by Maria Lima
The attraction now wasn't town, but the properties around the area. Resort ranches, weekend retreats for yuppie investors. Some folks sold out and moved away. Others stayed behind, working their ranches, trying to make ends meet. I wasn't sure of the latest census numbers, but after my kin left a couple of years ago, I would guess there were no more than a scant two hundred souls that officially lived in what was counted as Rio Seco. If you included all of those in the county proper, I'd imagine it was maybe a couple thousand. Now, I'd bet those numbers were more than quadrupled.
It was these people who would re-elect Carlton in the fall and vote on important things like taxes and levies that paid salaries and benefits. I really did understand. He had to keep them happy. In some ways, it was a bit like my own family microcosm—the fragile juggling of duty versus neighbors—of knowing when to let a local kid go when he really should have gotten a speeding ticket, of when to turn a blind, but still watchful, eye when the senior high class (all sixteen of them) sneaked out behind the Super Suds Car Wash to talk trash and drink a couple of beers a few nights before graduation. Thing was, in the Rio Seco hierarchy, there was a semblance of democracy. Nothing like that existed in my clan, that is, unless Gigi wanted it so. She ruled absolutely which, honestly, was only logical given the nature of my clan. When Gigi had said “move,” they did.
I still wasn't sure exactly why she hadn't dragged my sorry ass to Canada with them when they'd left. I can only think that she must have been distracted. That and the fact that she needed someone to watch over Marty. Not that I'd done a very good job of it.
In any case, I did understand Carlton's reluctance. I didn't like it. Part of me wanted him to throw off the mantle of law and turn back into the guy who was once my friend. I wanted to hear him say, “Sure thing, Keira, let me help.” Unfortunately, I may have killed that part of him last October. We were civil, but not overtly friendly. I didn't know if he'd ever come to accept Adam in my life. I supposed it was a good thing he had no clue about Adam's true nature.
"Look, we're wasting time. You can keep asking me and I can keep saying ‘no',” he said. “We're getting nowhere here.” He turned his back to me, muttering a bit as he stuffed a folder into the pile beside the computer. I heard him anyway. “Like always."
I chose to ignore that, like I chose to ignore the fact that this argument was becoming way too close to the other one I kept having—with Adam. What was it about me that I kept asking for things from people I cared about (in various degrees) and kept getting told “no?” Surely, someone at some point had to say “yes.” Was I being that unreasonable?
"Look, I get it, Carlton.” I leaned forward a little, catching his gaze as he turned around to face me. “I understand, really. It's that—"
"I know, Keira. I know.” He watched me for a moment, his expression solid, unchanging, then softening a little. He started to reach a hand out toward me. I could see the emotions flickering, warring, behind his brown eyes. He wanted to help. He wanted—
He pulled his hand back, short of touching me. “Tell you what..."
Carlton stood, the words abrupt as his movement. He reached behind him and grabbed his Stetson. “I've got to go back out and rejoin the search. If I can, I'll poke a few snakes and see if anything turns up.” He adjusted his Sam Browne and placed the hat on his head. “I can't promise you much and I won't go stirring things up, but if I see anything, I'll let you know."
I rose from the chair and extended my hand. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” He gave my hand a brisk shake.
I turned to leave, then paused. “So, the kids, you really think something's wrong?"
He shrugged. “Can't say for sure. We've searched out by Coronado Creek, at the Point and up by any of the places most kids go three-wheeling or even necking. They're not at any of those places. If I weren't getting the feeling something's hinky with the families, I'd have probably figured they're off doing teenage spring break things. I can't put my finger on it.” A look came over his face, and he closed his mouth abruptly as if to stop the next words from escaping.
"What?"
"It's...” He shook his head. “You ever seen those Wentz kids? Their parents?"
I shrugged. “I know who they are, I think. They're all tall, blue-eyed blond WASP types? Mom and Dad are straight out of some Polo shirt, twin-set and pearls ad; kids junior versions of the same?"
