On the Far Side of Darkness (29 page)

BOOK: On the Far Side of Darkness
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She smiles at me, leans over to give a quick kiss. “Thanks.” When she pulls back she remarks, “I hope it goes better with my folks though.”

“It shall, I’m sure,” I tell her. I’m certain it’s going to be difficult but she needs reassurance more than wisdom right now.

We watch the crowd for a while, Diane looking at something familiar and with a different perspective than before, me on something new. We make observations, occasionally comment on the desirability of a person as a meal.

Twice we’re approached by people who knew her when she had lived here. The encounters are always short and bittersweet. They knew Diane as a gay girl. The apparent change in status to straight woman is hard for them to handle. I suspect they sense other things have changed as well.

Technically, we’re neither straight, gay, nor any particular gender. She snickers when I whisper that observation in her ear. It fades quickly though and her bleak expression returns.

The band starts up a slow ballad, which gives me an opportunity to salve my beautiful lady’s mood. I stand and extend my hand. “Would the lady give me the honor of this dance?”

Diane smiles broadly, takes my hand and replies, “But of course, kind sir.”

Fingers entwined we go to the dance floor. We wrap our arms around each other and pull close. Our dance doesn’t consist of any particular steps. It’s just soothing movement in time with the music.

The feel of her in my embrace is as it always is, wonderful. She fills me. Her presence drives the darkness deep within me, compresses it to a point where it is hardly noticeable and takes no effort on my part to control. I smile a content smile and lean my head against hers, complete.

Diane reacts the same way. She had been tense when we started dancing. In moments her state is relaxed, calm. She runs her hands over my back, pleasuring herself with the feel of me.

The ballad ends and we step away from each other. “Thank you,” she says to me, her warm smile shaping her features.


De rien
,” I say back. “Your happiness and comfort is more important than mine.” We move back together and share a kiss.

We must hold it longer than we thought for someone remarks, “Get a room.” We break apart and smile at that person. He grins back, gives a thumbs up and continues leading his partner through their dance.

We find our booth taken and our beers gone when we return. Good. We’d been pretending for a little too long. An observant person might have noticed we weren’t actually drinking. We head back to the bar to replace them. I stand a few steps away while Diane goes up to the bar.

At the moment she steps away with our drinks Dwayne emerges from the crowd. When he is arm’s length from my lady he gives that nasty smile. “Hey, brain,” he drawls. “Been a while. Come back looking for something?”

Diane’s face goes cold, her mouth forms a grim line. “I’m back to visit my parents. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“You can’t kid me. You came back looking for a man, a real man.” He puts on an arrogant sneer. “Here I am.”

She blinks at him, and chuckles. “Get real, Dwayne. There’s two problems with that idea. First, I’ve already got a man.” She turns and reaches for me with a smile.

I step up, take her hand and smile at her antagonist. “
Bonsoir
,” I grin at him. There’s a touch of a gloat in my expression.

The hooligan’s mouth drops and his eyes go wide in astonishment.

“The other problem is you’re not a man,” My lover goes on. “Being a man requires traits you can’t even spell.”

His reaction is to turn beet red. A
grimace of fury pulls Dwayne’s lips back and his fists clench.

Before he can act, Diane turns us away and leads us into the press of people. Her hand holds me very tight. A quiet growl comes from her throat.

I lean over and kiss her cheek. “Nicely done,” I tell her. “Have I said lately how much I love your wit?”

That garners me one of her warm smiles. “Not for a couple of hours now.”

“Then consider it done.”

Another booth opens up and we take it. We sit, hands entwined, soaking up the ambiance of this establishment and the emotions of the crowd. It’s a drama people like my love and I cannot participate in, but enjoy watching. One of the biggest dangers of our existence is to wander too far from the world, to only see humans as food. Such a mindset is dangerous. It could alert the mortals to our presence. Although we are much more powerful individually we are greatly outnumbered. On top of that our weaknesses are as detrimental as our powers are advantageous.

The crowd shifts a little, and a woman steps from it in our direction. She’s average in height and build, with brown eyes that contain a great depth. Her chocolate skin is smooth while her hair is short and tightly kinked. A happy smile is fixed on her face and her gaze is on my lady.

Letting go of my hand, my sweetheart rises from our booth. Diane meets the black woman as she arrives at our table. They wrap their arms around each other in a warm hug.

“Ginny!” exclaims my love.

“Hi, Diane.” Her head turns and kisses Diane’s cheek.

She gasps then, and steps back. Her eyes are wide with shock, her mouth slack. She blinks. Her face goes blank while her lips tighten to a thin, fearful line. “N…nice to see you again. I…I can’t stay. See you.” She turns back into the crowd, her steps quick, almost a trot.

I rise and take Diane in my embrace from behind.
This can’t be good
is my thought. Her body is tense. A little noise of pain trembles in her chest.

“Oh crap,” she murmurs. My lovely lady turns her head to whisper in my ear. “We’d better go, Georges. Now. I’ll explain on the way.” She pulls herself from my grip and heads for the front door.

I catch up and we leave
Red’s
.

Once we’re off the porch we’re nearly alone. No one is close enough to hear as Diane speaks in a low voice. “I’d forgotten. Ginny’s grandmother and mother had…a reputation. People went to them for help, for advice about the future, or to find out about things in the past. They were usually right. Ginny didn’t have that reputation.” There’s a pause and I can see her searching for words. “But Ginny was, insightful. I think she knows, Georges.”

“That’s not good,” I remark. “This is your world,
cheri
. What should we do?”

My lover’s shoulders hunch. She knows, and understands, that humans shouldn’t know about us. She doesn’t want to do what our people usually do to mortals who do know.

“Let’s find her,” she says. “We can decide then.”

