Skye Morrison Vampire 2 Sins of the Father (21 page)

Trey got up from his lounger, absentmindedly
thanked me and flashed inside.

I finished the rest of my apple out in the
sunshine by the pool before finally dragging myself inside to take
a shower. There was no one in the house as I made my way to my room
and I stopped outside my bedroom door, momentarily staring at
Archer’s office. I briefly wondered if everyone was in there for
the meeting before I shook my head and walked through my door.

At the sight of my face in the bathroom
mirror, I stopped short. My left cheek was horribly bruised and
swollen and my neck was discolored in a few spots, too. I smiled at
the memory of how I received them and got undressed. I took in the
array of bruises on my arms, hips, legs, and back before jumping in
the shower. The hot spray felt wonderful on my aching muscles and I
took my time relishing it. After I was done I quickly dried off,
threw on my robe and did my hair and makeup. I took special care
applying cover-up and liquid base to the worst of my bruises. You
could still see the bruise on my cheek through all the gunk, but I
didn’t care. I was proud of my bruises.

I shed the robe and walked into my closet,
selecting a pair of grey skinny cords, a vintage black Motörhead
concert t-shirt and my white Doc Marten boots, and hastily got
dressed. I stuffed my phone in my back pocket, grabbed the keys to
the Audi and my messenger bag and walked out of the room.

I heard soft weeping coming from the family
room and paused before I walked in. Trey was sitting on the sofa
with his face in his hands. The crying was coming from him. I saw
Aoife return from the kitchen carrying a box of tissues and she
looked up at me as she handed them to Trey.

“You can come in Skye,” Archer said with a
tired sigh.

My brow furrowed when I took in the seven
despondent faces in the room and I slowly walked in. “I…I didn’t
mean to disturb you in the middle of your meeting. I was just
leaving,” I said swallowing thickly. The sadness in the room was
palpable and I didn’t want to bother them any further.

“Be careful and call me if you need me,”
Archer said to me before turning back to the group.

I nodded my head and quietly slinked out of
the room and into the garage.
Poor Trey
, I thought as I hit
the button on the Audi keys and got into the car.
Poor everyone.
This is just horrible.
I backed out of the garage and waved to
Marcán as I turned and dove down the drive.

When I got out onto the highway, I opened up
the R8. Archer’s car was unbelievably fast and responsive to the
slightest touch of my hands or feet. I was grinning ear to ear by
the time I hit my first red light, forgetting momentarily about my
worries.

“Oh my…I think I love you,” I purred as I
affectionately stroked the car’s sleek dashboard and steering
wheel. I turned on the radio and found a station playing a Stevie
Nicks/Fleetwood Mac music marathon and happily sang along to the
sultry voice of my dog’s namesake.

I made my way downtown and parked the Audi in
a public parking garage. I decided to run a few much needed errands
and stopped at a corner drug store to get a few things. After that,
I hit up Shifty’s Thrifty Threads and found an awesome vintage
Metallica concert t-shirt that I just absolutely couldn’t live
without. As I was walking into Bevo’s Bargain Basement of Books
across the street, I ran into my friend Sissy who was just
exiting.

“Skye! Ah!” she happily squealed as she
wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into a tight hug. “I
haven’t seen you since finals week, stranger! How’ve you been?”

I smiled and hugged her back. “I’ve been
good, girl! How’ve you been? Did you ever hear back about that
job?”

Sissy Schneider and I had a History class
together freshman year and we became friends through one of the
late night study group sessions that she held in her dorm room once
a week. She was pretty wild and carefree like me, so it had always
been an easy friendship for us. Study sessions were never easy on
the boys in our group, though. Sissy was easily the prettiest girl
in our graduating class, but she was always oblivious to her looks.
A tom boy at heart, she had wavy, shoulder length brown hair, green
eyes, and a smile that lit up the room. The boys in school always
referred to her as ‘The Body’ because hers was pretty bangin’, I’ll
be the first to admit.

