Only Witness, The (30 page)

              “Love it,” Lina replied. “I fear that it may be a problem, as it's something that's going to take him away from you, possibly until after the full moon. I realize that must be upsetting for you to hear; however, I need you to know that it's not optional. This needs to be done. The Council has ordered it. Do you understand what that means?”

              “I'm not stupid, I know what optional means.” It meant that even if Deacon didn't want to go, he had to, and she had to make sure that he did. Maybe it was actually for the best, maybe it was better for him to be as far away from her as possible when the moon rose. “He'll do it. You don't have to worry about that.”

              “I'm worried about you,” Lina replied. “You say you feel good, but you don't look it. I'm sorry to be blunt. Why don't you tell me the truth?”

              “I've been feeling a little run down, it's not surprising. I've got a ton of stuff going on with getting settled here.”

              “Have you been feeling ill?”

              “Maybe a little, but I think it's just a cold.”

              “It's not,” Lina let out a sigh. “It's the first effects of the bite, your body is trying to fight against it as it would try to fight off an infection. You've been having fevers? Chills? Sweats?”

              “Yes,” Vera yanked a pan off of the hanging rack, grabbed olive oil and garlic. “But it's just a cold, just a simple cold. Nothing more.”

              “Vera...”

              “I said it's a cold, nothing more,” she cut Lina off before she could say anything else. Stiff silence fell over the kitchen, and Vera did the only thing she could, she concentrated on making a marinara sauce, because if she didn't she was going to fall into a jumble of jagged pieces. Conversation had started again, very awkward and uncomfortable, but they'd managed to make it through Vera cooking without the subject of Vera's health or Deacon's task coming up.

              Lina had eaten her pasta, had another bottle of water and then left as abruptly as she'd come. Vera was left alone in a quiet house with too much pasta and a heaviness on her shoulders she couldn't begin to describe.

              She did the dishes, scrubbed down the kitchen so it was clean enough to perform surgery in to keep herself busy. If she was busy, then she couldn't think. If she didn't think then she wouldn't be tempted to open the envelope which Lina had left behind, the envelope that contained whatever The Council had ordered for Deacon to do.

              Vera had called Susan, asked that she and Houdini get dinner out so that there would be time alone with Deacon to tell him most of what she'd learned from Lina. There was no way in hell she was telling him that her getting this stupid cold could very well be her body rejecting the first inkling of the change. When there was nothing left to clean, Vera headed into the living room, sat on the couch to wait. There was nothing else that she could do.

<#<#>#>#>#

              The mirror on the wall near the door shook as Deacon pushed the front door open. He'd wanted to come home hours earlier, in the middle of the afternoon when he'd felt Vera close down on him. It was something that they'd talked about, agreed not to ever close down the empathy, especially now. “VERA!” He'd been unable to leave, leaving would mean losing his job, and right now he was the only one working in the house. Susan had a few good possibilities, but so far Houdini had no luck. Vera had offered to get a job and he'd said no. She had enough to worry about without trying to find work.

              “I'm in the living room,” she called out, voice full of something that he couldn't place. What the fuck was going on?

              “What happened?” He demanded as he strode into the living room. Vera was on the couch, hair pulled up into a sloppy knot at the top of her head and her clothes were covered with bleach stains. “Vera?”

              “I'm okay,” she smiled nervously at him. “But we need to talk. I had a visitor today.” Deacon moved over to sit next to her as she explained The Council had given him a task. It was bad news, but not bad enough for Vera to seem so shaken and pale.

              “We can deal with it, Vera. We knew that it was coming just not when. I wish you'd have just let me know instead of shutting down. It scared me and I couldn't leave, not if I want to keep my piece of shit job.”

              “It's not the thing they want you to do that concerns me, I'll love you no matter what they make you do. It's the timing, it's problematic.”

