Mourning Sun (13 page)

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Authors: Shari Richardson

BOOK: Mourning Sun
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"Damn. Maybe you'll be done early." Cecelia turned around, narrowly avoiding being caught by Mr. Petrowski.

I could hope the same as Cecelia, but I was almost certain my entire weekend would be packed full of new age silliness. My mother had gotten it into her head that if I understood my new "gift" better, I might snap out of the funk I'd been in all winter. I think only Tawnya really understood what was behind my melancholy, but she was certain that staying away from Mathias was in my best interest. Far from a sympathetic ear, Tawnya was positively gleeful that I had chosen humanity over love.

"Cece, I'll met you at the car," I said as I dashed out of the classroom in pursuit of Mathias.

 

I knew he heard me running after him, but Mathias refused to slow his steps.

 

"Mathias, please wait. I need to talk to you."

 

He froze, a shudder rolling over him. He turned, a decidedly unfriendly look fixed firmly on his beautiful face.

 

"Mairin." My name had never before sounded like a curse on his lips.

"I..." I didn't know what to say now that he'd stopped and was so openly hostile. "I have an engagement this evening, Mairin. Did you truly wish to speak with me or were you seeking only to torment me further?"

"I didn't mean to torment you," I said before I could stop myself. I hadn't thought I'd been tormenting him. I knew I'd tormented myself, but apparently my indecisiveness was affecting Mathias as well. His silence. His anger. His pain. They all made sense to me now.

"Then what did you wish to say?"

 

"It's just that you look, well...you look a little pale. I was worried."

 

The tight smile that crossed his lips looked more like a grimace and left me aching for the beautiful smile he shared with me the day we met.

 

"Thank you for your concern, Mairin. I am, however, entirely well. Paleness is a side effect of my...condition, as you well know."

 

"Oh. Right. Of course it is." I felt like a complete idiot.

 

"Was there anything else you wished to say to me?"

There were so many things I wanted to say to him, but none of them were healthy for either of us. "I love you" wasn't appropriate for someone you were afraid of. "I miss you" wasn't something you said to someone you had loudly and repeatedly banished from your life.

"Um, no. I guess not."

 

"Then I will bid you a good afternoon." He was gone before I could return the sentiment.

I drew a deep, shuddering breath and tried desperately to contain the tears that rose to choke me as I watched him stalk to his car. I saw him jerk once as I hitched in another breath, but he kept walking.

"Oh look, the little dyke is crying for the boy she ditched," Stephanie taunted from behind me. I didn't wait to hear what else she might come up with. I ran to the Nova, cranking the engine and the radio to drown out everything but the thundering pace of my heart.

He hated me. It wasn't just that he was keeping his distance because I had asked him to. He truly hated me. I'd shoved him away in the most horrible way possible. I'd denied the very heart of what he was, called it disgusting and hateful and I'd destroyed the only chance at love I'd ever been given.

Kerry and Cecelia found me hunched over my steering wheel, sobbing. I saw them look at each other before apparently deciding to let me get it out of my system before they asked me the obvious question.

"Mathias?" Cecelia asked softly, alternately rubbing my back and patting my shoulder.

 

I nodded. "He hates me."

 

"Good," Kerry said. "It's better that way, Maire. You know it is."

I shook my head, letting the pain roll through me and wash away with my tears. I slowly gained control of myself, letting the tears stop on their own rather than forcing them back as I had so often in the last six months. When I was done, I felt better than I had in a very long time.

"Well, it's about time, Maire," Cecelia said, hugging me.

 

"What's about time."

 

"You finally cried. I've been waiting for you to cry for six months."

"Oh." I didn't know what to say about that. I'd spent the last six months pretending everything was fine. I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I didn't do much of anything, but pretend to be okay. It was a horrible shock to find out I hadn't fooled anyone but myself.

I dropped Cecelia at her house and drove to The Astral Plane. Kerry was quiet for most of the ride, but spoke up as we looked for parking outside the shop.

 

"I didn't understand," she said softly. "What didn't you understand, sis?"

 

"You love him. Still."

 

"Yeah, I do."

 

"I'm sorry I wasn't more supportive," she said.

