Chapter 17 #2
Maya should have known this would happen. That Harper would want answers, demand answers. Anything less than honesty, and the tiny bridge that had been erected by her seeking Maya out would collapse.
“Nothing about what we did was pretend,” Maya said. “Whenever I was with you, I forgot why I was there. I didn’t lie, I just… Some things I couldn’t share. I never hid anything about myself.”
“Except for the fact that you aren’t human.”
The words might as well have been delivered with a hammer. The pain that followed started out dull, but quickly grew to the point where Maya had to lower her eyes just to keep it from turning agonizing.
“Yeah. Except that.”
That was an awful truth no amount of talking could dismantle. The connection they’d built rested on a bed of lies. It didn’t matter that Maya had just been following orders. She had still lied about so many things, and while she could easily tell where they ended, Harper had no idea.
If only she hadn’t been alone in St. Louis.
If Diana had been there, she could have corroborated everything.
Hell, if Maya was the one who got thrown off this job, that would have been better.
If Harper’s only memory of her was that first encounter in the parking lot… maybe this could have been fixed.
Then, Harper’s gaze softened. Slowly shifting from icy to curious.
“Shouldn’t you, like… have burned or something?”
Maya blinked. Then frowned. Then, thinking she must have misheard, opened and closed her mouth until she finally found her voice.
“What?”
“You’re a vampire, right? They burn under the sun. Or sparkle, according to some pieces of media.”
That cut off her voice all over again. She had not seen that coming. Not with how stern Harper’s tone had just been. Or with the many nervous glances being pointed their way, all of which were so blatant that it was baffling Harper hadn’t noticed them.
Maybe she had. And she just didn’t care.
“Are you saying you don’t know?” Maya said, confusion making her voice slow. “Evie didn’t tell you?”
“She told me a lot of things. Including some stuff about you. But she also admitted that most of it was based on rumors, so… I told her I didn’t want to hear it.”
Harper uncrossed her arms, putting her elbows on the bar. “What I did hear didn’t sound like the person I’ve gotten to know these past few weeks. I want to know, but I want to know the truth. I was hoping you would give it to me.”
This was a level of grace Maya had forgotten was possible. Since her life was stolen, people had regarded her with either awe, fear, or just plain suspicion. Understandable reactions, given that she wasn’t supposed to exist.
Harper just wanted honesty. And that price should be easy to pay, but Maya couldn’t make the words come out. There was far too much to go through, all of it painful, all of it frightening.
If she started sharing, she would have to share all of it. Terrifying events, filled with bloodshed and cries for mercy, either coming from her own lips or from the people she had been ripping apart.
Her past was a dreadful horror. One she felt like cowering from every time she thought of it. If that was her reaction, she could only imagine how much worse someone else would respond.
“I don’t want to tell you.” Maya dug her nails into the bar top until she was sure her voice wouldn’t waver.
“I’m not like anyone else. Unlike other vampires, the sun doesn’t hurt me, for some reason.
But I didn’t choose to be like this. Becoming it was hell, and if I had any choice in the matter, I wouldn’t have survived.
And I don’t want you to know about any of it. ”
“Why not?”
“Because when people learn about it, they get scared of me. And I don’t want you to be scared of me.”
It wasn’t what Harper wanted to hear. Or what she deserved. She was owed answers, had even given Maya a chance to offer them herself, but how was she supposed to explain something she didn’t understand? That no one understood?
Even if this returned the anger to Harper’s eyes, having her storm off would be better than having her run away. Between being feared and being hated, Maya found that she preferred the second option.
But Harper didn’t leave. Instead, her eyes softened again.
“Well… Are you going to hurt me?”
Maya immediately shook her head. “No. Of course not.”
A slight smile appeared on Harper’s face. The kind she usually filled with tease, putting it on as a prelude to some goading comment.
Now, it contained only a hint of that attitude.
“Then why would I be scared of you?” She pushed her hair behind her ear, shrugging.
“I won’t lie and say I’m not curious. I’d obviously like to know.
But I want to know the real deal. If I’m going to hear your story, I want to hear it from you rather than someone else.
Until you’re ready to tell me… I don’t mind not knowing. ”
Maya’s mouth dropped open again. “You’re serious.”
The hint of tease in Harper’s smile blossomed.
