by A A Mize
Silence passed between them until Sophie asked, “Have you read my mind?”
“Yes,” he offered slowly, noting the way she tucked her hands between her knees and bit her lip. “But not in the way you are thinking. I needed to know what happened to you the other night, so when I healed you, I also tapped into your memories to see who had attacked you. That is why I reacted as I did.”
Sophie nodded, rubbing her hands around the stem of the wine glass. “So you saw everything she did to me?”
“I did.”
“Hm. And the mind reading thing; is that something all Turned can do?”
“No. Not all of us. It’s a little complicated to explain, as there are many abilities out there, but the Elders have each ability classed, based on difficulty and type. Only the Elders know the range of talents available to us but the more you live, the more you learn. There are simple things such as wall-walking or basic energy manipulation like creating fire; and some that are nearly impossible to learn, like humanoid shape-shifting. Mind reading is not too difficult to learn but the Elders frown upon some of the talents and that happens to be one of them. I can do a little mind manipulation, but it’s more heightening perception than changing it. Yvette excels in mind manipulation but she is more into controlling and changing, which is only increased in power if she feeds from you. But feeding from other Turned is taboo.”
“What else are you capable of?”
Rowan shifted his attention from the fire, propping his head on his fist as he watched her. “All Turned or me specifically?”
“Both. Either. Whatever you’re willing to tell me.”
“Well, all Turned have heightened senses. We are faster and stronger than a human, but that also is affected by our base physiology. For example, I may be far stronger than a human man the size of Artashir, but a Turned of his size is far stronger than me. If Artashir ever got the notion that he wanted to kill me, he probably could.” Rowan said, unconcerned with that scenario. “Likewise, we can get fat if we regularly consume blood from humans who are obese. Or we can become drug addicts for feeding from junkies, which is Matthias’s downfall.”
“I see,” Sophie said, falling silent.
“Do you want me to show you?” he asked darkly, his voice as quiet as the crackling embers.
“Show me?”
“What it is to be like us.” Not waiting for her to respond, he set his glass down on an end table and stood, holding out a hand to her. “Don’t worry, it’s not permanent…unless you want it to be.”
Sophie would be a great addition to his family, making up for his manipulative first Pupil and his junkie second Pupil. She had a good heart and from what he could tell, fiercely loyal. He had learned from his past mistakes, with Yvette especially, and if Sophie chose to join him and be his Pupil, he was certain he could do better with her.
Although she was clearly skeptical, Sophie took his hand and rose from the couch, placing her glass on the coffee table. Rowan pulled her out to an open area between the edge of the couch and the window seat.
“Close your eyes,” he instructed, and she obeyed, allowing him to take her hands in his own. “I’m going to manipulate your mind a little, heighten your senses so you can see what it’s like. Relax and try not to fight it.”
“Okay. I’ll try not to.”
Rowan gently dropped her hands and began to circle her, probing into her mind. “Can you hear it? The thunder rolling in from the West? Or what about the grandfather clock in my study?” he asked, taking delight as her lips twisted into a smile. Rowan drew his fingers across her cheek, down to her chin, then onto her neck as he circled. Her skin prickled at his touch, and she shivered. “Can you smell the rain?”
“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “I can smell the wine and a hint of cigar smoke. This is crazy.”
“You could be like this forever you know,” Rowan offered, nearly whispering as he slowed and circled around to stand before her.
Sophie opened her eyes, and it was as if she was looking at him for the first time. Her eyes met his with a confidence he had rarely seen in her, then she scanned his face. She reached up and touched his hair, pushing a lock back behind his ear and he flinched at her touch. Why was she being so tender to him?
“No. I couldn’t. You tempt me with these abilities, but I’ve seen how lifeless your eyes are and I know it’s because something inside of you died a long time ago.” Sophie placed her hand over his heart briefly. “Thank you for showing me this, but it’s not what I want.”
Rowan nodded, stepping back from her and withdrawing his influences. “I understand. Go now. It’s been a long evening. You should rest.”
Although he had not truly expected her to accept his request, he found he was genuinely disappointed at her rejection. She had brought light back into the old house, though he wasn’t sure how. There was an ominous cloud hanging over the place; one that Rowan could feel in his bones, but something about Sophie made that cloud seem manageable.
“I’d like to finish my wine here with you, if that’s all right?”
“If it is what you wish,” Rowan replied, taking his seat once more to lose himself in the dancing flames.
Sophie had been right about him being dead inside. It was something he’d noticed long ago. There was no specific day when he looked around and realized he no longer had a love for the things he used to; it seemed to have snuck up on him. By the time he realized he was changing, most of his passion was gone and he had no drive to get them back. Cooking and playing the violin were the only things he still had a passion for and even those things exhausted him after a while.
After a few moments he realized he had drifted into his own little world and was neglecting her.
“How do you like the wine?” he asked, trying to start some less personal conversation only to realize that Sophie had fallen asleep, her glass dangling dangerously from her hand.
Quietly, he retrieved the glass, downing the untouched wine in a couple of deep gulps, and placed the glasses on the mantel. Rain had begun to fall again, gently pattering on the windows and Rowan felt oddly moved by the moment. He carefully laid Sophie on her side, removing her shoes and placing her feet on the couch.
