The Light Who Shines (25 page)

Somehow I steady my breath and nod while grasping my shirt
to my chest. I’m grateful he still holds me because my knees are still weak and
unsteady. After a few moments, I feel the strength return to my legs. I pull
back, and Jack slowly, almost reluctantly, releases me.

I pull my t-shirt on quickly, embarrassed, and take a few
steps over to the half wall, leaning on it again with my elbows. I say, “Jack.
I felt your emotions so strongly, and then I felt you close down. I’ve never
felt anyone do that before. It’s different with you. I can only feel your
emotions when they’re strong.”

Jack says quietly, “It’s part of my training. When I was a
young Vampire I spent some time training in China at a Mahayana Buddhist Temple
in martial arts. We were trained to control our minds and emotions as well as
our bodies. My whole life is about control.”

I accept this and look out into the mist. With what little
dignity I can muster I whisper, “I’m sorry I broke down like that. I shouldn’t
have burdened you with my sob story.”

Jack remains silent, and I feel the slightest brush of his
fingers against my hair and nothing more. After a few more minutes Jack says,
“We should head back.”

I turn, and Jack descends the ladder ahead of me and helps
me down. In the stairwell he lifts me easily in his arms, and while I thrill to
feel his arms around me again, he carries me down the stairs like a man carries
a little girl, not a woman. He gently sets me on my feet at the bottom of the
stairs, and he and Varg push through the door as I follow behind.

We quietly exit the church, and Jack locks the door behind
us. We trek up the three flights to my apartment without speaking. When we
arrive, Jack and Varg do a perimeter check again while I pull down some sheets
for the sofa, figuring Jack doesn’t need much.

Jack says, “I’ll do the sofa. Why don’t you get ready for
bed.”

I nod at him and hand him the pile of linens. Selecting my
most modest nightgown, I head to the bathroom and jump in the shower. As the
warm water runs down my body, I remember the way it felt when Jack touched me.
I soap up my hands and wash my face and arms. When my soapy hands travel over
my breasts, I think it is so odd that with my hands I feel nothing, but with
Jack’s hands I feel the world. The memory of his hands on me is raw and
powerful, but then so is the pain of his cool demeanor. I finish my shower with
my body still trilling from the feel of him.

When I exit the bathroom with my robe pulled tightly around
me, Jack is reclining on the sofa. He looks up at me, and I think his eyes
flare brighter for an instant, but he doesn’t get up. His eyes flick over me,
but his face stays expressionless. His deep voice, scratchy now, asks coolly,
“Shall I turn off the light?”

I say, “Sure. I’m ready for bed now.”

Jack gets up and turns off the light. “Goodnight, Blue.”

“Goodnight, Jack.”

I slip behind the sheer curtain that makes up my bedroom,
and in a few seconds I am securely under the covers. Varg butts his head
between the curtains and comes in to take his usual position by my bedside.

I’m pillowless tonight, so I pull the corner of the
comforter up to cushion my head and try to wrap the rest around me. When my
toes peek out I curl my knees to my stomach and sigh. I can feel Jack’s
presence in the other room, and I like the way it feels. Confused, lonely, and
filled with longing still, I surprise myself by falling asleep quickly.

Jack Tanner: May 29, 2022, Red Ages

I lie in perfect stillness and listen to the sound of Blue’s
breathing evening out, then slow to a deep slumber. Her presence, just a few feet
away, tantalizes me in a bittersweet irony. The one who I should not have is
the one woman I want the most. Her scent permeates the entire space, and I can
smell the core of it coming from her body in bed. By scent alone I know where
she is, both from her fragrant skin and the rich aroma of her sweet blood. I
see the soft, bluish white glow of her aura lighting up her bedroom. I can’t
take a breath without being filled with her scent. I don’t actually need to
breathe to survive, so I stop to ease the torment. But it leaves me feeling
hollow. I take a deep breath in and savor it this time, accepting the sweet
agony.

During the middle of the night, when I can stand it no
longer, I quietly enter her bedroom and stand at the foot of her bed. Mesmerized
by this beautiful, forbidden treasure of mine, all concept of time flies away. Her
aura softly illuminates her skin and every curve. In sleep, her eyes are so
peaceful, the eyes that I adore. Even now I want to brush my lips against her
eyelids. I love the fall of her long, dark lashes against her cheeks. Her limbs
are scattered and limp, the same limbs that wrapped around me with all the
passion of a burgeoning young woman. I can’t possibly deserve something so
lovely and so filled with good.

