chapter six
Thierry rented out an entire section of the dining room of one of the local restaurants for Midsummer's night, but there was nothing extravagant about the action--it was simply a necessity. There were plenty of clubs in the area that catered specifically to Night People, and for every one of those there was one exclusively for their human counterparts, but there was no place particularly designed for both to coexist. And considering their party was largely composed of mixed-species couples, there was nowhere they could have gone publicly without drawing a considerable amount of negative attention. So, a screen had been constructed to cordon off the group from the rest of the customers, and despite plenty of curiosity over the personage who warranted such special treatment and several pairs of prying eyes, they remained generally undisturbed.
Thierry had also requested the establishment's most discrete server for his table, but their waitress seemed more distracted than anything else. The tall, brunette human had yet to make eye contact with anyone.
"I'll have the filet mignon." Quinn snapped his menu shut, offering it up for her to take, and she grabbed it robotically.
"And how would you like that cooked, sir?" The woman's voice was pitched perfectly, lightly pleasantly while remaining impersonal.
"Rare."
The relatively uncommon request caught her interest for possibly the first time that evening, and she paused in the middle of jotting down his order to glance askew at him. "Are you certain? You do understand that the meat will come out rather red and bloody."
"Trust me. I'm sure." Now she was looking at him fully--really looking at him--her whole concentration absorbed. Quinn was undeniably striking; with the appearance of eighteen years, he was trim and compact, dark hair balanced with his pale skin, and unfathomable, lightless eyes. The only thing he was not was human. The whites of her eyes showed all the way around as recognition settled into her expression.
Quinn flashed her a slightly mad, but nonetheless radiant smile.
"Of course, sir," she stammered, dazzled and a little fearful, before assembling as much of her dignity as possible and moving on to the next seat.
Rashel cast a sideways look at the vampire and handed over her menu as well. "Sounds good. I'll have the same."
"Rare?" the server inquired mistrustfully. She was examining the other woman now with the same thoroughness she had Quinn. At forty-two, Rashel was still lovely, body athletic and toned, blazing green eyes, with only a handful of silver strands beginning to weave their way into her dark hair. But she was also positively human, and while Quinn's order could be excused, hers was suspicious.
Rashel grinned, a smile that was not nearly as blinding as her soulmate's but still as intimidating, and tossed in an indifferent shrug for good measure. "Sure. Why not?"
A ripple of laughter ran through the other spectators at the table, and the waitress colored, flustered by the exchange and embarrassed by the attention. But as she continued her orbit around the table, she never again forgot to meet anyone's eyes and she swallowed all comments over unusual orders.
Four seats away from the former vampire slayer, Morgead had kept Marianne engaged in animated conversation through the entire incident. "'Wolf took 'em clean off," he was recounting proudly, proffering his left hand--the one with only three fingers remaining--for her inspection. "I didn't feel a thing."
"Morgead," the redhead at his other side reprimanded him. "If you're going to bore the poor girl with your tired old War stories, you could at least tell her the truth. Admit you cried like a baby."
"I did not," he censured the half-vampire fiercely, then returned his attention to the younger woman. "She's only upset because there was lots of blood. Jezebel's got this thing about blood. She can't stand the sight of it, it makes her queasy or something."
"You know very well I do not have a thing, Morgead Blackthorn," Jez shot back before leaning conspiratorially across him to speak directly to Marianne. "Sometimes," she said underhandedly, "I wish that werewolf had gotten hold of something vital." But any credibility her declaration had was belied by the way she ruffled his hair tenderly as she drew back into her chair.
Marianne smiled at the two warmly, but her heart had fallen to her toes. They reminded her of--well, nearly everyone else at the table excepting herself and Ash. Soulmates were far too happy by and large; it depressing to be in presence of so many at one time.
At the other end of the table, Ash was surveying the conversation vigilantly, though he couldn't distinguish what was being said. Somewhere in the chaotic process of seizing places around the table, he had been stripped of the seat next to Marianne and elbowed down to his current position next to his Harman cousin Thea. "You're her soulmate," Poppy had explained sagely as she had jostled him out of the way, taking the opposite side of Marianne from Morgead. "You get to see her all the time."
Huh. Right.
Truth be told, yes, he had seen a lot of her over the past two days, but the trouble was, he couldn't recall the last time they'd spoken to each other. The others had superseded all his claims to her time, and he'd been reduced to a mere bystander as his sometime friends had monopolized her attention.
Which was something that simply did not sit well him, and Ash was not one to be pushed aside so easily. Unfortunately for the Vegas witches, Marianne would not be attending their celebration of the summer equinox as previously intended. He had devised a last-minute set of arrangements of his own, one that would not include any other members of Thierry's circle, though they didn't know that at the moment. Anticipation to be free of the group made him fidgety, and Thea darted curious glances at him as he toyed uninterested with his dinner. He glared back.
