Charleston Past Midnight (14 page)

With one look at her I struggle to suppress a moan. The sheer linen of her walnut canopy bed is swept aside, revealing the destruction the yellow fever had wrought upon her. Her deathly white skin is covered in a slick sheen of perspiration. I inch closer, knowing there is not much time because her devoted husband is just down the hall tending to their nine-month-old baby girl, Cosette. I’ve kept close tabs on my family, treasuring any information I could. I only observed them, though, never wanting to interfere with their lives. My existence now would be inconceivable to them. No good could ever come of it. My once shattered heart has hardened, accepting the fact over time.

Hovering over her, I reach down and gently clasp her hand, nearly dropping it when I feel the searing heat that is ravaging her slim frame.

“Sabine,” I whisper to her. No response.

Her heart is stressed and its beating is growing fainter by the minute. I try again, a bit louder, not able to conceal the edge of desperation in my voice, “Sabine, it’s me, Severin. Sabine, please, please dear God, just open your eyes.”

Her pale lips move slightly, as if trying to form a word. I squeeze her hand, mentally imploring her to wake. Using my other hand, I smooth her long raven hair away from her damp face. She starts to stir, her head slowly tossing back and forth.

“Sabine, wake up.”

I’m shocked when eyes so like mine crack open and stare in a daze up at me. I know there is no time to waste.

“Sabine, I love you. Don’t be frightened.”

Her brows draw together. She does not understand the presence of her brother’s ghost.

My knees give out and I drop down beside her, my hand running across her forehead. “Oh Sabine, forgive me for leaving you so long ago. I wish I could go back, wish we had more time ….” I can’t continue. I feel the sting of hot tears in my eyes from seeing my sister in this state, so close to death. My head hangs forward as they roll down my face. I would do anything, give anything to trade places with her.

For a fleeting moment I’m half tempted to turn her when I hear the faintest, strained whisper, “Baby ….”

My head flies up and I watch her intently. She looks at me with glazed eyes and struggles again to whisper, “Love … baby ….”

My heart bleeds. She wants me to know that she loves her baby? Oh, dear God!

Before I can respond, her breathing stops and her stare becomes vacant—the unmistakable stare of death. I can’t stop it. The shocked cry of desperation escapes my throat, “Noooo! Sabine, no!”

I slide my arms beneath her and lift her up to my chest, wanting to hold her forever. I hear the pounding of running feet in the hallway.
Her husband heard. He can’t find me here
!

He’s at the door when I drop a swift kiss on her forehead and release her. Quickly I trace back down to the lawn.

I’m about to come undone, both mentally and physically. I thought that I had prepared myself.
I hadn’t a clue.

“Oh Severin ….” Katerina’s voice is filled with deep sorrow, yet wisely she doesn’t attempt to console or touch me. Only time can heal gashes to the soul this profound.

Barely able to form the words, I ask in a strangled voice, “You
knew,
didn’t you? You saw it before I even went to her. That’s why you tried to stop me. Isn’t it?”

Her eyes are pained when she responds, “Yes, Severin, this is true.”

Both our heads whip up toward the second story of the grand home. A man is sobbing with such anguish that it’s nearly unbearable. Just then, the innocent cries of her baby begin to blend with his ….

I feel as if I’m losing my mind. I thought the worst was behind me, yet nothing prepared me for the loss of my beloved sister. How terrible that my sweet niece should lose her mother before she ever knew her!

With a choked sob, I grate out, “We have to go now. I can’t be here any longer.”

Her hand touches my back as she says quietly, “Of course, Severin.”

Chapter Sixteen

Present Day, Charleston, SC

Control the Bleed

“I
don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much in my entire life!” She narrows her lovely eyes in mock annoyance as she adds, “Are you trying to fatten me up, sexy Severin?”

Before I can answer her, the waitress in her mid-twenties returns to our table for what seems like the thirtieth time. It’s beginning to annoy me, but I acknowledge her and wait as she purrs out, “Doin’ all right?”

Sternly I respond, “Just fine.”

