Lover Reborn
Chapter Fourteen
As John Matthew stood on the shores of the Hudson River about fifteen minutes north of downtown Caldwell, he felt like he was a thousand miles away from everyone.
At his back, he had the prevailing breeze as well as a small hunting cabin that, if you didn't know what it was, you'd write off as something not worth the effort to knock over. The place was a fortress, however, with steel-reinforced walls, an impenetrable roof, bulletproof windows... and enough firepower in its garage to make half the population of the city see God up close and personal.
He had assumed Xhex would come here. Been so convinced, he hadn't bothered to track her.
But she wasn't -
A flare of headlights off to the right brought his head around. A car was coming down the lane, slowly approaching the cabin.
John frowned as he got an earful of the engine: low, deep, a mean growl.
That was no Hyundai or Honda. Couldn't be a Harley, too smooth.
Whatever the hell it was meandered by and kept going, all the way to the tip of the point where that big-ass house had been put up. A few moments later, lights began to go on inside the mansion, illumination pouring out of its curved porches and stacked, three-story straightaways.
Damn thing looked like a spaceship about to take off.
Not his biz. And it was time to go, anyway.
With a mute curse, he scattered his molecules and zeroed in on the armpit of Caldie, that stretch of bars, strip clubs, and tattoo places down around Trade Street.
The Iron Mask had been Rehvenge's second club, a dance/sex/drug facility created to cater to a Goth demographic unserviced by his first establishment, ZeroSum - which had had more of a Eurotrash kind of vibe.
There was a line to get in - always was - but the two bouncers, Big Rob and Silent Tom, recognized him and let him in ahead of everyone else.
Velvet drapes, deep-seated couches, black lights... women in black leather with white makeup and hair extensions down to their asses... men clustered in groups, strategizing on how to get laid... moody music with lyrics that made you think fondly of eating a bullet.
But maybe that was just his mood.
And she was here. He could sense his blood in Xhex, and he headed through the crowd, zeroing in on the signal.
As he got to the unmarked door that led into the staff-only part of the club, Trez stepped out of the shadows. Natch.
"What's doing," the Shadow said, offering his palm.
The two clapped a grip, knocked shoulders, and slapped each other's backs.
"You here to talk to her?" When John nodded, the guy opened the door. "I gave her the office beside the locker room next to me. Go on back - she's just checking her staff reports - "
The Shadow stopped abruptly, but he'd said enough.
Jesus Christ...
"Ah, yeah, she's back there," the guy muttered, like he was sooo staying out of this one.
John ducked in and strode down the corridor. When he got to a closed door, he didn't see a sign with her name on it, but wondered how long that would last.
And he knocked, even though she had to know he was here.
When she called out, he pushed in -
Xhex was in the far corner, bent over and pulling at something on the floor. As she looked up with a glare, she froze; which told him that, in fact, she hadn't noticed he'd arrived.
Great. She was so into her new old job, she'd forgotten about him already.
"Ah... hey." Glancing back down, she resumed what she was doing, yanking at -
An extension cord whipped out from underneath the file cabinet, the sharp-toothed end going flying.
Before it ripped around and caught her a good one, he leaped forward, snatched a hold on the thing, and took the hit himself, the sting of pain lighting off on his rib cage.
"Thanks," she said as he handed it over and stepped away. "It was jammed back there."
So... you're going to work here now?
"Yeah. I am. I don't think that other option is realistic. And" - her eyes got hard - "if you try to tell me I can't - "
God, Xhex, this is not what we are. He motioned back and forth over the desk that separated them. This is not us.
"Actually, I guess it is, because we're here, aren't we."
I don't want to stop you from fighting -
"But you have. Let's not pretend otherwise." Xhex sat down in the office chair and leaned back, a squeak rising up. "Now that you and I are mated, the Brothers, even your king, take their cues from you - no, wait, I'm not finished." She closed her eyes as if exhausted. "Just let me talk this out. I know they respect me, but they respect a mated male's prerogative over his shellan more. It's not specific to the Brotherhood - it's the very fabric of vampire society, and no doubt it's because a bonded male is a dangerous animal. You can't change that, and I can't live like that, so yeah, this is where we are."
I can talk to them, make them -
"They're not the root problem."
John felt a sudden urge to punch a wall. I can change.
Abruptly her shoulders dropped, and her eyes, those gunmetal gray eyes, grew stark. "I don't think you can, John. And neither can I. I'm not going to sit home and wait for you to come back at dawn every night."
