Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Aila
Watching Theron stride out of the bar forces me to ponder: how deep down this rabbit hole am I prepared to go?
If Theron’s a vampire, and I am in no doubt about that being true, then his long-term loyalty is to his coven. Which means I could be in danger.
He’s a killer. They all are. Even now, I can feel the side effects from the blood loss where he sank his fangs into me. Dizzy when I look up and bend down, lack of concentration, and lots of confusion. Even after forcing myself to eat some of that black stuff called Bovril.
Or am I sick because I’m fighting so hard not to fall head over heels in love?
Pushing my emotions aside, I need to know if I will survive my second encounter with this ruggedly handsome, ever-so charming psycho bloodsucker.
The more I try to rationalize it away, the less sense it makes for me to stay here. Theron was not trying to shine me on when he told me how his tribe bred all the compassion and weakness out of the males.
But deliberately breeding men to be warriors and hunters doesn’t necessarily make them predators. There’s a huge difference. And I just don’t get predator vibes from Theron.
I get the feeling that he likes to be with me as an equal, not as a victim.
Or is that just the schtick he tells me to stop me from running away?
There is no question that my stormy vampire lover has a serious case of the green-eyed monster regarding me. I don’t need to be psychic to see he felt red rage when he saw me trying to be friendly with Rundas. But he was able to pull it back long enough for the red rage to turn into the blues.
I’m blue too, because I honestly don’t know what my next move should be.
Time for me to grab some space and put some distance between Theron and me.
If Landslide felt claustrophobic to me before, it’s downright oppressive now.
This not being my first rodeo, I’m cashing up after closing the bar, then locking the doors. Those zero crime stats on the Swiss chalet inn website make a lot more sense to me now that I know about the coven.
Going down the passage, I check that the dining room is neat and clean. The first batch of guests arrives tomorrow, but I won’t be around to serve them drinks tomorrow night. I’ll be catching a lift back to the mainland with Monty Hubble.
My priority is to be sure that the vampires will allow me to leave before I make my mind up about anything else.
At any time, I’m expecting Theron to materialize out of the darkness as I walk to my bedroom. But the corridor remains resolutely empty.
Inside my room, I look at the tumbled sheets. I never made my bed after we made love on it. I am still trying to capture the source of Theron’s elusive musk.
Pushing him out of my mind, I strip the sheets off the bed and flop down on the blankets. I think it’s bothering me that Theron sauntered out of the bar this evening without so much as a “goodnight.” And he’s not here now.
Has he accepted the fact that I’m leaving without putting up a fight?
Huffing, I get up and lock my door. Then I slide the window shut as well for good measure.
If that’s how he wants to play the game, then all this is on him.
So why does my night feel so lost and lonely without him?
I’ll shower in the morning. Splashing my face with the lukewarm water coming out of the faucet is not as invigorating as I thought it would be. Nor is cleaning my teeth.
My mind is turning cartwheels as I rehash how I could have played this better. I’ve been on the run for so long that I might have lost sight of what it is that I really want out of my life.
Do I really need to travel and live alone?
Stripping down to my panties, I climb into bed. With the window closed, there is no fresh air in the room. My pillows feel hot and lumpy.
Damn you, Theron. I can’t tell if my life has gotten better or worse with you in it!
And then I smell it. His special scent. That manly musk that is not quite human but still so identifiable as male. A hint of the outdoors. A touch of leather. And a whisper of grit and iron.
Burying my face in the pillowcase, I breathe deeply. A sense of peace floods my body. More than that, I feel… safe.
Kneeling on my bed, I lean forward and lift the window sash back open.
There’s a note on my pillow when I wake up. My stomach jolts when I see it. Before I visit the bathroom, I’m fumbling with the paper to open it.
Hey Aila,
Can you please set the dining room for breakfast?
You’ll find everything you need in the kitchen.
Amelia and Ben said they want to eat breakfast with you so your mom can say bye.
Everything’s on the house. The bedrooms and dormitories have never looked so clean!
Thanks for stepping up and serving at the bar last night.
Shadow settled it with Monty so you can catch the ferry back to the mainland for free this evening.
We hope your stay on lovely Landslide was the peaceful break that you needed it to be. All the best.
Luna Blackwood (manager: Swiss chalet inn).
P.S. The ferry is due at sunset. If you need help with your cases, please ask Ben. He can stick your luggage in the back of his truck.
The note is not from Theron.
Stomping off to the bathroom, I stare at my face in the mirror. I look pale and puffy. Ugh. My hair is a tangled mass of chestnut knots. I must have slept restlessly last night.
Coming back into the bedroom doesn’t change my black mood, because the note still isn’t from Theron.
Picking it up, I stare at the printed words again.
I had it all mixed up. The coven doesn’t give a rat’s ass that Theron told me the truth. They know full well that I’ll come off like a maniac if I leave here and start blabbing about what lives undercover on Landslide.
Searching the printout for clues to see if there is any input from Theron, I find none.
Damn, damn, damn!
If I was hoping for a sign from him that might prompt me to stay here longer, this note is not it. Right now, I am obsessing over what went wrong. After spending a glorious couple of days in bed together, only broken up by food breaks a couple times a day, now my blood loving biker is ghosting me.
It takes me a while to realize the truth.
Theron is not the sort of person to sit around and wait for a woman’s encouragement. He takes what he wants, and if there is nothing more to make him stick around, he leaves.
