Crimson Sunrise (12 page)

“Rome wasn’t built in a day.” I crossed my arms and concentrated on my strategy, formulating a plan.

****

We arrived home before the sun was even close to disappearing below the horizon, the clouds streaming across the sky in multiple hues, bringing on the dusk. It hadn’t been easy to tell Chris and Beverly that Trent was coming to visit. They’d taken the news quietly, without voicing their opinions, although I was aware of their apprehension.

At least the hard part was over.

Standing on the porch, I gazed at the darkening sky. A battle was coming, and it would happen after I died.

Maybe it was strange, but even if what the old woman said was true, I wasn’t afraid. The pain I felt came from the knowledge I would have to leave someone I loved behind, and the devastation it would cause when it happened. The vengeance Caleb would seek to exact would be enough to start a battle.

I was certain of it.

The front door cracked open, and I turned toward the sound, noting Chris’s massive bulk encompassing the frame. I smiled after the familiar shock wore off, momentarily distracted by his startling resemblance to his son. After pulling the door closed behind him, he stepped over to one of the whitewashed rocking chairs, lowered himself into the wood, and reclined into the slats.

“Take a seat, Emma.”

I smiled nervously, doing as he asked, and rocked in harmony with him as we studied the darkening sky. He didn’t look over as he spoke.

“This isn’t your fault. You have to know that.”

I nodded, but it was for show. The guilt I felt was immense. It was impossible not to think I was in some way responsible for what occurred with Sammie. If Caleb and I hadn’t made our trip, we would have been with his sister when she made the drive into town.

“You’re as readable as my son.” He peered over at me. “And equally as guilt ridden.”

“I guess it’s a good thing we’ve found each other,” I joked half-heartedly and smiled sheepishly. “Nothing screams compatibility like a good slathering of culpability.”

He chuckled and cleared his throat. “Do you mind telling me the real reason Trent Balman is paying you a visit? And don’t go selling me any bullshit. I know he’s not coming here to pay a social call while he’s in the States. You have to admit that with everything that’s going on, it’s not the best timing in the world.”

“It’s that obvious?”

“I have a daughter your age”—he lowered his eyes, as if he’d forgotten for a moment about all the things that had triggered Caleb’s trip to Florida in the first place—“so I have some experience.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“And what do I think?”

“I called him because Sarah was going to have Caleb come home, and he needs to be with the pack. Sammie needs him more than I do right now. I couldn’t have him leaving before they find something.”

“And why would Sarah call Caleb?”

“It’s nothing.” I laughed nervously. “Sarah let that old woman scare her just like she scared Haven. That’s all.”

“If it’s nothing, then you won’t mind telling me about it.”

Damn, Chris was like Caleb in that aspect too. He didn’t miss a beat. He kept rocking steadily in his chair, back and forth, appearing as calm as the breeze.

I attempted to play off everything that had transpired, hoping it sounded as ridiculous as I intended. “The woman Haven sent us to meet was just an old lady suffering from a case of dementia. She jabbered incessantly in a language we couldn’t understand before trying her hand at being a prophet by warning me that a battle was on the way because I bite the bullet.”

He stopped rocking, his legs going still.

“Of course, Sarah didn’t want to hear that.” I hurried full steam ahead, words tumbling from my mouth in a rush. “Not with everything that has happened recently. She threatened to have Caleb come home unless someone else could come around to play bodyguard. The pack is with Sam, and I couldn’t think of anyone else, so I called Trent.”

Chris rotated his head slowly in my direction. His eyes, just like Caleb’s, saw more than I wanted them to. “You didn’t think my son had the right to make that decision?”

“Of course he does.” The painful ache in my chest returned. I cleared my throat before I said, “After last time, when Caleb lost control and sought comfort in the Pit, I thought it best not to add to the weight he’s already carrying.”

“I agree with Sarah. I think you should call Caleb and give him the opportunity to decide where he wants to be. You two are bonded, and my son has made his intentions clear to the pack as far as you’re concerned. Since you can’t possibly understand the intricacy that entails, you’ll have to trust me when I say Caleb’s place is with you now.”

