26
Matthew
Jack had thrown Sean’s book bag, with all its newly cleaned contents, into the trunk of the Sonata with his unconscious body. The time was still ticking for me to get him home before he awoke, but as long as he reacted adequately to the dose, I still had a few hours.
I drove the girls back to the True North Society compound, parking in the underground structure of the North Building, and taking the elevator up to the main levels. I’d texted Aaron to tell him I’d meet him at his office with his sister. His only response was a thumbs-up emoji.
Upon arriving, I noticed Douglas in the room as well, his face as hard as stone.
“What did you do, Mercer?” was his only greeting.
“Saved your daughter’s life, that’s what,” I said, standing in the doorway and allowing Mallory to run to her family.
Douglas opened his arms to receive his daughter, who was in tears by the time she reached him. Douglas was still glaring at me as he held her, stroking her hair, telling her she was safe now.
Aaron stood nearby, arms folded across his chest, trying to uphold his family’s formidable demeanor. He should have known by now that I wasn’t impressed, but I understood he had to keep himself convinced.
“What happened?” Douglas demanded as he let Mallory go, who then went to embrace her brother.
“Someone who shouldn’t have been there weaseled his way in, intent on killing the girls,” I said, purposefully keeping things vague—though I knew that would only irritate him.
“What new threat do we have to prepare ourselves for now?”
“None,” I assured him. “I killed him before he could do any irreparable harm and got them out of there as soon as possible.”
“They should have never been in there in the first place.” Douglas took a few steps toward me, the tension palpable on his face.
“I agree,” I said, meeting his glare. Fiona remained behind me. “Now we have to convince the rest of the Assembly there’s no reason for them to go back and they can finish their candidacy.”
Douglas glanced back at Mallory who was standing beside her brother. Aaron now had a protective arm wrapped around her shoulders. When Douglas turned his attention back to me, his features had noticeably softened. “I guess I owe you a debt of gratitude for saving my daughter and getting her out of that hellhole.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” I said. “It seems they each had an awakening in there, which I hope will be enough for them to move forward.”
“Let’s hope,” Douglas said, turning back to his children.
I wasn’t going to prolong the conversation any longer than necessary, so when Douglas turned his back to me, I took it as my cue to leave. I ushered Fiona back into the hallway and led her to the exit. We walked across the compound, under the stars, and when she saw the foreboding architecture of the Silverado State Prison, she looked over at me with concern etched upon her lovely face.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked.
“Home,” I said and took her hand in mine.
“You’re taking me to where you live?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go home tonight.”
She looked unsure but nodded.
We walked through the gate in the outer wall, and I could feel her pulse quicken through her grip as she took in the sublime surroundings. We breezed through the security of the main building and took the stairs to the third floor, where we were able to catch the civilian elevator.
When the doors opened, the attendant, Peter, exited and gestured for us to proceed into the cab. “Good evening, Mr. Mercer. Miss Winter. Tenth floor?”
I returned the greeting and confirmed our destination, then stepped forward and adjusted his black bowtie.
Peter gladly pressed the top floor button with a white-gloved hand. “I hope your evening has been pleasant.”
“It’s been eventful,” I said and rubbed the outside of Fiona’s hand with my thumb. “Eventful, yet looking up.”
“That’s good to hear,” Peter said, cheerful as always. “Please let me know if there’s anything I can get for you.”
“Fiona, you’re probably famished. Would you like some food brought up?” I asked.
“I… uhh… I’m okay,” she said, obviously having difficulty making a decision, so I made it for her.
“Yes, Peter. Please bring up whatever’s fresh from the kitchen. Fiona could use a good meal.”
“I’ll have it up shortly, sir.”
Once we reached the top floor, I led Fiona to my apartment, stepped in front of the retina scanner, and waited for the door to unlock. I placed my hand on the small of her back and allowed her to enter first, turning on the foyer chandelier so she could see the expansive space before her. I allowed her to explore the adjoining rooms, not saying a word until she did. She stopped at the living room windows, gazing out through the bars at the beautiful lights of Orange County—visible all the way to Los Angeles. The only way the view could have been better was without the bars, providing a constant reminder of what the building was, first and foremost.
“This place is so strange,” she finally said. “I mean, your apartment is gorgeous. The view is stunning. But you broke me out of a prison only to take me to another one. You live in a prison.”
“Above one,” I clarified. “Though we share the building. It’s part of the façade of the compound. You could live here too, once you’re initiated.”
“Live here with you?”
I couldn’t tell if she sounded offended. “In the building, which I also live in. I’m not asking you to move in with me.” I let out a light chuckle to ease the tension I was afraid was forming.
“I didn’t think you were,” she said, smiling back at me, then wandering into more of the rooms. “This sure is a lot of space for one person.”
“Luxury usually comes with ample space,” I said. “It also helps detract from the fact we’re nestled inside a state penitentiary.”