Not nice, but I wasn’t attracted to Theron’s niceness anyway.
My dark mood follows me to the dining room. These cheery checked tablecloths and handcrafted wooden furniture do nothing to lighten the heavy sense of dejection in my belly.
Grabbing some packets of cereal out of the pantry and a few of those packaged sweet pastries that are part of the continental breakfast experience at the inn, I throw them in a pile on the serving table. Teabags, sugar, coffee.
By the time the water is boiling, Mom and Ben have come in.
“Darling!” Mom is all smiles. So is Ben. And just like that, my dark mood lifts.
Mom hugs me and then pulls back. “But you’re so pale? How are you feeling?” She pinches my arms. “Have you lost weight?’
Plonking myself down opposite the happy couple, I bang my elbows on the table and lean my chin on my hands.
“Doing housework here kept me out of the sun.” Noticing the vintage pearl necklace around my mom’s neck, I make my own assumptions about how she’s doing with Ben. “Ferry comes this evening at sunset. Ben, can you please help me carry my stuff to the jetty?”
Ben nods, but he’s not finished. When my mom gets up to pour coffee and select a few of the cellophane wrapped, extended shelf-life pastries for herself, he taps the table.
“Your mom was worried about you going Stateside, Aila. I’m here to let you know I can pay for Vince to take you back to the Canada side of the Lake of the Woods, if he’s available to do it.”
This is news to me. Why the heck don’t people ever update me on things?
“The ferry picked us up from the Canada side, Ben! Please tell me why it can’t go back there?”
Hearing my frustrated outburst, my mom drops a packaged croissant in front of me.
“Eat something, Aila. You sound short-tempered.”
Boxed orange juice and carbs loaded with additives is not what I am hungry for right now, but I have to pretend everything is normal, business as usual, just to get my mom off my back.
Ben smiles as Amelia sits down. He’s jumpy because of my acidic attitude.
“Landslide doesn’t pay Monty, Aila. The passengers do. Didn’t you read the Terms and Conditions?”
Looking very pleased with herself, as if she read through every word of the contract before glibly signing it, Mom begins a lecture.
“Monty operates on a schedule, Aila. The tides around Angle Inlet creek are what he plans around. Didn’t you read the tide chart pinned on the noticeboard? He can only bring the ferry here during the highest tides because of all the sandbanks and sucking mud.”
Trying to be patient and polite, I acknowledge this. But I know the real reason why the fucking ferry can only dock after sundown.
“Yeah, okay. But last time I checked, sandbanks and sucking mud are not a problem in Canada!”
Ben steps in before I lose it.
“We understand your frustration, Aila, but if you leave today, the States are the only dropping off point in Monty’s schedule. He has a consignment of fresh produce to pick up for the Heiners. And your mom has concerns about you going to Minnesota.”
Dabbing her eyes with a paper serviette, my mom confesses.
“I… I don’t think you should get too complacent about that man, baby. What if he comes after you?”
Gulping down the last few inches of OJ in my glass, I push back my chair.
“Stop getting into my business, Mom! It’s over, okay? I guess I don’t have your magic touch when it comes to hooking men. Theron is a coldhearted son of a bitch! There, I said it! So, put that in your pipe and smoke it!”
Backing towards the door, I wipe the tears away from my eyes. I can’t end it like this or else my mother will come after me.
“I’m really happy for you both, and I love you, but this is a difficult time for me, so please try to be understanding when I tell you that I don’t want to make a big deal about saying goodbye.”
I can’t take the confused look on their faces anymore. When Mom tries to follow me, I snap back.
“Leave me alone. Please, Mom, for once in your life, will you stop sticking your nose in my affairs?”
How humiliating. Ben is going to tell everyone at the bar tonight. The rugged, raunchy Midnight Rider, Theron Rabane, is letting me go. He couldn’t be making it any clearer.
His speedy exit from the bar last night. His curt dismissal of my choice in music. And he never even bothered to say goodbye. And now that the sun is up, it’s too late.
Trotting to my bedroom as quick as I can, I begin to throw stuff into my case the moment it’s open.
No doubt, I hate myself right now. I should have realized that the beautiful time we spent together on this bed would shake me up and change my mind.
My blasted pride! I can’t handle that I might have met my match.
I can taste my freedom—and it tastes like ashes in my mouth.
Too soon, the clock on my phone shows me it’s nearly seven in the evening.
Dragging my bag to the door, I see Ben has backed up his truck to the entrance. He gets out to help me. He looks embarrassed after having seen my emotional ranting.
“Probably best this way after all, Aila. Your mother’s pretty cut up about you leaving.”
“Time for me to see what good old United States has to offer, Ben.” I’m speaking over the lump in my throat.
Shaking his head, Ben tosses the last bag into the back and gets in, then puts the truck into gear. “The thing is, Aila, I think you should have let your mom finish saying her piece. It wasn’t your relationship with Mister Hunter she was worried about.”
The truck bounces down the circular road, past Luna’s house, past the sign about the dead riding fast.
“I know she’s concerned about me living on my own, Ben, but I’m not about to put down roots here just because I’m afraid of what’s out there.”
Taking his eyes off the road, Ben stares at me like I’m crazy. “From what Amelia told me, Aila, that is exactly what you should be afraid of!”