I'm not asking you to do that.
"Good, because I'm not going back to the mansion." As John felt the blood drain out of his head, she cleared her throat. "You know, that whole bonding thing... I know you can't help it. I was pissed off when I left, but I've been thinking it over ever since then, and - Shit, I know if you could feel different, be different, you would. The reality is, though, we could spend another miserable couple of months figuring that out, and learn to hate each other in the process - and I don't want that. You don't want that."
So you're done with me, he signed. Is that it?
"No! I don't know - I mean, fuck." She threw her hands up. "What else am I going to do? I'm so frustrated with you, with me, with everything - I'm not sure I'm even talking any sense."
John frowned, finding himself in the same tough spot she was in. Where was the middle road?
There is more to us than this, he signed.
"I want to believe that," she said sadly. "I really do."
On impulse, he walked around the desk and stood over her. Gripping the armrest, he turned the chair toward him and put out both his palms, offering them to her.
There was no demand. No aggression. She would choose or not choose.
After a moment, Xhex placed her hands in his, and when he pulled her up, she didn't fight him.
Slipping his arms around her, he brought her close - and then moving with power, he bent her off balance, holding her in his powerful arms, keeping her from the floor.
With eyes boring into hers, he brought their lips together once, briefly. When she didn't slap him, kick him in the nuts, or bite him, he dropped his head and took her mouth properly, plying her to open for him.
When she did, he melded her body to his and kissed the ever-living shit out of her. One of his hands ended up on her ass, squeezing; the other got clamped on the back of her neck. As a groan came up her throat, he knew he'd proved his point.
Although he had no immediate solution to the bonded-male situation, he knew this connection between them was a for-sure, in a world that had suddenly seemed filled with maybe-not.
He stopped the kiss. He put her back down where she had been sitting. He went to the door.
Text me when you want to see me again, he signed. I'm giving you your space, but know this: I will wait forever for you.
* * *
Good thing for the chair, Xhex thought as the door closed behind John.
Yeah, wow. Whatever her head was cramped up with, her body was as fluid and easy as warm air.
She still wanted him. And he'd made his point. They did fit together - at least like that.
Holy hell, did they fit together.
Shit, what to do now?
Well, one idea... would be to text him to come back, lock them in together, and break in her new office improperly.
She even reached for her phone.
In the end, however, she texted something altogether different.
We'll figure this out. Promise.
Putting the phone down, she knew it was up to her and John to find their own future - work it out of the unforgiving, rocky shoals of passing time in a way that fit what they both needed.
She'd assumed that would be fighting side by side with him and the Brotherhood, and so had he.
Maybe that was still the way. Maybe it wasn't.
As she looked around her office, she wasn't sure how long she would be here -
The knock that interrupted her was a single strong one.
"Yeah," she called out.
Big Rob and Silent Tom walked in, looking as they always did - like they were about to drop some hotshot on his head for behaving badly. And as much as she was still focused on John, it was good to have some business-as-usual up in her face. She had spent a lot of nights making sure a club ran smoothly.
This she could do.
"Talk to me," she said.
Naturally, Big Rob did the obliging. "There's a new player in town."
"In what line of business?"
The guy tapped the side of his nose.
Drugs. Wonderful - but hardly a surprise. Rehv had been the kingpin for a decade, and now that he'd departed the scene? Opportunity, like nature, hated a vacuum - and money was a great motivator.
Frickin' great. The underworld of Caldwell was already a three-legged table from hell; more instability they did not need.
"Who is it?"
"No one knows. He's come out of, like, nowhere, and just bought half a million in powder from Benloise, in cash."
She frowned. It wasn't like she doubted her bouncer's sources, but that was a lot of product. "Doesn't mean it's going to be sold in Caldwell."
"We just picked up this from a disorderly in the men's bathroom."
Big Tom tossed a cellophane packet on the desk. The thing was your standard-issue quarter-ounce serve-up, except for one little detail. It was stamped with a red ink seal.
Fuck...
"I got no idea what that writing thingy is."
Of course he didn't. It was a character in the Old Language, one that didn't have an equivalent in English. Typically it was stamped on official documents, and it represented death.
The question was... who was trying to take Rehv's place - who happened to be of the race?
"The guy you got this from, did you let him go?" she asked.
"He's waiting for you in my office."