"Yeah,” Carlton said. “It was weird. The mom was all ice and polite when I went to talk to her about the kids. Dad's out of town. I couldn't tell if Mrs. Wentz was stoned, drunk or completely emotionless. When I asked for a photo of the kids, she gave me this family portrait thing. The four of them were dressed in matching clothes. Looked like two sets of twins, not parents, older son and younger daughter. Like I said, hinky. Creeped me out."
"By hinky, you meant in a Flowers in the Attic way, not a Children of the Corn sort of way?"
He barked out a quick laugh. “Oh, Christ, I hope not. I've got enough to worry about."
I chuckled, “Yeah, it's probably some sort of teen rebellion thing. I imagine they're all tucked away somewhere wanting to piss off their parents."
"Probably so, but we've got to check it out anyway.” He shot me a measuring look. “Hey, you know, there's one spot we haven't searched yet."
"Where?"
"Out at your new boyfriend's place.” He paused a moment, as if considering what to say next. “We've been trying to get in touch with someone out there all day. Left a few messages with the day manager. He tells me he hasn't got the authority to let my searchers in and that his boss isn't reachable. I was planning to go out there this afternoon, but then you called.” His eyes narrowed. “Are you here because of that? Did your boyfriend ask you to come?” His tone narrowly missed being sarcastic, but not by much.
"Carlton, seriously, what the fuck? I came out here to talk to you about Alex Robles. Besides, the Wild Moon property isn't entirely fenced, there's a lot of land up to the north of the main ranch complex that's open.” And free of vampires during the day, I added to myself. “I promise, if I'd seen any sign of those kids, I would have let you know. Don't be...” I stopped myself before I said something I'd regret. I didn't want this conversation to degenerate into the same argument we'd seemed to be having ever since he'd returned to Rio Seco.
"I'm not being ... whatever, Keira,” Carlton said. He started to say something else, then closed his mouth and took a deep breath. “Look, I could use help. I'm short staffed and short volunteered right now with a lot of folks taking advantage of spring break to go on vacation. I've got four missing teenagers and, evidently, a missing illegal worker and I've spent less than five hours at home in the past thirty-six. I know it's a lot to ask but could you mobilize some of the staff out at that ranch and help us look for the kids?"
I didn't respond right away, because yeah, that made sense in more ways than he could know. Mobilizing a cadre of vampires to search thousands of acres of land would be a hell of a lot more effective than even a much larger group of human searchers. If the kids were anywhere in the local area, they'd be found, even if they weren't out in the open ... or worse. Problem was, none of the ranch residents save the human day manager and his family would be of any use until sunset. Not too far away now, but I'd still have to talk to Adam about it. And there was no way I could explain this to Carlton. He'd have to go on thinking whatever it was he thought. It wasn't as if his perceptions could harm us ... them.
"Let me see what I can do,” I agreed. “And you'll let me know if you hear anything about Alex?"
He nodded and looked at me. Our gazes met and for a brief moment, I saw the Carlton I'd once known behind those now hard-edged brown eyes. Maybe, just maybe, we could salvage what was left of this friendship.
"I'll call you if anything turns up,” I said.
"Thanks."
With that, Carlton pushed past me and headed out the door, held it open and motioned for me to leave.
CHAPTER NINE
; I woke up to a still dark room, a sleeping vampire beside me. After I'd finished talking with Carlton, I'd driven straight back to the Wild Moon and managed to crawl into bed in an attempt to catch an hour or two of sleep before dusk.
Great, Adam was still sleeping, which means I'd slept for a whole—I fumbled for my watch, which I'd dropped on the nightstand. We didn't have an alarm clock and the one clock in the room was an antique analog model hung on the opposite wall, which I couldn't see in the pitch dark.
There it was. I found the button and pressed it to light up the display. The numbers blinked and blurred. I rubbed my eyes. Wait, did it say eight thirty-five? What the hell? Sunset was at about seven-thirty this time of year. How could we have overslept? In the time I'd been sleeping with Adam, he was always awake promptly at sunset. More often than not, I'd be the one still snoozing and he'd wake me up. The few times I did wake up before he did, it was always before the sun went down, usually a few minutes or so.