“I’ll make you a deal. If anything else happens—
anything
—I will call him. But let’s not jump the gun over the rantings of a deranged old woman who could be reinventing some movie she watched on the boob tube. There is no reason to believe anything she said.”

He didn’t appreciate my poor attempt at humor, narrowing his sapphire blue eyes at me. “The woman you met is like you. Sarah told me what she saw.”

“Anyone unfortunate enough to be impregnated by one of my distant relatives could be like me.” I rolled my eyes. “It doesn’t mean anything. Think about the dozens of people Sam watches over at any given time. Unless someone lets them in on the family secret and brings them into the supernatural fold, they’ll never know.”

“If anything else happens and you don’t call Caleb, I will.” Chris gave me a reproachful look, taking an extra moment to let it sink in, before he turned away. “Even if it’s just a case of an old woman raving, he has the right to chose if he wants to be here.”

“Deal.”

I exhaled in relief. Nothing else would happen. I would stay put, fly under the radar, and wait until the air cleared.

“Now, since we have that settled.” Chris started rocking again. “Trent can stay in the guest bedroom. Sarah can bunk with you in Caleb’s room. She said Haven has an air mattress over at his place and she’ll swing by tomorrow to pick it up.”

“Are you sure?” I glanced at him and asked, “You don’t mind?”

“This is your home too,” he answered, staring out at the nearly purple sky. “If you want to have guests, they are welcome here.”

“Thank you.” I smiled at his profile and settled back into my chair.

We remained silent, enjoying the serenity offered by the ominous quiet of the night. I don’t know how long we sat together on the porch, watching stars lighting the sky, but for the first time in days, I felt at peace.

Chapter 9—Linen and Honeysuckle

The morning arrived quickly. Too quickly. Trent would arrive after his chartered flight from Scotland landed in Tennessee later in the evening. It was one hell of a long journey that I remembered very well. The first time around had felt longer than my return trip to the States, but then again, the company had been different. I’d been with Trent, a virtual stranger, when I’d gone to meet my parents. When I came home, I was surrounded by those I’d come to trust, including Caleb.

Things were bound to be uncomfortable for Trent. This wasn’t his home, and I was sure he wouldn’t feel entirely welcome. So I decided the least I could do was make sure he had some private space available to retreat, a sanctuary away from the wolves at his door. I didn’t feel guilty about calling him before, but as the time for his arrival approached, I started to. It was wrong of me to ask him to travel so far to protect me, and I planned to apologize for doing so when he arrived. I offered to meet him at the airport, but he insisted he could make it to the Blackney farm without an escort.

The majority of the day was spent cleaning the guest bedroom for him. Unlike most people believed, vampires were perfectly capable of moving around during the day. They didn’t prefer to—they are nocturnal creatures by design—but they were no more incapable of stepping into the rays of the sun than werewolves were to bask in the beams of the moon.

I made sure to clear a large place for Trent in the closet. He was a bit of clotheshorse, entirely spiffy in his multitude of dress shirts, slacks, and of course, trench coats. I asked him once why he wore the blasted things, since vampires didn’t get cold, and he informed me that everyone looked better in a trench coat. I didn’t bother inflating his delicate ego by informing him that he already had all of his bases covered in that department. Although in retrospect, he probably picked the thought easily enough from my mind. I could just imagine the pleasure the flight attendants would receive when he boarded the plane and became their visual eye candy.

After I finished changing the linens and closing the windows I’d opened to air everything out, I came around the corner and strode into Caleb’s room. I had cleared off a spot next to the bed for the mattress we were retrieving from Haven’s cabin. I had offered to take the floor, but Sarah would have none of that. I wanted to make sure she was as comfortable as possible, especially since she wasn’t angry anymore. I think being in a safe zone put her at ease.

I walked to the bookshelf against Caleb’s wall and carefully studied the spines of several John Steinbeck novels in his collection. I knew they were his personal favorites. I pulled out
East of Eden
and allowed the pages to flitter under my thumb before closing the hardback and sliding it back into place.

