Stakeout (Aurora Sky (21 page)

Normally I wasn’t fond of sharing my home
life with anyone else. To speak of it made it real. Made me sound
weak. Made me a victim.

But there was something so candid about the
way Fane looked at me. He was the only person I’d ever met who I
felt I could spill all my guts out to. And then there was Joss. The
book lowered to his lap.

I wasn’t sure what it was about him, but I
didn’t care if he listened in. From the little I knew of Joss,
which was very little considering my job was to know at least
something about the vampires I came into contact with, the guy was
a recluse. Probably wouldn’t survive in this everlasting life of
his without Fane.

The ice crackled inside my glass as I drank
half the cocktail. I eyed the floor, looking for a place to set it.
Fane pointed to a coaster on the coffee table. Once I’d gotten up,
set it down, and resettled, I opened my mouth to speak. I’d planned
to start with recent events—Clive finding me, taking my things, or
maybe start with the suicide attempt, but when the words came out
they were from much further back than that.

“When I was twelve, I once left a carton of
milk out all day. When my dad came home and saw it, he very calmly
picked up the carton, brought it to me, and made me drink the
entire thing. It was in the summer time, and it had started to
sour.” My nose wrinkled. “It had this rancid taste from the very
first sip. I told him no. Then he grabbed my arm and squeezed it
until I thought my bones would break. He did that a lot. I used to
wish he’d break my arm, snap my bones so I could show the world
something physical my daddy had done to me, but since he was a
physician, he knew just the right amount of pressure to apply
without damaging the bone or tissue. My skin never even turned
blue. Doctors,” I said, as though it were a joke—like one of those
stereotypes. Lawyers as sharks. Teachers as bookworms. Doctors as
monsters who hurt their own children when they were supposed to be
healers.

Fane set his wineglass on the coffee
table.

“Anyway, he terrified me, so I started
drinking the milk. A third of the way through I felt like I was
going to throw up. I started gagging, but he didn’t care. He
grabbed me by my jaw, pinched my nose and began forcing the milk
into my mouth. It started running down my chin and neck and
clothes, dripping all over the floor, but still he kept forcing it.
Then I threw up. He stepped back just in time to avoid the mess.
I’ll never forget his face. He looked at me with so much disgust.
Me. I disgusted him. Not his behavior.” I tapped a finger on the
tight leather armrest, watching my black nail move up and down. “I
thought at least that was the end of it but after I was done
heaving he forced me to finish the last of the milk.”

I don’t know why I’d chosen that story. There
were so many. Endless tales of insanity. I figured that had been
the first time it really hit me that my dad wasn’t just cruel, he
was crazy, and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.

I stared at the floor. Fane and Joss didn’t
speak, so I kept talking. “He was never the kind of man who yelled
or got angry. The calmer he was, the scarier. He always took this
sorta sick delight in tormenting me, my mom, and little brother. He
got this light in his eyes. Pain. Fear. He thrives off the
suffering of others.”

“You said he’s a doctor?”

I looked at Fane, who looked back at me with
the kind of certain patience a lion uses to watch a zebra passing
through the savanna.

“Where does he work?” Fane prodded.

A sick thrill ran through my body with the
initial thought that Fane meant to kill him. Did that make me as
demented as Clive? Could killing be justified when it meant ridding
the world of a truly evil person? A man who hurt people and would
continue until his dying breath?

Fane held my gaze.

“Valley Hospital,” I said.

He nodded. “I’ll stop by tomorrow.”

The way Joss made a stink last time Fane got
involved with Aurora’s kidnapper, I expected him to make another
big fuss now, but his lips remained closed.

Fane leaned forward. “You can stay here until
you find a new place.”

Again, Joss didn’t protest.

“Thank you,” I said. “Hopefully it won’t be
too long.”

This was super nice of Fane and all, but I
needed my own space as soon as possible.

“Sorry we don’t have a spare bedroom,” Fane
said. “But we’ll make the couch comfy.”

“A couch is all I need.”

“Do you have pajamas? A change of
clothes?”

“I’ve got a few things in my car.”

Good thing I had clothes from the trip to
Fairbanks. Little did I know I’d be bringing them into Fane
Donado’s home.

Fane went to school the next day. I didn’t.

He walked by the couch and into the kitchen.
The fridge door opened and closed quietly, and then he went out the
front door, shutting it gently behind himself. None of the blasting
through the room with a song on his lips like Dante.

