Sundown & Serena (7 page)

“He’s evil. You stay with him long enough and
you’ll become the monster he is. And you seem to be a good
man.”

“I’m not a good man,” Lash said, narrowing
his flat eyes. “Don’t think that of me, because I dressed your
wounds. You thought that of Devlin when you saw his pretty face,
and that’s why you’re in this mess, because you were stupid, and
trusting. I’m neither good, nor even human.”

Not human?
I felt a
shiver, but pressed on. “You’re no monster, not like he is.”

“I am a monster,” Lash hissed angrily. “You
have no idea of the things I’ve done. I’ve killed more people in my
life than he has killed in his, and he’s four hundred years old.
Hundreds of people, thousands. I don’t even remember their faces,
none of them. They don’t haunt my dreams. I don’t think about them
at all, or care that I killed them. And maybe that’s the surest
sign I am evil.”

He let out a breath. “It’s way too late for
me. I’m sorry for you, but he’s my friend, my only one left. He was
there when I needed him. He’s done more for me than anyone ever
has, ever. I’m not going to abandon him now, no matter what he’s
done, not when he needs me most of all.”

“I’ll go,” I ventured. “Thanks for warning
me. But why do you care what happens to me?”

“I don’t,” Lash said casually, standing up,
and adjusting his whip. “But I want him to forget her, and get back
to what he’s good at, which is Ruling. He is nothing now, he who
was Ruler for over two hundred years. It is my reputation alone
that is keeping Hayden from being burned to the ground, but that
won’t last much longer. We need to be in power again, because we
aren’t getting any respect, and some of his best fighting men have
left. Soon, other younger vampires or hunters will find out that
Devlin’s much weaker now than he was, and come for him. He’s got a
lot of enemies. I’m good, but not good enough to fight off crowds
looking to kill him by myself. And if he dies, I’ll—”

Lash abruptly stopped talking, then went to
the door and opened it. “I’m a killer, Sun. I’m going to Hell when
I die,” he hissed sadly. “Maybe saving your life will take away one
less beating I’m scheduled for.”

Then he was gone.

* * * *

The next few days passed in a haze. I got
better almost immediately, the wounds healing without leaving scars
by nightfall, as Lash said they would. But the memories remained. I
had dreams every night of what had happened to me, and the worst
was that I remembered how good it had felt, being with him, and
part of me wanted it again, wanted that pure euphoric rush. I knew
it must be the drug he’d given me, and worried it was addictive.
Had Devlin been counting on that, planning on my
wanting him so much I’d let him do anything to me he
wanted?

Frightened of that possibility, I packed my
bags that night, paid up all my outstanding bills, and told my boss
I was quitting Hotcakes. I got a ride from a stranger to the bus
terminal, and went to the counter. Sure enough, there was a ticket
waiting for me in my name, paid for, that would take me anywhere in
the United States. I cashed it in, grateful but uneasy at my debt
to Lash. Without his help, I wouldn’t have had enough money to get
away, as I’d had to forfeit not only my apartment’s deposit but
also fork over an additional few months rent for canceling the
lease almost a full year early. While I could have just left in the
night without paying anything, that was too shitty. My landlord had
watched out for me for years, made sure I was never robbed or
bothered, and I couldn’t do that to him. I’d had to sign my beater
car over to him to cover that bill, though. In return, he’d said
he’d make sure all the other bills that came addressed to me were
paid, until the value of the car was used up. That was fair enough
for me.

After years of staying in one place, I was
suddenly adrift with almost no money, the only certainty that I
needed to leave town. All my carefree loner idealism was reduced to
the fact that I had no family and no real friends to turn to, no
one I could call to come and get me, no one I could hide with, or
even spend a night on their couch.

I have no one. My life isn’t carefree,
it’s empty.

That cold truth messed me up, to put it
mildly. In my highly emotional state, I decided to go back to
Montana. I knew it was a mistake, almost before the destination
left my mouth at the ticket center. But I wanted to be near my
mother, even if only to have the comfort of being near her final
resting place. Besides, how much worse could my father be, now that
I’d met the devil himself?

