Eclipsed by Midnight (16 page)

“Come on, Erik!” I whine and drape myself across the back of his broad shoulders straining through his fitted dress shirt, planting a kiss of persuasion on his cheek. His coppery lemon scent, while not as offensive as it once was, still manages to turn my stomach. Maybe my response is one of those nature things for siblings.

“Nintuah, I told you I am not in the mood.” He stops mid-chew, burrito hanging out of his mouth quite rudely as he grumbles and swipes his tongue across his lip while eyeing me suspiciously. “Is this why you bribed me with my favorite breakfast?” His eyes track me as I come around the dining table to take my seat.

“Hey, I even made that green chili from scratch. You’ve been down in the dumps and I almost died again. Boss man is tied up with some shit he won’t tell me about and this is the first day in the last three that I could actually get out of bed. Let’s go out and have some fun.” That was some weird juju I absorbed, and it took forever to settle down inside.

“I am not feeling festive.” He dives back into his food with gusto, caring nothing of manners.

“But we need to celebrate. The boys don’t want to leave the theater downstairs, so we have the whole evening to ourselves.” My poor boys, any day now the transition will start. I can taste it, and it scares the ever-loving shit out of me. We need to get out tonight so I can blow off some steam.

“Celebrate what? Marguerite’s gone and you almost got yourself killed—again.” I barely understood that between his mouthfuls of food.

“Key word, almost. And that just means you are single, again, and I’m like the baddest vamp bitch ever now. Come on—please? Pretty, pretty please? My best friend is still out of the country on her last hoorah trip with her dying husband, and I have no other friends. It’s pathetic really. See, you’d be doing me a charity or some crap.” My cherry-red lips pout as I eye fuck all the food on the table, trying to decide where to start.

For the first time in a week, he smiles. “Well, I do love a good charity case. You sure you don’t need more recovery time?” His worry radiates off him in a way only a big brother can manage.

“Oddly, no. A few days of comatose-like sleep and I feel fantastic, like nothing happened. I’m not completely sure anything really did change. It’s weird, but hey, who am I to question a good thing?” Once that shit settled into my system, everything seemed status quo.

“You promise to protect me should evil be afoot?” he jokes and upends a large glass of lemonade, making me gag again.

“I got you, boo. Now, let’s go get all dolled up!” I squeal, happy to finally have a stress-free night out with my buddy who needed major cheering up. He still won’t tell me why he dumped Marguerite, but with enough alcohol, I plan to get him to tell me and vent it all out. It isn’t healthy to keep shit all bottled up. I’m not going to lie, an evening free of Etienne sounds good too. Something is up with him. He’s acting weird. There’s been enough weird going on to last a lifetime. Pretty sure we’ve already reached a quota or something. He doesn’t need to go off and add to it.

∞

Perching on a barstool in my black, bandage-wrap dress, I edge a round of shots toward Erik as the crowds around us grow by the second, packing us in like sardines. This bar on 17th was an old favorite, just a ways from the heart of downtown but close enough to breathe the same vibe.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” Erik asks before tipping back two of the shots in one go.

“Yup, ya know, cause I want to take advantage of you.” I snort and eye one of the tiny glasses, trying to decide if I want one.

“You wouldn’t need drinks to do that. I’m pretty easy. You can let that get out if you want.” He winks and visually gets acquainted with a few chicks that walk by with wisps of fabric they call clothes.

“So I’ve heard. I can go write your phone number on the bathroom wall if you want.” Seriously, I just may have to do that.

“Nah, it adorns too many bathroom walls as it is.” His face falls.

I push a few more shots his way, patiently waiting to strike. He takes them down quick as his sullen state grows. Perfect. “Is that why you kicked a certain female to the side, to resume your whore-ish ways?” I tease and bat my eyes at him.

“Correction, not a whore. I am a sexual humanitarian.” His eyes spark in humor before he pointedly ignores me, not wanting to talk anymore. When I push the last two shots of vodka toward him with an eager and hopeful face, he slams them quickly. “Fine, she wanted more and I don’t want to settle down.” He is definitely holding back on something.

