21 Shades of Night, page 142
“What are you doing?” I shouted. My father was soaked. “Go inside and get dry, you’ll catch your death out here!”
“Nadya, I’m fine. Mr. Caldwell needs assistance.”
“Bullsh—“ I stopped myself from cursing in front of him. “He landed that plane. He can come in alone.”
“He’s hurt.”
I spun and looked inside the cockpit. Liam sat in the seat with a huge gash on his forehead and a busted lip. His head slumped against the headrest. “Is he conscious?” I asked, looking between the men. Brayden shrugged in reply. “How the hell did he land the plane?”
Again neither man spoke, and I realized I had little choice but to take control. “Pop, get in the hangar. Brayden, carry Liam to the maintenance office and put him on the couch.”
Brayden sprang into action and I followed my father into the cavernous hangar. I was thoroughly drenched by this point, my hair plastered against my cheeks and forehead. My jeans stuck to my legs like glue and my black Nomad Airlines polo shirt hung heavily down my sides.
I grabbed the first aid kit off the wall and met the others in the office. “We should call an ambulance,” I said, but my father shook his head.
“No. He wouldn’t want that.”
I looked at the unconscious man on the yellowing couch. “Doesn’t look like he gets much of a say in the matter.”
“Nadya, trust me. Patch him up, he’ll be okay. But no ambulance.”
“Pop!”
He fixed me with a stern eye. “Nadya.”
“Fine.” I sighed, waving my hand toward the break room. “Get me an ice pack.”
I opened up the first aid kit and took out some disinfectant wipes. Leaning over, I dabbed them on Liam’s forehead, wiping the blood off the cut. The wound had swollen, jagged edges. Thankfully, it wasn’t bleeding too heavily. I moved to his face and cleaned his lip, which was more puffy than bloody.
Brayden came back with the ice pack and I laid it on his forehead, wondering how long it would be before he woke up. Once everything seemed under control, Pop and Brayden left me to watch him alone to go check on the plane.
“This is ridiculous,” I muttered to his unmoving body. “I’m not a nurse or a doctor.”
I glanced at the clock on the wall and determined if he didn’t wake up in fifteen minutes I was calling an ambulance.
“Crap,” I said, jumping into action again. Blood seeped through his shirt from an injury I’d missed before. I lifted the hem, noticing, even in his current condition, how defined his body was. Who was this guy and why did he have the body of a professional athlete? I exposed his entire stomach and chest to examine the wound. Blood oozed like the other one, but this one was bad; the flesh was mangled. There was no way he’d survive that injury without medical attention. “Dear God, Liam. What happened?”
My knuckles grazed the taut skin on his belly I stopped cold. I saw a flash—a vision, of someone or something attacking Liam. Long blades sliced at his flesh and a huge fist cracked into his face. The image flickered, gone as fast as I’d seen it.
I walked out of the office and dialed 911.
“911—What is your emergency?”
“I’m at the airport on Stratton Road. We need an ambulance.”
“Can you describe the problem?”
I looked over my shoulder and back into the office. To my surprise the couch was empty. I stepped through the doorway. The entire room was empty. Nothing remained but the first aid kit on the floor and the ice pack lying on the arm rest. Bloody footsteps crossed the room but disappeared under a small window. I raced over and looked outside. Nothing but rain and wind.
What the hell?
“Ma’am?” the woman asked on the other side of the phone.
I opened my mouth but nothing came out. Liam Caldwell was gone.
* * *
I LIED TO the 911 operator. I lied to my father and Brayden and Daniel and Colleen. I told them all that everything was fine. That Mr. Caldwell wasn’t as injured as he looked and that he left through the side door. Nothing to worry about.
I don’t know where the words came from, or why I felt this…compulsion to cover Liam Caldwell’s tracks, because that surely was what I was doing. The evidence was in the bloody rags I threw in the dumpster behind the hangar.
Colleen gave me a side-eye that said she had a lot of questions. My father, on the other hand, was decidedly unconcerned, which definitely made me suspicious. I knew he wouldn’t tell me anything, so I wiped up the blood and put away the first aid kit before driving home in the unrelenting rain. I climbed into bed, ready to be done with this day.
My room was the same one I’d lived in since I was three and my parents moved in this home. The walls were no longer lavender and my bed covers weren’t pink. When I turned eighteen and realized I wouldn’t be leaving the house anytime soon, I painted the room slate gray. Brown and blues accented the décor. I was determined to have the room of a grown-up, despite the location.
My room should have comforted me, but sadness cloaked every inch of our home. We should have moved when my mother died, but my father seemed to want, or need, to wallow in the past, living among the ghosts of her flower printed wallpaper and framed family photographs above the fireplace. My father gave up his family for my mother and then he lost her. I knew this was the reason for his protectiveness for me. He had no intention of losing me as well.
I’d have liked to say the thunder kept me awake, but the image of Liam’s plane weaving erratically down the runway kept replaying in my mind. The vision I’d had lingered like a hazy memory. Perhaps I made it up. The wounds on his body implied I didn’t. I tossed and turned, staring at the cracked plaster ceiling. Maybe if I hadn’t spent the last several weeks stalking him I wouldn’t have cared that much. But I did care. I wanted to know if he was okay.
