Empath (Book 1 of the Empath Trilogy) (31 page)

Lake Superior has its own personality and provides a lot of the character for the town.  The guests were all seated at eight person round tables with white tablecloths.  The head table was round as well, something I thought was a lot more workable than a long table where everyone stared at the wedding party all night, demanding that they perform.  It struck me that I was taking notes, making decisions about my own wedding should the occasion ever present itself.  Glancing up I wondered if he had ever been married before.  That was a first I wished I could be for him, knowing that my chances at being a first
anything
for him were slim.

Our table’s occupants were milling about, everyone standing and visiting with champagne in hand before being seated for dinner.  James and I were sharing a table with Angie and Brad, her parents, another couple who were friends with the groom Travis, and my parents, Jeanette and Doug.  When I saw the name cards, I wasn’t nervous like I had assumed I would be.  It must be the high I was still riding from enjoying my family so much at the wedding.  I was optimistic this was going to go well too. 

“Mom, Dad.”  I hugged them both simultaneously, letting go of James’ hand only long enough to embrace them and step back, feeling his hand automatically find mine.  I hadn’t been aware I’d done it until I saw my Dad’s eyes follow it.  Fortunately, he flashed me a smile and I felt the tension in my shoulders ease.  With the duties my mother had at the ceremony, we hadn’t spoken beyond my waving as we were leaving and Dad mouthing, “See you there.”  Mom had looked disappointed, but I saw she was more interested in my date than me.  I’m sure she’d eaten up everything Angie had fed her. 

Angie did hair for a living and was used to making small talk about other people’s business.  It wasn’t something anyone held against her, one merely had to be careful what was said to our dear cousin, lest the whole world learn about it within twenty-four hours.

“Mom and Dad, I’d like you to meet James.”  I patted his forearm with my free hand, the other still locked firmly in his.  Somewhere on the way here my happiness had crossed to euphoria and I was getting that dizzy feeling again, making me downright giddy; not a normal thing for me.  James was eyeing me questioningly.  My grin broadened stupidly as I introduced my parents to the most important person in my life.  “James Thomas, meet my parents, Jeanette and Doug Martin.” 

James flashed them a radiant smile.  “Mr. and Mrs. Martin, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.  Would anyone like another champagne?  Claire would you like one since it is a special occasion?”  He looked at my dad adding.  “If that is alright with you, sir?  I am driving her and not to worry, I don’t drink.”  I failed to stifle my giggle and he shot me a weird look. 

Dad shook his head.  “No, I’m taking it slow tonight but if Claire would like one, that’s fine with me.”  He looked at my mother who was swiveling her head back and forth between James and I; she had a curious expression on her face.  “Jeanette?”  She looked over expectantly, clearly she hadn’t heard the question.  “James is getting drinks, would you like one?”  She nodded and tossed back the small swallow she had in her first glass.  “That would be fabulous.  Thank you, James.”

“James, let me help you.  I want to see what else they have other than champagne.”  Swallowing, I rubbed my throat.  “I’m thirsty but I’m not sure for what.  Excuse us.”  Grabbing for his hand, I took too quick a step into him bobbling.  Righting me adeptly, he turned to guide us to the drink table. 

“Claire, what is going on with you?  I’ve never seen you like this before,” he whispered forcefully.  Glancing up, I again saw the nerves he must be feeling reflected on his ashen face; his eyes were going dark.  My insides lurched.

As soon as we were out of sight of my parents, we stepped off to stand by a pillar out of the way.  My hand went to my throat again and I shook my head, “I don’t know.  I thought I was keeping everyone out but I have this weird lightheaded thing going on.  It doesn’t feel like me.  Wait a minute.”  Closing my eyes and stopping with him, I stilled and felt around in my head like he’d taught me to check my shielding.  It was there and strong.  I tried to let go of James’ hand but he held on.  Opening my eyes, I looked up at him.  “Let go, I need to check something.”  And I closed my eyes again.  Reluctantly, he released his grip and my skin warmed where his cool hand fell away.  As soon as his hand was gone, my head started to swim and I wavered.  Wiggling my fingers, eyes still closed, I felt his hand close around mine again and my head cleared.  I opened my eyes and looked up at him unable to cover the alarm growing inside me.  “James, I don’t know what is going on but unless I’m touching you, it feels like I did at your house when I was going to faint.  My head’s all muddy.  No, not muddy.  Garbled.  At your house, I couldn’t concentrate and now here it’s like I’m hypersensitive, everything is happening so fast I can’t catch it all.” 

He gave up any pretenses of appearing calm, his anxiety showing clear as he grabbed for my other hand and held it tightly.  “Claire, I’m not sure what is happening, but something is definitely changing in you.  Your heartbeat even sounds different, slow like when you’re sleeping.  It should be faster, especially with your anxiety.  You are right though it is better when we touch.  For tonight then, until we figure this out, we should keep in contact.”  The back of my hand went cold in waves with the stroking of his thumb.  His gesture of comfort would have been more effective had I not seen the tension behind his eyes as he raised up my left hand to brush the back of my knuckles with his lips.  Closing my eyes, I shivered. 

“We are going to have to forego the whole budding romance act in favor of desperately in love for my whole family.  We certainly can’t try to explain some supernatural medical malady to this crowd,” I sighed. 

James’ more heartfelt deep chuckle was a relief.  We exchanged a glance.  “I believe I can manage that one.” 

We headed over to the drink table covered in champagne flutes filled with the golden bubbling liquid.  We grabbed one for my mom and, feeling suddenly very dry, I changed my mind and grabbed a flute for myself.  Before James could object, I had tossed down half a glass with a choke.  He was staring at me with his eyes wide, “Claire, what are you doing?  If you are having trouble controlling yourself, you shouldn’t have alcohol.  I didn’t even know you drank.”