“Oh, really, it was that simple?” My brow rises, seeing right through him. The color of his aura is all off.

“I’m too pretty to be tied to one gal for too long.”

“You are the prettiest fanger I know, no doubt. You didn’t seem to mind the last few months. Never seemed bothered by having a ball and chain.” Shit, he was utterly smitten with her.

“No, she wanted to settle all the way down, young and everything. Got all emotional on her moon and being a sea away for the fall festivities. She was cool, but I didn’t have feelings like that.”

“So you got scared and ran?” The ripple in his aura tells me I just hit a nerve.

His eyes slightly change as his gaze narrows sadistically. “I don’t run. I didn’t see the point of stringing her along.” He leans back, eerily calm and guarded.

“Hmmm. Alright then. I’m going to grab a drink.” Easing from the stool, I leave him hanging in his mood and head to the bar. I mull over the drink possibilities, but nothing sounds even mildly appealing.

“What can I get you, darling?” The cute bartender winks at me. Funny, I could be his mom. He barely looked legal to be working in the bar.

“I’ll take a vodka tonic—” My words are cut short by a sudden, forceful kick in my gut. Bracing against the bar while clutching my stomach, I struggle to catch my breath while the kid stares at me funny. “Never mind, make that a ginger ale.” I laugh it off, still shaken internally, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. My mind races as I grab the glass out of his hand before it even touches the bar top and teeter back on shaken legs to the table. I seriously just had a mini vasovagal reaction to whatever in the fuck happened to my stomach. Trying to steady my clammy, tremulous hand, I set the glass down next to Erik and gingerly take my seat.

“You alright?”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t look like he believes me. Well buddy, that makes two of us.

“If you think fireballs of death are going to start randomly shooting out of your eyes, could you give me a heads-up? Room full of humans and all.” He sips a new mixed drink that smells like heaven.

“I think we are good on that front. What’s that?” My chin lifts to his cup.

“Sang de la terre—it’s a vamp special.”

“How’d you manage that?” I snatch the bar napkin out from under my drink and pat my brow, almost groaning at the ice cold temperature of the escaped condensation it had wicked up moments before.

“This? You just have to know who to ask. The owner is one of us. He keeps it brewed up in the back this time of year. Apparently, you can only make it in the fall—something about the herbs they use.” Taking a deep inhale, I catch the intoxicating citrus and blended spice, which makes my fangs tingle in delight.

“How do I get one?” My stomach turns a little, but the darker part of my nature tells it to kick rocks.

“You don’t hold your liquor well as it is. This is extremely more potent to our kind.”

“Are you trying to say that I am a bad drunk?” I say, defensively bringing my hand up to my chest.

“You, Nintuah, are a mouthy drunk. Don’t feel like breaking up any fights.” He chuckles and waves over one of the waitresses. The young woman all but bounds up. He clouds her and orders another round before sending her on her way.

“Why do you have to cloud them for the order?” My head tilts to the side.

“Because they can’t know we are different and fetching special drinks they don’t normally serve might raise suspicion.” He minutely shakes his head.

“Okay, well, it wasn’t that obvious,” I glib.

“No, it kinda was.” He chuckles at me as waitress arrives with a tray full of the miraculous drinks, fizzing away.

“Ambitious, much?” My brow arches.

He shrugs his shoulders indifferently as the bubbling blonde leaves us, but not before casting one last, longing glance Erik’s way. Taking my pick from the litter of glasses now set in the middle, I take a quick sip. Flavor, spice and herbs, light up my senses, heightening some and dulling others in a perfect blend. Blood orange, lemon balm, cayenne pepper, cinnamon, and few other flavors roll over my tongue. There’s also a berry and wild flower essence that are not familiar to me peeking through. Whatever it is, it is divine. When I take another sip, my shoulders relax. An effect that usually takes half a bottle of vodka. And since my stomach doesn’t protest, I keep sipping as we people watch, lost in our perspective thoughts.