She was no femme fatale like Yvette, but there was a beauty to her. Her dark hair had red highlights in the glow of the fire and her skin was dotted with a fine dusting of freckles. There was a pinkness in her cheeks, a sign of her mortality. Rowan touched his own cheek with one hand, wondering if they had held as much color when he was still alive. It had been so long ago he couldn’t remember.
Caught up his own self-pity and the natural music of the night, Rowan pulled out his violin and began to play softly. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to be drawn back to a place so very far away in space and time, to his old family home in Spain. Back to the places he had long ago locked away, fearing the emotions they would draw to the surface.
The manor he lived in and its many wonders had been his playground from birth. He had toddled around on imported carpets, wore the finest silks, ate food fit for kings. The maids and butlers were little more than playthings to torture with frogs and spiders, as even the high-born Rowan was still a boy. A spoiled, selfish, imp of a boy and as he aged how those games changed. Memories trickled back to a time when as a young adult he chased a lovely chambermaid around a ballroom full of gold and mirrors to taste the sweetness of her kiss.
A slight smile played upon his lips at the memory, so close he could almost smell the perfumed air. He could almost hear his mother calling him. His true name. His human name. For he had not always been Rowan, Pupil of Horus. There was a time when he was Damian. Damian de Castillo, son of Rodrigo and Mateline de Castillo. Human. Mortal.
Such a time had slipped from him long ago and as he became lost in his own fantasy, he lost all track of current time. No longer was he five hundred years old, living in New Orleans, tangled in webs of devastating truths and sweet lies; he was a child once more, running through h
alls of paintings, enjoying life with a fullness of heart he had long lost. A fullness of heart he could finally feel reviving.
28
Davis practically ran to Ivanka once his work was finished. He knew she was Turned, but he couldn’t stay away. It was as if she was his own personal Siren; luring him to his death but he’d gladly crash among the rocks for her. He found that all he could do when he was away from her, was think about her. She consumed his every thought and his partner was beginning to notice.
Smith had called him out several times and although Davis knew it was irrational for him to feel angry for having his thoughts of Ivanka disrupted, he couldn’t help but feel his blood boil at the distraction. Not that Davis would explain it to Smith even if he knew how. The feelings he had seemed extremely personal; like a secret kept between lovers. Yes, that’s what they were. Lovers.
His heart nearly pounded from his chest when he knocked on Elizabeth’s front door. Shakily he smoothed his hair and readied the bouquet of flowers in his hands, the plastic made sweaty by his palms. Only a couple of seconds ticked by but his foot tapped on the sidewalk.
“Hello again, Joel. It’s nice to see you.”
“Yeah, you too. Is she here?”
“Of course,” Elizabeth laughed. “She’s upstairs.”
Joel passed he without another word, leaving the woman to shake her head and continue about her business. He pushed air through his lips to calm himself down before knocking on Ivanka’s door.
“One moment,” she called and Joel groaned.
It seemed an eternity before she finally opened the door and let him in. He leaned in to kiss her but she put a finger to his lips and pushed his face away.
“Slow down, Romeo, where’s the fire?”
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he admitted. “I brought these for you.”
Ivanka’s eyes lit up and she took the flowers, wiping one hand on his shirt to free it from his sweat. “They’re lovely. I’ll put them in some water before I go out.”
“Out?” he asked, noticing that she had on pink lipstick to match a long sleeve dress that clung to every curve. A diamond necklace rested against her collarbone and shimmered in the light as she put on matching earrings.
“Yes, out,” she giggled. “I haven’t been out in days and I’m starving.”
“You mean, you’re going to hunt? To feed off of some stranger?” Joel’s stomach twisted. He didn’t like the idea of her lips on another man.
“What other option do I have?”
“You’ve fed from me before. You could do it again.”
“That was terribly deceptive of me and I feel awful about it. I never should have done it just because you were here. Hunting a strange man is far more acceptable than feeding from someone I care so deeply about,” she said, resting her hand on his cheek.
“Please,” he said, grabbing her wrist. “I can’t handle the idea of you being like that with anyone else.”
Ivanka hesitated a moment, her pink tinged lips slightly open as if she was going to protest, but she didn’t. Instead she gave him a quick peck on the lips and turned away from him, fidgeting with a gold bracelet.
“If you insist…”
“I do,” Joel answered, his eagerness causing something deep inside of him to shudder. How strange was it to invite her to drink his blood? And yet he couldn’t fight the longing, the jealousy. He pulled his shirt aside and she looked genuinely surprised.
“Calm down. I’m not going to rush it with you. Sit. Make yourself at home while I slip into something a little more comfortable.”
Joel watched the sway of her hips until she stepped behind an antique changing screen before perching on the edge of her bed. Her silhouette through the pale-yellow screen was enough to set his blood on fire. They hadn’t been together for very long and he’d never seen her in anything less than her day clothes. He watched the way her hands slid off her dress and hang the garment over the wooden frame of the screen. It wasn’t until she spoke that he realized he had been gaping.
“How was work?”
