by J. L. McCoy
I pulled back and looked up him with wide, confused eyes. “Hunter,” I whispered his name softly in shock. I had no idea he had felt that way about me.
He looked down at me a bit bashfully and if a vampire could blush, he would have. How long had he felt this way about me?
“You owe me a drink, sugar,” Trey said, pulling my attention away from Hunter. I was glad for the interruption. I didn’t know what to say to him or how to act now that I knew how he felt. God bless Trey for feeling my confusion and rescuing me.
“No, I owe us a bottle!” I smiled brightly as I ran into his arms and hugged him. The emotions between us were powerful. Hugging another Empath was an experience, let me tell you. “Thank you so much, Trey. Thank you for allowing me to drink from you. I know it wasn’t a great experience, but the fact that you would do that for me means the world to me.”
“Well, honey,” he said seriously, pulling back to look at my face, “YOU mean the world to me and like I’ve said before, I’d do anything for you.”
“Love you, Trey,” I whispered as I looked up into his big blue eyes.
“Ditto, sister,” he whispered back, his eyes tearing up.
Archer interrupted us, handing me a steaming hot hand towel to clean up with and a big bottle of Macallan 1939 to Trey. My mouth opened in surprise when I saw the prestigious label. “That’s a $10,000 bottle of scotch!” I squeaked.
“This is a special occasion,” Archer smiled, pulling me to his side and slinging one arm around my neck. Aoife flashed into the kitchen and I could hear her getting out glasses for everyone.
“Not that special,” I laughed as I looked around the room at my new brothers. Everyone was smiling and for the first time in weeks we were all happy; the problems of our world forgotten for this one moment.
Aoife doled out the glasses as Trey broke the seal on the bottle and poured everyone three tall fingers. Lastly, he poured mine and Archer’s.
Archer raised his glass and we all followed his lead. “To family! Sláinte!”
“Sláinte!” we replied, clinking lowball glasses together.
*****
“Skye, are you almost ready?” I heard Trey call out to me from my bedroom doorway.
“20 minutes,” I called back as I dusted my face with finishing powder.
“Get a move on, sister! I’ll meet you in the living room.”
I was putting the final touches on my makeup. I had to beg Archer to let me work tonight; he almost made me stay home, but I ultimately got my way in the end. Turns out he can’t resist my blinky doe eyes and full lip pout.
Being a newborn vampire didn’t mean I should have to be cooped up in the house while everyone else pulled double duty to run the club. We were shorthanded as it was with Jameson being out on tour with his band, The Manky Langer. Besides, I needed to get out of the house and do something normal. I came way too close to death this morning and was feeling like I needed to live a bit.
As I fixed the eyeliner on my left eye, my colorless globes caught my attention again. It looked like I was going to be living an eternity with shocking white irises. I guess I should have been grateful that my pupils still showed. Having completely white eyes would have been unnerving. The only change in eye color I had to look forward to now, was when my eyes turned completely black… but that was only whenever I felt extreme anger. That, in itself, was nothing to really look forward to. Having no whites in my eyes when I was angry was just as freaky as my colorless, un-angry eyes. It was pretty much a lose-lose situation any way I looked at it. Oh well, I thought silently. Things could always be worse.
I sighed as I swiped on another coat of red lipstick and then stepped into my six inch red stilettos. I adjusted my boobs, smoothed down my black, pleated micro miniskirt, and headed into the bedroom to grab my messenger bag.
“Knock, knock,” Archer purred from my doorway as he rapped on the frame. I turned and smiled at him as I fixed the back knot on my red handkerchief halter top. “Wow. You look incredible.”
“Thanks, honey,” I grinned and allowed him to give me a hand.
He tied the string behind my back and then softly, slowly ran one fingertip up my bare spine, across my right shoulder and down my arm. I shivered slightly at his touch and closed my eyes as he leaned into me, grabbing onto my hips, to whisper in my ear, “I love you in this outfit, Cion.”
“You say that about every outfit I wear,” I chuckled.
“Maybe because it’s true,” he whispered softly as he kissed the hollow behind my ear.