Marianne excused herself halfway through the meal and fled to the restroom. Keller, who had also been surreptitiously observing the teenager the entire time she had been in Thierry's home, cast a glance in her soulmate's direction. Galen smiled encouragingly and his telepathic voice disturbed the surface of her thoughts with the gentleness of a spring breeze, You have my permission. Go on. Have a girl talk.
Keller snorted, directing a glower at him that said she certainly did not do 'girl talk,' pushed her chair back, and trailed Marianne at stalking distance. She stopped a moment at the bathroom door, listening, but she didn't bother to knock before barging in.
Just as she had suspected, Marianne hadn't darted in here to use the facilities. At the moment, the young girl was standing in the middle of the tile floor in front of the sinks, her body wracked in two different directions as she struggled to decide whether to make a dash for a stall or casually pretend to wash her hands. But when she registered Keller instead of some absolute stranger, some of the panic drained away.
"Hey," Marianne greeted her with surprising steadiness. "You won't tell anyone, will you? I needed some time away from of all of that," she fluttered a hand vaguely in the direction of the others. "It's still a bit overwhelming, all of those people who I'm supposed to remember, all talking to me, all wanting something from me." Which wasn't completely a lie.
"As long as you don't tattle on me, either," Keller agreed as she moved further into the room. She braced her hands on the surface of the sink, back to the mirrors, and hoisted herself up to perch on the counter. Marianne stayed in her location across from the shapeshifter, but she did allow herself to lean back against the wall in a more comfortable stance. "I know these people, I care about them--heck, I've even lived with them--but I still need a breather once in a while. I'm not naturally a very sociable person. Being around lots of people makes me nervous." She gave a thin, dry smirk and shook her head slightly. "I know, I know, not a very leader-ly admission. As ruler of the shapeshifters, I'm expected to be present at regular public functions, but that doesn't mean I'm never intimidated." Unconsciously, the hardness melted out of her gray eyes, replaced by dreamy fondness. "Galen says he thinks I've gotten better at it over the years, though…I think he's wrong--not to mention biased."
Keller looked to Marianne to share her humor, but the girl's face was caught in a pensive expression that Keller could already recognize after two days, so often had she already witnessed it. Seriousness slipped back into her demeanor. She had come in here to unearth the dilemma that had been upsetting Ash's soulmate, after all.
"But I get the feeling you don't know what I'm talking about at all," she said, tone grimly soft. "Because they don't really make you uncomfortable. In fact, you like being around us. Which makes me wonder what's truly bothering you."
"I--" Marianne was scrutinizing her exit longingly.
"I could there before you," Keller warned gently. "It's probably best to just say what's on your mind."
Marianne's hands curled at her sides. This was the much hoped for and dreaded chance to unburden the leaden load weighing in her chest. Maybe it was for the best that she wasn't given a choice in the matter because she probably would have bolted otherwise. She closed her eyes and drew a calming breath. "What's it actually like, Keller?"
The question rocked Keller off balance, and she nearly tumbled backwards into the sink, but her exceptional reflexes corrected the momentum so that Marianne never even noticed the movement. "Hmm?" she managed to sound unruffled, though her heart was racing, preparing for the inescapable. "What do you mean?"
"What's it like when you find your soulmate?"
"Oh, um…It's not something that you can put into words that easily. I guess it's kinda like being hit by a train--no, more like knowing you're about to be hit by a train. It's inevitable. Unavoidable. But usually a lot more pleasant than being run over by a large moving vehicle." Apprehension was written in the lines wrinkling her forehead. She was curiously aware of exactly where this conversation was leading. "But it's different for everyone. You know how it is."
"Do I?" Keller got the impression that Marianne didn't see her anymore. This was something she had to talk herself through. "Sure, everything seems right, but sometimes I think that some cosmic force majorly screwed up. I mean, we're all wrong--wrong species, wrong age, wrong temperament. The soul's the right one, the vampire's right, all the right sparks are there, but something's missing. Something just doesn't click. I thought we were typical soulmates when it was just the two of us, but now that I've seen the others, all I know is that we're not like them."
Keller could have sworn. How had things gotten so out of hand so fast? In under a week, all of Marianne's fears and uncertainties about her new state of affairs had been allowed to fester and inflate to the worst possible conclusions, and in that time not one person had thought to sit down with her and set her straight? Well, seeing as Ash was clearly preoccupied with his own issues over his soulmate's return, that left Keller as the nearest available source of advice and comfort.
Which didn't bode well for poor Marianne.
"Personally, I don't see the problem," Keller interrupted, and Marianne blinked, becoming aware of her companion again. "Ash has been staring at you the whole night."