Xhex got up and came around the desk. Nailing Big Tom in the arm with a quick punch, she said, "I always did like you."
At his back, he had the prevailing breeze as well as a small hunting cabin that, if you didn't know what it was, you'd write off as something not worth the effort to knock over. The place was a fortress, however, with steel-reinforced walls, an impenetrable roof, bulletproof windows... and enough firepower in its garage to make half the population of the city see God up close and personal.
He had assumed Xhex would come here. Been so convinced, he hadn't bothered to track her.
But she wasn't -
A flare of headlights off to the right brought his head around. A car was coming down the lane, slowly approaching the cabin.
John frowned as he got an earful of the engine: low, deep, a mean growl.
That was no Hyundai or Honda. Couldn't be a Harley, too smooth.
Whatever the hell it was meandered by and kept going, all the way to the tip of the point where that big-ass house had been put up. A few moments later, lights began to go on inside the mansion, illumination pouring out of its curved porches and stacked, three-story straightaways.
Damn thing looked like a spaceship about to take off.
Not his biz. And it was time to go, anyway.
With a mute curse, he scattered his molecules and zeroed in on the armpit of Caldie, that stretch of bars, strip clubs, and tattoo places down around Trade Street.
The Iron Mask had been Rehvenge's second club, a dance/sex/drug facility created to cater to a Goth demographic unserviced by his first establishment, ZeroSum - which had had more of a Eurotrash kind of vibe.
There was a line to get in - always was - but the two bouncers, Big Rob and Silent Tom, recognized him and let him in ahead of everyone else.
Velvet drapes, deep-seated couches, black lights... women in black leather with white makeup and hair extensions down to their asses... men clustered in groups, strategizing on how to get laid... moody music with lyrics that made you think fondly of eating a bullet.
But maybe that was just his mood.
And she was here. He could sense his blood in Xhex, and he headed through the crowd, zeroing in on the signal.
As he got to the unmarked door that led into the staff-only part of the club, Trez stepped out of the shadows. Natch.
"What's doing," the Shadow said, offering his palm.
The two clapped a grip, knocked shoulders, and slapped each other's backs.
"You here to talk to her?" When John nodded, the guy opened the door. "I gave her the office beside the locker room next to me. Go on back - she's just checking her staff reports - "
The Shadow stopped abruptly, but he'd said enough.
Jesus Christ...
"Ah, yeah, she's back there," the guy muttered, like he was sooo staying out of this one.
John ducked in and strode down the corridor. When he got to a closed door, he didn't see a sign with her name on it, but wondered how long that would last.
And he knocked, even though she had to know he was here.
When she called out, he pushed in -
Xhex was in the far corner, bent over and pulling at something on the floor. As she looked up with a glare, she froze; which told him that, in fact, she hadn't noticed he'd arrived.
Great. She was so into her new old job, she'd forgotten about him already.
"Ah... hey." Glancing back down, she resumed what she was doing, yanking at -
An extension cord whipped out from underneath the file cabinet, the sharp-toothed end going flying.
Before it ripped around and caught her a good one, he leaped forward, snatched a hold on the thing, and took the hit himself, the sting of pain lighting off on his rib cage.
"Thanks," she said as he handed it over and stepped away. "It was jammed back there."
So... you're going to work here now?
"Yeah. I am. I don't think that other option is realistic. And" - her eyes got hard - "if you try to tell me I can't - "
God, Xhex, this is not what we are. He motioned back and forth over the desk that separated them. This is not us.
"Actually, I guess it is, because we're here, aren't we."
I don't want to stop you from fighting -
"But you have. Let's not pretend otherwise." Xhex sat down in the office chair and leaned back, a squeak rising up. "Now that you and I are mated, the Brothers, even your king, take their cues from you - no, wait, I'm not finished." She closed her eyes as if exhausted. "Just let me talk this out. I know they respect me, but they respect a mated male's prerogative over his shellan more. It's not specific to the Brotherhood - it's the very fabric of vampire society, and no doubt it's because a bonded male is a dangerous animal. You can't change that, and I can't live like that, so yeah, this is where we are."
I can talk to them, make them -
"They're not the root problem."
John felt a sudden urge to punch a wall. I can change.
Abruptly her shoulders dropped, and her eyes, those gunmetal gray eyes, grew stark. "I don't think you can, John. And neither can I. I'm not going to sit home and wait for you to come back at dawn every night."