She sifts her fingers through her dark hair. “ ’Kay, just checkin’. ”

“I’ll tell you what,” my eyes drop to her black plastic nametag, “Audrey. If there is something, anything at all that we need from you from now on I will call your name.”

The bold statement penetrates and she wanders away from our cozy table muttering, “Yeah, all right.”

She watches me from under long lashes, her eyes watering as she tries unsuccessfully to hold in her laughter.

“What?”

“Seriously, you’re asking me
what?
”

“I am. What’s so funny, Calla?”

“
You.
You are, with all of your Severin-ness.”

“Did you just say ‘my Severin-ness?’ ”

Her face is flushed as she struggles to contain her amusement, “I sure did. That woman was about to start running over lists of her favorite positions in case you failed to notice, big guy. And be prepped because she is definitely intent on tagging your digits before we leave tonight.”

“Not funny, Calla.”

“
So
damn funny. Hey, you should be flattered that you’re such a magnet for women. Has it always been like this?”

I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest.
Enough with the teasing, little beauty ….

In a low, warning voice I say, “Time for a change of topic.”

Her eyes widen and she blinks, knowing I’m serious. I don’t mind being teased, but there is a line.

She takes a sip of her drink and changes topic with, “All right then. Did you attend college before, well, you know ….”

“Yes, I did. I studied at The College of William and Mary. I was hoping to go on to study architecture when it happened.”

I watch her blink twice, obviously surprised that I’m sharing this information with her in public.

“Please continue. I-I remember that you told me this all happened to you because you intervened on your sister’s behalf, so I have to ask … did you save it?”

“Save what?”

“Your sister’s honor.”

“Of course. She went on to marry the following year. A fine man, a banker. They had one child, my niece, a little girl named Cossette.”

“Was it difficult for you to not be able to see them? They could never understand, right?”

“You are right. I made the mistake of seeing Sabine as she lay dying of yellow fever. She was only twenty-six years old. Thinking back, I wonder if she knew I was in the room at all—she was so wracked with fever and hallucinations at the time. I hold onto the hope that she knew I was there, or at the very least how much love I have for her.”

“Severin, I had no idea. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me for bringing up such a painful topic.”

I stoke my thumb over the back of her smooth hand and look deeply into her eyes. “You should know. I want there to be no secrets between us, Calla.”

She looks away, out of the window into the darkness, clearly uncomfortable.

“Calla, look at me.”

She turns back, and I wait until her eyes catch mine to ask, “Tell me about your family. I’ve shared. Now it is your turn.”

She pushes a long, slow breath out before saying hesitantly, “I suppose, but bear with me and let me ease into this slowly, Severin, all right?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I-I just can’t discuss my brother, not yet anyhow. I’ll tell you that my daddy was a long haul truck driver who was gone three out of four weeks of the month. When I was five he decided to make his absence permanent.” I hold both her hands in the center of our table and give her the time she needs to continue. “And my momma, well, she had problems. She
saw
things like I do—flashes of things. It scared her. She told a few people in the beginning, hoping to find an answer. Maybe she just wanted to reassure herself that she wasn’t crazy or to simply get help. But we lived in a tiny town, and people talk. My momma wasn’t the strongest person. She became a shut-in at that point. I don’t ever remember seeing her sober. Looking back now, I suppose that’s how she coped. She died of liver failure when I was nine. My brother and I went to live with our aunt on the other side of town. We should’ve gone to Aunt Iris’ when Daddy left, but my brother, even at that young age, took on so much responsibility. He was determined to make it seem like we were holding things together. He feared that they’d split us up, you know, send us to an orphanage or whatever. But he was too young, Severin. God, we were both so very young when the wheels came right off that damn bus.”

Her voice quivers on the last word and I know that she is incapable of continuing.

The fact that she shared such painful parts of her history is humbling, “You have me now, Calla. You’ll never be that vulnerable again, understood?”

Her stunning doe’s eyes lift to mine. Unshed tears have welled up and are about to spill forth as she whispers, “Yes.”

“We need a change of scenery. Let’s move on, Calla.”

