Knight Predator (30 page)

“No, I’m accusing you of being mysterious. Thank God for that. I was afraid you were going to think I was a total child.”

“Really? Me? If you had looked closer, you would have known how I felt. It’s okay for you to do that.”

Bronwyn gave me one of her patented exasperated stares. “Yes, really. Like I said before, just spit it out. You’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met.”

“So are you,” I said. “I want to go and visit your parents, because you really need to talk to them again.”

Bronwyn sat up and stared at me. “What do you mean you want to visit my parents?” she asked in a controlled voice.

I sat in front of her, and she shifted position so our cross-legged knees touched. I took her hands into mine. “I know how much you love your parents. I’ve seen it. I know you miss them and you want to know how they’re doing. So I want to take you to find out.”

Her fiery green eyes almost glowed in the pale moonlight. The muscles in her jaw worked as she tried to argue with me. Finally, her shoulders sagged a little, and she studied the grass, troubled. “I guess so.”

I cradled her face in gentle hands, so we were eye to eye, and I smiled. “Your parents will forgive you. You just have to ask them.

They really do love you, you know.”

“How can you be so sure? They told me never to come back. I really burnt my bridges with them.”

“Trust me, it’s a good idea.” I wasn’t sure if she had seen my memory of my father’s death bed. My parents had exchanged harsh words when I had announced that I was going to marry David regard-less of what they thought. Then David’s true colors had come out, and I had not known how to go back to them. I had always been Daddy’s girl, and my apology to him had come too late. It had taken me quite a while to come to terms with it all, and the regrets I had fueled my disquiet with eternity.

“I really don’t know about this. When did you want to do it?”

“No time like the present.”

She looked absolutely horrified. Before she could come up with a million excuses, I held up my hand. “Take it easy. Just trust me. One more time. Can you do that?”

Her jaw worked as she thought about it. Finally, she turned to me, fiery eyes glinting. “Okay, I’ll trust you. But don’t you leave me.”

“I can do that.” I kissed her. “It won’t take us more than a couple of hours to get there.” I levered myself to my feet and brushed off the seat of my shorts. I held out my hand to help her to her feet.

She looked lost in thought as I led her toward the garage. She was distressed, but not to the point of cold feet.

We screamed down the driveway at breakneck speed, me negotiating the corners with practiced ease.

I left the top of my sports car down, and the wind streamed through our hair. We saw a shooting star and a satellite, and more than one kangaroo bounding through the pitch black bush that bordered the road. The lights from small towns came and went, with no signs of the police, as we approached the city. Bronwyn was silent throughout the trip, deep in thought.

When we finally hit the city and started encountering some light traffic, I turned to her to try and get her to untwist some of the knots she had put together inside herself.

“You know what the most important thing is, don’t you?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t forget to breathe. You don’t want to have to explain that you lived fast, died young, and are a good looking corpse.”

She stared at me expressionlessly.

“Bit too stressed for humor?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Relax. These people love you. You have a home with them. I love you. You have a home with me. If it doesn’t work, at least you tried. I know perfectly well you want to see them and talk to them.”

“You’re not helping.”

“I know I’m not. We’re there.”

She looked as though she wanted to hurl herself through the windscreen to escape. I took her hand. If she had been human, she would have been sweating. I gave her hand a comforting squeeze as the porch light came on.

Bronwyn undid her seat belt and half climbed out of the seat.

The front door of the house opened, and her father emerged.

She got out of the car and stood uncertainly by the passenger side door. “Daddy?”

He shielded his eyes against the glare of the porch light.

“Bronwyn?” He smiled and gestured toward the figure that stood behind him in the doorway.

“Dad!” Bronwyn jogged up the footpath and leapt over the front gate.

He held out his arms for her, and she launched herself into them, hugging him with energy that I’m sure left him breathless. Her mother stood uncertainly behind them. I smiled when Bronwyn and her father both extended their arms and drew Mrs. Hunter into their embrace.

They stood like that for some immeasurable period of time, simply taking comfort in each other’s presence.

Finally, Bronwyn pulled back from their embrace and spoke for moment. She looked down at the concrete of the porch floor, arms crossed, clearly uncomfortable. She gestured toward the car, and then looked up at them. They frowned. She turned toward me in mute appeal, so I got out of the car.

Things looked like they were not going well, but I had half expected that. Bronwyn had not come crawling back to them, as they had obviously thought she would, she had lived without them for more than a year. Even though she looked repentant, they clearly didn’t fully trust her and they would all have to work to repair the relationship between them. I wondered what they had said on the last night she had gone out looking for me. I hadn’t found that part out from my exploration of Bronwyn, only that she needed to go to them.

Bronwyn signaled for me to come over, so I closed the car door and walked up the path to the front gate. Unlike Bronwyn, I didn’t leap over it, I undid the latch, let myself through, and closed it behind me.

I walked up to them and could feel their eyes resting on me, not with hostility, but full of curiosity, uncomfortable.

The silence stretched out as I came to stand beside Bronwyn, touching her back with a gentle hand. I could sense the turmoil coming off her in waves.

