Chapter 10 Theron
Chapter Ten
Theron
“You got yourself a real sweetheart there, Hunter, but watch out she isn’t the one who ends up biting you.”
Luna is waiting for me in the storage room.
The inn has an airless broom cupboard where the summer gear is stored: shade umbrellas, volleyballs, nets; all that shit humans just love to pass the lazy, hot days.
This early in the summer season, no one ever bothers looking in here.
Sometimes I head to the storage space for peace and quiet when I’m sick of hiding from the sunlight or when I want to avoid the rest of the coven.
It’s dark with no windows and smells funky enough to blot out all thoughts of blood from my mind. What’s not to like?
I was planning to emerge from this room and pretend that is where I spent the day. But it seems Luna got a bead on my strategy.
I’m an apex predator and a loner. Always have been. Even the strong bonds of brotherhood can feel stifling after a millennia or two, and being with those who will judge me for having such an uncontrollable obsession is not what I need right now.
Slumping down on a storage crate full of croquet and tennis balls, I rub my hands down my face. “The weight of my secrets is dragging me down, sister.”
“You reek of her scent. You must bathe before rejoining the others.”
“I happen to adore Aila’s scent, Luna. Reckon the Riders should get used to smelling it on me. And if anyone has a problem with that, well then, I guess we have a problem.”
Luna smiles. “If you are banished, where will you get fluids? If you have bonded with the chestnut-haired beauty, then you will find no joy feeding from others. It’s a predicament, Hunter, one that we can hopefully resolve together—without anyone getting hurt.”
I think about Aila’s stubborn refusal to even pretend there is a possibility of falling in love with me. That makes me real fucking grumpy.
“She saw my fangs. When I am with Aila, I seem to be in a permanent state of arousal. I managed to cloud her memory of what she saw, but it was… challenging.”
“It’s hard to keep juggling lies around when it would be easier to tell the truth. Don’t forget that every time you throw a glamour over Aila, it can alienate her from you. Believe me when I tell you this, Theron. No woman wants to experience a loss of memory after dating a guy.”
I think Luna understands. She’d sussed Shadow’s secret after he let his guard down for a millisecond. That allowed Luna to see his true appearance without the glamour. She’d guessed immediately what he was—a monster. It didn’t stop her from loving him, though.
“I’ve never been any good at pretending, Luna. And by that, I mean pretending to be one person for any extended length of time. I’m usually in and out before any woman suspects something ain’t right, y’know?”
I have never spent more than half an hour alone with any woman, ever.
Sure, the seduction might take a little time if I wanted sex to be part of my meal—the rule that prohibits us from doing anything without asking permission first—but for the most part, I prefer satisfying my hunger with free range fluids.
I would spot my prey on the street and then wait for her to welcome my advances. Every Rider is irresistible. Only women with the strongest wills can say no.
Over easy, in and out. A quick flirtation. A smile, a wink, and a kiss is all she will ever remember.
There is a reason why mothers tell their daughters not to walk alone at night, and it’s me.
Shaking her head, Luna sighs. “Oh, Hunter. I wondered when it was going to dawn on you that living your life alone wasn’t as free and easy as you always imagined it to be. But you can’t go sneaking around behind Shadow’s back. I won’t allow it.”
Yep. There go my hackles rising. Being a biker suits me so well. I was born to rebel against authority. An outlaw through and through.
“I wouldn’t need to sneak around if Shadow wasn’t such a pussy about the daylight. I went out fully covered and then made sure to stay in the shade. No problems.”
A fire flashes in Luna’s eyes. “Shadow is the club’s Prez, and it would be best for you to remember that.
Don’t be careless about something you don’t even understand.
We don’t know what kind of damage being exposed to the sun might do to us in the long term.
As a redhead, believe me when I tell you that even humans are afraid of it. ”
A couple of Riders have been caught by the sunlight before, but it was never intentional. For a moment, I wonder what might happen if I got a faceful of sunshine by accident. Could it kill me?
Standing up, I bite back a snarl. “We finished? Can I go now?” I’m grouchy, but I’m not an asshole. Luna is a kind lady who just wants to help.
Luna nods. “We’re done here, Theron. Think twice before you go out into the sunlight again.”
I nod and give a mock salute. “Duly noted. Thanks for the heads up.”
Running as fast as a falling star, I make my way to the marina. Jeans, t-shirt, and boots off, I toss the clothes into the water and watch them sink. Only when I am sure they are fully submerged do I slip silently into the creek.
The inlet’s surface is glossy and smooth. My body hardly makes a ripple as I stand with my feet in the creek’s muddy ooze.
Ducking my head down, I sit on the river bottom, staring up at the silvery circle of the moon. Something happened between my first time meeting Aila and now. If I manage to find out what that is, I think it might help me crack the password to her soul.
We have joined our bodies together in the most intimate way possible. I have tasted her blood, and she is part of me now. I will not willingly let her go.
Rising out of the water, I hear Vince Pruitt, our friendly local neighborhood forger, busy etching a new document. He’s got a nice little setup on his boat moored at the marina. Living on a no-mans-land island in the middle of the Canadian-United States border has its advantages.
Vince never has to worry about the Feds or Mounties kicking in his door.
Breathing in, I check myself for traces of Aila. I long to hold her in my arms all day, falling asleep with the fragrance of her perfume in my head.
Time for me to find out more about Aila O’Hara.
Walking back to the clubhouse with cautious stealth allows my skin and hair to air dry. Motion detector lights of any kind are banned on Landslide, but this area is the center of all darkness.
The dead ride fast indeed.
I listen at the door to check if any of the Riders are inside. Nope. The coast is clear. They will be playacting as humans up at the inn.
