Black Heart (8 page)

Beth’s lips twitched despite herself. “Yes, well, it’s not my fault that my babies don’t

appreciate me.”

“Oh, come on, Mom. You know that’s not true. You just have a tendency of overdoing

it a bit.”

“No, I don’t!”

Tom chuckled softly. “Yeah, you kind of do.”

“Oh, give me one example.” When Tom opened his mouth to answer, she clarified,

“That doesn’t involve me taking care of them while they’re sick.”

“That’s easy,” Denny said. “What about our love lives?”

“What about them?” Beth demanded.

Tom shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “Ah, sweetie, you are kind of desperate to get

them married and give you grandkids.”

She scoffed, “I am not.”

“Sweetheart, you signed Tristan up without his knowledge on ten different internet dating

sites. Then you invited the ones who met your qualifications to a party where Tristan was

the only guy.”

She nibbled on her bottom lip. “So?”

“So? So, why the hell didn’t you do that for me?” Denny demanded.

Beth ignored him. “I had to do something,” she said defensively.

“Something, huh?” Tom sighed, “Sweetie, you’ve been known to drag poor unsuspecting

women across town and shove them in his direction.”

“Well,” she looked down at the floor for a moment, “I had to do something. He never

asks anyone out. Never. And he’s never brought a girl home to meet us.”

Denny chuckled. “Mom, he doesn’t have to ask women out. They throw themselves at

him. Have you not seen him? With his golden blonde hair, green eyes, perfect tan and

chiseled good looks,” he looked at Marty and winked, “much like myself except for the eyes

and hair of course, women are constantly after him. He doesn’t have to ask them out.”

“But, he never asks anyone out! And he only dates them a couple of times. He’s never

even had a girlfriend,” Beth pointed out.

“
Beth
,” Tom said tightly in warning. His eyes flashed to Marty who was now focused on

loading the dishwasher, afraid that Beth would direct her attention to her lack of a love life.

Since that was the last thing that she needed at the moment, she decided that staying quiet

and out of Beth’s radar was for the best, at least it was the best thing for her, Tristan was on

his own.

Beth’s eyebrows shot up while Denny gave her a “duh” look. She mouthed Marty’s

name and both men threw their hands up in frustration.

“Really, woman, where have you been?” Tom asked in disbelief.

“You know for a professor and a nosy mother, you’re really not that observant,” Denny

said as he stood up and walked over to the counter to cut two large pieces of cake while

Tom walked over to the fridge and poured two glasses of milk. The men sat down and ate

their cake, leaving Beth to process the new information.

She looked at Marty, who was almost finished with the dishes and then back at the men

with a calculating gleam in her eyes. “Are you sure?”

Denny shook his head as he looked at his father. “Perhaps we should reconsider having

her committed.”

Tom sighed, “I’d have to agree. I’m surprised that she didn’t notice years ago and take

matters into her own hands.”

Beth looked back at Marty who was done now with the dishes and smiled. “Hmm,

interesting. I guess I overlooked a few things.”

“I’ll say,” Denny scoffed.

Marty frowned when she noticed three sets of eyes locked on her. “What? Did I spill

something?” she asked, looking down at her clothes.

“Nothing’s wrong, kiddo. Why don’t you grab yourself a large piece of cake and have a

seat,” Tom said with a smile.

Denny licked his fork clean. “While you’re up, could you get me a slice?”

“You’ve already had a slice,” Beth said.

“But..but…,” Denny sputtered, looking horrified.

“Besides, if you have another slice, I won’t be able to send half the cake over to Tristan

with his dinner,” Beth explained as she raced around the kitchen to put a basket together.

“Fine. Get the food together and I’ll take it over. At least I know my brother won’t deny

me more cake,” he said on a heavy sigh.

Beth smiled brightly at Marty, “Actually, I think Marty should bring the food over. By

the time she finishes dropping off the food, her father might be home and then she can drag

Hank over here for a bite.”

