Chasing Midnight (Dark of Night Book 2) (10 page)

SHANE

Isabel was standing, staring into the fridge like she was trying to find Narnia on the other side.

“You okay?”

She shook her head. “There is not a scrap of food in this entire house.”

Shane shrugged. “What’s new?”

“It’s just that,” she bit down on her bottom lip, “what will we take on our picnic?”

“We can run by Bubba Sly’s and pick something up on the way,” he offered, reaching past her to grab a blood bag off the top shelf.

She plucked it from his fingers, turned, and grabbed a large mug from the cabinet, a real mug, then looked at him. “Do you want this warmed up?”

“Um, sure.”

She carefully cut the corner of the bag, emptying it into the travel mug before setting it in the microwave and hitting the button.

Shane stared at her, half amazed. She hated when he used the real cups, and she had never once asked to help him prepare his breakfast. Just watching him drink it made her uncomfortable. Now here she was, warming it up for him. He was still gaping at her when the buzzer chimed and she retrieved the mug. She blew across the top once, as if testing the temperature before handing it to him.

“What?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“You can’t normally stand the sight of this, that’s all.”

She looked away when she answered, “I guess I’m getting used to it.”

“Guess so.”

Truth be told, Shane was pretty pleased at her sudden change of attitude regarding his diet. He’d always felt sort of awkward and uncomfortable drinking around her before. But now, he felt more normal. More at ease. He took a long, deep drink, watching her over the edge of the cup as he did. She didn’t shudder, blink, or look away. She just smiled, grabbing a bottle of tea for herself.

“So where are we going to picnic?” Shane asked between drinks.

“Well, I was thinking we could go to Moultrie Park. Then we can go over to Folly Beach.”

“That sounds fine. It’s a little overcast today, might even rain later.”

“I don’t mind a little rain.” Isabel smiled, and it made Shane rock back on his heels. She looked so happy, so vibrant. He hadn’t seen her smile like that in a long time. It was nice.

“Well, alright then. I’ll grab my wallet. You close up the shop.”

She nodded and practically bounced out of the kitchen. They met up a few minutes later by her car. She tossed him the keys.

“You want me to drive?” Shane asked, amazement thick in his voice.

“Well, you know.” Isabel motioned to her bandaged head.

“Ah, yes. Better safe than sorry, I suppose.” They drove the few blocks over to Bubba Sly’s Deli.

“I’ll wait here. You order for me. You know what I like,” Isabel said when they got to the parking lot.

“Alright. Be right back.”

“I’ll be here,” she said with a grin.

The deli was slow, probably because it was only nine in the morning, but Shane was able to order quickly without having to wait in line. As he walked the bag of grub back to the car, he saw that Isabel was staring at herself in the visor mirror and talking to herself again. His pace slowed. He wanted to try to hear what she was saying before she noticed him.

“Of course not. That’s nonsense. Why would you even think that?” she said, sounding flustered. Then she turned. Seeing him approach, she slammed up the visor.

Shane slid into the car, handing her the paper sack. “Everything okay?”

“Fine.”

“You were talking to yourself again.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, waiting to see her reaction.

She pointed to her head. “Concussion.”

“Crazy, maybe.”

She shrugged. “That too.”

The park was nearly empty. It was a crisp October day. The leaves had turned a burnt, golden orange, making the light streaming through the branches warm like honey. Isabel picked a large oak tree and spread out a plaid blanket. She sat down, leaning back on her elbows.

“You hungry?”

Her stomach growled. “Guess so. What did you bring me?”

“The usual, a foot-long Cheesesteak and a side of salt and vinegar chips. Oh and,” he drew a bottle out of the sack, holding it out like it was a bottle of wine, “a bottle of their finest diet soda.”

“Thanks.” She beamed like it was actually wine and took it, setting it gently beside her. Sitting up, she crossed her legs under her and unwrapped her sandwich. She looked at it curiously, lifting the bread open to examine the insides.

“Everything okay?” Shane asked around a mouthful of his own meatball sub.

She looked up, blinking. “Yes. I just… peppers.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And? You love peppers. You eat them all the time.”

“I… right, yeah. Of course. Sorry, my brain went fuzzy for a second. Must be the concussion.” She raised the sandwich and took a small, cautious bite. Her eyes flew open. “It’s really good.” She swallowed, wiped her mouth with the napkin on her knee, and took another tiny bite.

“Wow, you hit your head really hard, huh?” Shane muttered, still unable to stop staring at her. It was a good thing she’d convinced him to stay with her today. She was definitely not acting like herself. She was so… rattled. Almost demure. It was sort of cute. It was a side of her he hadn’t seen… well, ever.

“So listen, I know we haven’t had a chance to talk about this, but Mercy is getting released soon.” Shane took another bite. He wasn’t sure how Isabel was going to react to that news, and he wasn’t sure what reaction would make him happy.

Isabel set her sandwich in her lap. She puckered her lips, narrowing her eyes like she’d just taken a bite of something really sour. Then she sighed. “Are you in love with her?”

He almost choked on his sub. Taking a quick drink of soda, he pounded on his chest, drawing out the cough just a little to give himself a few seconds to think about his response. Of all the things he imagined Isabel would say, that wasn’t one of them. “In love, with Mercy? No. No.”

“Then why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you
…
you kno
w
. With her?”

“I suppose it was just because I was lonely and she seemed to dig me, fangs and all.”