Chapter
Seven

The bus ride was long, hot, and dusty, like
I’d dreaded. About halfway there, I reconsidered, but I had no
money for changing my mind. So I kept going. Finally, I found
myself in Janesville.

I got off the bus, and went first to the
cemetery. My mother’s grave was overgrown with weeds. Saddened, I
spent a few hours pulling them out, scratching my hands on briars,
and cursing my father, who couldn’t be bothered to come here once
in a while to honor her after all he’d done to her. But he’d never
respected her in life. Why should I expect him to do it when she
was dead?

When I was done, I stole a small bouquet off
a new grave five rows over that had a ton of other flowers.
Fuck them. No one would miss this one.
God
damn it, I had no money for flowers, but I wasn’t leaving there
until I’d given some to my mother. It was late summer here, so all
the scraggly wild ones were long since withered in the blistering
heat.

I kneeled down before her stone. My father
had been cheap in that, too. It said only Geraldine V. Law, and the
dates of her birth, and death. No “Beloved Wife.”

No “Beloved Mother.”

I’d taken crayons once, and written “Beloved
Mother” on the stone. But when I’d come back the next day, it had
been scrubbed clean. Later my father had spanked me. Groundskeepers
couldn’t fucking weed a grave, but God forbid a stone had
“graffiti” on it.

I took a Sharpie from my pocket, and wrote
“Beloved Mother” on the headstone. “It’s the best I can do,” I
whispered. “I’m sorry it’s not more, Mom.”

I sat there for a while, and gathered my
courage. Then, I went off to see my father.

The trailer looked even smaller than it had
the last time. To my surprise, it was also abandoned. There were
some cracked picture frames, some beer bottles, and enough condom
wrappers to make me realize high school kids were using this as a
pad to fuck. But no Dad.

I headed to the local bar. His local
bartender would know where he was, even if no one else did.

I asked around. By seven, the night bartender
came on, and pointed me in the right direction. I hitched a ride
with a decent guy, who took me to where my father was living
now.

Jesus, that man is
lucky.
I walked up a long stone paved driveway to a house so
new I could almost smell the cedar planking on the wraparound deck.
There, lying next to an Olympic sized swimming pool, sipping a Bud
Light, was my father.

He looked at me, and did a double take.
“Sunny?”

“It’s me, Dad,” I said, forcing a smile. “You
win the lottery?”

“Yeah! Well, kind of,” he said, giving me his
most affable and heart-melting smile. “I met Sheryl, and she’s
rich!”

She must be in a coma, or a hundred.
Or both.

My father got to his feet. He’d kind of gone
to pot in the years I hadn’t visited. Sure, his face was still
good, and his body wasn’t bad, for a man in his late fifties. But
he was overweight, and he didn’t wear it well. “Come and meet her,
Baby Girl,” he said, putting his arm around me. “I want you to meet
her.”

He brought me inside, and to say the place
was opulent was doing it a disservice. It was so over the top that
it almost looked fake. There were chandeliers, polished wood, and
paintings on the light-hued walls that had to be originals. And
mirrors; there were fancy mirrors everywhere, on every wall, and of
every imaginable size.

“Do you like it?” a sensuous voice asked
politely.

I turned to see a small woman in her late
forties, heavily made up. She was fully dressed, and the clothing
was expensive. To my surprise, she wasn’t ugly; she was very
pretty, even with all that thick makeup.

“This is my daughter,” my father explained.
“Sunny, this is Sheryl.”

“A pleasure,” the woman said, offering an
insincere smile.

I detected right off she was either pissed I
was here, or ill at ease. “It’s good to meet you.”

“Are you staying?” she asked politely.

“Would you mind?” my father asked her, before
I could say anything. “Usually when she visits, she stayed at my
place. It won’t be long.”

The latter was true. But the first part was a
lie; I’d never stayed with him, ever.
Why is he
lying?

“A few days aren’t a problem,” Sheryl said,
after a pause. “But I’ll need you exclusively for the weekend,
darling.”

“Then I’m there, babe!” my father said
enthusiastically.

“I’m going to bed,” she said, her eyes
flicking to me and then away. “You probably want some time with Sun
tonight.”

