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