I'd easily adopted his rhythms. Promptly at sunset, Adam would go from deep sleep to immediately awake and alert, as if a switch turned on the moment the sun went down. He never slept past that ... never.
I sat up and turned on the bedside light. Adam lay unmoving next to me, on his back, all signs of life missing. I pushed back the covers and placed my hand in the center of his chest. His skin was icy to the touch, his body preternaturally still. I waited, holding my own breath, hoping for evidence of the life that usually animated him. It might be magick that made him, but he still needed to breathe, not as often as humans, but his lungs still used oxygen and his heart would beat once or twice in the space of several minutes. Even in sleep, he'd be more than a corpse. He'd never looked like this before.
I made myself wait five extremely long minutes straining to feel movement, to feel breath or the quiet thump of a heartbeat. Nothing. I closed my eyes and concentrated, straining with my other senses, reaching to sense him. Damn it. Nothing.
I didn't want to go further, without permission, it's horribly intimate digging into a person's inner energy, but I had to. I couldn't feel him. Even when someone is asleep, I can feel an aura. Normally, Adam's was cool, green and calm, a low hum always present underneath the surface. Now, I sensed the same nothingness as in his outer appearance. I reached, letting my consciousness go, past the surface, past the stillness, searching—there.
Cold. It is cold, dark, a black hole. All light, heat, sound sucked down into the deep well. I am lost in the darkness, nothingness surrounding me. Something is down there, waiting for me. I do not wish to, but I must go. It calls to me.
With a wrench, I pulled myself away both mentally and physically, moving to the edge of the bed. Wherever he was, was not good.
"Adam,” shouted, reaching over to slap his face quickly, pulling my hand away before I got caught up in the darkness again. “Adam!” No response.
I scrambled off the bed. I needed to get to the phone, call someone, Tucker, Niko. Get someone here to help me. Phone, where was my bloody cell phone? I couldn't remember where I'd dropped my backpack when I'd come in. Where was—wait, stupid, I could use the regular phone.
A gasp and shudder from Adam stopped me in my tracks.
"Adam?” I moved closer to the bed, watching him.
He blinked slowly a few times and, as if in slow motion, turned his head toward me as he started to lift himself to a sitting position. He braced an arm, paused, blinking again, shaking his head. One deep breath, a pause, then another. With visible effort, he sat up and leaned against the headboard.
"Keira ... what is it?” he croaked out, his normally smooth, rich voice gravelly and broken.
I approached cautiously, unsure. “It's well past sunset, Adam. I couldn't wake you. What—are you okay?"
"Past sunset, that's—” He closed his eyes, concentrating. A moment later, they flew open and he stared at me, then at the clock on the wall. “How...?"
I got onto the bed and sat next to him. “I don't know. I woke up and you were...” I waved a hand. “Out of it.” I hesitated, not sure if I should tell him I'd invaded his privacy. No, I had to.
"Adam, I tried shouting, slapping you and finally I looked deeper."
"Deeper?"
"With my senses. Wherever you were was cold and dark. I felt you leaving, going into the darkness."
Adam frowned, a puzzled look on his face. “I don't recall dreaming,” he said. “Was I dreaming?"
Did vampires dream? That was news to me.
"I don't know,” I answered truthfully. “It felt real. I was going to call Niko."
"Don't.” The bald command surprised me.
"Why?” I asked. “You weren't responding. I'm still not sure you're completely tracking now. I thought you were dying, Adam. I'm not a healer and have no idea about your physiology, but I do know whatever is going on with you is not good. Maybe Niko can help. You haven't been well for a while and this was pretty much the rotten cherry on the top. Something's wrong."
"I'm fine, Keira.” Adam crossed his arms and glared at me, eyes glittering in the soft light of the bedside lamp.
"No, damn it, you're not.” I got off the bed, going from worried to angry in a flash. “Adam, are we even on the same page here?” I stalked to the other side of the room, eating up the distance far too soon. Before I'd walked off my reaction, I reached the opposite wall and had to turn around.
