Blood Haze (8 page)

She
jumped up from her chair and stumbled from the room and began to scramble toward
the elevator, needing to place as much distance between her and the truth. She
jammed the elevator button repeatedly with hands that trembled violently. Her
vision blurred through a rush of tears.
Ian…
gone
. Her chest burned as pain lanced her heart. Why hadn’t she seen it
coming? All she’d seen was the beginning of the car accident. She should have
been able to see who’d been in the car. She should have been able to save him…
save them all.

“Arabella,”
she heard Lynx say softly from behind her, right before his hands landed on her
shoulders, and pulled her back into his granite chest.

A
sob left her lips, and she turned and buried her face in his body. “I’m so
sorry,” he murmured against her hair, as he wrapped his arms around her, one
arm around her waist, and the other snaked up so that he held her nape.

“I
don’t know what to do. It hurts too much,” she whimpered.

Spying
a deserted waiting room across from them, he led her there and pulled her onto
his lap, cradling her as if she were a child. And she let him do it, let him
take control for now. Harsh, racking sobs rose from way down deep, raking her
throat with their brutality. He rubbed his hand over her back soothingly and
just held her.

Lynx’s
senses were on overload. The enticing scent of blood lingered in the air of the
hospital, which seemed to battle with the smell of death and dying. He
struggled to maintain his control as he held the beautiful, distraught woman.
The smell of her blood drew him in as did the sound of it swooshing through her
veins.

They
sat together for nearly an hour, until her sobs were reduced to merely
shuddering breaths. He pressed his lips against her forehead. “I need to let
Karmyl know what’s happening. She was very worried,” he said lightly.

“Thank
you for being here. I don’t know what I would have done without you. Please
tell Karmyl I won’t be able to sing for a while,” she replied, as blessed
numbness seemed to settle over her.

Rising
from his lap, she wrapped her arms around herself and tried to rub warmth back
into her arms. The vulnerability she’d exuded before, now draped over her like
a shroud. “I need to go check on Drew,” she finally said.

“I
have some things to take care of myself. I’ll be back in a few hours to take
you home, okay?” he said.

“I
can get a taxi, there’s no…” she began before being silenced by his uplifted
eyebrow.

“I’ll
come get you,” he said with finality.

“I’d
appreciate that.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “I… I need to begin making
arrangements for Ian. I… I want to see him. Is that weird?”

Lynx
slowly shook his head. “Not at all. Most people need that type of closure. Wait
until I come back and I’ll go with you. Don’t try to do it on your own.”

Striving
to remove the lingering need to lean on him, she straightened her shoulders.
The time for weeping was over. Now, she needed to be strong. Sadly, she’d been
through this so many times before, she knew exactly what had to be done.
“Thanks for everything. I’ll see you in a few hours.” Without waiting on a
reply, she spun and headed back toward the elevator. When the doors opened, she
stepped inside and turned to face outward. She lifted a hand and gave a small
wave before the doors closed.

When
she reached the ICU, Nurse Lottie told her it’d be another hour before she
could see Drew. “Do you know where they have put my brother?” she asked the
nurse.

“Our
morgue is in the basement.”

“How
long will they keep him there?” Arabella asked.

“Until
you make arrangements with the funeral home to come and get him,” she replied.

“Can
I see him?”

“I’ll
call down and see if when they can set it up, okay?” Nurse Lottie said softly
with compassion.

Arabella
sat in a waiting room located outside of the ICU. Overhead, a television, with
its sound muted, showed a professional football game. She sat without watching
and tried to keep her mind blank, but it was fruitless. She didn’t want to
think about the legal ramifications of the accident which resulted in two
deaths. She didn’t want to think about why Maggie was in the car with Drew and
Ian. She didn’t even know what car they’d been in, or who’d been driving;
although, she suspected it was Drew. She took a deep breath, thinking of all
the things she’d have to do to settle up Ian’s affairs. Ian, her dear, sweet,
often misguided brother. Now, she was well and truly alone.