I'm not asking you to do that.
"Good, because I'm not going back to the mansion." As John felt the blood drain out of his head, she cleared her throat. "You know, that whole bonding thing... I know you can't help it. I was pissed off when I left, but I've been thinking it over ever since then, and - Shit, I know if you could feel different, be different, you would. The reality is, though, we could spend another miserable couple of months figuring that out, and learn to hate each other in the process - and I don't want that. You don't want that."
So you're done with me, he signed. Is that it?
"No! I don't know - I mean, fuck." She threw her hands up. "What else am I going to do? I'm so frustrated with you, with me, with everything - I'm not sure I'm even talking any sense."
John frowned, finding himself in the same tough spot she was in. Where was the middle road?
There is more to us than this, he signed.
"I want to believe that," she said sadly. "I really do."
On impulse, he walked around the desk and stood over her. Gripping the armrest, he turned the chair toward him and put out both his palms, offering them to her.
There was no demand. No aggression. She would choose or not choose.
After a moment, Xhex placed her hands in his, and when he pulled her up, she didn't fight him.
Slipping his arms around her, he brought her close - and then moving with power, he bent her off balance, holding her in his powerful arms, keeping her from the floor.
With eyes boring into hers, he brought their lips together once, briefly. When she didn't slap him, kick him in the nuts, or bite him, he dropped his head and took her mouth properly, plying her to open for him.
When she did, he melded her body to his and kissed the ever-living shit out of her. One of his hands ended up on her ass, squeezing; the other got clamped on the back of her neck. As a groan came up her throat, he knew he'd proved his point.
Although he had no immediate solution to the bonded-male situation, he knew this connection between them was a for-sure, in a world that had suddenly seemed filled with maybe-not.
He stopped the kiss. He put her back down where she had been sitting. He went to the door.
Text me when you want to see me again, he signed. I'm giving you your space, but know this: I will wait forever for you.
* * *
Good thing for the chair, Xhex thought as the door closed behind John.
Yeah, wow. Whatever her head was cramped up with, her body was as fluid and easy as warm air.
She still wanted him. And he'd made his point. They did fit together - at least like that.
Holy hell, did they fit together.
Shit, what to do now?
Well, one idea... would be to text him to come back, lock them in together, and break in her new office improperly.
She even reached for her phone.
In the end, however, she texted something altogether different.
We'll figure this out. Promise.
Putting the phone down, she knew it was up to her and John to find their own future - work it out of the unforgiving, rocky shoals of passing time in a way that fit what they both needed.
She'd assumed that would be fighting side by side with him and the Brotherhood, and so had he.
Maybe that was still the way. Maybe it wasn't.
As she looked around her office, she wasn't sure how long she would be here -
The knock that interrupted her was a single strong one.
"Yeah," she called out.
Big Rob and Silent Tom walked in, looking as they always did - like they were about to drop some hotshot on his head for behaving badly. And as much as she was still focused on John, it was good to have some business-as-usual up in her face. She had spent a lot of nights making sure a club ran smoothly.
This she could do.
"Talk to me," she said.
Naturally, Big Rob did the obliging. "There's a new player in town."
"In what line of business?"
The guy tapped the side of his nose.
Drugs. Wonderful - but hardly a surprise. Rehv had been the kingpin for a decade, and now that he'd departed the scene? Opportunity, like nature, hated a vacuum - and money was a great motivator.
Frickin' great. The underworld of Caldwell was already a three-legged table from hell; more instability they did not need.
"Who is it?"
"No one knows. He's come out of, like, nowhere, and just bought half a million in powder from Benloise, in cash."
She frowned. It wasn't like she doubted her bouncer's sources, but that was a lot of product. "Doesn't mean it's going to be sold in Caldwell."
"We just picked up this from a disorderly in the men's bathroom."
Big Tom tossed a cellophane packet on the desk. The thing was your standard-issue quarter-ounce serve-up, except for one little detail. It was stamped with a red ink seal.
Fuck...
"I got no idea what that writing thingy is."
Of course he didn't. It was a character in the Old Language, one that didn't have an equivalent in English. Typically it was stamped on official documents, and it represented death.
The question was... who was trying to take Rehv's place - who happened to be of the race?
"The guy you got this from, did you let him go?" she asked.
"He's waiting for you in my office."
Xhex got up and came around the desk. Nailing Big Tom in the arm with a quick punch, she said, "I always did like you."