I smiled, closed my eyes and tilted my head further away, giving him better access to my neck.
Archer kissed a delicate trail down my neck before sighing and pulling away.
I turned to him with a questioning look. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” he smiled. “I would like to talk to you about something, though.”
“Oh?” I asked, surprised. Normally he came right out and said whatever was on his mind.
He took my hand and led me over to the white chaise lounge by my bed. “I want to talk about what happened in the basement earlier… about what happened between us,” he said as he squatted down in front of me.
“Okay,” my brow furrowed slightly. I was worried he was about to tell me that he thought what we shared before my testing was a mistake.
Archer took a breath and smiled as he tucked my hair behind one ear. “I want you to be mine.”
“What?” I asked, not sure I had heard him right. He did not just say what I think he said.
He chuckled and tried again. “I want you to be mine, Skye. I would ask you to be my girlfriend, but that word is so trivial. It doesn’t even begin to convey what you mean to me. You would be much more than a girlfriend to me; you would be my life partner. I want to share everything with you; my bed, my home, my heart.”
I gasped softly as the full weight of his words sank in.
Archer gently took my hand again and stared up into my eyes. “I have waited centuries for you, Skye Morrison. Will you be mine?”
A wide smile slowly spread across my face and I leaned forward to interlock my fingers behind his head. “Yes,” I whispered happily. “Of course I will.”
Archer’s eyes lit up and he smiled as he stood up and lifted me with him. He captured my mouth with his and I wrapped my legs around his waist and held on as he kissed me until both of us were breathless.
“You’ve got no idea how happy I am,” Archer whispered as he rested his forehead against mine, his hands gripping my ass.
“Oh,” I purred, wiggling against his hardness, “I think I have a pretty good idea.”
“Shall I show you now?” he growled as he circled his hips against me.
“I’m not sure we have time,” I breathed against his mouth and wrapped my legs tighter around him.
“You’re right. It will have to wait until tonight. It’s going to take hours for what I’ve got planned for you,” Archer growled sexily. “I’m going to enjoy making you scream my name, Skye.”
My lower abdomen tightened with need and I moaned with excited anticipation as I brought my mouth to his again. “I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy it too.”
Someone cleared their throat and Archer politely set me down again so that my underwear wasn’t on full display. “You’ve got a call, sir,” Pádraig said quickly.
“Thank you, Pádraig,” Archer said as he adjusted his shirt cuffs.
I watched Pádraig leave and turned back to Archer. “Duty calls?”
“Unfortunately,” he sighed but then smirked sexily. “See you in a bit, love?”
I nodded my head and kissed him once more before he left.
Archer and I are official. I smiled widely and tried to suppress a gleeful squeal as I grabbed my messenger bag and sat on my bed. I started taking out the needless junk that had accumulated in it, when the chime of my BlackBerry stopped me cold. I looked around the room and under pillows trying to find where I had put it. I hadn’t chec
ked my messages in eight days, at least. (When the bout of depression claimed me, before I was made a vampire, I put down my phone and hadn’t thought about it again until now. I found out that I had been in the coffin for two of those eight days. Turns out, my rebirth was anything but normal and took twice as long as it should have.)
Chapter Sixteen
I found my phone in the bottom drawer of my nightstand and pulled it out. The battery was almost dead so I plugged it into the charger as I perused my missed calls list. Four missed calls from my mother, sixteen from Jameson, one from Dean, and two from Nikki. I sighed when I saw how many times Jameson had tried to call me. Jameson. I missed him and wished he was here so I could apologize to him for the way I acted the last time I saw him. His last memories of me as a human were of my trying to attack him after he flirted with Courtney, one of the club’s cage dancers. I desperately wanted to tell him what happened to me, what I had been through these last twenty-four hours, but Archer forbade it.
I stared at the small screen and debated calling my mother. I knew she would ask if I had quit my job yet and I didn’t want to get into a fight with her tonight, so I told myself I’d call her later. I would have to face her someday but today wasn’t it.
I pulled up my text messages and scrolled through them; nearly all were from Jameson.
Monday, July 9, 2012 --- 11:18am --- “Skye, we need to talk about what happened at the bar last night. Answer your phone.”