“You know me. I love being serious.” She pushed aside Angela’s abandoned glass. “And I also love chatting up pretty bartenders in exchange for free drinks. I’m good at it, too. I’ve gotten a lot of practice lately.”
It took a moment for the words to make sense. The scene was so familiar that it felt like Maya had blinked and been transported right back to St. Louis, sporadically making drinks while spending most of her shift talking to the smiling woman sitting across from her now.
The only difference was that this place was livelier, and Harper was wearing day clothes rather than a silk robe. One she kept accidentally opening, as though fishing for Maya to blush, take a peek, or both.
It had been hard to rest in, knowing it had an end date when the fantasy of it all would unravel. But that was gone now. In its absence, she couldn’t help but smile.
“Then you’re in luck. It’s a slow night, so you have my undivided attention.” She picked up a clean glass. “Let me guess… an ice water with lemon?”
The attitude momentarily vanished from Harper’s expression, delight replacing it.
“Good guess. And keep them coming. I have a feeling I’ll be here for a while.”
This evening hadn’t at all turned out as expected. Harper had planned an entire speech before going to the high-rise—something she had never done before. When she knew a fight was inbound, she favored improvisation, letting her tongue spew out whatever venom it wanted.
But Maya was different. The simmering anger of the past few days had cooled as soon as Harper sat down at the bar, and then vanished when she heard the pain in Maya’s voice.
It hadn’t gone far, though. A bit of stoking was all it took to get it back.
“I can’t fucking believe him,” Harper said. “Kieran stabbed you? Twice?”
Maya shrugged. “I did attack him first, to be fair.”
“Fuck being fair. That he could walk away tells me you went too easy on him.”
Harper sipped on her ice water. Maya had remade the drink several times over, since Harper kept forgetting about it, which caused the ice to melt.
As it turned out, the ease of their conversations hadn’t just come from them shirking on their work responsibilities. One moment it was early evening, the next it was nearing midnight.
“Did it hurt?” Harper asked, glancing at Maya’s hand and the scar cutting over the back of it. It wasn’t the same red color as when she’d seen it last. Instead, it looked aged. As though it had been there for years rather than a few days.
Maya grimaced. “Yeah, it did. A lot, actually. Normal weapons just hurt, with wounds caused by silver or the teeth and claws of monsters being the only ones that stick. The only ones that leave scars. That’s our only weakness, other than sunlight and stakes.”
“For most vampires,” Harper said. “You’re special. Remember?”
Maya’s eyes unfocused. “I’m not that special, Harper.”
Her tone took a moment to identify. It wasn’t sad, exactly. More complacent. As though she thought of her words as fact and had accepted them as such a long time ago.
“I think you are.” She took Maya’s hand and turned it over, running her thumb over the scar on her palm. “And, for what it’s worth, I think scars are kind of hot.”
Warmth returned to Maya’s eyes. “How fortunate. I don’t have many regulars, so I’m glad I appeal to the ones I have.”
There was a lot of information in that sentence. Plenty of lewd comments it could invite, as well as several fun directions it could be taken in. But instead, Harper’s attention locked in on one specific word.
Maya said regulars. Plural.
“Speaking of…” Harper kept her eyes on Maya’s palm, tracing the scar’s jagged edge with her fingertip. “That woman you were talking to earlier. Who is she?”
When Maya didn’t answer and instead started smirking, Harper raised her eyebrows.
“What? I’m just asking a question.”
“A loaded question.” Maya grinned. “Don’t tell me you’re feeling jealous?”
“Of course not!” Harper said, cringing. Even to her own ears, those words sounded like a lie. “What do you want me to say? She was hot, and the way you were talking, you seemed to be a lot more than just acquaintances.”
“Well, we are that. Angela and I are close, but we’ve never been that close.
You might like each other, actually, though getting there could take some time.
Angela kind of sucks at making friends.” Maya glanced towards a shadowy corner of the clubroom.
“She’s also seeing someone. Who isn’t really a fan of sharing. ”
Harper gave Maya a long look. “So that’s the only reason you haven’t made a move? She’s taken?”
Maya didn’t defend herself or escalate the argument. Instead, she leaned in, lessening the gap between them.
“Why would you need to feel jealous about that, anyway?”
“You think I’ve forgotten what happened a few nights ago?” Harper leaned in, too. “Maybe I read you wrong. Maybe that sort of kiss was nothing special, and that’s just how you treat all the girls you’re sent to rescue.”