Caleb’s closet was next to the shelf. I pulled it open and sorted through the shirts and sweatshirts hanging inside. Once I’d chosen a gray sweatshirt from the hanger, I rubbed the soft cotton under my fingers. It was emblazoned with an orange “T” in the center. I grinned. Caleb was a college football fan, and I didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out his team of choice. He was loyal, even when it came to sports.

Snickering, I pulled the material over my head and smoothed it over the white T-shirt I’d put on earlier. It was several sizes too large and fell to the top of my thighs. I pulled the Tennessee logo to my face, inhaled deeply, and frowned at the lack of Caleb’s scent. The sweatshirt smelled like detergent and dryer sheets. I snorted the air from my nose and tried again.

Nothing.

I scurried to his bed and snatched his pillow. Pressing the soft cushion into my face, I breathed in deeply. A bit of his delicious smell lingered, but not nearly enough. We’d been apart for four days, and I all I could think about was when he’d finally be home.

No matter how selfish it made me, I wanted it to be soon. I wanted them to find Sammie and to come home so we could finally start living a normal—well, as normal as we could—life. I could pretend that not having him here didn’t affect me, or that the distance didn’t get to me, but it couldn’t be further from the truth.

Shuffling from the hallway got my attention and I turned in time to see Beverly walking in, carrying a load of freshly laundered sheets. Her blue jeans were baggy, swallowing her whole, as was her tan sweater. The load under her arm was enormous in comparison to her petite frame. She was the tiniest person I'd ever met, barely even reaching my chin. Her sienna brown hair continued to grow, cascading in straight strands past her shoulder blades. It was much longer than the pixie cut she’d gotten after her son retreated from his family to take out his aggressions in a pit full of werewolves that were equally angry and primal.

“I have two sets here,” she said, sorted through the sheets and handed them over. I tossed the pillow to the mattress, took them, and held them out in my upraised hands. “Bring the dirty linens to me when you’re finished.”

I stared down at the fresh sheets and then at Caleb’s pillow which was crumpled in the middle of the comforter. It was silly wanting to keep any part of him lingering around, but while he was gone that was exactly what I intended to do.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized the moment she comprehended my confusion. “I didn’t think, sweetheart.” She took the sheets back, sorted through them, and handed one set over. “These are for Sarah. When you have her bed set, I’ll bring a blanket up.”

“Thanks.” I placed the sheets on top of the bed and turned around, meeting her expectant face.

“Did you return Caleb’s call yet?” she asked and lifted her sky blue gaze to my face. There were still dark puffy circles under her eyes. I knew she wasn't sleeping well since Sammie's disappearance.

“I was just about to.”

I had promised her I would call him hours ago. As much as it killed me, I tried to put off returning his call for as long as possible. I had yet to break the news about our new houseguest since I knew Caleb would not be pleased with me. I wanted to remember his cheery voice instead of his furious one, and I had a bad feeling he might decide to make the trek home anyway, especially with Trent paying a visit.

“Here’s the phone. I brought it up with me, just in case.” She smiled knowingly and I knew I was busted. She and Chris had discussed all of this, I was sure of it, and now it was time to pay the piper.

“Thanks.” I took the phone with a smile while thinking to myself
“you really shouldn’t have
.”

“Just take your time. He told me he would be waiting on your call. I’m surprised he didn’t just call back.” Her smile widened, sweet but insistent. Beverly was extremely protective of her son. She motioned to the phone. “Well, don’t keep him waiting.”

“I’m calling now.” I lifted the long silver cordless into the air.

She waited at the door and I shook my head, somehow refraining from grumbling at her to leave. Pressing the talk button got the job done. She gave me a bright smile and walked out the door. I listened as her light footsteps echoed off the floor as she strolled down the hallway.

I punched in the numbers to Caleb’s cell and walked back to the bookshelf, staring aimlessly at the picture frames on the middle shelf before choosing the one from his senior prom and pulling it off. I ran my thumb over his date’s head, a tall leggy blond with blue eyes—my polar opposite.

“Hello?” The instant his husky lilt hit my ear, a shiver ran down my spine and caused the hair along my nape to stand on end.