She wasn’t like most girls. She wasn’t into
fashion or makeup and isn’t normally boy crazy. Sissy was always
pretty down to earth and got along with most everyone. She was
tough little cookie, though. When she graduated high school, her
parents told her that they’d buy her a car. She asked for a chromed
out Harley Davidson Fatboy with screaming eagle pipes instead. It
took a change in her major, but her parents finally gave in. They
didn’t want her majoring in Philosophy like she had planned, so she
chose a respectable and recession proof major instead; she got her
Bachelor of Science in Applied Learning and Development to become a
teacher. Of course, I don’t think she really wanted to be a
teacher; she was just appeasing her parents.

“Yes!” Sissy squealed again as she released
me. “They called me back last week. I’m going to be the special
events coordinator for the largest concert venue in the state! How
exciting is that?”

My jaw dropped and I smiled. Sissy had been
trying to get that job for the past four months. “That’s amazing!
Congratulations!” I said as I gave her a happy high-five. “When do
you start?”

“Next week,” she said, lifting her shoulders
in excitement, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “I leave for San
Antonio the day after tomorrow. I’m so stoked that I’ll still be
close to Austin.”

We stepped out of the doorway to allow a
family of four to enter. “What are you doing right now?” Sissy
asked as she held the door open for the gentleman who had his arms
full with a sleeping toddler.

I smiled at the wife as she passed us.
“Nothing really. I was just in Shifty’s looking for t-shirts and I
thought I’d peruse the bookshelves of Bevo’s since it was close. I
haven’t been in here since mid-terms.”

“Well,” Sissy said grabbing my arm and
dragging me toward her bike that was parked at the curb. “Since
we’re both not busy right now, come have a drink with me. I want to
hang out before I have to leave.”

“Sure, why not,” I said, shrugging one
shoulder. “I’ve got the night off. What do you have in mind?”

“Hop on,” she smiled, nodding her head toward
her bike. “I know a place that has half-price hookahs on
Saturdays.”

“I thought you quit smoking,” I said,
furrowing my brow and pursing my lips in disapproval.

Sissy rolled her eyes and mounted her hog. “I
kind of started back up again, but don’t give me any shit,
Morrison. I already feel bad enough about it.”

Sissy’s grandfather died of lung cancer last
year and it was really hard on her. She gave up smoking afterward
and vowed never to do it again. I figured she’d probably started
the nasty habit back up again during finals week; it had been a
super stressful week for her because she needed to ace two classes
in order to graduate.

“I’m not going to give you shit, babe,” I
said, walking up to her and taking her backpack. I put my messenger
bag over my head and secured it across my body. Next, I slid my
arms into her backpack and got on the back of her bike. “You’ll
quit again when you’re ready, I know you will.”

She leaned back into me and reached one arm
up to hug my neck. “Thanks for taking it easy on me. But, if you
see Bob, I’m still a non-smoker, okay?”

Bob was her dad and had been one of my
regulars at Drop Kick Dan’s for the last 2 years. “I don’t work at
Dan’s anymore, but if I happen to see Bob around, I’ll be sure and
not mention it.”

“You quit Dan’s?” she screeched as she put
her key in the ignition. “Oh I want to hear all about this when we
get to the bar.”

She started up the Harley and drove a few
minutes further into downtown. We crossed the Congress Avenue
Bridge and pulled over into one of the first shopping centers in
SoCo. Sissy angled the bike into the last available parking space
and killed the engine. I held onto her shoulders as I carefully
dismounted and waited for her to do the same.

“This is the place,” she said, taking her
backpack from me.

“Tricky Dic’s, huh?” I asked with a smile,
reading the sign.

“Yeah,” she chuckled, walking over and
holding the door open for me. “They’ve got cheap beer, cheap
hookahs, and the owner is a trip. I heard once that his real name
is Dean or something, but he’s known around town as Dic. He’s
incredibly hot, too.”

I walked in ahead of her and took a look
around. Tricky Dic’s wasn’t just a hookah bar and a beer joint; it
was also a head shop.

“You brought me to a head shop?” I asked,
confused, as I turned back to look at her.

Sissy laughed as she walked past me and took
a seat on a red velvet couch in one of the corners.

