Page 20

Maxine

I slumped at the edge of the jetty, watching Myrtle’s smoldering remnants dip below the rippling water. The flames had sputtered out, leaving nothing but curling smoke that dissipated into the night. Beside me, Leah shuddered, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees.

Say something, my brain urged my tongue. But what was there to say?

My chest tightened with all-encompassing guilt. That was her home going under. Myrtle was shabby and cobbled together with grit and duct tape, but that boat had been a sanctuary to the both of us. And now… it was nothing but char and ash, sinking out of sight.

All I could manage was a trembling hand on Leah’s shoulder. She sniffled, nodding faintly like she appreciated the gesture. Her clothes were waterlogged, her hair frizzled where the fire had caught it.

I rubbed her back in slow circles, stiffening when shouts started up from somewhere nearby. No doubt the rest of the harbor residents had caught on to the chaos. They’d be coming to see what all the commotion was about.

“I’m sorry, Leah, but we can’t… we can’t stay here.” My voice came out shaky, but I had to push. As much as I wanted to give her time to grieve, there was no telling when more waxen nightmares would crawl out of the woodwork.

Leah lifted her head, eyes rimmed red and bruised purple with exhaustion. “Okay.” Her voice was hollow, but at least she stood when I tugged gently on her arm.

We stumbled down the jetty, my arm around her waist to keep her upright, both of us worn raw by fire and water – razed down to the bone.

The marina’s security lights cast long streaks of white across the parking lot and I kept my head swiveling, scanning for whatever fresh nightmare might be lurking in the shadows. My bare feet scraped along the tarmac and I shivered in my sparse, damp attire.

A horn honked loudly to our left and we were both startled out of our skin.

I veered around, nearly knocking Leah over in the process, and my rolling eyes landed on the sleek, cherry-red convertible idling by the far curb. The headlights cut through the darkness with twin beams, and the engine’s low purr made my pulse quicken.

Leah stiffened in my grasp and I squeezed her waist, teetering on the line between fight or flight. “Stay behind me,” I muttered.

But before I could do anything more, the car’s window hummed down. A familiar voice, lilting with sardonic amusement, floated across the lot.

“Well, you two look like you’ve had one hell of a night.” River poked her head out, tilting a pair of rose-tinted glasses down her nose. “Need a ride, or were you planning to stand around looking tragic a little bit longer?”

River’s home was an eccentric sprawl of connected corridors, hallways that led to random dead-ends, cluttered rooms, and wild gardens that bled into indoor courtyards.

Stepping inside, soaked and exhausted from our narrow escape, I nearly stumbled over the raised threshold, trying to catch my breath while supporting a wary-looking Leah with one arm.

The interior was just as odd as I remembered—trinkets from countless eras crowded every surface, paintings of questionable taste jostled for space on the walls, and a koi pond wove through the center of the home like a liquid tapestry.

It was nature blended seamlessly with a vast selection of luxurious oddities and it was exactly River in every possible way.

Leah’s eyes flicked around, wide with disbelief. “Is that… an actual river running through her living room ?” she murmured. Her voice was raspy from the smoke and salt water.

I offered a tired shrug. “It’s more of a stream—but, yeah. River’s just odd like that. This is normal for her, believe it or not.”

Leah offered a numb nod, her eyes flicking between the elaborate décor and the gently lapping water. She looked shell-shocked, still reeling from the loss of her boat and the nightmares she’d just witnessed.

River had disappeared around a corner moments earlier and she returned wearing a silky, flowing robe, ruby-red and embroidered with a thousand speckled birds. She regarded us both with a single raised brow.

“You both look like shit,” she remarked as she swept her gaze over us—ragged and dripping, covered in soot and waxy residue. “Don’t scowl at me, Maxine. It’s the truth. And where’s your pants?”

I glanced down at myself, irritably tugging my soaked T-shirt over my bare legs. “There wasn’t much time to dress for the occasion.”

“I see. Well, follow me.” River turned on her heel, glancing over her shoulder at a bewildered Leah. “You can hang around here for the night. Leah, there’s a shower in the guestroom if you’d like to warm up.”