              Problematic was the understatement of the century. Numbness spread through Deacon as she told him he'd need to leave immediately and there was no guarantee on how long he'd be gone. “It's ten days until you change, Vera. Do you really think that I'm going to take off and leave you to do that alone?”

              “I don't think that we have much of a choice in the matter. You're the one who told me that we need to do whatever it is The Strays asked when they asked. They're asking Deke, we can't just ignore that.”

              “I am not going to leave you,” he shook his head. “Fuck that. No.”

              “Deke, look at me.” She grabbed his hands and squeezed hard. “We don't have a choice and there's not a lot of time, we shouldn't waste it arguing about the inevitable.”

              “You can't be alone,” Deacon protested. The idea made his blood run cold. He wouldn't leave her alone and scared.

              “I won't be alone. I'll have Susan and Houdini with me, and you'll come back as soon as you're finished. If it's in time that will be great. If not, I'm going to be waiting for you. We've got to think positive, right?”

              “Vera...” He wanted to argue with her more, to figure out a way where he didn't have to leave, but Deacon knew that she was right. If he refused the task, they'd be dead before the moon rose.

              “Go and open the envelope. Find out what it is. I wanted to look but I didn't.”

              “It could be...”

              “It doesn't matter,” she cut him off. “It's what we have to do.” There was a determination in her eyes that Deacon had never seen before. Slowly he felt the wall between them lower. Her emotions hit him like a kick to the nuts. She was so scared, worried for him and herself, fearing the change, but even with all that the amount of love she was exuding was overwhelming.

              “It's not right,” Deacon moved forward, cupped her face with his hands. “I will do whatever it is in time to get back here to you, I promise you that.”

              “I know,” she shut her eyes to his touch. “Go get the envelope, Deke. I already packed things for you, put together some food. It's too cold to take your bike, you'll need to take the SUV. I think that it needs gas.”

              “Vera, just stay calm.” He knew all too well that the fast way she was talking and her frantic tone meant that she was about to have an anxiety event; it was the last thing that either of them needed. “I'll get gas for the truck, it's all going to be alright.”

              “Okay, I'm relaxing. I'm relaxed. Relaxed.” She still sounded tense but at least she was trying. Deacon walked over, picked up the envelope and read his task.

              It wasn't too bad. It definitely could have been worse. He was pretty sure that he could handle it. He folded the envelope and shoved it into his back pocket. Deacon knew that he needed to leave, and soon, if he was going to make the long drive down to New Mexico.

              He turned back to face Vera, found her standing only inches away from him. He hadn't even heard her approach. “I know that you've got to go, I thought maybe...”

              Deacon didn't know what she thought and didn't give her a chance to tell him. He cut off her words with his mouth, hungry for every taste of her he could get. He let out a growl as her tongue slid against his, her teeth nipped down on his bottom lip.

              There was no time for this, but he wasn't leaving without it, not when any chance existed that he wouldn't make it back. The task seemed simple, a straightforward kidnapping and murder, if that could ever be straightforward, but things could still go wrong. He could not come back. He could be too late. She could not survive.

              Vera's hands were on his belt; she undid the leather with ease and tugged at the button of his jeans. “Easy, Baby, easy.” Deacon mumbled the words against her mouth even though the last thing that he wanted was to take time.

              He wanted her, hard and fast with her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms around his neck.  “Not easy, now.” At first Deacon wasn't sure he'd heard her right, he nearly asked if she were sure but then realized that she'd have never said it if she wasn't. There was no way he was making it to the bedroom, no way in hell. He spotted the couch and knew it would have to work, he wasn't going to throw her down on the floor. She deserved better than that.

              Most likely she deserved better than him. It was a thought that haunted Deacon more often than he liked to admit. If she'd fallen for another man, any other man, she wouldn't have been attacked. She wouldn't be facing possible death or a life of changing with the moon.

              “Earth to Deke,” she let out a nervous laugh. “We doing this or what?”

              “I love you, Vera. I love you more than I thought it was possible to love someone.” It was important to him that she know it, that she understand the true depth of his words and his feelings.