Or whether maybe I was just going crazy.
The questions finally got the best of me and I tossed on some clothes and ran into the wet night for my car. The rain still came down in heavy sheets as I drove through the city, dressed only in yoga pants and a hoodie. Did I have a plan? No, but I knew where Liam lived, so what the hell. It was like the events of the evening broke down any rationale or decorum.
I was owed an answer. Or at least that’s what I told myself as I hung out the window of my still running car and rang the buzzer on his monstrous gate. The red camera lights blinked down on me like God.
“Mr. Caldwell,” I yelled through the pounding rain. “It’s Nadya. I came to check on you.”
Unsure if anyone heard my plea, I reached out to press the buzzer again. Before I could do so the gate swung slowly backwards, as if offering a reluctant invitation. Summoning my courage, I put my foot on the gas and drove down through the entrance.
* * *
AN OLDER WOMAN waited on the front steps of the house with a large black umbrella. She walked to the driver’s side and waited for me to exit the car. “I’m so sorry,” I apologized. “I didn’t expect someone to be out here. I was just worried about Mr. Caldwell and—“
“No worries, dear,” she replied. “This is part of my job description. Let’s get inside before we’re both swept away.”
The hem of my pants dragged through the rain as she rushed us inside the arched wooden door. I stared at the opulence around me, the massive chandelier to the wavy leaded-glass windows. I waited as she shook out the umbrella and pointed to a spot to place my shoes. “This way,” she said, taking off down the hallway at a brisk pace. Like a drowned, barefoot rat, I shivered and followed her.
“Is he all right?” I asked.
She didn’t reply, instead stopping at the open double doors of a great room—no, I thought, spotting the rows and rows of books. A library. Finer than the one we had in town. I felt the dry heat of the roaring fire. Taking a moment to make sure no one was watching me, I pinched the tender flesh on the inside of my arm. Motherfu— okay. I was definitely awake.
“Following me again?” I heard, over the rustle of newspaper. He stood and tossed the paper into fire, igniting a flash of bright flames. Liam Caldwell’s frame appeared hulking in the flickering light. The t-shirt he wore accentuated muscles I did not know existed until earlier that day, the ones normally hidden by his conservative daily outfit.
“I…”
“I guess I understand,” he said, cutting me off. His eyes gleamed green and shiny—clearly a reflection from the fire, but something about it left me unnerved. “I left the airport quite abruptly.”
The shadows of the room kept most of his face dark and for a brief moment I was afraid—no, terrified. But I drove here by myself—no one forced me. I swallowed my fear and asked, “Are you okay?”
From my spot in the doorway I couldn’t make out the injury on his face. Curious, I took a tentative step into the room.
“I’m fine. Looked worse before I cleaned myself up. There’s no need for concern.”
Something across the room caught my eye—a painting. The colors dull with age, but it looked familiar, like I’d seen it in a book. That’s when I noticed the shelves, not the ones lined with books, but the ones filled with artwork and trinkets. Small statues and framed photographs. Everything had the feel of age but seemed well cared for. Not a speck of dust lingered in the air. And even though I’d never experienced it myself, I could sense great wealth in every object in the room.
“Do you like art?” he asked, breaking me from my thoughts.
“Sure, I guess,” I replied. “I don’t know much about it though.” I pointed to the one I’d noticed first. “That one looks familiar; where have I seen it before?”
He looked at the painting, studying it almost. “I don’t know. It’s been in my family for generations.”
Maybe that was where all this wealth came from: family.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, eyeing the painting once again. Bold, heavy strokes created the impression of a watery landscape. Liam didn’t respond, but looked expectant—like someone waiting for an unannounced guest to leave. “Okay, well, if you’re all right, then I guess I should go.”
Liam offered me a tight smile. “Let me walk you to the door.”
He passed me and entered the hallway, and escorting me back the way I came. The house was silent, no sign of the woman that escorted me the first time. When we reached the foyer he paused. “As much as I appreciate your concern, please do not follow me again, Nadya. It isn’t safe.”
“Safe? What do you mean?” From our close proximity I could see that the injury on his face had fully healed. I dropped my eyes to his chest, but there was no evidence of a bandage under his thin shirt. Without thinking I reached forward, more curious than I’d ever been, but he stepped deftly away and my hand grasped nothing but air.
“Goodnight,” he said, opening the door. The rain had finally passed and I stepped out into the muggy night. I turned to say goodbye, but instead heard the loud snap of the solid wood door as it closed in my face.
Chapter 2
Liam
THE HOUSE REEKED of wet hair and nerves long after she left. I watched her , navigate the driveway and front gate on the security monitor, but it wasn’t enough to satiate my curious nature. I’d kept away from Nadya for many years—as instructed. But now? She had been the one to cross the well-maintained truce established between our families.
I left through the kitchen and took the stairs down to the garage. I picked a car different from the one I normally drive to the airport—something less noticeable than my antique Chevy. The truck was made in this century and looked common enough. She wouldn’t notice. I would make sure of it.