“Uh, th–thanks.” Leah shot me a questioning glance, and I exhaled a deep sigh.

“We might as well, it’s not like we have many options.” I knew that wasn’t what she was really inquiring about, but explaining how the hell River knew where to find us, and when, was something I was in no mood to tackle just yet.

No doubt the prescient vamp had been struck with another one of her visions. Or she was just a little too dedicated to keeping tabs on me. Either way, she’d shown up when we needed her most so I was in no position to complain.

River led us through a series of corridors, all lined with dusty artifacts and softly glowing lanterns. Every few steps, we passed small arched bridges that spanned sections of the interior koi pond. Leah stared down at the fish gliding beside us, her expression glazed and vacant.

When we reached the main foyer, River paused, her robe rippling like water. “I foresaw a bit of chaos on your horizon so I took the liberty of preparing a room. Are you guys an item yet or–”

“ Thank you, River ,” I cut in abruptly, clearing my throat and avoiding Leah’s eyes. “We’ll be going now.”

River only chuckled and inclined her head. “Guest room is down that way. But I hope you know you’ll have to speak to Jordan eventually, before all this trouble escalates.” Her gaze flicked pointedly between me and Leah. “I’m sure she’ll have plenty of questions.”

“I’m sure she will,” I lamented, taking Leah by the elbow and guiding her down the corridor. “Thanks for the rescue.”

“Anytime.” River offered an exaggerated bow before sweeping away, disappearing in a flurry of red silk and dark curls.

Leah and I shuffled off, dripping briny water on the plush carpets that guided us to a set of double doors. The room beyond was enormous, the walls decorated with a vivid mural of birds in flight. A canopied bed sat in the center, gauzy curtains draped in elegant folds.

Leah let out a shaky breath. “This is… something else.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, combing fingers through my matted hair. “River has a flair for the tacky and dramatic.”

“No kidding–”

I steadied her when she struck up a fitful cough, hacking and huffing the last of the smoke from her lungs.

“There’s the bathroom,” I offered, pointing to an ornate side door on the far corner of the room. “You could wash up if you want.”

Her hair was still clumped and ruffled, caked with sea salt, and her clothes hung from her shivering body in singed tatters.

She gave a faint nod and disappeared through the bathroom door without another word. I listened to the soft hiss of water rushing through pipes, then the sputter of the showerhead.

While she was gone I fiddled with a nearby lamp, adjusting the brightness until the room glowed with a low, soothing light.

Then I rummaged around the gargantuan wardrobe and pulled out a set of silk pajamas, slipping into them and breathing a sigh of relief at the feel of the soft fabric on my skin.

After a short while, Leah emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a plush white robe. Her damp hair clung to her neck, and her eyes were still haunted. She hesitated near the doorway, looking anywhere but directly at me.

“Feel better?” I asked hesitantly.

“Cleaner,” she allowed, her voice cracking. “Otherwise… I still feel… everything.”

“I’m sorry.” My voice dropped to a hoarse whisper and I plopped down on the edge of the bed, pulling my knees to my chin. “I’m sorry about Myrtle and I’m sorry for scaring you. I’m sorry for drawing those things into your home.”

When she didn’t respond I continued, keeping my eyes down, “I think… I think it’s time I tell you everything. I want to tell you everything. But…you might not like me much if I do.”

She hesitated for a moment, then approached slowly, padded steps thudding on the polished floor. “Okay.”

She perched on the bed beside me, and my pulse thundered as I braced myself. I fiddled with the tassels on the duvet, trying to steady my trembling hands.

“Leah,” I began, my voice wobbling, “the reason I left you back in San Francisco—it’s… more complicated than you might think.”

She nodded, her gaze unwavering, though the tension in her posture told me she was bracing for the worst. “Go on.”

“It wasn’t just about my family. Sure, they were overbearing, controlling, and just generally terrible fucking people,” I continued, twisting the tassel around my finger.

“That was part of it, but… they wanted me to marry someone. They had my whole life planned out for me and marriage was first on the list.”