I recall her stories of the orphanage, and it rips me apart
because I brought her there. Any hardships she endured are no one’s fault more
than mine. How could I have just abandoned a young child with a group of
strangers without knowing what it was like for her on a daily basis? I should
have watched over her more closely. I should not have let that happen.

I wrestle myself away from her side and return to the sofa.
I lie down and close my eyes, letting the visions of her in my arms flow
through my mind like a slow-moving picture. When dawn comes and Varg starts to
move about, I knock on the wall outside Blue’s bedroom.

Blue opens her eyes and sleepily says, “Jack?”

“Blue, I’m headed into the office now. I’d like to get an
early start.”

“Okay,” Blue says with a yawn. “I’ll be there before noon.”

“You need to lock the door behind me. The ward specialist
should be here soon.”

Blue opens her bleary eyes and reaches for her robe. She
throws the covers back, and her long, white limbs poke out from her nightgown
as she sets her feet on the bedroom rug. She stands, pulls on her robe, and follows
me to the door. I shut it behind me and stand outside until I hear the lock
click. For a moment I lean my shoulder on the green doorframe, reluctant to
leave her. Then I steel myself and head to the office.

Bluebell Kildare: May 30, 2022, Red Ages

I impatiently fiddle with the handle of my second cup of tea
as I watch the ward specialist finish up. He’s been chanting and casting wards
for over an hour. I’m totally unfamiliar with ward art, so I just let him do
his business. He’s a short, stocky man with glyphs and tribal designs tattooed all
over his arms and face. He sparkles from nose and eyebrow piercings, and his
short, spiky hair tops off his look. He looks fierce, and I’m not sure I would
want to cross his ward uninvited. But he seems skilled and good-natured.

When Michael Radskif finishes a particularly complex set of
movements and chants, he brings his arms down and turns toward me. “I’m all
finished here.”

I look around and ask him, “Is there anything I need to
know?”

Michael smiles and says, “This ward has a very simple entry
requirement: you have to want the person to enter. No magic word or special chant
will get someone in. No one can enter without you. Let me be clear about that—no
one can portal in or occupy a single inch of space unless your heart desires
them to be there with you.”

“That’s it? I just have to want them here? What if I want
someone in, then they do something while they’re here, and I don’t want them in
any longer?”

Michael shrugs. “It doesn’t count. You already granted them
entrance by wanting them in. When they leave, you get to decide if you want
them in again. But once they’re in, they’re in.”

So I’d best be sure about someone before I let them in.

Michael packs up his things, then he pauses and asks, “Do
you happen to know where a good herbal shop is around here?”

I smile. “I sure do. My neighbor owns one, and she’s very
good at her craft.” I think about how to tell him to get there, and then decide
it’s easiest to show him. “Why don’t I walk you out and show you where it is?
Where are you parked?”

Michael says, “Oh, I got dropped off. How far is the shop?”

I grab my jacket. “Not far.”

Michael and I start to leave, and as I close the door, Varg
tries to join us. I block him and say, “Varg, stay. I’ll be right back.”

Michael frowns at that and says, “You know, you don’t need
him to guard the place.”

“I know, but I’m just going a block with you. I don’t want
to bother with the leash.”

Michael shrugs and we walk down the three flights of stairs.
I take him through the alley, and at the end of it I point two blocks over. “See
that red brick building? Take a left there and then go two block and take a
right. It should be three blocks down.”

Michael smiles and thanks me. I watch him cross the street
and make sure he’s headed in the right direction before I turn back to the
alley to walk home.

I’ve never gone through this whole alley before today. It is
actually quite lengthy. Old, tall buildings stand on either side, lending long
and deep shadows even in the morning light. There are many alcoves and doorways
with decrepit signs hanging askew. Others are completely nondescript. How would
you know which was your door? As I walk, I hear the sound of my boot heels
echoing off the building walls and the small pebbles under my feet crunching
with each step. Then I hear the sound of gravel scraping like a foot scuffing
the ground up ahead.

I quickly lift my head, and I think I see a shadow flit by
the building two down from mine. I stand still a moment, my heart pounding. The
location where I thought I heard the sound is still several buildings away. I
look to the left and see a large garbage can. Maybe an animal got in it? But
no, I am sure the shadow was on the right. I look at the tall buildings on the
right and see nothing. I start to walk forward, quietly this time, with my eyes
and ears open. I curse that I didn’t bring Varg with me. After three agonizing
paces, a squirrel abruptly runs across an electrical line from one side of the
alley to the other. I startle, then breathe a huge sigh of relief and relax. I
must have an overactive imagination today.

I start to reminisce about how nice it was to have Jack in
the apartment last night. I should quit my job so I can ask him out. I laugh at
myself. That is ridiculous, of course, because I love my job.

