Authors: Jennifer Abrahams
“What? You slept here? In the bar?” Skyla paused. “In this … den?” she said as she remembered Mara’s welcome.
“Yes. We all do. My sister and I lived here for about thirteen years, since we were about 15 or 16.”
“What about your parents?” Skyla asked.
“Steve became our parent. He kept watch over us. We grew up here along with Peter. Peter had been here for about two years when we arrived. He had his eighteenth birthday ceremony right after we came. James stays here with us. He is in charge of the bar, and the den.”
“What about Mara?” Skyla asked. She looked down so that he couldn’t see her eyes.
“Mara has been here for a long time. She came when she was just a little girl. I remember her first night. She cried like a baby. She was way too young. Fifteen or 16 is better, easier.”
“She cried? Was she taken here against her will?”
“Well, what is the alternative? She had no one else to take care of her. Steve was real decent to take her in.” Alex stood up and dressed.
“So, is she like a sister to you then?”
Alex smiled. It was his turn to look away. He stood up and got dressed.
As if on cue, Mara slowly and deliberately sauntered down the stairs again.
“Hi,” Mara said. She walked over to where Skyla was sitting, touching Alex on the arm as she passed. “Nice bed, isn’t it? I sleep here every night. Makes me feel closer to Alex.”
Alex grabbed Skyla’s hand, pulled her up, and led her to the bathroom. They cleaned up together. It felt oddly comfortable. There was something very comforting about the den. It felt cozy. She had that familiar feeling, like she had known Alex for her entire life.
Maybe this is what it means to be in love
. She had never experienced this intimacy before. She had never felt closer to a man than she did right now.
Skyla decided that she would not ask Alex another question. She would wait until later.
Mara lay down on the bed. She nuzzled into the pillow and began to cry. She made sure she was finished and back upstairs before Skyla and Alex were through in the bathroom.
When Mara returned upstairs, James gave her a hug. He knew how hard this was for her. He knew her heart was broken.
Alex was Mara’s, after all. How could he do this to her?
Lucy remained neutral. She walked out the door. It was after midnight and she wouldn’t be back until daylight.
James stayed to hold Mara for a while longer.
What will Steve think when he returns? He wouldn’t be happy with this mess. Alex should never have come back.
James thought about saying this out loud to Mara, but he stopped himself. He tried to stop thinking it, too. He would keep his thoughts quiet for the rest of the night.
Mara and James sat down at a table to listen to the band. Peter leaned back against the bar. Tourists walked in and out. Some regulars camped out at the far end of the bar, and eventually the drinking started to take effect. The customers became more boisterous as it neared 3 a.m. The band began another set.
A synthesizer did the introduction, and then the drummer started banging away. The guitarist joined in, and the lead singer stepped forward with his shiny black bass guitar strapped around his neck. The singer swung the bass forward and was joined by his pretty blond assistant. The two belted out the first line of the Kings of Leon song like their lives depended on it.
Alex and Skyla emerged from the basement. They sat at a table across the room from James and Mara. The table was the closest one to the stage, and Skyla and Alex wouldn’t be able to talk over the music.
Skyla felt Mara’s glare. She ignored it. After all, Mara was just some little girl who’d lost her family and had had to grow up in this godforsaken place. She made a mental note to find out just how Mara came to lose her family in the first place. Seemed like there was a lot of that going on in these parts.
The band played for an hour or so. The last few songs had a smoky, bluesy sound that Skyla found she adored. Skyla noticed how no one seemed to pay much attention to time. The day swirled into night and then spun around again. Skyla did her best to keep her attention on Alex. He made it easy. He grabbed her hand on the table and gave her little side smiles every so often. As long as she didn’t look at James, she was okay. If she happened to look over, she got the shivers—the hair stood up on the back of her neck and time slowed down.
The band started to disassemble the equipment, and James and Mara stood up. James nodded to Peter, and Alex saw James and Mara slink out the door. Alex did his best to keep Skyla otherwise occupied so that she would not notice the exit. He kissed her with a passion that she’d never known before.