"Not at me. Over my head, at the people around me, anywhere but me. It's obvious how uncomfortable I make him. He's not the same person where I'm concerned, and sometimes I think it would be easier on us both if I simply disappeared off the face of the earth."
Keller made a derisive noise. "Say that to his face and see what his answer is."
"But that's part of the problem--I haven't gotten the chance to. The last time we really got a opportunity to talk was two days ago…and I slammed a door in his face."
"All right, so communication's an issue, but that's nothing that can't be fixed."
"That's only the beginning of it. We're not as close as the others are, not as affectionate. Sometimes he forgets, but more often than not he goes out of his way to avoid touching me…And he hasn't kissed me, which I understand is normally a essential to being soulmates."
Keller gave a short bark of laughter, the sound echoing in the small room. "If that's all that's bothering you, I wouldn't worry too much. You're a modern woman, Marianne--show some initiative, take advantage of him. And viola, problem solved."
"Please, don't make fun of me. It's much more complicated than that from were I'm standing."
"I'm sorry," Keller sobered. "I know it is." She pressed two fingers to her temple, mentally reviewing the conversation, analyzing probable solutions. "Okay, so we've gone over everything that's wrong, but there has to be something that's gone right. Tell me something good, something you liked."
"He made me pancakes. That was…nice."
"Pancakes," Keller said blandly. "Right." There was that nagging urge to laugh again. "We can work from that."
Marianne's lips twisted into a humorless smile. "I never thought that I'd ever have a relationship based solely on pancakes." A strangled sob escaped her throat despite her efforts to stifle it, and she looked terrifyingly close to tears.
Keller felt wretched, praying passionately that Marianne wouldn't cry, because she knew she was lousy at offering comfort, and if the younger girl did break down, she may not be able to give the compassion she deserved. Keller was the mother of three young children now, and those children loved their mother, admired her, emulated her, but when they had a scraped knee or some other grievous injury, they went to their father. She wished vehemently Galen was at her side now to give her advice, women's restroom or not. "Hey," she murmured in her most soothing voice. "It's going to be all right. It's only been five days, after all, you can't expect miracles."
"It doesn't matter." Marianne was crying now, and she mopped furiously at the tears tracking down her cheeks, trying to banish them back where they came. She had escaped to the bathroom to let go where no one could see her, and being so exposed in front of Keller was humiliating. "I get the feeling that no matter what we do, this story just doesn't have a happy ending."
Keller was off the counter in one leap and across the floor in two steps, tugging Marianne into a tentative hug. Just because she was no good at giving comfort didn't mean she was completely devoid of maternal instincts. "Don't say that," she whispered fervently. Each sob shook Marianne's entire frame against Keller's unyielding body. "Don't cry. Please." She was so young, Keller realized with a little bit of astonishment, so much younger than Keller had ever been at seventeen. "There's a saying that, if you're not happy, then it's not the end." Keller imagined her own daughter in the same situation and drew Marianne closer, reconciled with staying that way until she wept herself into exhaustion.
And all the while, she entertained vicious images of pummeling Ash simply for being the source of this heartache.
ººº
Keller opened the door to the restroom, stepped outside, and nearly collided with Ash. He caught her by the forearms and set her firmly back on her feet.
"I can explain," he said guiltily. "I was just--"
"Save it," Keller snapped irritably. She brushed off his hold and reached behind her to push the door closed, hoping that the girl inside hadn't heard his voice, and knowing at the same time that she undoubtedly had. "I don't care." Keller moved to sweep past him, then remembered the crumpled expression on Marianne's face, and gave into her impulse, swinging out an arm to catch him sharply in the shoulder. "Idiot," she snarled.
"Ouch. What--" But Keller was already striding away out of earshot. He watched her go, examining the sore spot where the blow had landed, mystified as to what he had done to deserve it. He shrugged his shoulders, shaking out the pain, and turned back to the door he had been about to approach a moment before. Lifting his hand, he rapped lightly on the wood.
"Marianne?"
"Go away." Her voice was muffled, but not only by the door between them.
"Mare, it's me, Ash."
"I know. Go away."
He rattled the doorknob. He had no intention of barging in on her, but he was not surprised to find it had been locked behind Keller. "C'mon. I want to talk to you."
"Really. That's funny, because I don't want to talk to you."
"I'm serious. Please come out."
"Why should I?"
"Because I don't like talking to doors. Especially ones leading to women's restrooms. And because people are starting to stare at me."
"Good. It serves you right."
"Sweetheart," he said with devastating patience, "did I do something wrong?"
"No. Whatever gave you that idea?" The eye roll was implied.
"If I did something, you could at least have the maturity to come out and discuss it with me face to face."
"I'm a teenage girl, Ash. No one's ever accused me of being mature before."