She
kept an eye on her watch and when the hour of waiting was up, she hurried back
to the ICU. Nurse Lottie was now gone and had been replaced by a male nurse.
His name tag read,
Cal
. Nurse Cal led
her into Drew’s room and closed the door quietly behind her.

She
sat back down on the chair and once again laid her hand over his. His face was
still just as pale as it’d been hours before. The steady beep, beep, beep of
his heart-monitor machine made her calmer. Drew was still alive. He was going
to pull out of this. She was sure of it. He’d not leave her alone… he never
had.

She
talked to him softly about anything she could think of. She talked about things
from their past... about local gossip… about anything that had nothing to do
with the accident or Ian. Finally, she just sat quietly, touching him and
drawing much-needed strength from him. She stayed until Cal came for her.

She
turned to him when they were out of the Drew’s room. “Lottie was going to set
up a time for me to visit my brother. He… was… he died this morning.”

Nurse
Cal gave her a grimace filled with sympathy. “I’m sorry for your loss. Let me
see if she left any notes regarding that.”

He
returned back to her with a yellow sticky-note clutched in his hand. “The
morgue has someone one duty for the next hour if you want to go now,” Cal said.
“Just ask for Langston.”

She
gave a small nod, and hesitated for just an instant, remembering Lynx’s words
to wait for him. But she shook that off. She had to stand on her own two feet.
She didn’t even know him, not really. And she didn’t really want him with her.
The visit with her brother… her last visit, was private. She was becoming way
too dependent on Lynx Rogan.

As
she walked nervously down the hallway to the morgue, she remembered how just
that morning, she’d come back from her run and had received that beautiful
arrangement of Cali lilies. That seemed like a lifetime ago. Now, she knew,
whenever she saw Cali lilies, she’d not smile with pleasure, but grimace with the
remembered pain of this day.

The
dimly-lit basement seemed cavernous and cold. The heels of her shoes clapped
against the tiled floor and the sound echoed throughout the space. The room smelled
of rubbing alcohol, disinfectant, and death. Death seemed to surround the area
and gave it an icy feel. A shiver ran up her spine. She saw a man sitting at a
desk, his back to her. As she drew near, he must have heard her shoes, because
he turned to face her.

“Yes?”
he asked.

“Are
you Langston?” she asked.

“Yes.”

I’m
Arabella Marks. I’m here to see my brother, Ian.”

“Of
course. If you’ll wait here, I’ll prepare him for you. I must warn you… he was
badly beaten up in the wreck,” he said.

She
couldn’t force any words out of her mouth, instead, she just nodded. She stood,
wringing her hands together and shuffling her feet. Her heart was heavy and
pounded in her chest. A lifetime of memories soared through her mind. Memories
of tire-swings and tree-houses; of trick-or-treating and Christmas joys; of
severe highs and devastating losses. Through all the craziness that
incorporated their lives growing up, it’d always been the three of them. She
and Ian; and then Drew. Now, one of the group was gone. Ian was so young, too
young to die. She brushed a trembling hand against the continuous flowing
tears.

She
turned at the sound of a throat being cleared. Langston led her over to a
curtained window with a single chair placed in front of it. Slowly, and
soundlessly, he drew the curtain back to reveal her brother lying out on a
stainless-steel table with a white sheet draped artfully over his body to hide
as much damage as possible. She sat down heavily on the metal chair, her hand
raised to her lips.

Where
Ian’s dark hair had once been worn with such vainful pride, now he’d been
shaved bald and there was nothing to hide the zigzag of cuts and the staples
which now held his scalp in place. His face had cuts and significant bruising.
“Oh, God, Ian!” she whispered raggedly.

She
staggered to her feet and pressed a palm flat against the glass, her breath
fogging the window directly in front of her mouth. She allowed her hand to
slide down the glass, smearing it with the oils from her fingertips. Stumbling
away from the window, she bumped against the metal chair. The screeching of it
sliding across the tiled floor screamed in the silent room. She turned quickly
and ran out of the room. She wished more than anything she had Drew to run to.

