Chapter Eight
Melinda and Lucien
Lucien observed the woman departing the house where she had left Erie with his sister.
Something about this simple human compelled him to abandon his plans to confront his sister.
He wanted to observe her a bit longer. He watched as she briskly jogged away from the driveway, forced to watch from behind.
Despite running here from wherever Erie had found her, her breathing remained even, and sweat glistened in the light provided by the subtle rays of the sun.
Her form was great and he found himself wondering how often she ran.
He would have thought she was from Shadowhaven if she wasn’t so clearly human.
As he watched her, his gaze was drawn to her features he could see.
The subtle play of light revealed a smattering of delicate freckles adorning her semi-tanned skin, hinting at sun-kissed days.
Her gray eyes, like storm clouds tinged with silver, held a depth that seemed to beckon him closer, drawing him into their enigmatic allure.
Her soft pink lips formed silent words to a song, and he found himself wondering what they would feel like against his own.
How would they taste?
How would she taste?
He vehemently rejected each invading thought.
They eventually made it to her property, made evident by the way she became more relaxed as she passed a beat-up maroon truck. Lucien watched as she stumbled her way up the steps of the small farmhouse.
The paint peeling with age while the steps creaked under each step she took.
She opened the front screen door, causing it to groan with each inch she pushed it.
Lucien lost sight of her momentarily once she entered the house, but heard her as she mumbled about needing to clean while shuffling further inside.
Melinda looked around the house, seeing the beer bottles that had been abandoned in the entryway and some that were left on the railing of the stairs.
Dad had been distraught since that day he almost shot the man from the investment company.
She knew he would take a moment to recover from what he almost had done, but the mess of alcohol made her realize it might be worse than she originally imagined.
“Dad,” she called out, but got no response back.
Following the soft sound of the television, she found her father asleep in his recliner with the remote still in his hand.
Doing a quick check, she was met with relief as she saw the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Grabbing a nearby blanket, she threw it over him before heading upstairs to take a quick shower to head into town.
Melinda remained unaware that Lucien remained below, listening to her footsteps as she moved about upstairs.
Once the sound of her shower met his ears, he quickly shifted his focus to his immediate surroundings to keep from overhearing something he shouldn’t.
The monster within him wasn’t too thrilled for this sudden privacy Lueien was giving her.
The scent of coconut from her shampoo and conditioner filled the bathroom. The shower was quick, mostly for scrubbing the sweat from her skin that she had accumulated from her run.
It was strange to think that there were three, well four, vampires in her hometown, a place where the notion of the supernatural was met with religious skepticism.
As she dressed, she thought about her conversation with Isadora at Saddleback.
She had mentioned a brother, but from the trio of vampires in Agatha’s home, none of them were Lucien.
Subconsciously, she found herself wondering what he looked like.
It was evident that vampires were all beautiful.
But while she dwelled on the image she tried to create of Isadora’s brother, all she could envision was Isadora with shorter hair and a much flatter chest. Shaking off the image she brewed, she stepped outside with the cool autumn air seemingly colder with her dampened hair.
The feeling of someone’s eyes had her almost running to the truck and locking it behind her.
Lucien watched the skittish mundane as she nearly tripped into the battered truck. He waited until she was out of view before following after her, using his enhanced speed to keep up with the vehicle as it jounced over the uneven terrain of the dirt roads.
Dust kicked up behind the tires, sending a flurry of sandy debris into the air that blocked the view of the rear of the truck.
Lucien remained to the side with the cover of the trees keeping him hidden.
He followed her all the way into town, taking a more subtle and mundane approach as he followed her to a bar.
“Saddleback,” Lucien read aloud with vampiric amusement. “Such a mundane name fitting of a southern town bar.”
His eyes surveyed the town square, finding three elderly women who kept looking in his direction.
Deciding to fuel their curiosity and his own, he sauntered up to the women with a welcoming smile.
They straightened as he grew closer and fixed their dresses to become more approachable.
He could hear their hearts increasing in pace while their cheeks tinted crimson with the blood rushing under them.