Marty eyed her suspiciously. For years Beth had stayed out of the rift between her and

Tristan. She seemed to understand and accept that they’d grown apart. Marty was curious

at the sudden change and really wished that she’d paid a little more attention to their

conversation instead of focusing on the dishes and hoping that Beth wouldn’t turn her

attention on her.

“Okay, I could do that,” she said hesitantly.

“Great!” Beth said brightly. “When you get back, you can have some cake.”

“If I don’t eat it first,” Denny muttered under his breath as his gaze zeroed in on the cake

platter.

Beth dragged the picnic basket over to the fridge and started to load it with leftover fried

chicken, potato salad, pot roast, corn on the cob, and fruit salad. Then she placed half the

cake into a cake carrier and somehow fit that inside the basket as well.

“Here you go,” she said as she practically shoved the basket in Marty’s hands. Marty

almost toppled over beneath the heavy weight.

“Ah, Mom, maybe I should carry it over for her?” Denny asked, looking concerned

as he got to his feet. “That basket might be a little too heavy for her.”

“Nonsense, she’s a tough girl,” Beth said as she practically shoved Marty to the door.

“Sorry, Marty!” Denny yelled as she stumbled out of the house.

“Sorry about what?” she asked a second before the door was slammed shut in her face.

“Well, that was odd,” Marty mumbled as she shifted the large basket in her hands and

headed for the sidewalk. A tingling sensation crawled up her spine, giving her little choice

but to turn around. Her anxiety doubled when she spotted Beth standing in the window,

beaming and giving her a thumbs up.

“Okay, weirder,” Marty said as she looked away and headed towards Tristan’s house.

Beth was obviously up to something. What? She didn’t know, but it couldn’t be good.

-
-
-

Tristan ignored the two hens bitching in his living room and focused on the game.

“I’m telling ye, that’s not the best way to get this girl,” Shayne argued.

“Why the hell not? It always worked for me!” pipe man said defensively. “He’s good

looking, so it should work.”

Tristan ground his teeth and focused on slaying some vampires. Shayne gestured towards

him. “He can’t just go up to Marty and say, ‘Do ye wanna fuck or do I owe ye an

apology?’ That’s a stupid line!”

Pipe man threw his hands up in irritation. “Why not? It works!”

Shayne grumbled something about dickheads as he picked up his controller and joined

the game.

“Well, why not?” pipe man demanded, again.

“I already told ye, Patricia, Marty is a good girl. That shit won’t work on her.”

“I told you that my name is Patrick, not Patricia,” Patrick growled.

“Whatever, Patricia, until ye come up with something helpful, shush it,” Shayne said,

beheading a demon.

Patrick tried to sit on the couch, but fell through. “Well, that sucks!”

Shayne and Tristan chuckled. “Yer just a spirit, lad. Ye can’t take any type of form or

interact in this world.”

“But you can,” Patrick said accusingly.

“That’s because I’m not a spirit,” Shayne answered in a bored tone.

“What the hell are you then?” Patrick demanded as he stood up.

Shayne looked thoughtful for a moment. “I guess I’m what ye would call a shipper.”

“A shipper? You mean like UPS?” Patrick scoffed. “What the hell is that?” He held up a

hand to stop Shayne from answering. “You know what? I don’t really care, because we’ve

gotten way off the topic here.” He moved in front of television and once again blocked the

game.

Tristan and Shayne groaned. “Now, where were we? Oh, that’s right. Do what I want or

you will never experience a moment of peace again. I’ll also go spy on this Marty chick and

watch her when she’s naked,” he added to piss Tristan off.

Tristan glared as he moved to go after him. “I will fucking-“

Shayne cut him off as he gestured for Tristan to sit back down. “No, he’s right, lad. We

should help him,” he explained as he stood up and walked over to Patrick.

“That’s more like it,” Patrick agreed, grinning smugly in Tristan’s direction.

