By the time I got to Santa Cruz the sun was setting to the west, casting everything in a hazy golden light. The address Vito had given me led me to a small shack with a ramshackle front porch. It was on a large weedy lot next to a motel.
I knocked on the door until my knuckles hurt. I tried to peer through the dirty windows, but heavy black curtains blocked my view. Finally, after I kicked the door a few times, a pale-faced boy with sensuous full lips, black jeans, and no shirt answered the door with a large yawn.
A slow smile spread across his face as he took me in from head to toe, taking in my black leather miniskirt, the buckled boots that stretched up to my thighs and my ripped, too tight Morphine T-shirt.
But I didn’t have time for his admiration. I was in a hurry to give my brother Vito’s message and then get out of town.
“Who are you? Where’s Christopher?” I scowled.
He scratched his belly and yawned again. Then shrugged. “I’m Bobby. Don’t know. He lives here, but I never see him during the day.”
“You don’t know where your housemate is?” My voice dripped antagonism and sarcasm.
“Listen, I just moved in last week. I barely know the dude.” He cracked his knuckles. I stared, waiting.
Then he smiled. “I have to tell you—you don’t seem like his type.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“You aren’t simpering and dumb.” That sounded about right. I stifled a smile.
“I’m his sister.” I narrowed my eyes at him.
He cleared his throat and grew serious. “You’re his sister?”
I chewed my lip and looked away. This was taking way too much time. “Not my fault.”
He laughed and instantly got a point in his favor.
“I need to find him.”
“Like I said, I just moved in here last week so I don’t know him very well.”
“You’re lucky.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Is there something I should know?”
“Probably.” I said blowing out a big puff of air. If this guy didn’t know my brother was bad news he would find out soon enough. “Now, where is he?”
“I really don’t know. Honest. I’m meeting him at the Reverend Horton Heat show later. Around nine. I don’t think he’ll be back in town until then.”
“I need to talk to him now.” I knew I was pouting and sounded like a child. I drew back my shoulders to try to salvage some dignity.
The boy shrugged. “Sorry.” He looked over his shoulder. “You hungry? I just made some lentils and brown rice.”
Of course he did. I tilted my head, examining him.
“You’ve got to eat, right? Plus, you have a few hours to kill. He’s not going to be back until nine. I know that. He said he was going somewhere his cell phone didn’t work. The mountains around here … spotty cell service, so probably up there somewhere.” He yawned again and stretched his arms above his head.
I wasn’t hungry. At least not for food. I eyed his smooth, tanned, hairless chest and followed the faintest trail of soft hair down to where it dipped into his jeans. He was beautiful. A slow smile spread across my face. “Looks like I have some time to kill.”
I put my palm on his chest and pushed him inside the darkened house.
Bobby led me by the hand through the crowd outside The Catalyst. He was a sweet boy. I wondered what was wrong with him — something had to be off for him to have moved in with my brother. At the very least he lacked the ability to sense a clear-and-present danger—in both me and Christopher. We both screamed “damaged” from miles away.
People snarled as Bobby wove his way through the crowd, holding my hand close so I was right behind him. I rolled my eyes at the angry faces that turned our way. I searched the crowd for Christopher.
A jolt ran through me when I spotted him. He’d always had that effect on me, even across a crowd. I held my breath as I took him in.
His black hair was bleached a shocking white blond. He’d lined his dark eyes with heavy kohl and wore a flowing white poet’s blouse with tight black jeans and tall boots. He was surrounded by a group of vampire wannabes with white faces, red lips and black capes flowing behind them. The girl on his arm had her black hair pulled up on top of her head in a sexy, messy up-do. Her tiny rouge lips pouted at something Christopher was saying.
She was just his type: adoring and clueless. Or “simpering and dumb,” as Bobby had said.
The girl turned to face him, reaching up and wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing her body close to his. When he leaned down to kiss her, I blushed at how obscene it seemed. He groped her as if they were alone, unclasping her black velvet cape and throwing it on the ground. A stunning blue tattoo of gothic bat wings sprawled across her ivory shoulders.
His smile was seductive, but even across the crowd I recognized the disdain in his gaze as he looked down on the girl.