Tuesday, July 10, 2012 --- 6:47pm --- “Skye, I’m starting to get worried. Trey told me you’ve been in your room for two days. Please talk to me.”
Tuesday, July 10, 2012 --- 11:18pm --- “I’m sorry. I know I fucked up. I was so angry at you but I shouldn’t have flirted with Courtney. I know that hurt you and I’m sorry, Skye. Please answer your phone.”
Wednesday, July 11, 2012 --- 2:23pm --- “Check your voicemail.”
Wednesday, July 11, 2012 --- 9:49pm --- “Everyone is really worried about you. Trey is freaking out. I made him bring you the phone a few minutes ago and he said you looked like complete crap and you threw him out. If you won’t talk to me, Skye, at least talk to someone. You’re really scaring everyone. I love you, Skye… no matter what happens between us. I’ll always love you.”
Thursday, July 12, 2012 --- 4:16pm --- “I can’t stop thinking about you. I think about you every minute of every day, wondering if you’re okay… if you’ll ever find it in your heart to forgive me for what I did to you. I know we were broken up, but I still shouldn’t have disrespected you that way at work. There aren’t enough ‘I’m Sorrys’, a luaidh. There aren’t enough words to tell you what you mean to me. I love you, Skye Morrison. I’ll love you until my dying breath. I miss you…”
Friday, July 13, 2012 --- 12:21pm --- “Well, at least I know you’re alive. Trey told me they pulled you out of bed and made you start living again. Did I do this? Did I hurt you so bad that you couldn’t face anyone? It’s killing me, Skye. I need to hear your voice, even if you don’t love me anymore. I need to know you’re truly okay. Please call me. Please, Skye.”
Friday, July 13, 2012 --- 11:58pm --- “I broke down on stage tonight when I sang your song. Syd had to step in and pick up lead vocals for me. It hurts too much… I can’t keep doing this… The band is mad at me because my head isn’t where it should be. I left it back in Austin along with my heart. I can’t keep chasing you, Skye… Your silence… it’s killing me.”
Saturday, July 14, 2012 --- 4:07am --- “You broke up with me, remember?! You made that choice! So what if I flirted with whatever her óinseach name was?!?! She’s nothing to me. She’s not you. Ciach ort! Why am I the only one miserable here? Why do I keep calling you and texting you? WHY?!? It’s obvious you don’t love me… Well, fuck you. I deserve better. Is it Archer? Is that why you won’t call me back? It’s him isn’t it? It’s always him! I see how you two are together. Bet you’re talking to him… Ciach ort, Skye Morrison! How I ever let myself get twisted up with a human is beyond me…”
Saturday, July 14, 2012 --- 7:39pm --- “Please ignore my last text message. I know it was horrible. I wasn’t myself. I was really wasted last night… really, really wasted. I’m so sorry I talked to you that way. I’m just frustrated and hurting. No one will tell me anything when I ask about you. They just say you’re ‘fine’. Trey is avoiding my calls all of the sudden, Archer is upset about something and won’t talk to me. I feel like everything is falling apart. My band… we got into a huge fight last night over you. They keep telling me to forget you, to move on. How can I move on when my heart bleeds for you? I can’t keep doing this to them. I love you Skye, but this is my last message to you. If you refuse to talk to me, then so be it. I love you and I always will, but I have to focus on this tour. My band deserves my full attention. The guys have worked so hard to help make us what we are today. I’m not going to piss all over their dreams just because I’m heartbroken… It’s not right. I’m getting my head back in the game, as hard as that is to do. I’m here if you want to talk but I won’t hold my breath. Take care of yourself, Skye. I miss you.”
My hands were shaking hard by the time I finished reading. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I had utterly crushed Jameson and I felt so guilty that he had been having a hard time on the road because of me. He didn’t deserve that; he deserved to be happy and carefree. He deserved to enjoy his first tour experience, not to be caught up in a bad episode of ‘My So Called Shitty Life’. Jameson deserved someone who would love him fully and who would cherish all the wonderful things he had to give. I felt too damaged, too broken now. I wasn’t the same person now as I was last week or even last month. A lot of things had changed for me and Jameson deserved better than what little I could offer him.