              “I know that, silly.”

              “And you don't ever have any regrets? If you'd have found someone else, someone not me, none of this would be happening to you.” Deacon hadn't realized he even felt that way but then the words were out of his mouth, and they made perfect sense. It was all his fault what was happening to her. He'd been the change in her life that caused it all. 

              “Someone else? Come on, Deke. There was never a line of suitors beating down my door and I was fine with that. I was fine with the store and reading being my entire life, and then you happened, all this happened, and I realized I might have been content with my life, but I was really never happy. I'm happy now, with you, and I wouldn't change it, any of it. Well, maybe I'd change the possibly fatal scratches part, but that's just common sense.” She let out a nervous laugh. “I love you. I couldn't imagine life without you, so no, I don't have any regrets. Do you?”

              “No, Baby,” he leaned in, brushed his lips against her. “I've got no regrets.”

              “I've got no panties on,” she blurted out the words, blushed slightly. “I mean, oh screw it, I mean I've got no panties on and we don't have a lot of time and I need...”

              Deacon knew what she needed and he was more than happy to give it to her. His hands slid down her body, gripped her ass and lifted. She was lighter now than the first time he'd picked her up; they'd need to work on that when all the craziness was over. There was a lot that they'd need to work on, but for now this was enough.

              Her legs wrapped around his waist, her hips moving in a rhythm that she knew damn well he couldn't resist. The walk to the couch seemed to take forever, but he finally laid her down, his body over hers.

              “Wait,” she pressed a hand to his chest, “I want to be on top.”

              Deacon rose from the couch, unzipped the sweatshirt he was wearing and tossed it onto the coffee table. Vera bounced up, pressed a kiss to his lips before stepping back to toe off her shoes while yanking off her shirt. He kicked off his boots and let his pants follow the sweatshirt onto the table.

              He watched Vera strip off her pants. She hadn't been lying—her skin was completely bare beneath. Deacon sat, already rock hard, and kept his eyes on her as she approached. “I ever tell you that you're beautiful?”

              “Maybe once or twice,” she straddled him slowly. “No need for flattery now, you're going to get laid without it.”

              “It's not flattery, it's the truth.” Deacon slid his hands onto her hips, guiding her towards his length. He could feel the heat radiating from between her legs. “Now's not the time to tease me, Vera.”

              “Tease? Who? Me?” Her grin was wide and confident. “Would I be so cruel?” She gave him no time to answer because her mouth covered his, tongue tangling with his. Deacon tightened his grip on her hips, pulled her tighter against him and then he was inside of her.

              “Fuck!” Deacon let his head fall back as she began to ride him hard and fast. He lifted his head to watch her. She was exquisite, with her head tilted back and her hair long and loose. It was only more erotic when she brought her hands up to cover her breasts.

              Her movements became more frantic, the warmth of her body so tight around him. It all felt too good, too good for him to last if she kept bouncing on him the way she was. Deacon gripped her hips, tried to slow her motions, but she just began to ride harder and faster. Her cries filled the air, throaty moans and soft whimpers that let him know she was close.

              With a roar, Deacon gave in to the lack of control, bucked his hips and slid his hands down to grip her ass. He thrust up, as hard and deep as he could, until he felt her walls clench around him. Vera's entire body went rigid. He knew what that meant, so he moved deeper and harder until all he could feel was her body clenching around him.

              He came with a roar, hands moving up her back to keep her from falling. “Shhh.” Deacon ran his hand over her back, tried to slow his rapidly beating heart and catch his breath. Vera's shoulders were shaking, he knew she was trying not to cry. “It's alright, Baby. Let it out. Just let it out.”

<#<#>#>#>#

              Vera remained on the porch long after the lights from Deacon's bike had disappeared down the dark road. He'd refused to tell her what the card asked of him. She hadn't pushed the issue, even though now her mind raced to every worst case scenario possible; there were a lot of those.