She frowned. “That’s not a good reason. It really hurt me. Seeing you with her like that.”

It was like being punched in the stomach. Isabel was sitting perfectly still, her head down, a stray rope of hair falling free of her bun. Shane reached over, tucking it behind her ear. “I’m so sorry, Isabel. I never meant to hurt you. I guess I just thought… that you didn’t care anymore. You never said anything.”

She looked up, her smile sad. “No, of course I didn’t. I wouldn’t, would I? Too proud, too stubborn. But I did care. I do care. I just want you to be happy. That’s why I kept quiet. I just… if she’s important to you, then I can find a way to make it work. I’ll try…”

Shane cut in. “No, that’s not necessary. After what she did to you, I’m never letting her anywhere near you again.”

Isabel looked smug. Shane laughed at her reaction. She hoisted her large sandwich and took a mouse-like nibble.

“Are you going to eat that or just scare it?”

Isabel rolled her eyes and dove in, taking a massive bite. When she pulled the sandwich away, a string of white cheese stretched out, finally snapping and dangling off her chin. She dropped the sandwich in her lap and grabbed for the napkins, but Shane beat her to it. He was still laughing as he carefully wiped the cheese from her face. When his fingertips grazed her skin, her face flamed crimson and she looked away uncomfortably.

She hadn’t blushed like that since their first date.

“What?” she asked as he stared at her. “Did you get it all?” She wiped her face again.

“No. I mean, yeah, you’re fine. It’s just… I haven’t seen you so relaxed in a long time. It suits you.”

She laughed. “Maybe I should hit my head more often.”

“Not to deflate that theory, but you already hit your head often enough, okay?”

They finished lunch and Isabel ran to the car, returning with two small bundles. She held one out to him. He took it, confused.

“Kites?”

“What? We have a good breeze.”

“Yeah, but where did you get them?”

“I ran into the drug store while you were getting lunch. I was looking for a Frisbee or something, and I found these. Fun, huh?” She shook them proudly.

“Um, yeah. Fun.”

She snatched the kite back. “Here, let me.”

With patience Shane never knew she possessed, Isabel carefully assembled the frames and tied the strings. Finally, she handed the finished kite to Shane. “Here. Take her up.”

He saluted and moved to a clearing in the park. She was right; the breeze was perfect and with little coaxing, the silly yellow and black kite soared into the air.

Isabel moved next to him, releasing her own kite into the sky. Hers was black and white, a cow-like pattern with a long tail. She let out line and the kite rose higher, past Shane’s. She watched it dance, her face glowing in the sunshine. Shane watched her, completely ignoring his own kite.

She reached over, grabbing his arm with one hand. “Shane!”

He looked up. His kite was diving for the ground. He tugged the string and it climbed back up. In the distance, something rumbled, and then there was a faint crack.

He pointed to the horizon. “Lightning. We should probably bring these down.”

“Here,” she thrust her string out to him, “hold this a second.”

He took it in his free hand. Isabel turned, digging into his front pocket. For a moment, he was sure she was about to get frisky, but her hand came up with his pocketknife in it. She opened it carefully.

“Here.” Cutting through the strings, she released both kites into the stratosphere. She watched as they faded until they were barely dots in the sky. Folding the knife back up, she held it out to him.

“Why’d you do that?”

“It didn’t seem fair to let them fly so high only to bring them back down here and pack them away.” Her voice was soft, distant. Sad.

The urge to put his arm around her was strong, his desire to comfort her pushed at him like a nagging itch. Shane had never seen Isabel looking so frail, so lost. But things had been so strained between them lately. Guilt ate away at him. He’d been so sure she was fine that he didn’t bother to ask. Isabel was so strong, so in control, he never thought… and who was he to comfort her now? Now, when so much of the pain in her life was his fault? He clenched his hand, trying to decide whether he should reach out. But in a heartbeat, it was too late.

She turned, forcing a smile. “If we’re going to go to the beach, we should go, before the storm hits.”

He nodded, motioning for the car. She waited for him to take the lead, and then followed in step behind. That was when he realized something was really wrong.

They drove to the beach in silence. She had rolled the window down and stuck her arm out, wiggling her fingers as the wind beat against them. Her head lulled to the side, her eyes closed, as if she were just soaking up the sensation of it.

Shane tried to keep his eyes on the road, but it was hard. He’d heard stories about people with head injuries having memory problems, but whole personality changes? Maybe. Of course, it was possible that the stress she’d been under had finally taken its toll…

Still, it wasn’t Xavier she’d asked to spend the day with, though Shane knew he’d have been only too happy to fill those shoes. It was him. She wanted to spend a day relaxing with him. They were finally making progress. Maybe it was partly because of the concussion, but maybe it was more. She was finally being completely honest about her feelings, holding nothing back. It was as if the steely armor she normally wore had been stripped away and he was getting a glimpse of what was underneath.

Or maybe he was just seeing what he wanted to see. Maybe he was just projecting his own hopes on a delicate situation. He sighed, gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white. On top of everything, he was still brooding about the file Isabel’s father had compiled on Xavier. How much had he discovered and why did he begin investigating Xavier in the first place? And more importantly, did it have anything to do with his death? Shane pushed the speculation away. He’d deliver the file to Xavier in the morning, then he planned to head to the estate and poke around. Maybe there would be something that would make Xavier’s urgency make sense. Maybe Shane would find something that would help Isabel see Xavier for what he really was.