I looked around and saw that the decor was
very bohemian and the atmosphere mellow. To the left of the front
door was the head shop counter. Various smoking devices and
accessories lined the ten foot long section of shelves. Further in
on the same side was a small bar with a few barstools in front of
it. To my right, taking up the rest of the place, were six couches
with their own coffee tables, a section with a few giant, four-foot
long bean bag chairs surrounding a recessed circular table, and a
small section of rocking chairs. Beaded curtains hung in-between
each sitting area and there were black light reactive tapestries
and concert posters hanging on most of the walls. The lights around
the sitting areas were dimmed for ambiance and Nailbomb played loud
and proud over the speakers.

Sissy patted the cushion next to her and I
sighed, shook my head, and walked over to join her.

“Only a small part of the business is a head
shop, Skye,” she said with a chuckle. “Lighten up a little.”

I set my messenger bag on the ground next to
the couch and sat down next to Sissy. “I’m cool,” I said a little
defensively as I crossed my legs. “I’ve just never been in one
before, okay? My mother would have a stroke if she knew I was even
in here.” I leaned forward and grabbed the drink menu from the
small rectangle coffee table that was in front of us. “So, do you
know what you want to drink?”

“Yeah,” she said as she picked up the hookah
menu that was beside it. “I’m going to have a bottle of Jester King
Black Metal Imperial Stout. What are you having?”

“Um, I think I’ll try the Twisted X
Chupahopra IPA,” I answered as I browsed the local lineup. “I’ve
never tried their IPA before, have you?”

“Yep, it’s good. It’s got a really hoppy
finish, though. If you like strong IPAs, you’ll love it.”

Just then a tall, muscular man walked over
and stopped at our table. He looked tough, like he knew his way
around a motorcycle or something. “What can I get for you, ladies?”
he asked as he slung the hand towel he was drying his hands off on
over his shoulder. He was wearing ripped faded blue jeans, a black
tank undershirt, and black combat boots. He had blue eyes and his
hair was dirty blond which he wore loose and long. His muscular
arms were covered from shoulder to knuckle in intricate black and
gray tattoos.

“I’d like a bowl of your Starbuzz cherry
shisha and a Jester King Black Metal beer,” Sissy purred as she
smiled up at our handsome waiter.

“And, what can I get you?” he asked, turning
to me.

“I’ll have a Twisted X Chupahopra,
please.”

“Coming right up,” he said with a smirk as he
turned to leave.

“Check out the ass on him,” Sissy drooled as
she playfully elbowed me in the side. “I never get tired of seeing
it.”

I laughed heartily at the lustful expression
on her face. “He’s definitely hot.”

“His name is Zephyr,” Sissy purred and licked
her lips. “He’s the main reason I come in here.”

My eyes widened in surprise. “Sissy finally
has a man-crush? Stop the presses! I’ll alert the media.”

“Shh!” she said with a horrified smile as she
smacked me lightly on the knee. “He’s probably got a girlfriend, or
something. A guy like him can’t be unattached.”

“You never know unless you ask. And besides,
you’re absolutely gorgeous, Sissy. When are you going to realize
that? Do you know how many guys in school would have given their
right leg just for the opportunity to take you out on a date?
Maddox Hoffsteader had, like, THE biggest crush on you sophomore
year you know. He was seriously choice and you never even gave him
the time of day.”

Sissy rolled her eyes and sighed. “Maddox
Hoffsteader is a right-wing conservative and I refused to give him
the time of day because of it. He tried to get me to sign some
whack anti-birth control/anti-women’s lib petition freshman year
and I haven’t spoken to him since. The guy’s a complete sexist
tool.”

“Seriously?” I asked with a disgusted
grimace. “That’s so lame. What the hell?”

“I know!” Sissy said and then shook her head
and changed the subject. “So, are you going to tell me how you got
all the bruises?” she asked with a frown. “I don’t have to kick
anyone’s ass, do I?”

I felt a blush spread hot across my cheeks.
“It’s…it’s not what you think,” I stumbled self-consciously. I put
a hand over the bruise on my left cheek and continued. “I was
training with a new sparring partner today and things got intense.
It was a really great training session, though. I even got to play
with a dagger!”

Sissy’s brow furrowed with worry. “As long as
you’re okay with it, Skye,” she said with a small, reluctant sigh.
“You might want to tell him to take it a little easier on you,
though. You look like shit. People are going to get the wrong idea
and think you’re being abused.”