It took everything in him not to lick his lips at the thought of tasting them.
Blood was like wine. It always tasted better the longer it aged.
“You look like a fresh face," the one in blue commented, as soon as he stopped beside their table.
“Seems to be a lot of new faces since Agatha’s passing," the one in brown added.
“Did you know her?” Lucien inquired with his best attempt at mimicking their mundane accent. It felt foreign on his tongue, but he ignored it as he continued. “Agatha?”
“Not personally, but she was always a quiet lady. She kept to herself. She ran an apothecary here, but now it might go up for sale since she passed.”
Lucien took note of the one in purple as she kept her eyes trained on him, cold and calculating. From her thoughts he plucked a name. Lisa Bailey. There was something about her that had his blood singing in her presence.
Another Shadowhaven escapee?
Lucien held back his amusement as he turned back to the other two women that sat at the table. Irene Taylor. Primrose Stevens. Their thoughts were all too easy to access except for the Shadowhaven escapee, but she was most likely blocking him on purpose.
“What do you know about her?” He pressed the two, his head gesturing to the mundane he had been following.
Melinda was exiting her truck with gray eyes glancing over her shoulder on her way into the bar.
Irene and Primrose giggled together as they understood the meaning behind his question. The one in blue, Primrose, spoke first.
“That would be Melinda Hardgrave. Born and raised here by her father.”
“Well,” the one in brown, Irene, interjected with a cautious tone. “It’s not something that’s spoken of anymore, but there was talk that she was adopted. I remember when that pregnant woman showed up on Gene’s doorstep. They didn’t seem like they knew each other prior to her visit.”
“Gene was quite a catch back in the day, Irene. She probably fell victim to those dashing looks and came to raise their child together,” Primrose said with a dreamy far off look.
Lucien gathered she didn’t get a chance to fall victim to Melinda’s dad like Melinda’s mom had.
She shook the dream away with a dismissive wave.
“Back to Melinda. She is a sweet girl. Always helping where she can and we’ve all got ourselves betting on who will finally catch her eye.
My money has been sitting in the Bryon jar since she started frequenting his family’s bar.
She used to be seen with the Strickland kid, but he left for the city when they graduated. ”
Lucien felt a pang of jealousy at the mention of another suitor's name. Another suitor? Lucien’s confusion never showed on his face as he internalized his confusion over mentally referring to himself as a suitor in the first place.
That human would not gain his affection in such a way where he would be considered a suitor.
He knew love was something he couldn’t fall prey to when the history of his leaders reflected why it was such a bad idea.
“Although, if you’re interested in her,” Irene chuckled with bitter delight. “I might have to shift my bet to you. Honestly, a tall drink of fresh water might be exactly what our Melinda needs. It’s obvious she doesn’t care for the catalog of men produced here in Burrow Hills.”
“Perhaps, but some people prefer what they’ve grown accustomed to. If I feel you might win, I’ll let you know,” he teased the ladies with a wink paired with a flirty smile. “Well, it’s time I shoot my shot.”
The ladies, minus Lisa Bailey, all giggled in response. Lucien left them to head inside, aware of the quiet one’s eyes on his back as he made his way to the bar where Melinda was. She may have been an escapee from their home, but she was of no concern to him currently.
***PAGE brEAK***
Lucien sat at the bar with a glass in hand.
Swirling the liquid around, he felt the heat of someone’s eyes on him.
His eyes slowly peeked out of their corners to see Melinda had been staring at him over her book she was trying to read.
Lucien prodded her mind, picking up on the thoughts within before something drove him out.
They said he was danger. Danger in dark jeans and golden eyes, both of which I could see myself inside of... He looks—no I can’t think that way. Think of something else…Bryon is acting normal. Almost like we didn’t sleep together a few nights ago.
Lucien couldn’t help but chuckle at her thoughts of him. The latter part left him disturbed enough in his chest that he had to reel in his unwarranted jealousy. If she came to him, she would be nothing more than a good night spent and nothing more.