Skyla’s head began to spin. Maybe it was the late hour. Maybe it was the last few shots of tequila that Peter had put on their table. Either way, it was time to go. She would ask Alex to take her back to the hotel now. She longed to be where nobody would be listening.
He knew what she was thinking, so he took her by the hand. They left with a wave to Peter.
Peter watched and shook his head as they sauntered out into the Quarter.
What’s Alex thinking getting attached to that one? She was brought here for one reason. She was to be James’ in the end. Alex is setting himself up for disappointment. He is hurting, Mara too. Steve will be real upset when he returns from making the deliveries.
*
The hotel room was bright and hot when Skyla rolled over. Alex lay with his arms behind his head, staring at the cracked ceiling. She stretched and gave him a peck on the cheek. She felt sore, and her head started to spin. She put it gently back down on the pillow and stared at the same crack. There was silence. Maybe too much silence. It grew uncomfortable. All the questions she had in her head began to twirl around:
Who is this James? Is he the same one from New York, the one from the café? That can’t be possible.
And now that Skyla thought about it, she realized that every time she’d experienced the terror, Alex had appeared right afterward. She couldn’t put her finger on it. She couldn’t remember how she’d gotten here in the first place. Time for a call to Brooke to get her head screwed on straight.
“I can’t tell what you’re thinking now,” Alex said. “Do you know that?”
“How would I know that? How is it that you can do it at all? Why can the others from Steve’s Place do it, too?”
“I can’t hear your thoughts, because you don’t want me in. You are making a conscious effort to block me from getting inside you. That is usually a learned skill. Blocking and reading are both possible with enough practice. I could teach you.”
“Really? I used to be able to finish people’s thoughts all the time when I was younger. It doesn’t work anymore, though. I have forgotten how to do it. I used to be able to do lots of things like that. I think that it scared me, so I made it stop.”
“We will make it start again then.”
“I don’t know if I want it to start. I have been warned that I might be harmed from someone from a past life. I don’t want to be open to that kind of thing.” She explained as best as she could, but she was afraid to tell him much more. She’d probably told him too much already. She didn’t want to experience another episode like the one with Craig. She had been so sure about Craig’s feelings and had been grossly mistaken.
“Well, sometimes it doesn’t matter what we want in this life.” Alex got up and went into the shower.
Skyla shook off his shifting mood. She took out her cell. She still had the three unread text messages. She decided to go through them and erase. No doubt they were all from Brooke. She didn’t even have to read them, but she did anyway. The first two were the same: “CALL ME!!!” Both of them were from Brooke, of course. The last one was different, though. It was from an unknown number. It must have come when they were driving to New Orleans yesterday. Skyla opened the message. It read, “Welcome home.” A shiver crawled over her flesh.
“Maybe it’s a joke from Brooke,” she said out loud. She knew it wasn’t. She knew there was something strange going on here.
-Fourteen-
Blood
Lucy unhitched the cellar doors that led from the alleyway into the depths of Steve’s Place. She slinked down into the kitchen, a glimpse of sunlight sneaking in behind her. Mara had walked in just minutes earlier and joined Peter at the stainless steel breakfast island that moonlighted as the food-prep area for the chefs. As a general rule, all inhabitants of the den besides James, who slept during daylight hours, congregated for a daybreak breakfast. Mara and Peter were leaning in close over the spread, but the whispers ceased when Lucy reached them.
Lucy grabbed a piece of ham and put it on a biscuit. She ate it while her eyes darted back and forth between Mara and Peter. Lucy would not waver when it came to her twin. The others called her unreasonable. Peter had complained in his thoughts that she couldn’t be persuaded to see the situation from other angles. She sat straight-backed and tight-lipped, daring them to speak out.
Mara took the bait. She was young, after all. “You know, he didn’t even come home for my eighteenth birthday. He knows that is the most special day. He could have been here. He should have been here.”
Mara’s eyes welled up. She was about to cry, but Lucy stopped her in her tracks.