As far as I knew my brother had only loved two people in his life: our mother and Bridget. He would never love another. I wanted to warn her. My Budo karate training had taught me to protect the innocent.
We look at the world the way a warrior would. We actively observe and seek to become aware and vigilant. We remain on guard and ready to fight for the purposes of good — in defense of life and liberty for ourselves and others. The warrior stands up for those who are weak, for the innocent, for the vulnerable.
Budo required that I warn her. But I knew it wouldn’t matter.
“There they are,” Bobby said with a hint of something odd in his voice. I wondered if he was afraid of Christopher. I wouldn’t blame him. I let go of his hand as we approached my brother and went on ahead. I stood before my brother and waited until he moved the girl out from between us.
“Gia.” Christopher’s voice was flat, monotone. Just like his dead eyes.
“Can I talk to you? Privately.” The girl, who stood off to his side, clinging to his arm possessively, glared at me. I felt sorry for her. From what my godfather had hinted at, she’d be lucky to escape his clutches with just a broken heart.
“Inside,” he said. Then Bobby was at my side and put his arm around me. Christopher gave Bobby a look I couldn’t read. Was it a warning or a threat? Christopher turned on his heel and the small crowd surrounding my brother followed. At the door, Christopher gave a nearly imperceptible nod and the doorman unsnapped the red rope.
We filed in, following Christopher, who headed to a slightly elevated large table in the corner with probably the best view in the place. Every other spot was taken but for some reason this table, with enough seats for Christopher’s gang of vampire enthusiasts, was waiting. Christopher nodded at a security guard who briefly lifted his chin before walking away.
A waitress appeared at Christopher’s side. Bobby sat down beside me but I quickly moved to a seat on the other side. He was playing with fire. I tried to give him a warning glance, but he wouldn’t look my way, just stared at Christopher with a defiant lift to his chin. The vampire kids began ordering drinks.
Christopher looked at me from beneath slightly hooded eyes. “What do you want, Gia?”
“I said I need to talk to you. Alone.” My voice was steel.
He stood. “This way.”
I followed him through the crowd to the entrance to backstage. The security guard manning the entrance didn’t even blink as Christopher and I strolled by. A long hallway led to a series of closed doors. Christopher opened one and gestured for me to enter first.
He plopped onto a ratty couch, opened his gothic ring and dipped a long pinky nail into it, holding a bit of white powder up to his nose.
“Want a bump?”
I ignored his outstretched hand.
“What? You too good for it now or something?”
“What’s up with the vampire thing?” I asked.
“You wouldn’t understand,” he said and gave me a slow smile, which revealed pointy incisors that looked real. He watched me as he ran his tongue along his teeth. I kept my face deadpan. Vampire worship and emulation was so 1990s. Bored that he couldn’t get a reaction, he shrugged and crossed his legs.
“What about that girl you’re with? She seems sweet, innocent.”
“Oh, she is.” He looked down and swallowed and for a moment I again saw the little boy who worshipped my mother. He shook his head.
“So, are you just going to break her heart like every other girl since Bridget?”
He flew off the couch so quickly I shrunk back, heart pounding. He had his elbow against my neck and my back against the wall. His eyes were inches away from mine. “What kind of game are you playing?”
I didn’t answer—just stared into his dead eyes.
“Don’t ever fucking say her name again.” He growled it through gritted teeth. I didn’t answer, even though it would only take a slight movement to disable him with a kick to the crotch. I wanted him to calm down. When I didn’t move or answer, he finally relaxed and sat back down.
“Besides Gia, don’t you know we are cursed in love? There’s no use in fighting it.”
For a split second, my brother — the one my mother loved so much — appeared. He sounded like a normal person, like someone who was caring and rational. And then he was gone. He whirled and gave me a leer.
“So, what’s new with you, Gia? Are you already bored in the big city? Come down here slumming.”
“I came to give you a message,” I said.
“What on earth are you talking about?” His voice was silky and seductive, but held a hint of warning, danger.
“You’ve got to knock your shit off, Christopher.” He genuinely looked baffled. “With the girls,” I said. “I don’t know exactly what you are doing, but Vito said if you don’t stop, he’s going to stop it for you.”