“I don’t,” was my honest response.  “But my throat is really dry.  It must be nerves.  I would swear it burns.  I hope I’m not getting sick.”  It was an unfamiliar feeling, different than a sore throat. 

James’ entire body suddenly hummed with tension and in one swift motion he set down my mother’s glass, wrapped his arm behind my back swinging us around and virtually carried me out the main doors into the hall and ducked into an empty alcove.  His arms went up against the wall on either side of my head and his eyes bored into mine from inches away.  Without prompting, my body began to respond and I felt myself being pulled away from the wall, my hand rubbed down the front of his shirt.

“Claire,” his voice was urgent as he broke into my scattered thoughts.  “Claire.”  I felt his hands come down onto my shoulders and the cool contact helped to focus my thoughts.  My eyes found his and saw the worry there within the dark eyes staring at me.  “What did you say about your throat?”  He demanded.

“It could just be a sore throat.  Maybe that’s why I’ve been feeling off lately.” 

“No,” he pressed, “the throat.  Sore how?  Describe it”

“Like I said, it’s sore but not.  I can’t explain it.”  The champagne was making me a little woozy.  I felt my knees buckle a little and I giggled.

James was growing antsy as he looked back behind us and leaned in to put his face to my neck.  I sucked in a quick breath and rolled my head back.  He stopped just shy of my neck and I heard him sniffing. 

“What are you doing?”  It was getting hard to focus; the alcohol was definitely kicking in.

“Impossible,” I heard him mumble and put one arm around my shoulders.  Reaching out, he grabbed the handle on the door next to us and with a crack.  In the next second, he swept me into a small closet. 

Taking in the contents of the little room, I laughed at the cliché.  “A broom closet, really?  We have a great big room with a bed a few blocks away.”  I wrapped my arms around his neck, I was game if he was.  Maybe we could even get back before dinner was over and dance a few together.

James’ hands came up to take mine before they could wrap around his neck.  “Claire, this isn’t about sex,” he kept his voice to a harsh whisper.  As his hands held mine, I felt the fuzziness in my head clearing, leaving only the faint buzz from the champagne and the driving need to take off his clothes.

“Why
isn’t
this about sex?  It should be.”  I pushed myself at him, trying to reach his lips.

He caught me again and held my chin with a hand.  “Claire this is serious.  I need you to be still for a moment while I call Henry.  Okay?” 

Nodding, I leaned forward and lay my head against his chest.  Touching such a large section of him helped and I remained still, inhaling his heady scent as he called Henry. 

The hum of his voice was urgent.  “I don’t understand; she smells faintly vampire, her throat burns, her heart rate is dropping.  She describes thirst and is completely disoriented when I’m not reinforcing her defenses physically.”  He paused, listening.  “No, I haven’t since before we left but that shouldn’t be a problem.  I’ve gone longer stretches between feedings.”  Another question, this one he answered sounding embarrassed.  “No more than normal.”  He listened some more.  I heard more mumbling but was starting to feel sleepy.  I think I was dozing when the phone clicked shut, startling me awake.

James held me so that he could examine my face as I blinked lethargically at him.  It had only been my third effort at drinking and I only had half a glass.  I was ashamed to say I was feeling it.  James was nearly frantic, that much I could see in his eyes though the “why” eluded my slow wits.  He picked me up to set me on some boxes stacked behind me.

“Claire, I am going to do something to you that will help you to focus for a minute.  I need to speak to you about something very serious.”  I nodded slowly, trying to understand what could be so critical.  Maybe something had happened back home to one of the cats.  I felt my stomach turn.  Before I could worry more about that, I felt his hands on mine and he looked into my eyes.  It was exactly how he looked at Stephen that day on the couch. 

All of a sudden, my world shifted.  It felt like a ride that jerks sideways, only it was inside my head while my body remained stationary.  Then, my mind was completely clear.  It was actually easier to focus on more than a few things at once.  My eyes were even better than normal seeing farther in the dim space illuminated only by the one tiny fixture that had turned on when James had flicked the switch.  The sounds of the reception had grown exponentially, it was as if they were suddenly all standing right outside this door.  I could hear the glasses clinking and a familiar laugh.

“James, what did you do?”  I was looking around grateful for the new clarity.  Then I looked at him.  Each wave in his hair was clearly defined.  I could see the lines in his irises, his eyes were a dark midnight blue.  They were magnificent. 

“Love, please focus on me.  We don’t have long before this wears off and I don’t want to do it again.”  I brought my mind to heel and stared at him, willing myself to pay attention.  He saw that I was back in control and started again.  “I am not sure what is happening or why, but you are thirsty.”  Shaking off the objection I was beginning to form, he continued.  “No, I mean
thirsty. 
Like one of us.” 

My throat constricted and I squeaked.  “How?”

He shook his head frustrated, “I don’t know and neither does Henry.  We are away from home and all of my sources, which leaves us with few options.  That is why I brought your mind back for a moment.  We need to figure out what to do.”  Strong shoulders rounded in defeat.  “I know I said I would never do it, but I cannot proceed without your consent.  Think of it as sharing my perception for a few minutes.”

“Is this how things look to you?”  He nodded and I seriously contemplated changing in that moment.  Someone was telling a story that sounded interesting. 

“Claire, I know it is hard to focus right now.  That is a side effect of our perception, lots of stimulation makes it hard to concentrate.  It takes years to overcome that and we don’t have that kind of time.”

“Sorry.  What do I need to decide again?”  Now that I was trying to focus, I found I had lost the thread of our conversation.