Throwing the clothes into a pile in the corner, I use the secret tunnel that connects with the basement brewhouse. I could do with a couple of bottles of fluid right about now.
“Perkele! Put some fucking clothes on, Theron.” Rundas, the club’s veep, is still here.
“Went for a swim.”
Rundas is on his way out, but he pivots. “Why?”
It’s a good question. We don’t actually sweat; condensation collects on our skin, it doesn’t come out of it. Nor do we have any human bodily functions. A Rider could wear a set of clothes for as long as he wanted, so long as he doesn’t stain it with blood.
We stare one another down across the basement, Rundas poised at the exit and me at the tunnel’s trapdoor.
It feels like a standoff, but I’m cool.
“Oil.”
Rundas’s nostrils flare as he sniffs. “I don’t smell any. Did you use dishwashing soap?”
The mechanic, Carson Regan, shared the secret of how to get motor oil out of our clothing many years back.
“Yes.”
“Don’t fucking wash with dishwashing soap in the creek. Luna says it’s bad for the environment.”
And on that, Rundas leaves.
Fuck, that was close. Luna was right. Lying is damn difficult.
I change into another set of clothes and then go join the rest of the Riders at the bar. Aila isn’t here, but there is Amelia sitting in the corner with Ben. They look very cozy. Got me thinking that the mother is willing to fall in love faster than the daughter, that’s for sure.
Shadow is in charge of slinging drinks this evening. I guess Luna gave him some excuse about not being able to do it so that she could wait for me to sneak back in.
He slides a bottle of fluids over to me to show that there are no hard feelings. The Midnight Sons are doomed to ride together for all eternity. Hanging onto grudges is not an option.
It’s dark enough in here for me to operate smoothly in my comfort zone. Ambling over to Ben’s and Amelia’s table, I pull out a chair and point to it.
“You folks mind if I sit down?”
Amelia nods in a friendly way, but I can see that Ben is pissed. He gets his shot in first.
“How’s your father, Hunter? I see you aren’t wearing your colors this evening. Is Theron still living over in Winnipeg?”
When we ride out for blood on the mainland, we usually head north in winter, where the nights are longer. Every generation or so, we pretend that the “father” stayed in the north while the “son” takes his place. This stops the locals from raising questions about our immortal good looks.
We regenerated five years ago, turning our dark hair lighter and shaving off our thick beards. We’ll do it again in another thirty years or so, because the father-son system has worked for over two hundred years.
Ben is trying to make a point that he thinks I am too young to consider flirting with Amelia. He’s not wrong there.
“My dad’s fine, thanks for asking, Ben.”
Amelia leans in. “Your folks are in Winnipeg? Aila and me are based there now! Whereabouts is your dad? Maybe I’ve served him coffee, you never know. It’s a small world.”
“It’s a fucking enormous world when someone gives you the wrong surname, Amelia. That’s what Aila did to me back in La Pas.”
Ben senses the change in the atmosphere immediately. And he also realizes that it’s not Amelia I am after.
“Er… I’ll just go find out what’s keeping Vince at the marina while the two of you catch up, shall I?”
Amelia lifts her hand as if she wants to stop him, but Ben scoots with an apology. “You stay here with Hunter, sweet pea. I won’t be more than a moment, I promise.”
She watches Ben leave, a worried expression on her face. Then Amelia turns her attention back to me.
“I let you sit down because you are friends with my daughter, Mister. But if you want to cuss at me, then you can just mosey yourself on out of here.”
“Fine. No cussing. Why did Aila use the surname O’Hara in La Pas? That’s how she introduced herself to me.”
Amelia skirts around giving me a straight answer as she plays with the paper from her straw.
“I didn’t know you had previously met my daughter. She never said a word.” Meeting my gaze, she asks me head on. “Is that why I got a booking here?”
I feel it’s safe for me to act innocent. “Landslide bookings are based on many factors, Amelia. Don’t sell yourself cheap. Aren’t you having a good time so far?”
She looks around the bar. Even darkly lit, the chalet inn bar gives off cheerful vibes. A thrumming, churning sound is coming from underneath us; the noise from the automated microbrewery making craft beer. It drowns out the noise from the home brewery making fluids in the basement.
“It feels like a dream. Ben arriving to rescue me from the jetty after you and Aila left me all alone… He is the nicest man. I spent the day at his farm. It’s organic, you know.”
Yep. I know, but that’s not what I want to hear. I bring back the original topic of our conversation.
“Why did Aila ditch her surname?”
Drawing circles with the moisture on the table, Amelia drags her feet. “Social media is such a scourge. That’s one of the reasons why I like it here so much. No one to hassle me for not responding to something immediately.”
I’m sure she will get to the point at some time.
“Aila worked so hard to pay off her student loan.” Amelia heaves a heavy sigh.
“But then she dropped out. That’s when she changed her name.
Maybe she didn’t want her college buddies to know where she ended up?
” Even with my limited experience with humans, I can tell that Amelia knows the reason but won’t say.
“Why the change? Dropping out. Losing her surname. That can’t be considered normal behavior.”
Amelia leans back and crosses her arms. “Are you trying to say it was drugs? You’re dead wrong. My Aila is a good girl. I think you should be asking her all these questions. Only Aila knows the real reason.”
Shit. Okay. This is not a good time for me to let on how Aila and I spent the afternoon. Amelia O’Hara might be here to find true love, but it hasn’t put a dent in her motherly instincts.
“I’m a biker, Amelia. Not a shrink. But thanks.”
I guess I’m back to tapping on Aila’s window like a lovestruck Romeo.