"I'd have thought we were in the same paragraph.” Adam's voice remained quiet, a sharp contrast to my own frustration. He sounded stronger now, more like himself. That didn't negate the fact that less than fifteen minutes ago, he was lying like a dead human, the kind of dead you didn't ever wake up from.
"Bloody freakin’ hell, Adam. At this point, we're not even in the same library.” This was it, I was pulling out all the stops. I could not sit by and watch him fail. “You're avoiding sex. You're avoiding hunting, avoiding blood and still drinking that half-assed substitute that wouldn't keep a cockroach alive for long. You were asleep well past sunset, which you've never done in the time I've known you. Plus have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately?"
He was pale—not the naturally occurring pallor of what I'd assumed was standard vampire health, but tinged with an underlying tone of grey. Nothing obvious. Nothing that a casual passerby would necessarily notice, but I was far from a passerby and definitely a hell of a lot more than casual. I'd seen variations of this in those I'd helped cross. Relatives who were ready to die.
Adam wasn't there yet. I didn't see any of the calm acceptance, the need to pass on, in his eyes. As far as I was concerned he wasn't going to get to that point ... at least not under my watch. Hypocritical? Yeah, but right now, that didn't matter, because no matter how much I'd sworn to allow people their own choices, I knew this wasn't Adam's choice. It couldn't be. I'd felt his reluctance when I'd sensed the darkness. If that was some metaphor for death, he wasn't ready for it.
"If this keeps up, you're going to die.” I paced some more, needing to get my angry energy under control.
"I'm already dead."
"Technically, I believe the term is ‘undead',” I snapped back. “Damn it, Adam, whether you like or not, something is wrong with you. I'm thinking you don't trust me enough."
"I trust you."
"Then what the hell is going on?"
He dropped his gaze and said nothing. I waited, not patiently, because at this point, I was about as far from that state as I could be, but something in me recognized that if I didn't get my own emotion under control, I was likely to walk out of there and not turn back. I wasn't quite ready for that. Not yet. We'd barely gotten started ... relatively speaking.
"I don't know,” Adam said after a long pause.
Well, that wasn't what I was expecting.
"You don't know.” I said flatly, all the anger washed out.
"Keira, I know you want answers, so do I. I know I've been avoiding you, avoiding looking at what's wrong. I'm sorry."
I bit my lip before the wor
ds, you bet you're sorry, slipped out.
"That said,” he continued, “I would prefer to address this at a later time."
"Later—"
Adam's hand came up. “Please, Keira, I promise you that we'll talk about this, but not now. I have some duties in my office I need to attend to, including signing that ranch contract and meeting with Niko and some others. I'm already late."
Yeah, you're late because you overslept which is something you never do, I thought, but kept this to myself. I pondered his expression briefly. He watched me back, his face a study in neutrality. Over the years, I'd learned to read a myriad of neutral expressions. My family was rife with variations on bland faces, but they had nothing on vampires. In my short association with this group, I'd soon realized that for vampires, neutral was less Switzerland and more stone-face. I wasn't going to learn anything Adam wasn't willing to share.
"Okay,” I conceded. “After. We'll talk.” But this time, buster, you'd better be prepared to face some brutal honesty.
"By the way, I'm coming to the office with you,” I said over my shoulder as I headed to the shower. “Tucker and I need to fill you and Niko in on a couple of things."
"Things?"
I could hear the raised eyebrow.
"I'll tell you when we get there,” I shot back and stepped under the hot spray. Two could play the “later” game. I wasn't above being a little petty.
CHAPTER TEN
Niko lounged against Adam's desk, all long limbs and leather trousers, arms crossed against what I was saying. Adam sat in his chair, dressed in his own version of vampire chic, elbows propped on the chair arms, hands steepled in front of him, face serious. I stood behind one of the guest chairs in front of the desk, my hands on its high back.
"So you want me to muster out my security force to look for these teenagers who may or may not be missing and for some guy's brother?” Niko drawled in amusement. “Some guy we don't even know."