I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling,
trying to come up with one good reason to get off the couch. Almost
everything I owned had been taken. I had no place to live. Gavin
was with Valerie. I rarely got to see my friends anymore. My
friendship with Aurora was on shaky grounds. It was a little hard
to put in the effort with my life falling apart all around me, and
I’d never been a complainer. My shit was my problem... and now
Fane’s.

Something was going down today, and that
thought pumped blood to my heart.

I sat up slowly and did a double take when I
noticed Joss at the dining room table reading the paper with a cup
of tea. How had I not heard him there?

“Good morning,” he said faintly.

“Morning,” I replied automatically.

“Were you comfortable?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” I turned away from him and
took a moment to sit quietly, thinking, waking up.

My duffel bag rested against the couch. I
leaned down and retrieved a pair of black leggings. Fane had made
up the couch with soft sheets and a thick down comforter. I flipped
it aside, pulled the leggings on, and got up and headed for the
bathroom.

When I returned, Joss nodded at a plate of
toast and cup of steaming tea. “I made you something to eat.”

“Thanks,” I said, slipping into a chair
across from him.

There were three kinds of jams and a stick of
butter on a plate beside the toast.

Joss set his mug down. “I wasn’t sure what
kind you’d like.”

I looked from the jam to the toast to Joss.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”

Joss’s forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“I’m a vampire informant, remember? I could
tell my boss your name and where you live.”

What was wrong with this vamp? He should be
trying to kill me or at least kick me out while Fane was gone, not
serve me tea.

Joss leaned back in his chair, his face
relaxing somewhat, but never quite enough to lose the intensity
trapped in his eyes. Maybe he’d become undead with that look and
had to live with it forever.

“Francesco trusts you.”

“Do you?”

Joss regarded me for thirty uncomfortable
seconds.

“I only trust one person in this world.
Francesco.”

“So, Fane trusts me, you trust me by
default?”

Joss didn’t respond.

I reached for the butter, spread a layer over
the toast, then spread strawberry jam on one slice over the butter,
and blueberry on the second piece.

Joss watched my every move, but it didn’t
bother me. I doubted he got out much or interacted with anyone
other than Fane. In a weird way, it made me feel like a movie star.
Poor guy couldn’t take his eyes off me. That made me smile for a
brief second between chewing.

“What do you do all day by yourself?” I
asked.

“I read and I work.”

“What kind of work do you do from home?”

Joss gave me that same mind-numbing stare
before answering. “I’m a rare books dealer.”

I scrunched my nose. I don’t know, the words
“dealer” and “books” sounded unnatural together.

“It’s like a scavenger hunt across the world
wide web. I search for long lost treasures, make offers then resell
them for more.”

Joss should talk more. I liked listening to
his accent.

Joss wrapped his slim fingers around his
porcelain mug. “I still attend the occasional estate sale.”

“What about garage sales?”

He nodded. “I’ve made some of my biggest
profits from those. People don’t know what they’ve got. They toss
items of value on the curb like rubbish.”

I stopped chewing. “You don’t think too
highly of people, do you?”

Joss looked at me. His hand didn’t move, nor
his eyes, or mouth. I could almost swear he wasn’t even breathing,
and vampires breathed, at the least as far as I knew.

I shrugged. “It’s okay, I don’t either.”

Shortly after breakfast, I stepped outside to
call Agent Melcher and tell him my father had found me; I needed a
new place to live. Melcher was the only person outside my family
who knew I’d slit my wrists. He’d never chastised me or made me
feel like a weakling. Melcher had helped me find a place to room
after recruiting me so I wouldn’t have to go back home. He told me
everything that had happened had been for the greater good, that I
shouldn’t be too hard on myself. If I hadn’t picked up that knife,
we wouldn’t have met, and I wouldn’t have been handed the greatest
opportunity on earth—to rid the world of evil forces. Melcher saw
it as holy work. I viewed it more as police work, but on a much
darker, secretive, and glamorous scale.

Melcher also made it clear that if I ever
tried to off myself again I was out of the program and his good
graces for life.

There was a short pause after I explained the
situation over the phone to Melcher, minus staying the night with
Fane Donado.

Melcher heaved a sigh. “Did you try making
contact with your brother, Noel?”

Great, so he thought that somehow I’d brought
this situation on myself?

“No!” I said defensively. “I haven’t seen
Chris in eight months.” Not since I sliced open my wrists. I might
not disclose everything I should to Melcher, but I always followed
his instructions—even the most painful ones.

“Did you go anywhere near your parents’ house
recently?”

“No,” I said again.

Melcher could believe me or not. I had stayed
as far away as I could from that insane asylum.

“I’ll see what I can do. Where are you
now?”

“At a friend’s.”

Yeah, let’s leave it at that.

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