“Really? He should have been here? Why is that, Mara? Just because Steve promises something doesn’t mean it is going to happen. Alex is a free soul. He needs time. I believe he will come back to us for good, but don’t think he is yours. He hasn’t decided.”
Mara gathered her courage. “He has been mine since the start. He waited for me. Why would he leave just months before it was about to be my special time?”
Peter put his hand on Lucy’s back to quiet her down. Everyone knew she had a point. An eighteenth birthday is the big day. It is the ceremony they had all worked toward, especially Mara. She had been so young when she arrived. She had worked for a long time to earn her rightful place with them. Steve had to promise her many things to keep her on track, and the others went along with whatever Steve said. Alex didn’t make any of his own promises, but he definitely didn’t dispute any of Steve’s. It was pretty clear—they were meant to be together.
Steve should be returning tonight. He would straighten everything out. Peter heard Lucy’s accusing thoughts, and he couldn’t help answering out loud on James’ behalf.
Peter wanted the words to be clear and loud. “You are so brave when James isn’t around! Well, James made it clear to me. We have spoken at length about this. Steve gave Alex the chance. Alex had begged to be allowed to go away from the den. He swore he could retrieve Skyla during his break. Alex had been following her around for months and couldn’t bring himself to obey Steve. He was enjoying his new freedom. When Steve realized Alex had not even made contact with Skyla in six months, he knew something had to be done. Steve had to tend to the plantation, so he released James to persuade Skyla in his own way. James had to leave us unprotected, at the den, to get her himself. If Alex had not spotted James, he would never have stepped up. All of a sudden, Alex found his courage. Alex knew that if he did not deliver Skyla to the den, he could never return to us. It is a good thing Alex did bring her home, because Skyla has a strong reaction to James. She has a strong will. It didn’t help that she saw a psychic shortly before James’ visit. She doesn’t remember that she belongs here, and she was on the lookout for someone causing her harm. There was almost a scene. However, it got things in motion. So, really, James is the one who eventually got her here, indirectly.” It was rare for Peter to speak up like this, but Mara’s incessant whining and Lucy’s judgments were getting on his nerves. “I was stuck in the bar all night. Mara? I assume you brought me something?”
Mara beamed. She was one of them now. Being 18 was quite wonderful, she thought. “Yes. I know you will like her,” Mara said. “She is sitting on your bed. All ready to go. Try not to wake up James.”
Peter popped up from the table and pushed through the kitchen doors into the den. On the far bed sat a beautiful girl dressed in a white tank top and white skirt. Her light brown hair had a bit of a wave, and it was stuck to the side of her face with tears. She was confused. Some laughed and others cried when they were given the drug. It always broke Peter’s heart when they cried. He walked past James, who was sleeping on his cot. Peter moved in slowly so as not to scare her any further.
“Oh, baby, don’t cry,” he whispered as he wiped the tears away with his sleeve. He would be very gentle with her. She was sweet. “How old are you, baby?”
The girl just looked around the room. She didn’t see him.
“Are you 18?” He waited, but there was no response. He tried again, “Nineteen?”
She turned her head toward Peter’s voice and nodded. Her eyes were fully dilated. She looked around the room and tried to focus on Peter, but it was no use. He took her head gently in his hands and looked into her big brown eyes. She steadied herself and gave a small smile.
“That’s right, baby.” Peter always waited for the recognition. He always waited until they saw him. It wouldn’t be right otherwise. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. He turned her head gently to the right. He kissed her on the neck, too. He felt her soft skin and the pulsing of the blood through her veins. Mmmm, she was very sweet indeed. He tasted the salty tears with his sharp tongue. He kissed her neck again, and she let out a blood-curdling scream. Peter felt the flesh bulge around his fangs and sucked harder and faster. Her screaming made his tongue tingle. He could feel the blood fight its way through the wound faster as her heartbeat sped up.
Oh, this one is wonderful!
Peter prayed for the strength to stop. He slowed his tongue and the lapping. He slowly pulled out his fangs one at a time and held his thumb over the wound. Peter looked her in the eye. She looked scared. He couldn’t bear it.