Page 62 of Lair

Mostly, anyway. The glow of Adrian’s fair skin begins to fade, turning chalky and gray, and his grace and power—normally so much a part of him—dims to a strange, halting lethargy. Something in me revolts at what this means and puts it out of mind.

No. It can’t be that.

For no matter the stony looks of disapproval from Jason, we glide along as in a dream, Mrs. Colding bustling contentedly about us. An unforeseen blessing, a sweet, steady trickle of underground feeling, making itself known to me: I have never been happier.

Perhaps this is why I choose to tell him about Josh, one night, as we float in the pool.

I tell him everything. The carefree early days that slowly soured into a miserable fog of mood swings and manipulation. The long punishing silences that would make me beg him to tell me what I did wrong. The resentfulness toward my friends that incrementally and methodically cut me off from the world, and which I tried to remedy with a job as a bartender. The ensuing jealousy. The domestic abuse calls. The time I tried to escape, making it onto the bus before the overwhelming reality of life without Josh came crashing down on me and I had to tell the driver to stop, to let me off, let me go back to him.

The time I finally did escape with Cailee, after Josh raped me, and found my way to Adrian.

He squeezes my hand when I’m done. He’d been squeezing it the whole time I’d been talking, turned away from me with his face screwed up. When I lean over and kiss his temple, he shuts his eyes.

“It’s okay,” I say.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice is rough, though not unkind.

“I don’t know.” I think on it. “I suppose—I suppose I didn’t want you to think I was damaged in some way.” I look down. “And that I thought of you in the same way as Josh. Given, you know, what you are...”

He looks at me then, his eyes strangely bright, and touches my cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I would never treat you like that.”

My heart flutters. I cannot breathe. “I know.”

He’s silent for a moment, staring off at the dark undulations of the sea beyond the pool. “You said Cailee’s in France?” he says at last.

The question takes me aback. “Yeah. She finally scored a gig to the Med. Got dropped off in Antibes after a charter.” I grin despite myself. “About time. Girl was about to lose it if she had to do another milk run to the Bahamas.”

He turns to look at me, a rakish lilt to his lips. “How about we go visit her?”

My jaw drops. “You serious?”

The rakishness reaches his eyes. “We can be there in a few days.”

I splash across the distance between us and into his arms, hugging him tight about the neck. “Thank you,” I rush into his ear. “Thank you thank you thank you.”

He chuckles as I pull back. “Now,” he says, and brushes away a wet thread of hair clinging to my cheek. “I’d like to extend an invitation.”

I cock my head, squinting. “How mysterious.”

His teeth show in a small smile. “Tomorrow night. In the library. I’ll see you at eight.”

I don’t know what to expect. I don’t see him all day. Mrs. Colding asks me to keep myself confined to the master suite, and my bewilderment only deepens. What is going on?

Sensing the seriousness of the occasion, I choose to wear a modest black dress, do up my hair in a tight, shiny coil that leaves a few wisps to hang down and frame my face. Then I sit on the bed and wait.

When eight finally comes, I’m a jangle of nerves.

The Lair is dark when I leave the suite, making me feel like I’m the only one aboard.

But I know that’s not true. I know who’s waiting for me.

My knock on the door is uncertain, timid.

“Come in,” Adrian calls.

I have to blink for a moment, taking it in. The library is ringed in candles, pockets of glowy light amongst the book spines. Adrian stands by the baby grand piano in a dressy shirt, an unsure smile on his lips. Seeing Adrian unsure is almost as scary as seeing his fangs in a woman’s neck.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” he says. I don’t know what the look is on my face, but it makes him glance at the piano and hurriedly add, “This isn’t about Evangeline.” He locks eyes and gestures to a chair. “Please.”

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