My musings are interrupted suddenly when I sense the
unmistakable feeling of someone’s extreme rage just ahead of me. The emotion is
strong and violent, but I don’t see anyone. They must be hiding in the alcove.
I am almost at the building where I saw the shadow. I reach for my gun and find
that I didn’t put my gun and holster on before stepping out. Panic sets in.

I look behind me and see the long line of buildings between
me and the other end of the alley. It’s a long shot, but I spin on my boot heel
and start running back through the alley the way that I came. I hear footsteps
behind me but don’t bother to look back. I pick up my pace and run as fast as I
can. Whoever it is is fast and getting closer.

I look around for somewhere to block myself off, to protect
myself, maybe a piece of wood to use as a weapon, anything. Nothing!

Suddenly someone grabs my arm and snarls, “Aberrant.”

I’m jerked back against a building. I look up and see
Schmidt’s furious face.

“You little bitch. You think you can come in on my case and
take over.” He raises his arm and smacks me across the face.

I’m dumbfounded. I hold my hand to my face. “What are you
talking about, Schmidt? It’s Gambino’s case.”

“He would be working it with me, if you didn’t wiggle your
slutty little self into it. That’s why he pays attention to you, ain’t it? You’re
giving it to him, aren’t you?”

I see that Schmidt has gone over the edge, and I’m in a real
situation now. His face is red, and I see blood vessels in the side of his face
popping and muscles twitching.

“I’m not giving it to anyone, Schmidt. You’re just pissed
that you were wrong about Paul.”

Schmidt snarls and plows his arm into my gut three times to punctuate
each word he says. “You. Fucking. Bitch!””

I try to protect myself with my arms, but he’s a trained
street cop and much larger than I. I double over in pain and cough as I try to
catch my breath. I look up at him and say his name to get his attention, and
then I lift my knee and go for the groin. Schmidt blocks me with his leg and
gives me a fist cuff to the face. My vision goes wonky.

“I’ve had enough of your sluttiness, you little cunt. You
want to whore yourself out to Gambino, I’ll give you some of it too.” Then he
grabs my shirt and rips it open down the front.

I try to push past him, but he holds my upper arm in a vice
grip. He starts pinching my nipples and grabbing my breasts like an animal. I
claw at his face because I can’t seem to do anything else. He hits me on the
other side of my face. I go for the eyes, but Schmidt grabs my wrists and pins
them down at my sides. He holds me against the building and starts ripping at
my jeans. I struggle, but his weight is blocking me, holding me against the
building. I feel my button give and my zipper shred. I feel his sick hands grappling
with my panties. And suddenly, when I think it might be too late, he is gone. The
air fills with a snarling and the sound of his screams.

I slit open my eyes and see Varg, who appears to be twice
the size he was this morning, shredding Schmidt’s arm. Schmidt’s face is
already streaming blood. Varg has knocked him to the ground now, but he manages
to get up and start running. Varg follows him out of the alley, biting and
snarling at his heels.

I sink down to the ground and rest a moment. Varg returns
and sits by me, licking my face. I put my arms around his neck and say, “You’re
such a good boy. I promise I will never lock you away from me anywhere, ever
again. I promise.”

When the tears and stars clear from my eyes and my breathing
calms down, I gather my strength and heave myself up, using the brick wall for
support.

I slowly walk toward the apartment and then attempt the
stairs. My side hurts so bad I have to stop a few times on the way, but
eventually I make it to my apartment. I see the door is still locked, and I
wonder how Varg got out. I unlock it and head straight for the bathroom. I
vomit and vomit until finally my stomach is empty. With my head resting on the side
of the tub, I wearily turn on the faucet, running the water hot. Then I drag
myself up and sit on the toilet lid to take my clothes off. I slip into the tub
and scrub myself raw. At some point the sound of the phone ringing breaks
through my intense focus, but there is just no way I’m getting out of the tub
until I feel clean. I scrub myself all over again, then lay my head back
against the back of the tub, still feeling dirty and slimy.

Pictures of what happened flash through my head. Maybe I
should call Gambino and report Schmidt. But Varg did tear him up pretty good.
Then I cringe internally, thinking if I don’t tell Gambino then Schmidt could
do this to other women, women who don’t have a wolf. I’ll have to tell him, but
I’ll do it later. A vision of how that conversation would go flashes through my
head. “Hi, Blue. How are you?” “Oh, I’m great, Gambino. Thanks for asking.
Would you like some coffee? By the way, Schmidt assaulted me and tried to rape
me.”

With a sigh I decide to worry about this tomorrow because I
am just so tired.