"All right. You don't have to be mature about it, then. Just, if you're going to throw a temper tantrum, wouldn't it be oh so much more satisfying to come out here and yell at me?"
"When will you get the picture? Maybe I will come out if you go away."
"Too bad. I'm not going anywhere until I see you."
"Stubborn leech."
"That's right," he drawled. "I'm the stubborn one."
"Why won't you leave?"
"Why? Because I've been waiting all night for a chance to get you by yourself, that's why. If you come out, we can go somewhere private to talk. I really think we need to talk."
"I don't want to go anywhere. I'm having a great time here."
"Honey," the endearment turned suddenly sour, "if you're having such a fan-frickin'-tastic time, why are you in the bathroom crying?"
"I am not crying."
"Marianne, I know what you think of my intelligence, but I'm not that slow on the uptake. I can hear you."
"So maybe I'm crying a little. It's only because I'm so happy."
"You're happy," he echoed hollowly. "Then why can't you come out and talk to me about it?"
"Because you wouldn't understand."
"Because I wouldn't…" He slammed his fist into the door, his full preternatural strength behind the blow. Wood splintered and the whole structure rocked on its hinges. Inside, Marianne gasped. His knuckles were bleeding, and he was having difficulty controlling his breathing, the air whistling sharply between his teeth. He shook the doorknob with more violence this time. He could have broken the lock easily if that had been his aim. "Damn it, Marianne. Let me in."
"No," her voice quavered with an emotion that sliced unceremoniously through the cloud of his fury. Fear. Sweet Goddess, she was afraid. Of him.
The tension drained out of his muscles and he leaned his forehead against the door. "I'm sorry," he said haltingly. "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. It's just I'm so…frustrated."
"The feeling's mutual, let me assure you."
"Marianne…" he pleaded. "I didn't come to argue with you. I…I wanted to give you a gift."
There was a pause on the other side, then the door opened a fraction, and her head appeared. Her eyes were red and wet. "You wanted to give me a gift?" she asked skeptically.
"Yes, Goddess help me. Thierry and the others will be leaving soon to go to the Vegas witch coven's Midsummer celebration. I didn't think you were the dancing around fires and collecting herbs at midnight type, so I had something else planned for us."
"Really?"
"Yeah. It was supposed to be a surprise, but I guess that's out of the question now."
The rest of her emerged from behind the barrier. Her face had gone an equally vivid shade of red to match her eyes, an acute mixture of evaporating anger and embarrassment. "Ash, I'm really sorry. I'm such an idiot sometimes. And your hand, you're bleeding--"
He waved his good hand dismissively to cut her off. "It's nothing. Already forgiven. Just--wipe your eyes, okay? I hate it when you cry."
She laughed damply and scrubbed at her face with the back of her hand. "Thierry's not going to be very pleased when he learns he has to pay for the door along with dinner, is he? And they probably won't ever let him back in the restaurant again. All because you and I can't go anywhere without making a big scene."
"Oh, don't worry about it. I'll just tell him the truth--that it was all your fault."
"Was not."
"Was so."
"Was not."
"Was so."
tracing-tt (tanya!)- Your review definitely gave me confidence to write this chapter. I think that it might have more dialogue than all the previous chapters combined! But knowing you approve of how Ash and Mare interact with each other, I wasn't nearly as nervous about how it would turn out
incarnated-soul-Thanks for the advice, and I promise that last scene with all the woman together will be the only one of its kind. I just wanted to show Marianne briefly as part of the larger group. But it was a horror to write!
enchantednight84-Thank you, thank you, thank you! Keep enjoying the story, and I'd love to hear from you again!
Aglaia di Willow-Plot? What plot? Where? You mean there's more to this story than just a blatant showcase of everything Ash?
Charlotte-Oy, I can certainly sympathize. But thank goodness for Labor Day and three day weekends and the breaks they give poor, overworked students. Not to mention the updates they bring!
fate22-I'm so relieved you approve of Hannah and Ash. And I promise to put your characters right back where I found them when I'm done borrowing them. ;) Anyway, as to Mare's parents, they went away because the author thought it would be easier to deal with one seriously distressed aunt than two seriously distressed parents. And because a lot of L.J. Smith's characters seem to be orphans or only have one parent. Have you noticed that? But there will be a brief mention next chapter about how they died.
annonymouse-Cute name! And thanks for the review. It's good to know that there are people out there discovering and enjoying this story. Shamefully, I have to admit that this chapter is probably the last showing the developments of the War--Delos's arm, Morgead's fingers, it was all just meant to reinforce the fact that it wasn't a total victory for the Daybreakers. The rest is more focused on the changes in Ash and Mare's relationship, which I do hope you'll find equally interesting! :)