“We’ve found her,” I tell her. We’re approaching our vehicle and a person is sitting on the back bumper.

Ginny rises as we draw close. Her face is pensive, a touch of fear shows in her eyes. She leans forward just a little with her arms pressed tightly to her sides, bracing herself for what is to come.

Diane and I walk until we’re a couple of steps away. We check as we go, making sure that there are no witnesses, if we have to do what we have to do. We reach for one another and interlace our fingers. I’m struck yet again how much we depend on one another for strength.

Diane’s friend watches. As we take one another’s hands the fear in her features fades a little. Her mouth smiles, just a bit. Her eyes gain that puzzled look that is becoming familiar.

“Hi, Ginny,” Diane says then.

“Hello, Diane,” returns her friend. The black woman’s tone is flat, none of the emotion in her shows in her voice. “That is, if you are Diane.”

“I am,” my love tells her. “Changed a little, but still me.”

Ginny’s face frowns for a second as she tries to match what Diane has told her and what she’s learned about us. “I’m not sure. It was a joy reading you back when. You were so bright, so sharp. Something’s gone now. Something else has been added, and it’s dark, very dark. You look and sound like Diane. But you don’t feel much like her now.”

My love squeezes my hand very hard but I ignore the pain. Stepping behind her I wrap my free arm around her. She needs me, I know.

“What happened?” asks Ginny then.

“I fell in love,” Diane’s answers. The hand not holding me comes up and grips my forearm. I can feel tension leave her as she does. “Georges asked me to stay with him. I accepted. It was my choice. I’m very happy I did.”

Ginny brow furrows in confusion, pulls her head back a little. “Can something like you fall in love?”

A quick flash of anger shoots through me. Diane strains against my embrace for a moment. Neither of us likes to be judged. I push down that emotion. She relaxes as well.

“We feel everything you feel, Ginny. Love, happiness, pain, grief.” Diane trembles for a moment. “The only real differences are physical. You should know how little those matter.”

The other woman nods after a second. Much of the fear fades from her face. “I suppose,” she remarks.

Diane lets go of me, spreads her arms and steps forward.

But her friend recoils and steps back. “I, I’m sorry,” she says. “You’re not the person I knew. I can’t.”

My love slumps and I wrap her in my arms again. Her hands come up, cover her chest in a gesture to protect her from the cold. She huddles against me.

Ginny turns, takes a step away. Pausing then, her head swivels to us. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep your secret. I saw a lot of your ways when I touched you. Understandable because I have to do much the same. I know how people are about different.” She rolls her eyes. “And I just showed I’m not much better.” She refocuses her gaze to continue. “I’ll say nothing. Who’d believe me? How would I explain I know what you are from reading your soul?”

I turn my head a little to look at my love and she does the same. A very small nod of confirmation answers my unspoken question.

Diane turns back to her former friend to reply, “Okay, Ginny.” Her voice is clipped, the tones rather formal. “I trust you. I’ve never doubted your honesty. Sorry things turned out the way they did.”

“Me too. Good bye, Diane.” She walks away not looking back.

My lady watches, staying very still. She remains that way for a minute, long after her lost friend has vanished from sight. Then she shakes herself, steps out of my arms. “We’d better go, love,” she says. “It’s getting early.” She gives a quick smile that vanishes into misery.

We re-enter our vehicle and start out of the lot.

“Do you want to get to your family tonight?” I ask her.

Diane ponders for a moment. “No,” she decides, “I wouldn’t want to wake them up. Let’s head to that campground a few miles back.”


D’accord
,” I agree. We can sleep there and arrive at her parents early tomorrow night.

We’re about halfway to our destination when I notice another vehicle appear in the rear view mirror. A pickup truck, moving fast. The echo of several men giving those infamous ‘Rebel Yells’ comes to me. Our pursuer quickly overtakes us and pulls up on Diane’s side, disappearing from my view.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” she growls.

“What?”

“It’s Dwayne and his buddies. I’ve got a shotgun pointed at me. They’re signaling me to follow them.”

“Oh let’s,” I tell her. “This might be fun.”

Her eyes dart to me and she grins. “It might at that.” The wide smile vanishes and she sets her jaw. It’s only the second time she’s been in conflict since her change. That time wasn’t as serious as this one. I can see she’s rather nervous about it.

The pickup pulls in front. There are three men in the bed. The one with the shotgun keeps it on her. Another points a pistol at me. The third man, the one who spit, lounges sitting against the cab, a baseball bat across his knees.

After a couple of minutes driving, the other vehicle pulls onto a lane and shortly after that leads us into a field. They halt so that their vehicle is perpendicular to the nose of our RV and about five car lengths away. The men in the back jump to the ground and bring their weapons to bear once more. Dwayne climbs from the driver’s seat and the last man, the one in the passenger seat. comes into view. They gather in a loose line a step or two from their pickup.

“Come on out, darlin’,” drawls the big man. “We got some things to talk about.”

Diane turns off the engine but leaves the headlights on. We exit our vehicle and move to the front of it as our assailant’s commanded. The man with the shotgun comes forward, stands to my right, covering us both.

“Come ‘ere,” Dwayne directs my lady, curling a finger at her. “We want to make sure that man of yours gets a good view.”

She steps forward with a relaxed gait. I can see she’s not the least bit concerned with what’s about to happen. The four men by the truck watch her approach.

I turn my face to the man covering me. He smiles back. I can see he’s anxious for me to give him an excuse to pull the trigger. So I gaze into his eyes, bury his will in mine. His face slackens. “Don’t move a muscle or make a sound,” I order a low voice. With a nod of my head in Diane’s direction I order him to watch. When I let him go, he does as he’s told. A quivering of his lips and the terror in his eyes show how alarmed he is at his sudden helplessness.

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