Empath (Book 1 of the Empath Trilogy) (11 page)

Eventually classes were through and, after trying unsuccessfully for about two hours to study, the clock finally reached four.  James had advised me to eat before going to his house.  My guess was he probably didn’t have any people food if I did get hungry.  I wasn’t sure if I could get or keep anything down though, so I figured it was safest to try my favorite snack, peanut butter toast and a cup of tea with cream and sugar.  That would hold me and wouldn’t make me sick if my nervous stomach decided to rear its ugly head. 

As I tried to figure out when it would be decent to head over to meet James at the library, I looked at myself in the mirror.  Blech!  It wasn’t looking good.  My dark, wavy brown hair was sticking up from being in and out of the wind all day, I had circles under my eyes from not sleeping well last night and my clothes were rumpled from being sat in.  There was no way I was going to be taken seriously by anyone looking like this.

My closet was not stocked with much for me to work with.  Clearly I was not a Cosmo girl, nor did my lifestyle have much call for party attire.  While I was washing my hair in the bathroom down the hall, I was clicking through fashion ideas.  I finally settled on my favorite jeans and a cream v-neck sweater that accentuated my dark French features and lighter brown eyes.  The clothes fit my petite athletic build well, but having heard that my eyes were my best feature, I decided to draw attention to them and throw a touch of dark eyeliner on.  My hair was proving difficult, so I gave up and pulled my shoulder length hair back into a loose ponytail.  Functional and hopefully reasonably attractive, that was the best it was going to get tonight.

Five thirty.  I could leave now and be justifiably early without appearing eager.  It would only take about ten minutes to get to the front of the library.  But he might be early so that would be reasonable, I justified to myself as I shrugged into my light green down coat.  It was dark early now and with the wind up it was downright chilly.  Winter was already bearing down on us.  Every Minnesotan has at least three coats for all of the different flavors of fall and winter.  This one was my favorite.  I almost looked forward to colder weather so that I could add my fluffy cream scarf, hat and gloves that looked so good with it.   I sighed, only here in the frozen north.

Zipping up, locking my door, and putting my keys in my pocket had never felt so final.  What if things went wrong and I died tonight?  How long would it be before someone knew I was missing?  Stephen would probably be the only one who would even notice my absence here on campus.  My stomach gave a turn.  Stephen wouldn’t let me go if I was in danger, he’d told me as much as had Troy when he’d offered clan protection.  That extended to their allies, right?  That was where the undeniably strong draw to James kicked in.  I
had
to see him again.  The idea of he and I together, alone, was both terrifying and irresistible all at once.  Maybe I was one of those girls drawn to “bad boys.”  No, there had been plenty of bad kids at my high school that did nothing for me.  It was just this one.  The sane part of my brain hoped for my safety that his allure would wear off as I spent more time with him.  It looked like I would find out very soon.

He was early.  As I walked up to the library’s front doors from my side of campus, I looked to the curb just beyond and saw a sleek black car under the streetlight.  Silhouetted in the foreground against the bushes across the road behind it, the car caught my attention, but that wasn’t what held it.  There he stood, arms crossed and leaning against his car.  He wore a light blue sweater, a glimpse of white undershirt visible at the open neck and dark blue trousers.  How did he do that with his hair?  He was pale, but not as pale as last night.  Curious.  Upon seeing me, he stepped forward a few feet and spoke to me without a readable expression on his face.

“Claire, are you ready to come with me?”  His voice sounded even better than I remembered.  It was husky, as if he had lowered it for privacy; not that he needed to, this edge of campus was deserted this time of night.  Everyone was either at dinner or evening classes.

All of my breath left my body.  Heart racing, stomach flipping, I nodded a “yes” as I stepped forward to meet him.  James uncrossed his arms and turned gracefully to open the passenger door for me.  I stepped in and buckled up.  As I clicked my seatbelt, he was already in on his side and turning the key in the ignition.  He was so quick it was unsettling.  The movies had gotten that part right.  What else had they been right about?  I felt my stomach lurch.

We drove quickly off campus and reached the freeway in less than a minute.  His A6 was the nicest car I’d ever been in and it was hard not to relax into the butter soft leather of my seat as the engine growled its way out of the city.  It didn’t take long, and before I’d gotten too comfortable, we were getting off the freeway at the Penn Avenue exit.  I was relieved when we turned off and headed into the nicer area.  Though I wouldn’t usually care if he lived in a nice neighborhood, I’d lived in some dicey military housing along the way, this was already a stressful situation and I felt just that little bit better knowing we would not be in a tough part of town should I need to make a run for it.  He surprised me again by turning into a driveway just off the main drive in the upscale Kenwood neighborhood. 

The driveway was short, as they were in this older neighborhood.  It was herringbone paving stones with a low stone retaining wall between his house and the neighbor to the right, which was the side the garage touched on and we now pulled into.  The house itself was a Tudor style with a sweeping roofline and a higher peak over two stories.  The stonework on the front made it look very storybook.  It was hard to see the landscaping given the darkness, but I could see that he had a purple leaf sand cherry surrounded by roses in the front garden, uplit for effect.  This was my kind of house, complete with a round topped wooden door. 

I must have sat too long, because by the time I took a breath and unbuckled my seatbelt, he was at my door opening it for me again.  Not usually one for chivalry, I found myself a tiny bit pleased with his gentlemanly manner.  Shaking my head, I tried to ignore the small voice in my head suggesting maybe that meant he wouldn’t eat me.

