean watching him, waiting to make eye contact before continuing.
“Thank you.” His expression was tight with stress but entirely sincere. He held Vaughn’s stare for another second before looking back to Angela and adding, “She’ll be glad to see you … when she wakes up.”
Vaughn opened his mouth, instinctively intending to reply, but found himself unsure of what to say. He let his gaze return to Angela and swallowed heavily.
Dean was nearly back to the door before he called, “We’ll be downstairs. Give a holler if you need anything.” And then he was gone, leaving the door ajar.
An odd thought struck Vaughn, then, and a brief, bitter chuckle snorted out through his nose. That was probably the closest he would ever come to getting her brothers’ approval. It was ironic, since he still needed to find a way to tell her the truth about his heritage. But that was so low on his priority list it didn’t even matter. What mattered, more than anything, was Angela waking up.
“C’mon, angel,” he whispered thoughtlessly, lifting her hand from the bed in order to sandwich it between his palms. “Come back to us.”
He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, alone at her bedside, silently willing her eyes to open. It had to have been hours since Dean had checked in. He was sure he’d smelled the distant scent of food on the air at one point, and he had a vague memory of politely declining Brooke’s invitation to join them downstairs for a meal. But there was always the chance his mind was playing tricks on him to help pass the time, too. All he really knew was that the sun had changed positions on the other side of the thinly covered window when Angela’s fingers twitched in his hand and her faint, sleepy groan reached his ears.
Vaughn immediately snapped to attention and he looked over at her in time to see her eyes flutter open.
Tired, disoriented blue gazed up at him and for a moment, his breath caught in his throat. He’d never been so relieved to see someone open their eyes.
“V-Vaughn?” Angela asked, her voice cracking.
A smile lifted his lips and he gave her hand a deliberate squeeze. “Hey,” he greeted gently. “Welcome back.”
She dragged in a deep breath, tightening her grip of his hand, and her brow furrowed with concentration. “What … happened? Everything’s … hazy.”
Vaughn swallowed, his smile faltering. He hadn’t considered what being the first to see her would mean. He was going to have to tell her about Daniel. “We don’t know, exactly,” he began carefully. “Missy found you in an alley and called Logan. But, Angie…”
“Oh, God,” Angela interrupted with a groan, her eyes squeezing shut and a tear rolling down her cheek. “Daniel. Daniel’s… He’s dead, isn’t he?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry.”
Her breath hitched and another tear escaped. “I-it was my fault!” she exclaimed. Her voice rose as she repeated herself, crying, “My fault!”
“Angela, no,” Vaughn argued, his heart aching for her. Without even thinking about it, he moved closer and pulled her already shaking body into his arms. Her head landed on his shoulder as her hands twisted in the back of his shirt and the sound of her sobs rapidly filled the room. All he could do was try to comfort her. His hands rubbed gently along the length of her spine and he murmured, “It’s not your fault, Angie. You can’t blame yourself.”
She might have argued his logic, but her words were incoherent at best. All he knew for sure was that he’d never seen her break down like she was. Her whole body shook and he could feel her gasping breaths better than he could hear them.
He did the only thing he could think of and held her tighter.
****
“You lied to him?” Hilary asked, her tone and raised eyebrows making it obvious she was surprised by Angela’s mumbled confession.
Angela sighed and leaned back against her bare living room wall. “Yeah,” she admitted guiltily. It had been several hours since she’d woken up from her healing coma, and with the help of a good meal, she felt much better. Physically. Her emotional state, however, was chaotic at best.
It had taken several rounds of arguing, with more than one member of her family, to finally get permission to stay the night at her new house. Vaughn had walked her home, and she’d thought she’d wanted him to stay with her, but then she’d suddenly been overwhelmed by the feeling that he was working up to having some kind of serious conversation, which reminded her of the confession she’d yet to return, and she’d panicked. She didn’t have the stomach for that kind of talk. Not yet. So, she’d lied and told him she wanted to be alone for a little while. She’d said she needed time to grieve on her own and he hadn’t pushed.
Only, she didn’t want to be alone. She didn’t want to be alone any more than she deserved to grieve. It was her fault that Daniel was dead. Her fault her mother had lost a third brother. Her fault the family was grieving. She was the last person who deserved any kind of closure. There’s so much … so much I should have done differently.
“Angie? You still with me?” Hilary prompted, waving her hand in her friend’s face.
Angela blinked, realizing she’d lost herself in her mis
erable thoughts again, and looked away. “Sorry.”