Shayne pressed a finger to his lips. “Just out of curiosity, Patricia. When ye were alive,

where did ye think ye’d end up when ye died? Heaven or hell?”

Patrick shifted nervously. “I didn’t really think about it.”

“What do ye think, lad? Where do ye think he’ll go?” Shayne asked Tristan, never taking

his eyes away from the man fidgeting nervously in front of them.

Tristan studied Patrick for a long moment. He noted the pipe in his neck and guessed that

it hadn’t landed there by accident. “I’d say hell,” Tristan said with a shrug.

“What? No way! I’ve led a good life.”

Shayne shrugged. “Let’s see, shall we?” He placed a hand over Patrick’s heart.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Patrick asked. His eyes widened as a black light emanated

from his chest.

“Well, I guess ye were right, lad,” Shayne murmured as they watched the darkness do its

job.

“Wait, what are you do-“ Patrick started to ask only to disappear in a puff of black smoke

before he could finish. The smoke quickly disappeared as if it had never been, taking all

evidence of their unwanted guest along with it.

Tristan picked up the second controller and tossed it to Shayne. “Why the hell did you

wait so long? He was really getting on my nerves.”

Shayne shrugged. “He entertained me for a bit there,” he explained unapologetically.

“Well, as long as you were entertained,” Tristan said dryly.

Shayne’s gaze shot towards the front door before he grinned that grin that made even

Tristan nervous.

“What?” Tristan asked, not liking that gleam of anticipation in the man’s eyes.

Just as quickly as the smile came it was gone. Shayne cleared his throat. “Nothing, lad.”

Then with a flick of his hand he sent Tristan’s can of soda tumbling off the arm of the

chair, spilling its contents onto Tristan’s shirt.

Chapter
5

“What the hell, Shayne?” Tristan snapped as he jumped to his feet.

“Oh, so sorry. Ye might want to take that off,” Shayne said innocently as he gestured

lazily to Tristan’s now soaked shirt.

Tristan shook his head in disgust. “Let me guess. It entertained you to do that.”

Shayne’s lips twitched. “Ye could say that.”

He shot Shayne a dirty look as he used his soaked tee shirt to dry his chest. Before

Tristan could retaliate, a knock sounded at the door.

“Ye better get that, lad,” Shayne pointed out, his lips twitching in amusement.

Tristan shot him a glare before he tossed the shirt on the table and stormed off towards

the door. Whoever was waiting started to pound on the door before he reached the hallway.

“Calm the hell down! I’m coming!” he yelled. He was in absolutely no mood for

company. Between his mother’s constant nagging, Shayne’s fucking with his head, and

being stuck on medical leave with nothing to do, he was pissed. Top that all off with seeing

Marty today and being chased off by that prick and he was in the mood to kill someone.

Well, unless it was a Girl Scout. He might let one of them live if they had some of those

caramel cookies that he was addicted to.

The pounding started again. “Unreal,” he muttered as he unlocked the door and yanked it

open. His brows shot up as he took in the sight of Marty struggling beneath the weight of

his mother’s largest wicker picnic basket.

“A little help here would be nice,” she groaned as she stumbled to the side.

Tristan shook himself inwardly as he reached out and took the basket from her. Marty

frowned at how easily he held the basket. She ran her hand through her hair to push it back

as she looked up at him and she might have whimpered, just a little.

Her memories of his body did not do him justice, not even a little bit. She remembered

that he’d always been lean and well built, but now he was….he was…..yummy. She took in

his low hanging, loose fitting jeans that gave a good view of narrow hips and a dark happy

trail that disappeared beneath the waistband. Her eyes slowly moved up over his washboard

stomach and muscular chest covered with a light dusting of dark hair and a round Celtic

tattoo on his right pec. Did she mention yummy? It should definitely be mentioned. Her

eyes moved to a dark pink wound on his shoulder, down to his large biceps and the tribal

tattoos that circled both arms. To top it all off was a golden tan that highlighted all that