“I missed you.”
“I mean, did you find anything new on your murder victim?” she laughed.
“Oh, yeah. Her. Miller got in some guys that saw her that night and interrogated them.”
“Were they of any help?”
“I guess so. We have one more to investigate but he’s a… well, I don’t have to hide with you do I? He’s a Turned. Matthias? You know him?”
Ivanka froze behind the screen, then continued in a cheery voice. “No, I’m afraid I don’t know all Turned. I’m just visiting New Orleans, remember?”
“Visiting. Right. Why don’t you stay? My place isn’t very big but it’s enough for the both of us. Maybe we can get a dog. I’ve always wanted a dog. Unless you’re more of a cat person? I can deal with a cat.”
“Joel, you know I can’t stay,” she said, peering around to him. “Anyway, you were saying you found some guys who saw her before she disappeared?”
“Yeah, four of them. Matthias is the only one we haven’t been able to bring in yet.”
“Why’s that?” she asked, finally coming out in a satin nightgown. She sat at her vanity with her back to him and brushed her hair.
“His Mentor happens to be the Leader of the French Quarter and he keeps saying he doesn’t have the time to come to the station. But we’ll get Matthias in eventually. We have to. He was the one who was seen with the girl in an alley and he’s the one who got her a cab.”
“Do you think he killed her?” Ivanka asked, hand to her chest.
“Not sure yet. Probably not but we have to question him anyway since he was there. Speaking of which… we got some tapes from the hotel the victim was staying at. Security tapes. You were there that night, talking to the victim’s boyfriend. I didn’t tell Miller that I recognized you but if they find out, which they will eventually, they’ll want to know why you were there.”
“And you want to know before you go defending me. I can assure you that I had no idea who that man was. Do you remember week before New Years and there was that terrible water leak in this room?” Ivanka asked, pointing to the ceiling. “It soaked my clothes and ruined my laptop? While the repairs were being done I was staying at the hotel for a few nights until Elizabeth was ready for me. As for the man at the bar, it was difficult not to talk to him. He was going on about asking his girl to marry him to everyone who had an ear to listen. He seemed nervous about it.”
“He did? What about that phone call he got? Did you happen to hear any of it?”
“Not really. But I did see that it was a woman’s name that popped up on his phone.”
“We already know that. We crossed the time on the tape with the time on his phone and it was his ex-girlfriend that called him. We need to know what they talked about so we can figure out if he had a reason to kill Rachel in order to be with the other woman.”
“You don’t think she’s responsible?”
“No,” Joel admitted, laying back onto the bed. “She broke her ankle and was in a hospital in Florida at the time of the murder. Unless she hired someone to do it, which I doubt, she had nothing to do with the murder.”
“Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more use.”
“It’s okay. Really. We’ll get to the bottom of it one way or another. But there is one more thing I want to ask you.”
“Anything you need, my dear.”
“Why did you leave after Rachel? You stayed at the hotel bar for hours and when she stormed out you practically followed her.”
Ivanka inhaled slowly, her voice laced with irritation. “Joel, if I had thought this would turn into an interrogation I wouldn’t have let you in. But since I know you mean well and you’ve helped me with getting my ID back, I’ll tell you. I left after her because my ride was there. I have a friend who lives Uptown; lovely lady named Celeste. Anyway, she was working that night and ended up staying far later than she intended as a coworker had
taken ill. She just happened to get to the hotel about the same time I did.”
“I’m sorry, Ivanka. I don’t mean for it to seem like I think you’re capable of killing someone. I just don’t want to see anything happen to you.”
“Oh, I know darling,” she said. “If you’ll give me just a minute, I forgot I was supposed to make a call.”
Ivanka blew him a little kiss and stepped out into the hall. Joel listened carefully but all he could hear was faint, hurried muttering. She never raised her voice but he could see her shadow pacing back and forth on the other side of the door. When she finally came back in her smile seemed strained.
“Is everything alright?”
“What? Oh, yes. Just some business is all. But my phone’s off now. It’s just you and me,” she said, gently pushing him back onto the bed.
Her lips met his and every doubt he had faded into the back of his mind.
29
Closing time had come and gone, giving Matthias a reason to heave a sigh of relief as he leaned against the bar to relax for a moment. There were a few hours left in the early morning to hunt, but he didn’t have the heart for it. The episode with Sophie earlier in the night had played in his mind a million times and although his face had stopped stinging a long time ago, the wound on his heart was still raw. He couldn’t remember a time when getting slapped hurt so much and since he was a relentless flirt getting slapped happened quite often.
As much as he had wanted the bar to close up for the night, he was not looking forward to going home and facing Sophie. The coward in him wanted nothing more than to avoid her for a while, but he knew that wasn’t the best option if he wanted to convince her of his innocence. He owed her an explanation. His only hope would be that Rowan would have convinced her to go to bed.
The trying couple of weeks she was already experiencing was getting worse by the day. He tossed his coat onto the bar; eyes shifting to the stool where Sophie had sat the first time he saw her. It seemed so long ago. Time was slowly dragging onward, revealing secrets one by one as if some cruel hand was pulling out the stitches that held his life together.