 

"It's OK"

 

"No, it really isn't. I should have known that you wouldn't...couldn't love someone evil. I let Tawnya's fear overrule what I know about you."

 

She hugged me, something I realized she hadn't done in a long time. "I'm sorry Maire. Can you forgive me?"

I hugged her back, as hard as I could, happy for the contact with another person who loved me. "Nothing to forgive, sis. You were looking out for me. Thanks for caring enough, for loving me enough, to worry about who I love."

Mom was at the shop counter with an older, gray-haired woman when we opened the door. Xavier stood behind the stranger, a tight smile plastered on his lips.

"Oh good, you're here," she said. "I was hoping you wouldn't forget."

Kerry stopped at the door, staring at Xavier. I glanced back and forth between them. Kerry's aura pulsed in time with Xavier's. It was the first time I'd ever seen that happen and I didn't know what to make of it.

"I'm gonna go talk to Tawnya," Kerry said, squeezing my hand before she headed for the reading room at almost a run. She brushed past Xavier and their auras sparked. I filed that away as something to research later.

"Mairin, this is Elise Meyers, the psychic I told you about."

"Pleased to meet you," I said, silently noting her purple aura. "And this is my grandson, Xavier. He drives me around when I need to leave East Hampton." Elise smiled fondly at Xavier, who flushed.

"Gram, I'm gonna go to the coffee shop. I'll be back in two hours." Xavier kissed his grandmother's cheek before bolting for the door. It was obvious he didn't want to stick around for the psychic lessons and I was glad to see him go. He made me think of Mathias, something I didn't feel up to after my meltdown.

"Elise has agreed to help you work with your new gift," Mom said.

"Your mother tells me that you're able to see auras," Elise said. She sat down on one of the old chintz chairs Mom kept in the shop for clients and waved to another.

"Yeah. At least that's what we think I'm seeing."

 

"What color aura do you see around me?"

 

"Purple, kind of dark, and pulsing slightly."

Elise nodded. I saw my mother slip into the back of the shop, leaving me alone with the psychic. She was always open about getting me help with my "gifts," but once the help arrived, Mom bolted. I wondered, sometimes, if she wasn't afraid of me and my "gifts."

"Do you know what my aura tells you about me?" Elise asked.

 

"No. I know it's the first purple aura I've seen. Most of the auras I see are blue."

 

"That's to be expected. Blue is the color of human auras."

 

I jerked back in my seat. What did that make Xavier? "Does that mean..."

 

"That I'm not human? No. My aura is a combination of the blue aura of a human and the red energy of magic. I'm a witch, Mairin, but still human."

I relaxed slightly, but remained on edge while Elise explained the meaning of the colors I'd seen. I didn't bring up Xavier's orange aura and neither did Elise. It was almost as though she didn't want to have to explain her grandson to me. She was, however, very interested in Braden Lambert's aura.

"Dark, muddy green, you say?" she asked.

 

"Yeah. It's kind of creepy because it's the only one I've seen like that."

 

"I should hope so. Green auras are only found around demigods...the children of humans and angels or demons--fallen angels."

 

I was surprised. "If Braden is the child of an angel, why is he so awful?"

"All of God's creatures have free will, Mairin," Elise said. "It is Braden's choice to be awful, as you say. His aura reflects his choices. If he were a better...person, for lack of a better word...his aura would be clear green. The muddiness tells you that he's chosen his path of 'awfulness.'"

Understanding, as clear as it was horrible, dawned in my heart. "The clarity of someone's aura reflects the clarity of their soul?" I asked, dreading the answer.

 

"That's certainly one way to look at it."

 

"So no matter what a person is, if their soul is pure, their aura will be clear?"

 

"That has been my experience, yes."

 

"Oh."

Mathias' aura had always been a pale, clear gold, unless he was angry. When his temper got the better of him, as it had when Stephanie had brought up my father's death in the cafeteria so many months ago, his aura darkened and become cloudy. But when he was in control of himself, Mathias' aura was a perfect reflection of the deeply pure soul he possessed.

"All of God's creatures have free will," I repeated Elise's words. "They can choose to be good or evil, in spite of the hand dealt to them."