“Oh. That.” He squirmed despite himself. Vito might be the only person in the world who intimidated Christopher. He still tried to pull off the tough guy act, though. “That old bag of bones? What’s he going to do?”
“He said if he has to, he’ll stop you himself.”
Christopher managed a low laugh, but it was laced with the slightest hint of fear.
“If you stop whatever you’re doing … he’ll leave you alone,” I reached over to his hip and unclipped his cell phone. “Call him. Now. He knows everything you do, Christopher. He knows it all. If you call him and tell him you’ll stop, he’ll leave you alone.”
I leaned over him, holding out his phone.
“Oh, the perfect Gia, swooping in to save the day. The little Italian princess is so valiant in saving her brother. Well, fuck you.”
I let out a long breath. “Just call him. This has nothing to do with me. The only reason I’m here is for our mother.”
Fury swept across his face. “How precious.” His voice was filled with venom. “Well I have news for you. Our mother is dead. Dead in the ground. She’s not up in heaven looking down with pride at her little girl so if you’re doing anything for her, you’re a fool and wasting your time.”
His words were like a punch to the gut. I closed my eyes for a second so I could regain my composure. The last thing I would do is show him any weakness.
To my surprise, he reached for the phone in my hand and dialed.
A few seconds later, he spoke. I remained standing over him, frozen, afraid if I moved he would change his mind.
“Okay, old man. I’ll stop. For now.” The conversation lasted less than five seconds. He hung up and slid his fingers along my bare thigh.
“Looking good, sis.”
I slapped him across one smooth, chiseled cheek, but he didn’t even flinch, only gave me another slow smile. I walked out without looking back.
In a near panic, I fought my way through the crowd that was madly hopping up and down to the Reverend Horton Heat. The squirming mass was illuminated sporadically by flickering lights from the stage, making me disoriented as I pushed toward the door. The air seemed to be sucked out of the club by the frenetic energy and I fought to breathe as I pushed my way through the sweaty, bopping bodies that were bumping me this way and that. Finally, I broke free and flung open the door to the fresh night air.
I put my hands on my knees to try to catch my breath. My entire body shook uncontrollably. Christopher always had that effect on me. It was terrible to realize, but as much as I hated him, a tiny part of me, deep down inside loved him. That’s why it hurt so much. They say that love and hate are two sides of the same coin. Maybe the part of me that loved him came from my mother. Even if I despised him with every other part of my being, that small piece of me couldn’t get rid of images of his beaming face when he was with my mother. She was his life.
Unfortunately, when she died, anything that kept him in line, toeing the boundaries of society, also seemed to have disappeared. I didn’t know what he was up to in Santa Cruz, but the possibilities sent a chill through me.
My thoughts were interrupted by a blast of music as the door to the club opened. The next thing I knew Bobby had me pressed close against the wall, kissing me so fiercely it took my breath away. All thoughts of Christopher vanished. It was hard to believe I’d only met this boy a few hours ago. Usually all I wanted to do after sex was say goodbye and never see the guy again. But for some reason, I just wanted to crawl in this boy’s pocket and go home with him. Finally, I pulled away and turned to go.
“Hey.” He grabbed my hand and gently pulled me back to him. “Give me your number.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I looked away, down the street where the fog was rolling in from the ocean, making the street lights hazy orange. I didn’t have time for a boy in my life. Especially not this one. The strength of my attraction to him was dangerous. Unwanted.
“Come on.” His voice was soft, irresistible. He kissed the sides of my lips so gently, he nearly convinced me. I pulled away.
“I live in San Francisco.” That should be enough of a deterrent.
“Great,” he said, reaching down and slowly running his thumb over my lips. “I’m graduating from U.C. this year and moving to the city. I’ll call you next summer when I move. Maybe you can show me around.”
“You’ll have forgotten me by then.” My smile was teasing but I meant every word. A year was a lifetime.
He put his hands on both sides of my head and drew me in close, eyes searching mine. “I could never forget you.”
It was probably a mistake, but I scribbled my number on a scrap of paper. He’d forget about me in a year. I pressed the paper into his hands.
“Whatever you do, don’t ever let my brother know I gave it to you.”
I turned and walked away before he could answer.