Haze (25 page)

Jason pops the handle on Maggie’s suitcase. ‘Any theories on how Zarael found out about the farmhouse?’

‘The only way he could have is if they followed someone who drove there,’ Rafa says.

‘But that means they’d have to know about the family.’

‘Correct.’

‘We’ll be okay in Melbourne—they can’t track us, can they?’ Maggie asks.

‘No, Margaret.’ Rafa smiles at her. ‘But we can’t do anything stupid to flag where we are. I have no intention of ever seeing the inside of that room again.’ He stands up. ‘Right then. We’re going to need a base in Melbourne. Somewhere we can shift to and from easily without worrying about being seen. Not to mention somewhere to sleep.’

‘A hotel?’ Jason is sharper now, focused.

‘Excellent idea,’ Rafa says. ‘You paying?’

LAST SEASON’S SCARS

We arrive in a park behind a maintenance shed. The glass and concrete skyline dwarfs the trees around us. It’s early afternoon; Hannah McKenzie’s next shift at the hospital is tomorrow morning.

The hotel is on Collins Street. We stop for bagels on the way in a cafe so tiny the kitchen is under a flight of stairs. Our room has two double beds, a huge bathroom and dizzying views of the city. I don’t ask how much it costs, but I suspect I’d have to shelve books for a month to afford a night here. And Jason’s booked for two. Maggie unpacks like we’re settling in for the weekend.

Rafa’s phone rings. The conversation is short, clipped.

‘That was Ez,’ he says when he hangs up. ‘Mya took the architect to LA.’

Jason looks up from his phone. He’s been tapping and studying it for the past five minutes. ‘Is Debra all right?’

‘She should be happy she’s not at the Sanctuary with her mother.’

‘Yes, but—’

‘Goldilocks, she’s fine. She’s with a cop. Nothing bad is going to happen to her.’

Jason doesn’t seem convinced. ‘How long will she have to stay there?’

‘Depends how quickly she gives up information.’

‘I’ve met Jess,’ I say. ‘I can’t see her letting Mya hurt Debra.’

He considers this, nods, and goes back to his screen. ‘Maggie, I can get tickets to the ballet if you want to go.’

She comes back in from the bathroom, where she’s been putting her make-up away. ‘Are you sure you’re up for it?’

‘I am. Really.’ He checks Rafa and me. ‘I can book for four…?’

Rafa looks like Jason’s just offered to slip bamboo under his fingernails.

‘Thanks,’ I say before he can insult Jason. ‘But I don’t think I could sit still for that long.’

Maggie catches my eye. ‘What will you two do while we’re out?’

Rafa gives me a lazy smile. ‘I’ll come up with something.’

‘Let’s at least have dinner together first,’ Maggie says. ‘Gaby, did you pack a dress?’

I give her a flat look.

‘Of course not,’ she says. ‘Then that settles it: I’m taking you shopping.’

The afternoon sky is patchy with thin clouds, the breeze like tepid water. Maggie knows every boutique in the city. Our first stop is a tiny store in a laneway packed with cafes and outdoor tables. I know from the limited hanging space that I can’t afford anything in here, but Maggie goes in anyway. She chats with the sales assistant about new season lines and colours and then joins me at the back of the store.

‘Mags.’ I wait until she looks up. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were having nightmares?’

‘How…?’ She closes her eyes for a second. ‘Jason.’ A sigh. ‘I had them after Dad died too. It’s how I cope.’

‘You should have told me.’

‘You’ve got enough going on.’

I flick through a couple of dresses, not really seeing them. ‘What are they about?’

‘Mostly Mick getting attacked.’ She pauses, blinks rapidly a few times. ‘But last night I dreamed one of those long-haired demons was in my room. It scared the hell out of me.’

‘Oh, Mags.’ I reach for her without thinking and hug her tightly. At least in my nightmares, I always got to kill the monster.

We stay that way for a while and when I let go she wipes her eyes, laughs. ‘If I’d known all it took to get a hug was a few nightmares, I would have told you days ago.’

I smile. ‘I’m glad you’re not sleeping alone.’

She gives me a half-smile. ‘Me too.’ She pulls out a few dresses, studies them, puts them back. ‘And sorry about the interruption this morning.’

I’m about to ask what she means and then I remember she walked in on Rafa kissing my bare leg. Thinking about his lips on my skin brings a rush of heat to my face. ‘Oh, that was…’ I sigh. ‘I don’t know what that was.’

‘What’s going on with you two?’