"Yes." "Even a vampire can choose to be good, can have a soul so pure his aura is clear gold."

Elise's eyes widened. "A vampire? You've seen this vampire in Highland Home?"

 

"Yes."

 

"And he has a clear gold aura, you say?"

 

"Unless he is angry, yes. When he's angry it darkens."

"Interesting," Elise tapped her fingernail on the arm of her chair. "I've never met a vampire who chose to be good, but in theory it would be possible. It would be excruciating for him much of the time, but it would be possible."

"Why would it be excruciating?" I was afraid I already knew the answer to my question, but I had to know for certain.

"He would have to fight the very real, biological need to feed in order to be around humans and not kill them. From the explanation I've had from vampires, that thirst is extremely painful, especially if the vampire denies it."

Mathias had chosen to be good, chosen to keep the deeply beautiful soul he'd had as a human even when his humanity had been stripped from him on the cobblestones of our harbor in 1922. He had chosen to resist the pain his thirst caused him in order to live in the light among humans for almost a century. And I had rejected him because I thought he wasn't trying hard enough not to kill his food.

The hypocrisy of my rejection hit me like a punch in the gut. Mathias had never once repudiated me because I ate meat someone else killed and sent to a supermarket. My self-righteous indignation felt cold and ugly as I realized there was little difference between the hamburger I ate for lunch and the donors who offered Mathias their blood, save one. Mathias' food volunteered. Mine had no choice.

Chapter 8

The corner of the dimly lit bar was occupied by a young woman. She looked up as Mathias approached. Her smile was wide and inviting and it made my stomach clench with jealousy. Mathias did not return the smile. The deep purple bruises under his eyes made his normally black eyes appear even darker.

"You are willing?" Mathias asked through clenched teeth.

 

"Extremely."

 

Mathias sat next to the woman and motioned to the barmaid. She set an empty glass on the table before turning away.

 

"What's your name, lover?" the woman in the booth whispered.

 

"Mathias." He took the woman's arm, running his fingers from her wrist to the bend of her elbow.

 

"Don't you want to know mine?"

 

"I care only that you are willing," he said. "Have you changed your mind?"

 

"No. Most other vamps want to talk is all."

"I do not." There was a flash of silver and the girl gasped. Mathias slipped the wine glass under the girl's elbow where it caught the thin stream of blood flowing from the cut he'd made on her inner arm.

The girl's eyes were glassy and she smiled vacantly as Mathias carefully held the tiny blade he'd used to cut her away from himself. He slipped a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it over the cut to stop the blood flow. The glass had no more than an inch of blood in it.

"You have my thanks," he said, rising and taking the glass with him. Before he turned away, he dropped several bills on the table. Mathias carefully walked across the bar to an empty booth as far from the woman as he could get and sat alone.

As the dream faded, I saw Mathias lift the glass to his lips. His eyes closed in near ecstasy as his throat worked.

 

***

My bedroom was dim and distant in the early morning light. My gut was still clenched tight with jealousy for the woman in the bar and it took several minutes for me to process anything more than what that woman had done for Mathias.

When rational thought returned, I was humbled by what I'd seen. That woman had done something so selfless, something I didn't think I could do. And Mathias had left her alive. Not only had he left her alive, he had paid her and been deliberately distant to her. It was only because I'd seen his memories and heard his screams of anguish that I could see the difference between the meal I'd just dreamed of and those that had come before.

The tiny amount of blood Mathias had taken from the woman explained his sickly appearance as well. He was consuming only enough blood to keep himself alive and he was suffering. For me.

I realized it was my disgust with his feeding that had likely prompted the change. Hadn't he told me he'd starve himself if it meant I would stay with him? He wasn't starving, but it was a near thing.

I wanted to believe this dream more than any other dream I'd ever had. Mathias hadn't killed that woman. He had taken what he'd needed, but there had been no frenzy, no death. The whole thing had been rather civilized. I closed my eyes and curled onto my side. For the first time in my life, I sought sleep and the dreams it would bring.

"I love you, Mathias," I whispered and let Morpheus claim me once again.

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