“Nah,” my father said, predictably. “We’ll
catch up tomorrow, or the next day. I’ve been waiting all day for
you to leave your office, hon.” He put his arm around her waist. “I
need some loving.”

Sheryl smiled, and after they showed me to a
guest room, they quickly left.

I lay in bed for a while, wondering about
this odd turn of events, which were just as strange as the ones
that had prompted my return. How had my father gotten this woman? I
guess I’d find out in the morning.

* * * *

The next morning, there was no trace of them.
I found a message on the counter that they’d gone off to play some
tennis at the country club, and would be home after having drinks
there, and some lunch.

I spent the afternoon by the pool, and then
ate some food and drank a bottle of wine. It was peaceful here. So
what if it wasn’t my home?

I went to bed that night without seeing my
father, or Sheryl.

The next day was the same. And the next. It
was always something, a luncheon they were invited to, or a play
they already had tickets for. Finally, on Friday, I managed to get
my father alone, while Sheryl was out running errands.

“Dad, how did you meet her?” I asked.

He grinned. “I was trucking near South of the
Border. And there she was, lost, looking for a small town in North
Carolina.”

“And so she took you home with her?”

“No! She took me to dinner, and we had a few
drinks—”

So, they’d had sex.

“—
and the next morning, she’d said
she’d had a good time with me. Then she said she’d love it, if I’d
come and live with her. She said she had enough money to take care
of us in style. But she’d been divorced, and it was messy, and so
she’d prefer it to be casual with us. And I told her that scene
seemed like Heaven on Earth to me.” He paused. “But I told her this
town was home to me, always had been. So she said she’d live here,
and a few days later, she bought this house.”

Weird
. I nodded.
“That sounds amazing.”

“So here I am!” he said triumphantly. “And
six months later, I’m still loving it!”

“So you haven’t cheated on her?” I said
pointedly.

My father lost his happy look, and his pissy
face came on. “No, I haven’t. She gives me whatever I want,
whenever I want. So what if she’s older than the women I usually
took to bed? I’m not young myself anymore.”

Good for him.
“I’m
just surprised.”

“So am I,” my father said, looking happy
again. “I never thought my train would come in like this. And it
sure beats driving trucks. Your old man gets stiff now from sitting
behind the wheel more than an hour, Baby Girl, and it’s not the
good kind of—”

Spare me your sexual
talk.
“What’s the catch?”

I expected my father to give me a sarcastic
line, or say something funny, which were his two usual responses.
But he just looked a little crafty.

“The catch is that she’s got cancer,” he said
in a whisper, as if we would be overheard. “She’s got only a few
months to live. That’s where she really is now: at a doctor visit.
She says she feels weaker every day. When she goes, I’ll get it
all!”

I wanted to vomit on him. “Do you care about
her?”

“I like her,” he said with a shrug. “I’ll
miss her in bed. She really gets into it. But I’ll find someone
else quick enough, rich as I’m going to be. And Baby Girl, the next
one’s going to be in her early twenties.”

I’d heard enough. “Dad, I have to get going
tomorrow.”

“Sure,” he said, taking a swig of beer. “Come
back in a year or so, Sunny. We’ll have a blast, throw a huge
party! Your old man’s hit it big!”

I gave him a hug, packed my bags, and hitched
a ride out of town the next morning. I felt bad for Sheryl, sure.
But she was old enough to know better, and I wasn’t her daughter.
And I trusted my father just far enough to be sure he wouldn’t
hurry her passing.

* * * *

I spent the next few months in Nevada,
working at a strip club outside the Las Vegas strip. I was able to
save enough money to afford a small apartment, and I spent a lot of
time there thinking about what I wanted, when I wasn’t working as
many shifts as I could.

After some self-imposed solitary, I finally
decided on a few things for myself.

I wanted to go back East. I missed the green,
and the hills. It seemed like a desert here in comparison.

I wanted to see if Terian was okay. I missed
him, and maybe...maybe somehow we could make it work. Yes, we had a
lot that we’d have to overcome, but I wanted to try, damn it. I
still loved him, and if he still loved me, we had a chance.