‘Who knows? When we’re alone he can be so tender, and when he kisses me, god…’ I laugh, embarrassed. ‘But then he turns into a smartarse around other people, especially Rephaim. And any time I make a decision he doesn’t like he takes it as a personal insult.’

‘Gaby,’ she says carefully. ‘You give him just as much of a hard time, you know.’ She touches my elbow. ‘I don’t think there’s any doubt about how he feels—and that’s what’s messing with his head. He fought with the old Gabe; he’s attracted to you. Here’s a thought: maybe you two could, you know, talk about it.’

‘I’ve asked him repeatedly about what happened at the Sanctuary—’

‘I mean talk about how you feel about each other
now
.’

I choke on a laugh. ‘I’m pretty confident he feels the same way I do about deep and meaningful conversations.’

Maggie shakes her head, and then: ‘Oh my.’ She takes a hanger from the rack, shows me a silk, strapless champagne-coloured dress with a fitted bodice and layers that flare out from the hip, delicate and gauzy. ‘You need to try this on.’

‘I could never afford that.’

‘I didn’t say buy it, I said try it. Go on. How often do we get to do this?’

She hangs the dress in the change room and waits outside. I get into it carefully; the material is so thin it feels like I could tear it. Then I open the door so Maggie can zip me up. She stands back to look.

‘Wow. That is stunning on you.’

I have to admit the dress is gorgeous. I twirl, making the skirt flare. Maggie takes a photo on her phone.

I study myself in the mirror, surprised at how good it looks; at how good I feel wearing it. What would Rafa think about badass Gabe in an evening dress? I picture him next to me in a suit: tailored jacket and pants, a crisp shirt, tie slightly loose. Could we ever have a moment like that? I let my mind wander…And then I see the sales assistant staring at me, horrified. In all my daydreaming I forgot about the hellion bite. My hand comes up to cover it, almost involuntarily, and I duck back into the cubicle.

‘Gaby…’

‘It’s okay.’ I close the door behind me.

For a moment I stand there, stare at my reflection, at the too-delicate, too-expensive dress and my scar. Ride a brief and fierce wave of anger and regret. Who was I kidding? I’ve never been the kind of girl who could wear a dress like this. Maybe one day, in a different life, I might have grown into that skin, but now…not now.

I reach for the zip and the silk sways against my skin again. I can’t undo it. I exhale, open the door a crack. Maggie is waiting, pensive.

‘Can you help me, please?’

Her face softens and it takes a second for me to realise: I’ve never actually asked before.

DANCING IN THE MOONLIGHT

Maggie finds what she’s looking for an hour later: a pencil dress in robin’s egg blue with cap sleeves and vintage beading around the neckline. On sale.

She doesn’t push me to try on anything else. We both know that whatever Rafa has planned for the night won’t involve formal wear. At best it’ll be a few drinks at a bar. At worst…I’m not tempting fate by guessing what that might be.

Back at the hotel, Rafa is propped up on one of the beds, watching a boxing match on TV. Jason has changed into jeans and a shirt. He’s at the desk, reading a newspaper. He lays it down as we walk in and I catch a glimpse of a mangled car on the front page.

I flash hot, then cold. Stop moving.

‘Are you okay?’ Maggie touches my elbow as the heavy door clicks behind us. She follows my gaze to the newspaper. Jason and Rafa look too, at the upside-down car, an accident on a country road somewhere.

‘The anniversary,’ Maggie says. ‘It was today, wasn’t it?’

Rafa mutes the boxing commentary, swings his legs over the side of the bed.

I nod. The movement is jerky, forced. ‘I nearly forgot.’ Something that would have been unthinkable ten days ago.

‘It’s been a big day.’ Maggie rubs my arm.

‘Yeah, but…’ I walk to the window in a daze and sit on the sill, turn my back on the city. How could I forget the defining moment of my life? The moment that’s shaped every moment since? Even now, when I know it never happened—that Jude didn’t die in a mess of blood and gore and petrol—that moment is so heavy I can still hardly bear it.

Maggie puts her shopping bags on the table and comes over to me.

I take a steadying breath. ‘When is this going to end?’

‘When we find him.’ Rafa’s voice is quiet.

I look at him but I can’t hold his gaze. There’s too much expectation there. Too much hope.

Maggie squeezes my hand. ‘How are you feeling about tomorrow?’

‘Terrified,’ I whisper so only she can hear.

Jason turns in his chair so he’s facing us. ‘I taught Jude to fish.’

I blink. It’s not what I was expecting from him, but he’s got my attention. ‘When?’