“Liam,” I heard my name from the bottom of the stairs. “Do you think this is wise?”
“No,” I replied, opening the door. I flashed Helen a bright smile. “Since when has that ever stopped me?”
“Be careful, you’re playing with a fire that could burn us all if you don’t watch yourself.”
I slammed the door and revved the engine. Careful wasn’t something in my vocabulary, but fire? I liked it very much.
* * *
NADYA WAS RUSHING from her car to the house when I caught up to her. I knew she lived here, of course, but I hadn’t been here since that day so many years ago, when her father and I made our first arrangements. He’d done everything to protect her and I respected that, but her arrival at my house tonight stirred up basic instincts I’d managed to suppress for a long time.
She entered the wooden clapboard house quietly; the only light visible was upstairs in her bedroom. Her movements created shadows on the curtains and I exited my car, moving to that side of the house.
The lingering effects of the rainstorm caused a steady drip from house gutters, but otherwise the street had a silence that came only at night, when the majority of the world was asleep.
I stared up at her window until the light flicked off and then for a while longer. I couldn’t help but wonder what her room looked like—if it still had a childish motif. My sixth-sense told me that her father clung to the past like a child to a blanket. A false sense of security from things that go bump in the night. Real things that tore his family apart. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to hold onto better times.
Mr. Tolbert’s arrival drove me from my spot perched on the wall between her house and the neighbors. Dimmed lights flashed down the driveway, pushing me further into the darkness. I retreated to my car. Coming here had been foolish and Ms. Graves was right, I shouldn’t do it again.
* * *
MY ROLE IN Nadya’s life had always been the same. Above everything else I had been assigned as her protector. My position came from birthright and demanded that I act as a guardian to all of our kind, but beneath that universal role was a stronger connection with Nadya. She and I were bound by our bloodlines and the symbiotic nature of our existence. Without the other—we simply did not exist.
As parasites, our people fed off one another and occasionally, according to legend, a perfect match like ours existed. I should feed directly from Nadya, but because of our truce, due to the unfortunate death of her mother, I agreed to stay away from her. I told her father years before that he could attempt to keep the distance between us, but as a human, he didn’t comprehend the intensity of our bond. Regardless of rules and agreements, Nadya would eventually crave me too.
Her recent interest confirmed her primal desire for me and now the flimsy barrier established between us had a fissure, gaping and jagged. I won’t pretend the idea didn’t fill me with excitement. I was exhausted from staying away from her. In the grand scheme of our world, she was rightfully mine.
“Hopefully,” I said, wiping the back of my mouth with a handkerchief, “This will be the last inferior feeding I must endure.”
The woman lounged across the leather couch gazed at me with clouded eyes. Her face appeared drained and tired. She tasted fine, I supposed, but she never quite diminished my hunger. Sidhe guards required regular feeding from other Sidhe and in a normal situation this girl would be enough. But the bond made things different. The only one that could satiate my particular craving was my mate.
“Is that really necessary?” Ms. Graves asked, taking the soiled handkerchief. We took nourishment from the blood or, for back of better human term, their essence. Pure energy gave me strength. “This waif made herself available to you, at the very least you could show your appreciation.”
I turned and bowed to the girl addled in a drugged out bliss. “Thank you for your services. Ms. Graves shall compensate you accordingly.”
My companion rolled her eyes but shut the door behind us so the girl could have time to sort herself out. Alone Ms. Graves said, “I wouldn’t dismiss her just yet. Again, you’re playing a dangerous game. Do you not recall the terms of your agreement with Nadya’s father?”
“Of course I do. I drafted them. I am not to engage her in any way other than protective services. I shall not touch a hair on her head or taste a drop of her blood. In return, he allows me to use his airport to come and go to do my businesses.” I scoffed at the idea. “As if he has much choice. Every one of those creatures I capture and destroy seeks Nadya’s blood as much as I do. They just want it on their hands.”
“So what makes you think he will relent?”
I smiled at the woman who had stood by my side for the last fifty years and who had counseled my father before that. “Nature will take its course, Ms. Graves, regardless of treaties and truces. Nadya will figure all of this out soon. It’s in her blood. When she does, I’ll be here waiting.”
Chapter 3
Nadya
THREE DAYS PASSED, during which nothing extraordinary happened. No plane crashes. No injured pilots. Just the typical take-off and landings that occur on a standard day at Nomad Airlines. I stayed in my bed at night, restless, consumed by odd dreams of my mother but other than that everything was normal.
In fact it was absolutely boring.
Two things got me through the day. The first was trying to get information from my father about Liam Caldwell. The second was the idea of seeing Liam Caldwell again. It wasn’t unusual for him to miss several days in a row at the airport, but I knew he’d return. He always did.
“Have you heard from Mr. Caldwell?” I asked Pop one afternoon. I had cornered him in the back office while filing maintenance reports. He’d been acting weird since the accident on the runway, and I was tired of tip-toeing around it. “You know, about his injuries? He’s not planning on holding us responsible or anything, is he?”
“No, he won’t do that.”
“Why not? Has he even filled out an accident report?”