“No problem.” Hilary leaned back, shifted already to face her, and asked, “So why did you tell Vaughn you wanted to be alone? We could have had a big group or something, tried having a little fun to put some positive energy in your life. Vaughn and I get along, you know.”
Trying valiantly not to snort at her best friend’s heartfelt offer, Angela replied, “It’s not that. Although your ‘positive energy’ theory is a little ridiculous.”
Hilary arched a pointed brow. “Coming from the girl who heals broken bones in a matter of minutes.”
Angela’s lips scrunched. “It’s not enough.”
Hilary fell silent for a moment, accepting her point. Then she reminded Angela of the true direction of their conversation with a simple question. “Are you and Vaughn having problems?”
“No!” Angela insisted reflexively, wide eyes snapping back to Hilary’s. But she knew why Hilary was asking. She knew what Hilary was asking about. And she owed her friend an answer. “It’s just … he told me he loves me.”
Clearly more confused than before, Hilary pushed, “But … that should be a good thing, shouldn’t it?”
“I don’t—” Angela cut herself off with a sigh. “I don’t know how to respond. I’m pretty sure I love him, too, but I’m not ready to start a family. What if he is? Maybe I want to finish college first. Maybe I want to find a good job, or travel the world a little, or something, while he wants to settle down right away and raise five rambunctious, overpowered kids?”
“Wow,” Hilary murmured. She shook her head slowly. “Angie, take a deep breath. It’s one thing to know how many kids you’ll have down the road, but that doesn’t mean you have to jump right in.” She gestured to herself and added, “Charlie and I have already decided we don’t want more than two. We’ve also decided to wait five or six years before trying for any.” She stretched her hand out, landing it on Angela’s shoulder, and she offered a reassuring smile. “We’re still young, Angela. You’ve got time. Time to enjoy your youth. Time to finish school, find a good job, and to just let yourself be in love. There’ll be time enough to start your family later. When both of you are ready.”
“You have plenty of time to settle down and raise a family, which means you’ve got lots of time to live a little, first.” Daniel’s words suddenly rang in Angela’s ears and she sucked in a breath.
That was one of the last things he’d said to her. One of the last things he’d said, period, before her impulsiveness had gotten him killed.
Tears stung the backs of her eyes for an instant before spilling over, rolling in solid streams down her cheeks. “It was my fault,” she gasped. Everyone had told her not to blame herself. That she couldn’t control Eric’s actions. They were right about that part, but it was still her fault. She could control her own actions, and she hadn’t. She’d been stupid, Daniel had tried to stop her, and in the end—
In the end, his children would spend the rest of their lives without their father. Because of me.
****
“Has Angela woken up yet?” Riley asked as Vaughn stepped into the kitchen. She was leaning against the counter, supposedly nursing a bottle of water.
Vaughn grunted, angled around her, and tugged open the refrigerator as he replied, “Yeah, finally.” But she was really upset, of course, and now she was uncomfortable around him to boot. That part, at least, was his fault. I should’ve kept my damn mouth shut. To think he’d actually entertained the idea of distracting Angela from her grief by telling her the secret about his family. He was a bigger moron than he’d given himself credit for.
“But I take it you haven’t told her,” Riley said casually.
There hadn’t been a question in her words, so he didn’t bother answering directly. “I thought you were gonna go back to that guy you left behind?” He cringed when the words left his mouth. It was the question he’d intended to ask, but it hadn’t been necessary to phrase it that way.
Riley shifted her weight and lowered her bottle to the counter, quiet for a long second. At length, she finally replied, “I want to see how this all plays out first. If it blows up in your face then I know not to try!”
Vaughn stared at her, dumbfounded for a moment.
“Riley, really,” Vanessa scolded as she stepped into the open-ended kitchen. “At least try to be more sensitive.”
Releasing a breath, Vaughn’s glare fell to the floor. “No, it was my fault.” He paused to ease the refrigerator door shut with his elbow. “Sorry I missed dinner again.”
Vanessa clucked her tongue at him and snatched the apple from his hands. “If you haven’t eaten yet then I’ll cook something for you. I’m sure you’ve been neglecting yourself. Although I thought Lillian was feeding you while you were there.”
“She was,” Vaughn assured her. “I just…” What? Was he actually hungry or just restless? It wasn’t like he hadn’t eaten dinner that night. Christopher had practically prepared a feast in the name of restoring Angela’s energy.