Leah frowned, confusion flitting across her features. “Marry someone?” she echoed, clearly not expecting that turn of events.

“Yes. A man my parents had chosen, some influential person in my… circle. They expected me to just go along with it, and I considered it. But he had a reputation. A frightening one. And I didn’t want to spend my whole life under my parents’ thumb just to go on to become his property in some twisted arrangement. ”

Her expression shifted and color drained from her face, lips parting in silent shock.

“So you ran,” she said quietly.

I nodded, swallowing around the lump in my throat. “I ran. I fled to New York, thinking I could start over and get away from them. But I never got to say goodbye to you.”

I hesitated, forcing myself to meet her gaze.

“My family, they started to notice…well, you. All the time I spent away from home. They were suspicious, and I knew if they believed you mattered to me… they could hurt you, or use you against me. So I just left. It killed me to do it, but I was convinced you’d be safer if I just disappeared. ”

Leah’s brow furrowed, an odd, burgeoning horror brimming behind her eyes. “All this time… you were protecting me?”

“That was the plan.” I let out a shaky laugh that held no real mirth. “I thought I was doing the right thing. Of course, it never occurred to me how much that would hurt you, or how it would haunt me.”

Her eyes shimmered with emotion, but her voice stayed tense. “You were engaged…”

“There’s more. And this is gonna sound really fucking ridiculous and you’re probably going to think I’m crazy, but–” I closed my eyes for a moment, steeling myself.

“I’m–I’m kind of like a… a vampire,” I finally said, the words tasting foreign on my tongue. “My whole family is. That fiancé of mine, Gregor—he’s one too, and powerful. He’s ancient. Those wax models that attacked us tonight were sent by him. He’s the one who's been tracking me down.”

Leah’s expression twitched—fear, disturbance, something else. But to my surprise, it wasn’t the vampire confession that seemed to truly disturb her; that much was clear.

She wore a haunted look, but she didn’t seem particularly fixed on the idea that I drank blood. Instead, she’d looked more anguished by the idea of an arranged marriage, my family’s control, and Gregor’s violent pursuit.

I pressed a hand to my temple, trying to calm the riot of nerves in my chest. “I know it’s a lot. And I’m sorry you got dragged into it. I’m sorry I never told you any of this before.”

She let out a trembling breath, arms folding around herself as she tried to process it all. “Your fiancé sent those… those wax things?” Her lips pressed into a tight line, eyes flicking briefly with anger. “Maxine, that’s… God, that’s horrible.”

A tear slipped down my cheek, and I reached to wipe it away. “I didn’t know what else to do,” I admitted, voice breaking. “I left to keep you safe. And now… after everything, I’ve only put you in danger again. I’m so sorry, Leah.”

For a moment, she sat in silence, her head bowed. I braced for her rejection or terror, but when she looked up again, her gaze was full of pained understanding rather than condemnation.

“You should have told me sooner,” she whispered, her voice rough at the edges. “I could have helped you, I could have handled it. I wish you had let me decide for myself.” Her eyes flicked away, and she let out a shuddering breath. “I had no idea you were engaged.”

I stared at her, my heart hammering in my chest. She shifted on the bed, running a hand over her eyes and exhaling a wavering breath. My mind spun. Did she not hear the whole vampire thing?

Tentatively, I spoke again, my voice stilted. “Leah… you do realize what I just said, right? About me being a vampire?”

She met my gaze, eyes clouded with worry and shook her head in a small, almost dismissive gesture. “Yeah, I heard you,” she said, like it was the most ordinary revelation in the world.

I blinked, struggling to process her calm. “You—so you’re not… freaking out?” The words came out in a disbelieving rush. “You’re not even batting an eyelash that I’m a vampire?”

She shrugged, chewing on her bottom lip. “Not really,” she admitted. “I mean, everything you’ve told me, it’s… a lot. But I already knew that part.”

My jaw nearly hit the floor. “What do you mean you already knew ?”

She sighed, steepling her fingers in her lap, and sucked in a breath. Then she met my gaze, tension and trepidation flickering behind her eyes.

“I have something to tell you too.”