My voicemail reminder chimed again so I pressed ‘1’ and waited for the voicemails to play.
“You have six new messages.”
“Message one. Wednesday at 2:14am: My hand to God, I didn’t mean to/After all of what we’ve been through/Men come in different shades/It’s how we’re made.”
The slow, soulful song washed over me. I immediately recognized it; it was the song ‘These Days’ by The Black Keys. Their album ‘Brothers’ had been one that Jameson and I had spent a lot of time listening to when we laid in bed and talked at night. The emotions behind the words tore at my heart. It was a song of apology, pain, longing, of remembering the good times and wishing you could go back and of being tired.
My eyes quickly filled with tears and I tried to blink them away, but it was no use. The second message started playing before I had a chance to pull myself together.
“Message two. Wednesday at 1:52pm: Girl you treat me bad and I know why/I’ve seen you running around with another guy/And you think if you hurt me then I’d go away/But I’ve made up my mind/You know I’m… I’m here to stay.”
This time it was Jameson himself singing “Never Gonna Give You Up” by the same band and playing acoustic guitar. My tears had suddenly turned into a flood and I threw my phone across the room, just wanting to shut him out, to make the gut-wrenching pain stop. What have I done to him? My sweet, soulful Jameson… I had ripped his heart out and stomped on it. I felt like the worst person in the entire world. I had blamed him and broken up with him because of what Archer, Hunter, and Trey did to me. He was innocent; he didn’t deserve what I did to him. After all, he saved my life when Hunter’s Divine Power caused me to have a heart attack. Without his healing power, I probably would have died.
I wanted to talk to him, to call him and tell him how sorry I was for hurting him, but I knew I couldn’t. Archer asked me not to talk to Jameson while he was on the road. He thought my condition would be a distraction for him. Now I understood there was more to it; I had been distracting him the whole time he had been gone. He didn’t need me reappearing in his life after he had started to get over me. I may be a bitch, but I wasn’t a heartless bitch. I’d keep my promise to Archer and not call him.
Besides, what could I
say to him? I’m sorry? Sorry I broke your heart into a million little pieces? Sorry I fell in love with your brother; your father? I’m sorry I fell in love with two men at the same time?
I heard my phone beep again and glanced over at what was left of it. It had been completely smashed, but somehow it was still playing my messages.
“Message three. Saturday at 6:51pm: Darling, it’s your mother. I think Professor Fitzhugh found a position for you at the history museum in downtown Houston. Isn’t that exciting? You need to call me back, please. Why aren’t you answering your phone? Hope you are well. Love you.”
I groaned as I flashed over to the pieces of my BlackBerry and stomped on them, silencing the voices for good. Not only did I have to worry about how much I hurt Jameson, I had to worry about my meddling mother trying to find me a job away from the city I adored! Fuck my life. I need a drink. I honestly couldn’t take one more thing happening to me today.
I grabbed my messenger bag and stomped off to the living room to find Trey.
“What’s got you in a huff?” he asked with wide eyes as I entered. He was sitting on the couch with Pádraig enjoying a bag of blood and some light conversation with his boyfriend.
“My mother!” I frowned as I threw my bag down and took a seat next to him. “What’s with us and having the most meddlesome mothers; always sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong? Your mother would have had you married off to the neighbor girl if you hadn’t left home. What happened to us cutting out our own path in life; letting us grow and experience and choose for ourselves? I’m an adult gosh dang it!!!”
“Goodness gracious, child,” he whistled as he pulled me into a side hug. “Your britches are in a bunch! Talk to Trey, sugar. What happened?”
“Before I turned, when Mama came for a visit, I told her I was quitting The Mausoleum. She took it upon herself to find me a ‘proper’ job. Now I have to listen to voicemails from her telling me some Professor FitzPrissyPants has found me a job at some museum in Houston. I’m not going to lie, it would have been great two months ago when I graduated, but I can’t even think about any of that now. I’m a vampire. My place will always be here with you guys, my family.”