“What do we have here?” A loud, heavily accented baritone voice cuts through our respective buzzes. Niall’s stocky but muscular frame pushes past a group of college students before making its way up to us. “Gettin’ started without me?” He palms up a glass and takes a swig before grinning at us with his perfect smile.

“If I waited around for you, I’d never get to drink.” Erik grunts and grabs a second glass.

“Ooh, Sang de la terre, I’ve been waiting all year for this.” Gabriel’s towering frame appears out of nowhere and makes for the table.

“Jesus, I take my brother-from-another-mother out for a drink and am flanked by a cockfest.” I take the orange slice off the rim of my empty glass and chuck it at Erik, who swats it away, midair, without removing his eyes from the dance floor now forming in the middle of the bar.

The air begins to shift and thicken as more vampires seem to appear as the humans thin by half, like a sudden magic trick played by the owner of the joint, an undetected slide of hand.

“Speaking of, I see a brunette who needs my attention.” Erik downs the rest of his glass and makes for the dance floor, shamelessly palming up said chick’s ass in a surprise attack. Recognition finally registers on her face as she melts into him. What am I going to do with him?

“So, me wee lass, what brings ye out ta a spot like this?” Niall attempts to make some form of conversation with me.

“You don’t need to try so hard, Niall, we are good,” I remind him and move to kiss his cheek in affection. His dimples deepen and his jovial mood kicks up a notch, happy to have the air cleared after his last mouthy slip up.

“Where’s mine?” Gabriel jokes. I pull him down to my level by his collar and plant one on his cheek too. Laughter fills the air and years seem to jump off me, surrounded by my family.

“Now, what seems to bring you two out?” Gabriel and Niall hold up their glasses in answer. Nodding in approval, I grab another of the full ones, happy to partake.

“How are you doing being so far away from your girl?” I ask Gabriel.

“It’s rough, but she’ll be coming out for the winter solstice.”

“You gonna put a ring on it?” I hiccup and set my drink back down, eyeing it suspiciously, thinking I might have just hit a special kind of limit. Damn, that liquor is quick.

“I’m not rushing into that rejection again.” He holds his hand up as the other lifts the drink back to his lips.

“No need ta, rush it. Thank the Lord, time be on yer side,” Niall mumbles, lost in his own thoughts.

“Meh, I feel ready to settle down. It’s been a couple of hundred years coming.” Gabriel sighs as he takes up Erik’s stool. Shades of blue shimmer around him, his color grid sparkling with intensity. He really does want to ask her but is afraid. Can’t say that I blame him.

“Yeah, ol’ man, it might be about time.” I elbow his gut, trying to ease his tumultuous thoughts.

“How’s yer mom?” Niall sucker punches me out of nowhere, darkening the mood in a moment. Just because he and I have found common ground doesn’t mean I am ready to talk about my mom with him.

“Niall, she’s good. She’s been happily married to my stepdad since I was a little girl. Please, let’s not go there,” I warn. Like a dog tucking his tail between his legs, he puts his head down and takes a seat. “Would you look at that? My song just came on,” I lie and get up on a pair of high heels that takes a minute to remember how to work before heading to the middle of the dance floor.

Bodies move like beautiful music around me as the beats deepen, seeping into my soul and taking over my being. Transcending all troubles, my body flows with the music as I become consumed in my own little world. My metaphorical wings spread as joy overtakes my heart, happy to be brought front and center. Eyes fall on me periodically, but I ignore them. I don’t care if I look like an absolute fool dancing with this much enthusiasm all by myself, squished between too many sweaty bodies. Something that feels this good can’t ever be that bad. After being lost in the moment for a few songs, Gabriel approaches me on the floor.

“Sash, it’s time to go.” My stricken face hits him hard, and he recoils a bit. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not my call.” His firm hand comes to rest on the small of my back.

“I’m not ready to go.” I glower. Erick comes up from behind and wraps my arm around his.