‘About a month after your first visit to Monterosso, in the 1890s. Jude wanted to learn something other than fighting. He said all you did at the Sanctuary was eat, sleep and train. He wanted to eat something he’d caught himself.’ Jason glances at Rafa; he’s got his full attention too. ‘You arrived late in the afternoon—unexpected, as always. I’d already cleaned the nets, so I grabbed bait and lines and we took the boat a little way off shore.’

‘I came too?’

He nods. ‘You didn’t fish, you just watched Jude and teased him. He got his line tangled and jabbed himself with the hook. But he took his time and once he got his line set, he was happy to sit there and wait. He had more patience than half the men I fished with. Definitely more patience than you. We made a decent catch and cooked it over a fire on the beach. Honestly, I’d never seen anyone so pleased with themselves over a fish.’ He smiles at the memory. ‘He was a good guy, Gaby. Smart, caring.’ Jason meets my eyes. ‘When I saw him again a hundred and twenty years later, he was still that person.’

I swallow. Once, twice. It doesn’t shift the lump in my throat. I turn back to the window, press my fingertips against the thick glass. The sky bleeds purple and orange, the light almost gone. Damn Jason—he’s too intuitive for his own good.

‘Thank you,’ I say finally.

Maggie moves across to him. She squeezes his shoulder and then takes out her new dress and snaps the tags. She’s itching to put it on again.

‘Go on, go get ready,’ I tell her.

‘What about you?’

‘I’m not hungry. You two grab dinner before your show; we’ll pick up something later.’

‘Are you sure?’ She hesitates for a moment and then disappears into the bathroom. Rafa goes back to watching the silent fight on the TV, a boxer reeling back in slow-motion, a spray of sweat. Jason has turned back to the paper and is staring at the same page he was five minutes ago. I lean against the window and close my eyes. I think about how high I am above the cars and the people and the pavement; how only a few centimetres of glass stops me from plummeting towards them. I’m suspended in time and space. Waiting. Waiting for Jude.

Maggie emerges from the bathroom, gorgeous. She’s wearing the blue dress as if it was custom-made for her.

‘Wow,’ Jason says.

Maggie dips her chin, accepts the compliment. ‘Oh,’ she says to Rafa, her eyes bright. ‘You should see this.’ She hands her phone to him. ‘Recognise this girl?’

He studies the screen without speaking. Maggie turns his hand so I can see the photo. I’m a little startled by it myself: not only the fact I’m in a dress that clings to every dip and curve of my body, but that I’m relaxed. Unguarded.

Rafa takes the phone back, studies it for a while longer. Finally, he looks up and meets my eyes.

‘You need to buy that dress.’

Then Jason and Maggie are gone. Off to do something normal. To feel normal. Even before Rafa turned up in Pan Beach, I’d never felt that way. I pull my feet to the sill and rest my chin on my knees, stare out at the lights coming on around and below us.

‘What?’ Rafa says. ‘You wanted to go to the ballet?’

I sigh. ‘What’s the plan?’

He pulls on his boots and stands up. ‘It’s a surprise.’ If he were anyone else, that might sound like a good thing. ‘Come on.’ A sly smile. ‘Trust me.’

I meet him in the middle of the room. He slides his arm around me and pulls me close, links our fingers. ‘Maybe I’m taking you dancing.’ His lips are against my hair.

‘Is that before or after the bar fight?’

He starts to sway and I can’t help it, I move with him. ‘Hmm,’ he whispers. ‘I haven’t decided.’

I close my eyes, feel his arms tighten around me, his hips against mine…before the ground drops away.

It’s over in less than a second and we’re in darkness. Traffic hums in the distance, and I smell damp grass. There’s more space around us—a park maybe. Rafa and I are still locked together. Still swaying. I can’t see his face clearly, but his breath warms my cheek.

I find his mouth. The kiss is slow, sweet. Rafa’s thumb strokes my collarbone. I kiss him harder.

He breaks away first. ‘Keep that up and I’m going to forget what we came here for.’

‘Maybe I’d rather do this.’

‘Really?’ His hand slides down to my hip. ‘I was going to give you your first shifting lesson.’

My whole body snaps to attention. ‘Okay. Shit. Okay.’

He laughs and lets me go.

I look around us, feel the way my pulse has quickened. City lights wink above a bank of trees. The night sky is mostly clear, the moon bright enough that I can make out the tops of palm trees, a manicured lawn, a large lake.

‘Are we still in Melbourne?’

‘The Botanic Gardens. It wasn’t worth the argument to take you too far from Maggie.’