Exhaustion
weighed down her muscles and with slow, sluggish movements, she made her way to
the hospital entrance. Remembering Lynx was going to come and drive her home,
she sat in one of the hard plastic chairs, waiting. Time seemed to drag slowly
by and after waiting two hours, she hailed one of the taxis which cruised the
hospital.

She
unlocked the door to her house and immediately began to pull at the clothes
that now seemed to be so constrictive. Once stripped down, she crawled in her
bed, pulled the covers up to her chin, before curling into as tight a ball as was
humanly possible. Images from her day flooded her mind: Drew, with all those
tubes coming out of him, hanging on by a thread; Ian, battered and bruised,
lying motionless on that cold, sterile table – on display for anyone who chose
to look.

Pain
stabbed at her and she buckled once more under its piercing weight. Sobs ripped
from her. Tomorrow, she promised herself, tomorrow, she’d pull it together and
be strong. But for tonight, she allowed herself to fall apart. Weary and
exhausted, she eventually drifted off into a troubled sleep.

~X~

At
the time Arabella sat in the hospital lobby’s hard chairs, Lynx Rogan sat in a
dimly-lit bar normally reserved for the town’s seedier sort. He lifted another
drink to his lips and grimaced at the lack of quality. Regardless, the copious
amount he’d consumed had had the desired effect… he was numb. The time he’d sat
with the lovely Arabella had thrown him for a loop. That he’d desired her from
their first meeting was a given. But today… well, today had been different. While
he’d felt things he’d expected to feel: like the desire to ravish her
delectable body; and the desire to taste her scorching-hot blood; what he
hadn’t expected was to feel emotions like tenderness and pain for her loss. She
touched him on a level he’d not felt in many, many years.

Reaching
into his pocket, he pulled out a small heart-shaped locket on an old, thin
chain. Flipping open the aged locket, he stared at the photograph of a young
woman, Celeste Lennox Rogan. At the time of the photo, she’d just turned
twenty. She’d had black hair and eyes the color of sea-glass. She’d been the
most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He’d just turned twenty-five and had not
yet reached the age of continuum, meaning the age natural-born vampires stop
aging, thirty-three.

His
vampiral parents had warned him continuously about mingling outside their race,
especially with humans. And he’d not intended to become involved with her. He
met her during the time of the Blood Haze. She’d been invited to the party as
were all the people from the nearby town. She’d been a free-spirit and fun.
She’d thought life was a huge adventure and wanted to live it to its fullest.
He’d drunk from her that night and couldn’t seem to get enough of her. He’d
even refused to share her with the others. She’d been hazed as were all the
others, but he’d gone back for her the next night. As a result of the hazing, she’d
not remembered him, of course, but he’d known where she’d be, because she’d
told him.

He’d
followed her around town for the entire summer. They’d done all the usual
things couple do: they’d gone to the movies; taken walks through the park; had
gone to dinner; and had made long, slow love to each other. He’d fallen in love
with her. His family had railed against him, but he’d remained steadfast. He
wanted her at any and all costs.

They’d
married late in the fall, at an old mountain lodge. She’d been sweet, kind, and
a dreadful romantic… and he’d never told her what he was. He’d drunk from her
when he had to, then hazed her so she was none the wiser. Everything was
wonderful. They traveled the world and he’d shown her things that satisfied her
adventuresome soul. Things were wonderful until she’d gotten pregnant.

While
she’d been ecstatic at what she thought would be a new life, he lived in agony
because he’d known it would certainly mean her death. A human could not
withstand the birthing of a vampire hybrid. He’d demanded she abort the baby,
but she’d refused. He’d threatened to leave her if she didn’t get rid of the
baby, but she’d again refused. That he’d hurt her had been obvious.