She nods quickly and I turn to flag down the waitress for the check.

* * *

As soon as we are on the slate, piecework sidewalk, I grin and pull her close. Wrapping both my arms around her, I drop a light kiss atop her pale hair. “It would be criminal to leave Ciatti’s anything but stuffed, don’t you agree,
ma belle fleur
?”

She rises up on tiptoes, plants a swift kiss on my right cheek and whispers, “Agreed. It’s a beautiful evening. Let’s walk down Church Street, all right? I love seeing the Dock Street Theatre all lit up at night. C’mon.”

She reaches behind her and tugs at my fingers that are clasped at her waist.

I scan the lantern-lit historic street and determine that a threat is unlikely. It’s still fairly early, only ten fifteen, and there are a decent number of people milling about. It has been two weeks since the incident at Mixture, and although I have had all my guards on the alert, keeping as close an eye as possible on her, and
always
at night, I’m beginning to wonder whether or not Valdon has found something else to capture his interest. Still … I remain vigilant. My intuition is keen and I’m not taking any chances.

I release my hands and drop my arm around her bare shoulder as we stroll up the moonlit sidewalk. Old brick-walled cemeteries line the street on either side, adjoining the oldest remaining churches in the city.

“This is definitely my favorite historic street in town.”

My eyes meet hers as we walk in the shadows. “Yes? And why is that Calla?”

“I think because of the spires. Take a look.”

My gaze follows where she is pointing, high in the air. We come closer and stop just before the front steps of the French Huguenot Church. The jutting black spires are a striking contrast to the snow white structure. The soaring pinnacles are jagged in design and rise far up to blend with the darkness.

“Mmm, lovely, Calla. I didn’t know that you held an appreciation for architecture. I learn something new and fascinating about you on a daily basis.”

“This is true. And how about you, what is your favorite structure on this street? Actually … wait, why limit it, what is your favorite structure in the
world?”

My answer is on the tip of my tongue when my mobile goes off. I reluctantly slide my arm from her shoulders, murmuring for her to hold that thought. I take my phone from the front pocket of my jeans and stare down at the illuminated blue screen. Ambrose’s name is on the caller ID.

“Excuse me for a moment.”

“Oh, sure.”

She turns to peer through the black wrought-iron gate into the dark cemetery as I tap the screen to answer his call.

“What is it, Ambrose?” He rarely calls.

His voice is low, edgy, “Where are you? Is everything cool?”

My eyes flick to her back as she continues looking at the ancient, weather-beaten headstones. “We’re fine, just walking after dinner, why?”

I had asked Case and Ambrose to keep an eye on Valdon, to watch from afar so I could take Calla out on a proper date without any complications. The fact that he’s on the other end of the line is not a good sign. My neck hairs stand on end ….

“We just lost track of him and his crew. You need to get off the streets, like fucking
now.”

Not bothering with a reply, I reach out for her and can’t fucking believe that my fingers only manage to graze her ankle. My head shoots up as my phone slips from my fingers and crashes down to the pavement.
He’s got her!

I know that one’s skills are sharpened with each year but I’ve never seen anyone move that fast who wasn’t tracing. Not a single sound comes from her because he has her by the neck. Instantly it becomes a game of chess played on a case of Ritalin and speed; I wrack my brain to make the vital decision to either follow or wait right here.
He wants her turned, which means he’s going to attempt to take her life first. I wouldn’t put it past him to drop her, but how can I be certain?

My mind races as I try to focus. Ambrose is shouting through the speaker of the phone that lies at my feet. I can’t comprehend what he’s saying because I’m trying to break through my cage of abject fear.

High above me, I hear one small scream followed by a whimper. The slight sound tears into my soul. He has her locked in his hold as he balances effortlessly atop one of the black pinnacles.

Must get to her!

I quickly rationalize that he hasn’t traced with her because he thinks as a mere human that the girl wouldn’t survive it. Most do not. It’s a miracle that she did once before but he’s not taking any chances. He leapt up there, offering a chilling display of his preternatural capabilities.