Page 8
Story: Dark Lord of the Night
God help her, he looked like he meant it. “Why?”
“What? I can’t invite my ex and my sister over for a holiday dinner?”
“Your ex wants nothing to do with you, and your sister hasn’t spoken to you since you decapitated someone right in front of her.”
“Right.” He rubbed the back of his neck, then toyed with the thin silver chain suspending two small St. Christopher medallions around his neck. Her eyes caught on the stumps that remained of two of his fingers, casualties of a hunt gone unthinkably wrong. “Look, I know how it is, but, well…oh for fuck’s sake, Cass, don’t make this hard. My mom is on my case about making up with Sam, and I really need her to come to this dinner. Will you talk to her? I think she’ll join if you come.”
“Your poor mother still doesn’t have a clue what’s going on with her own family, does she?” He just looked at her, mouth flat. “Unbelievable,” Cassidy said on a stunned exhalation. Of all the people he could ask to help him keep up this charade, she had to rank at the very bottom, if not lower. His pained expression notwithstanding, something here felt beyond wrong.
Something else very wrong presently opened the door. Jim Lawley’s grinning face appeared. “Good morning, Sunshine. Got a minute?”
Since the only person she wanted to deal with less than the veteran newsman was settling back into the visitor chair, this answer was obvious.
“Of course, Jim. Come in.” She ignored Jackson’s glower, sat down, and pulled a legal pad from a drawer. During her first weeks on the job, Jim had been very vocal about his resentment for her. In his eyes, she was the clueless new J-school grad who had landed her then-entry-level job only because her then-fiancé was the son of the Gazette’s most generous investor.
That was then.
Now he appeared in her office every morning with a long-stemmed red rose twirling in his fingers. Giving Jackson only a faint acknowledgment, he tucked the bloom into the vase on her desk where all the others he had recently delivered stood at various states of attention. Their dusty sweet scent permeated the air. Petals dripped from one of the oldest, like ruby splatters of blood.
“A token of eternal devotion.”
She pulled her face into a tight smile.
When she caught Jackson’s hard scowl, she sobered. “What have you got for me today, Jim?”
“I’m working on a series about the rise of overdose deaths right here in Orchard Beach,” he began, and detailed sources and findings with grim delight. There would also be a digital exclusive for her about the police response.
She made notes and mentally shuffled scheduled posts. “I appreciate it, Jim, but…aren’t you going out of town tomorrow?”
“For my cousin’s wedding in New York, yes. Don’t worry,” he intoned, lifting a reassuring hand, “I’ll have it to you by end of day today.” He retreated toward the exit, steps bouncing. “Carry on,” he told Jackson before closing the door behind himself.
Jackson frowned at the door, then the vase of roses. He swung a finger between the two. “Is this the same Jim who said he was going to ‘bury’ you? Professionally?”
She sucked on her lower lip and folded her hands on the desk, waiting for the inevitable conclusion.
“He had a visit from your resident bloodsucker, didn’t he?”
“Why are you even asking?”
“Cassidy. That guy’s compelled out of his fucking gourd.”
“Only where I am concerned. He’s still a son of a bitch to everyone else.” Which caused speculations of an entirely different sort she didn’t even want to contemplate.
“And he brings you flowers.” Jackson smirked. “Nice.”
She clutched her hands tighter, fighting the urge to move the vase out of his reach. The roses Jim delivered were Dominique’s way of reaching her during the day when they couldn’t be together.
Jackson leaned back in the chair, legs wide. “So, you know that there are people in your life that don’t act of their own free will because of the company you keep, right?”
“And your point is?”
“More of a question. If you know he’s compelled, why don’t you think you are, too?”
“Oh, not this again.”
“Yes, this. It’s always this with me. Your well-being is, and always has been, my top concern, Cass. Even before you got sucked into my reality.”
“Well, I’ve been living in your reality”—she made air quotes around the term—“for months now, and as you can see”—indicating herself with both hands—“I’m doing just fine. Dominique is no threat to me.”
Table of Contents
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- Page 8 (Reading here)
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