“Only the bars on the windows give it away,” Fiona smirked playfully as she continued to another room, forcing me to follow her around the apartment.
Before she had the chance to venture into my bedroom, the doorbell rang, and I encouraged her to head back toward the main living area. Peter was waiting in the hallway with a covered silver tray of food, which I took from him. I thanked him for his punctuality and brought the tray into the dining room. Fiona had meandered back to the window and came over when she saw what I was carrying.
“That smells delicious,” she said, standing next to me as I removed the lid. Fiona was nearly salivating at the sight of the grilled salmon, asparagus, and potatoes au gratin.
“Please; dig in,” I said, removing the plate from the tray, then pulling out a chair. After she sat, I placed a cloth napkin across her lap and moved the tray and lid to the far side of the table. “How about something to drink?”
“Some water would be great,” she said, gazing up at me with her big hazel eyes, a shy smile steadily growing.
“Of course,” I said and went to the kitchen to retrieve her chosen beverage. I sliced a lemon and placed a wedge in her iced water before returning to the dining room table.
“What about you?” she asked. “Do I have to eat alone?”
“I can make a glass for myself if that doesn’t bother you,” I said.
“It would make me feel better than you simply watching me while I ate.” She still hadn’t touched her food, even though she was clearly hungry.
I did as she asked and warmed myself a glass of deer blood, hoping she could pretend it was simply red wine as we sat together. When I came back to the table with my glass, she didn’t bat an eye, waited for me to sit across from her, then finally dug into her early morning dinner.
“After you’re done, I’ll get you set up in one of the spare bedrooms, so you can get some rest. Then I’ll need to run an errand, something that needs to be completed before sunrise.” I thought of Sean s
till in the trunk of his car, parked underneath the North Building; I needed to get him and his cleaned electronics home. This wasn’t something I wanted to talk about with Fiona. It felt risky enough driving her around in the car with his body hidden just a few feet away from her.
“Couldn’t you just stay for tonight? What’s so important it can’t be done tomorrow?” she asked, her smoky eyes tempting me to reconsider.
“It’s official Society business,” I said. “I’m not at liberty to discuss it. But you’ll be perfectly safe here—and I’ll be back before you know it.”
After dinner, I led her to the spare bedroom next to mine. The covers were clean, and the en suite bathroom stocked. I closed the curtains, then watched as she paced around the room, gazing at the antique furniture and large paintings adorning the walls.
“I’m sorry; I don’t have any clothes for you. Your suitcase isn’t here. I can let you borrow one of my shirts to sleep in, if you want.”
She agreed and followed me into my bedroom while I searched for the largest tee-shirt to act as a nightgown. I found an old Rolling Stones shirt in my bottom armoire drawer and tossed it to her.
“So, this is where the great Matthew the vampire sleeps,” she said, her eyes fixed on my king-sized four-poster bed. “Not exactly the coffin I was envisioning.”
“Maybe this is just for show,” I said with a smirk. “The coffin’s in the walk-in closet, where it’s dark and private.”
“You’re kidding, right?” It was clear she didn’t know what to believe.
“Yes; I’m kidding. You’ve watched too many movies.”
Fiona flung the tee-shirt over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. “How am I supposed to know the difference? It’s not like any of this is accurately documented.”
“And it’s not like we didn’t have a hand in that over the years,” I said with a playful smile.
“Why is that not surprising?”
I nudged Fiona toward the door, thinking I might need more blood to get through the night. I’d spent decades working on my self-control—just like we taught the new vampires in Sisters of Mercy—but it never got easy. If I let my guard drop too much, my self-control would fall just as hard.
It seemed like Fiona’s life was in danger no matter where she was, obliviously living her normal life, in Sisters of Mercy, or alone with me. I had been so busy and consumed with Fiona and Susan that I’d missed my last meeting, and now was a critical time to remain consistent and not relapse. I didn’t want to succumb to another encounter like I’d had with Taylor.
“You don’t want me in there, do you?” Fiona asked as we reentered her bedroom, one door down.
“On the contrary; I probably want you in there too much,” I took her hand to stop her from walking closer to the bed, so she’d turn back and look me in the eyes. I then brushed the hair out of her face and pressed my lips to hers, yearning to taste her, but careful not to bite down and draw blood.
Fiona leaned into me, pushing up on her toes and returning the kiss. We were right back where we had left off before she went away, which was dangerous and only setting myself up for failure and heartbreak. But I couldn’t help wanting her—so much.
“I don’t want you to leave,” she said once our lips parted. Then she wrapped her arms around my waist and nuzzled her head against my chest.
I thought of what I still needed to do. I couldn’t have Sean waking up while still in the trunk of his own car. He’d be more than a little traumatized from that. This work had to be done the same night. But when I looked into Fiona’s eyes, at the undeniable desire in them for me to stay, I couldn’t refuse her. “I just need to make a call,” I said, still considering who would be best to finish the task I’d started. “I won’t go anywhere.”