“Hello. I’m Carlisle Crowley.” I held out my hand out to Bronwyn’s father, not really expecting him to take it.

Much to my surprise, he shook it with a firm grip. “James Hunter. This is my wife Eloise.” Bronwyn’s mother also came forward to shake my hand, her grip nowhere near as firm as her husband’s.

“Pleased to meet you.”

I studied them in the awkward silence. They had aged gracefully in the thirteen years since I had first met them. Bronwyn’s father was now a handsome, distinguished man, mercifully free of middle-aged weight gain. He obviously kept himself physically active. Bronwyn’s mother had not been so fortunate. She had thickened a little around the waist. Their eyes remained trained on me, not exactly hostile, but not exactly friendly either.

James Hunter brow creased, spark of recognition flaring in his eyes. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

I opened my mouth, but was cut off by Bronwyn’s quick response.

“You should know her. She brought me home when I was five years old. Remember that time when I went exploring, and you got so worried you were about to call the police?”

I could see the wheels turning behind their eyes as they studied me.

“I remember that night,” Eloise said. “It always seemed like a bad dream.”

Bronwyn looked at her as though she’d lost her mind. “It was real and she’s real. My one and only angel.” She glanced at me, and she would have smiled had she not been so tense.

“I’ve been real as long as I’ve been alive.” I smiled, careful to conceal my fangs.

“So I see. So this,” Eloise Hunter waved her hand at me, “is the reason for your bad behavior.”

Bronwyn and I exchanged a glance.

“Well, yes,” Bronwyn said.

I sent gentle reassurance to her, trying to cut through the whirl-pool of negative emotion spilling out of her. Their anger didn’t faze me. My parents had been furious on occasion, but they had loved me, and we had made it through all kinds of disagreements. Bronwyn straightened, so our bodies lightly touched, her chin firmed, but her arms remained crossed. She looked her mother in the eye.

Eloise Hunter returned her stare with something that was now openly hostile. “And this is supposed to excuse everything.”

“No, Mum, it’s not.” Bronwyn sighed. “Enough of this. You’re really fucking pissing me off. Do you want to sit down and talk like rational people or do you want to scream at me some more? I’m not a child anymore.”

Eloise’s face darkened with anger, and she drew in breath to say something that undoubtedly wouldn’t be nice. James Hunter laid a restraining hand on her arm. He was much calmer than she was, so his mind was more open to whatever Bronwyn had to say to them. He also cast a glance at Bronwyn, nowhere near as angry as her mother, thanks to the reassurance and support I was giving to her. James seemed to be the peacekeeper between the two of them.

He cleared his throat. “Why don’t we go inside and have a cup of tea and try to talk this through?”

Bronwyn and her mother glared at each other.

Her parents stared each other down in a real battle of wills, which James eventually won. Eloise dropped her eyes from his, settling for glaring at the welcome mat in front of the door.

“Sure, why not?” Bronwyn said.

“Good,” her father said, holding open the ornate screen door so that they could all go inside.

I gave Bronwyn a brief, encouraging smile. “I’ll wait for you out here.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” she said. “You’re a major part of this, so you can go right on in there with me.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. This falls into private business between you and your parents.”

The smooth, deep voice of James cut in, a little awkwardly. He looked at me with shrewd eyes. “Are you together with her?”

“Yes, I guess I am,” I said, looking him straight in the eye, brief smile flickering about my lips.

“Well,” he responded, “you should be taking better care of her. She looks like hell, and so do you, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

It was the pale skin and flaming eyes that did it. I exchanged a long suffering look with Bronwyn, and we both sighed.

“After you, Dad.” She gestured toward the front door and then leaned forward to hold it so that he could walk through ahead of us.

I looked out into the clean, night air, giving one last glance to the freedom I, and now Bronwyn, enjoyed. The stars were bright in the clear sky, and a gentle breeze blew, teasing the leaves on the branches of the huge trees across the road. It felt strange to be part of a normal, run of the mill problem, not involving blood, garlic, or wooden stakes.

Although I knew I was about to be yelled at by people who mistook me for a child even though I was old enough to be their parent, I suddenly felt great.

I had my beloved Bronwyn by my side, a beautiful home, a dark night, and a clear eternity.

“Are you coming?” Bronwyn looked at me from the front door, smiling because she had picked up on my sudden feeling of liberation.

I leaned forward, gave her a quick kiss, and stroked her face, feeling her smooth, pale skin. “I love you. Of course I’m right behind you.”

She returned my smile and gave me a hug. “I love you too, my beautiful angel. Let’s get this over with so we can go and enjoy what’s left of the night.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

James Hunter watched us, frowning, but we didn’t care.

We had been through life, death, and Sembur’s tomato patch. What more was there to fear?

Jordan Falconer was born in Sydney, Australia, and from a very young age had an interest in ghoulies, ghosties and long legged beasties and all things that go bump in the night. After surviving Catholic school (twice!) she graduated from Sydney University with an honors degree in Psychology. She currently resides in Canada with her other half and three small, demanding dogs.

Visit the vampire Carlisle Crowley’s My Space page at:
http://www.myspace.com/carlislecrowley
.