When I looked out to stand up, he was just inches away, waiting.  His effect on me was a repeat of the night before.  It was going to be a challenge not to act like a total goober around him and convince him I was worth his time.

James held out his hand to me, his eyes so intense I found it hard to breathe.  “Are you coming?”

Breathe you moron, I told myself.  “Yes, just give me a minute, I’m a little nervous.  This is kind of new to me.”

“What, going to a strange man’s house?”  His lips twisted into an uneven grin, teasing me.

“No, a vampire’s,” came blurting out before I could think.

His features hardened and his eyes went dark.  “Let’s go inside so that we can speak freely.”   

I wished the floor would open and swallow me whole.  Vampires were real; why couldn’t people-swallowing-vortices be too?  Why would I say such a thing on a public street in his neighborhood?  I was guessing he didn’t want to be outed right here or he would have posted a sign.

Deciding it was best to just keep my big mouth shut, I hung my head and followed him dutifully into the house. 

Ch. 12

Inside, the house was as welcoming as it had felt from the outside.  Just like Tara’s house, the front room had no TV.  Did supernatural folk not watch TV?  But he did have a low, sleek Havana brown leather sofa flanked by warm mahogany end tables.  There was a soft looking camel colored blanket tossed casually over the back of the couch.  I reached out to touch it.  Cashmere; I loved the feel of cashmere. 

The room was painted a grey blue not unlike his eyes, with curtains cut from cream silk.  The living room was clean and masculine, opening up into the dining room with a small square table and four high backed wooden chairs pulled up tight in matching mahogany.  The décor was simple, but obviously of good quality.  I could tell that the wood was hand crafted by the dovetailing and metal accent pieces instead of being machine milled. 

Running my hand along the top of the end table nearest me I was curious, “Is this Amish crafted?  These are mission style, but not the new way.  They’re really high quality pieces.” 

James had led the way into the dining room without giving me a backward glance but turned slowly with a curious look on his face.  “Are you are a furniture expert?”

Why did I open my big mouth?  I sounded like a know it all, “No, my dad makes furniture in his spare time so I know a little.”  Awkwardly, I brought my hand back to my side and looked around the room again, wishing I had spent more time learning to make small talk. 
Social idiot
kept running through my mind like a schoolyard taunt.  Now all I could think of were vampire questions and to ask what Henry meant by flamboyant kills or what he thought my chances might be for learning to master my gift, but all of that seemed like overkill after my flub in the driveway.  I shifted from one foot to the other, nervously uncertain what to do.

James raised his eyebrows curiously.  “How interesting,” was all he said as he moved into the kitchen while I was having my defeatist self-talk.  His voice floated out of the kitchen, “Could I get you anything to drink?  I have water, coffee and tea.”

“I’d take a tea.  What kind do you have?”  A man who had tea; I was impressed.

He poked his face back into the kitchen doorway.  “I apologize but I only have black tea.  Not many of my guests take more than that, but I remember enjoying it a long time ago.  It was always my preference over coffee, not so bitter smelling either.”

I walked up toward the kitchen, “My grandmother was French and brought up in Canada kind of old school.  When we would go visit, we would have tea.”

He smiled strangely.  “I will get the cream and sugar as well.” 

I felt myself grinning back, relaxing a little for the first time with him.  “Good guess.”

Following him into the kitchen, I took in the details.  Again with the dark wood, mission styled cabinets, lots of glass fronts and deep green and black granite counter tops.  The dark colors didn’t make the house seem small like they sometimes can; instead, it felt cozy and lived in.  It was easy to picture myself cuddled up on the couch with the blanket, reading a book in the winter or cooking in this kitchen.  It felt like home, odd for a girl who’d always grown up without a sense of what that meant.

“Did you design this kitchen or have someone do it for you?”

“I designed the entire house, why?  Do you like it?”  He asked over his shoulder as he filled up the teakettle with his back to me, giving me a long look at his broad shoulders.

“Just curious.  Especially with the kitchen since you probably don’t use it much.”  There, I did it again.  Pointing out his being different when here he’d been polite enough not to have done the same to me yet. 

He stopped filling the teakettle, set it down and turned around, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter.  I swallowed hard. 

“Do you have a problem with what I am?  You knew it before we agreed to this arrangement.”  It was hard to read his face, he’d wiped any traces of feeling from it. 

There was a spot on the floor that I gave all my attention as I answered, “No, I have just never met a… one of you before.  Last night was the first I had even heard that you really existed.  I guess I don’t know how to go about all of this.”  My manners finally surfaced and I looked up at him, “I’m sorry if I have offended you.  I would never do that on purpose.”  My remorse was genuine and I hoped he could tell that.  I really didn’t want to make him angry or hurt his feelings.  It wasn’t just because he was attractive, well there was that, and then the whole I’ve-never-known-one-of-them-before thing so it was understandable how I was tripping all over myself.  At least as far as I was concerned. 

He considered my rationale before slowly dipping his chin once.  “I guess that makes sense.”  With that, he finished putting the kettle on and turned back to indicate with one hand that we were returning to the living room.  “Shall we, then?” 

James followed my lead and waited patiently while I picked a perch on the far side of the couch.  He sat in the matching leather side chair opposite me.  Apparently I was supposed to start only I was a blank.

“So, um, what do we do first?”  My voice quavered and I cleared my throat.  I hoped my tentative shielding would at least hold enough for me to make a decent showing for whatever it was I was supposed to do here.