“Thank you,” Fiona said, holding me tighter and refusing to even let me leave the room.
27
Sean
I thought I knew what a hangover was. I thought I knew what food poisoning was, but I’d never woken up to anything like this. I couldn’t even make it to the bathroom the first time and simply threw up on the floor beside my bed. I was too weak and dizzy to clean it up, so awkwardly crawled back into bed and curled up in a ball, begging for someone to put me out of my misery.
Mom came in at some point, saying I was going to be late for school when she found me dying in bed. She may also have stepped in the pool of vomit soaking into the carpet, which caused her to curse and cringe. It was obvious really quickly that I wasn’t going to make it into school that day.
It wasn’t until late morning that I started to feel like I was going to survive—to pull out of what had so violently attacked me. I still couldn’t get out of bed without wanting to throw up, but at least could make it to the bathroom now, and when I lay on my side, I could finally bear the pain.
By mid-afternoon, I finally got out of bed and went downstairs for something light to eat, hoping to keep it down. I also refilled the water glass Mom had brought up to me a few hours prior.
“You could have yelled for me,” Mom said, sitting at the table, looking through a stack of mail.
“You didn’t have to stay home with me,” I said, taking the loaf of bread from the basket atop the refrigerator.
“You didn’t see yourself this morning,” she said, looking up from the open envelope she had in her hand. “There was no way I was going to allow you to stay home alone in a condition like that. I nearly drove you to the ER.”
“Luckily, it seems that won’t be necessary,” I said, taking a slice, folding it in half, and ripping off a small bite.
“What happened? Was it something you ate? You were working last night, right? You didn’t go out doing… other stuff…”
“It must have been something I ate. I don’t really know.”
“When did you get home last night?”
I tried to think, but the night was a blur. “It was late. One of the closing servers had to leave, so I stayed to cover.”
In truth, a blur was an understatement. Much of the previous night was a gaping black hole. I hadn’t worked, but my family usually didn’t keep track of my ever-changing work schedule. I’d gone to Fiona’s apartment to talk with her mother, to show her the photos of Matthew, but she hadn’t been as concerned about him as I had, seemingly hiding something herself. Then I had left and sat in my car for a while, and then… and then my memory reached the cliff overlooking the black hole. I couldn’t remember anything else.
“Well, go back and lie down,” Mom said. “You can stay home another day if you need to.”
“We’ll see,” I said, taking my bread and water back up to my room.
I didn’t remember even having dinner before talking to Fiona’s mother. I didn’t remember driving home. That scared me more than anything. I peered out of my window and saw my car parked across the street. I never parked on that side, even when there wasn’t a space right in front of my house. If someone else snagged my spot, I always parked one or two houses away, on our side.
Feeling more paranoid and suspicious, I glanced around my room to see if anything else was amiss. My socks and shoes were at the foot of my bed, neatly aligned. My phone was on the desk, next to the closed laptop and the pile of the pictures I’d ripped down from my walls. My backpack was hanging from the back of my chair.
Didn’t my car battery die last night?
Nothing was making sense. Everything seemed slightly off—the kind of discrepancies only I would notice.
What the hell happened to me?
I opened the main compartment of my backpack to review the pictures I’d shown to Fiona’s mother, but it was empty—the pictures were gone. The stack of photos I distinctly remembered being on the floor next to my desk, was now on my desk next to the laptop. I flipped through them to see if the ones I’d brought to show Fiona’s mother were now somehow mixed in with the others. But they weren’t; they really seemed to be gone.
I ran back down the stairs, my nausea currently stifle
d by adrenaline, as I headed for the front door.
“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Mom called from the kitchen.
“I just remembered I forgot something in my car,” I said and headed across the street, not giving her the opportunity to respond. I scoured the seats, searched under them, in the glove compartment, and even the trunk. The pictures weren’t there either.
I didn’t just happen to get food poisoning. Something had happened to me last night; I just needed to remember what.
28
Fiona
I woke up in the bed Matthew had provided for me, restless and wired. My body was tired, but I couldn’t sleep any longer. I hadn’t even slept much during what had been left of the night or into the early morning. After my experiences at Sisters of Mercy, I didn’t know if I’d ever get a good night’s sleep again.
Matthew had kept to his word and didn’t leave on the errand he’d mentioned. I’d changed into the Rolling Stones nightshirt he’d also provided while he was on the phone and was already tucked in bed by the time he returned. It felt good to be in his presence again; even though he was made from the same curse as the other monsters in the hospital, I didn’t see him that way. I saw him as a kind, gentle person, felt safe with him and didn’t want him to leave my side. I needed him with me to be able to comfortably close my eyes at all.
So, Matthew stayed in the room with me. He kicked off his shoes and scooted onto the bed beside me, though he remained above the covers. He kissed me goodnight and I did my best to get some sleep, which didn’t come easy. It wasn’t until he wrapped a strong arm over me that I felt the needed security to finally drift off.
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