“Just what?” Vanessa asked, arching a perfectly trimmed eyebrow at him.
Vaughn shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets. Turning toward the exit, he replied, “Restless, I guess. Think I’ll go for a drive to clear my head. I’ll be back in a bit.” He was sure his mother would disapprove of that plan, considering how late it was, but he didn’t stick around long enough to hear her response. He didn’t want the lecture. And he didn’t want to risk Riley volunteering herself to keep him company. He was sure Angela had been lying when she’d said she just wanted to be alone, but maybe she’d been on to something all the same. Maybe he needed to be alone.
Which is ridiculous. He’d been alone for a while, one way or another. He’d certainly had plenty of time to think while she’d been unconscious. Plenty of time to dwell on how close he’d come to losing her and how much it might really hurt when he inevitably did. Though he prayed it wouldn’t be like that.
I need more friends.
The thought struck him as he came to a stop, one of three vehicles on the road in the heart of downtown. It was too small a town to have much of a booming nightlife in the middle of the week. The light turned green as he mulled that latest thought over in his head. His lack of a social life had never really bothered him before. He knew plenty of people, after all, but he rarely let them in enough to call them a friend. Angela was pretty much the only person he was close enough with to call up last minute, let alone at night, and reasonably ask for company. Given the circumstances, obviously, that wasn’t an option this time.
He pulled into the empty park parking lot and killed the engine. It wasn’t quite ten, but hardly anyone was out. And he understood. He didn’t particularly want to be out, either. But he definitely didn’t want to be sitting around doing nothing in his parents’ house, and he didn’t exactly have a place of his own anymore. So what did that leave?
Then he was sitting in the passenger side of Angela’s Mercedes, some two and a half years earlier, acting as her second pair of eyes as they stalked Eric and Victor Matthews. Their goal had been to discern the secret hideout of the enemy, and in that, they had failed, but they’d seen enough to realize their enemy was comfortable moving around in the neighboring city. Maybe it meant nothing. Or maybe it meant something. It was a lead that, to the best of his knowledge, had never been properly followed up on.
Then let’s fix that.
Vaughn rolled the engine over again and in minutes, he was on the interstate, headed to the city. He doubted he’d find them strolling down the streets at this hour, but it was certainly worth a look. Maybe he could drive through a few less-populated neighborhoods and see if he was lucky enough to spot a familiar car in a driveway. He couldn’t imagine they lived in standard suburbia, or in any place that didn’t scream wealth. And he had a decent idea of how to look for those kinds of places.
Over an hour passed with nothing to show for his effort.
Vaughn eyed t
he clock on the dash. He’d get an earful if he wasn’t home by midnight, he was sure. He was still driving his father’s car, after all. But he at least wanted to finish sweeping the latest side street he’d found. There were large, very nice houses scattered along the street. Most of them were set back a fair way with long, curved drives and most of the houses looked old—the well-taken-care-of kind of old. The kind that came with old money. Still, what the hell am I doing? Did he really think he was going to take a look at a house and magically know the Matthews were hiding out inside? What were the chances that Eric’s Bentley was parked in the driveway, in plain sight? These houses all had garages, for one thing. For another, the Bentley had taken damage of its own. Eric might not have the thing back at all.
I really am just restless, aren’t I? Sighing in aggravated defeat, Vaughn eased to the side of the road and swung around for a U-turn. The street was completely deserted, so it wasn’t like he had traffic to worry about.
But as his headlights illuminated the largely-hidden drive of another older, two-story house, he saw something that gave him pause. It wasn’t what he’d been expecting and certainly not what he’d been looking for, but it caught his attention nonetheless.
There, in the driveway, talking to a middle-aged woman Vaughn didn’t recognize, was Angela’s other rotten ex-boyfriend, Geoff Solberg. And for an irrational moment, Vaughn struggled with the urge to go over and pound a little respect into the man. In the meanwhile, both people turned squinted eyes and accompanying frowns toward the car undoubtedly blinding them.
Vaughn found himself studying them critically. Was that woman related to Geoff or just the next bed he’d crawled into? They didn’t look related and it seemed like she’d been seeing him out, so Vaughn was inclined to assume the latter. And his headlights were glinting off something that looked suspiciously like a ring on her finger. Like attracts like, I guess.
By the time Geoff started forward, obviously intending to approach him, Vaughn was able to shake himself out of the odd state that had gripped him. He threw the car into reverse, backed onto the road, and straightened before driving off. He didn’t spare them a backward glance.