House Wyndham Vampires: Half Light Part 11

But Craft had his hand on my arm. It wasn't a tight grip, and I knew I could break his grip if I wanted. But the look in his eyes stopped me. "Carly-"

"I have to go and explain things to him."

"But you have to tell him the truth. You can't lie. If you lie, then he'll be vulnerable. He has to know what it is he's dealing with-what you are. What Michel is."

"I can't tell him that, Craft!" I shouted and then stepped back and wrenched my arm away as eyes in the coffee shop found me. "If I told him that, Father would be all over me."

"The Baron would understand, Carly," Craft said and then tossed back his coffee. He stood and zipped up his coat. "Ready?"

"Ready?"

"I'm gonna go with you. If you're going to head out and make a fool of yourself and Jared can't be around, then I'll have to make sure you're safe."

I gave him a withering look but deep down I was glad he wanted to go with me. I figured he could help me explain everything. Seemed fair.

Once we were outside, I noticed the dark clouds moving in. We were in for rain-I could smell it in the air. And it was going to be a storm. I sniffed again and caught Brandon's scent. He'd headed off down the path, the same one he'd been attacked on.

I motioned for Craft to follow me and we jogged around the side of the building, and then to my surprise, he kept up with me as we ran down toward the woods. I guess being a Ghoul did have its advantages.

I spotted Brandon standing in the middle of the path, his hands in his pockets. He was looking at the stream. He turned as we approached, his expression unreadable.

"Brandon- "

"I figured out the whole Go Away vibe now. You're getting married. But I was too stupid to realize someone as beautiful and nice as you wouldn't normally make friends with an idiot like me. G.o.d I was so blind-"

"Brandon no," I finally managed to squeak out. "It's not what you think. Please-come talk to me. Let me explain-"

"No!" He said and pointed at me, and then pointed at Craft. "And you-you better run, guy. I don't think the creep she's marrying will like you hanging around-"

"Well look at this," Heather's voice cut through Brandon's tirade.

Heather appeared to our right, standing among the trees. And beside her was Paoli, Jack, and the one I didn't know. To the left two more guys in sweaters and leather jackets appeared, seeming to melt out of the woods. I didn't know them either.

"Hey Fleetwood," Paoli called out. "We got a score to settle." He looked at me and Craft, particularly setting his gaze on the Ghoul. "And I know just who to blame it on."

Brandon turned to face his previous attackers. He looked directly at Paoli. "You really don't want to do this again, a.s.s-wipe. The police already know you tried to kill me once-"

"Kill you?" Paoli laughed. "We didn't try to kill you. What a crock of s.h.i.t. Look at you-" and he pointed at Brandon. "Not a scratch on you. But us," he pointed to his own healing face. "Jack and me-we somehow ended up on our a.s.ses. So my thought is, you were faking it the whole time. And then you jumped us when we weren't looking."

"Wow," Craft said behind me. His tone really was full of incredulity. Only, it wasn't in a very flattering way for them. "You really are that stupid, aren't you?"

"Oh shut up," Heather said and waved her hand in a dismissive way. She was looking at me. "So...you're engaged to be married while at the same time stealing my boyfriend."

"I'm not your boyfriend," Brandon said as he turned to her. "We're not doing this, Heather. So take your boy toys and get the h.e.l.l out of here. Now."

"Oh?" She shifted her gaze from me to Brandon. "Since when do you command the respect and authority to order me or anyone else around. You lost the game for us last night."

"No, we lost because they're a better team."

She moved in closer to him. The slight incline of the hill she stood on put her almost even with his chin as she poked at his chest with a pointy finger. "No, we lost because you got these guys suspended off the team, a.s.shole. So I say that's your fault."

I started to move forward with the intent of a mama-bull ready to defend her young when I felt Craft's hand on my shoulder. He squeezed once and I took that as a silent wait.

"So, let me see if I'm following you..."

That's when I felt another presence. Heard a heartbeat. The appearance of it wasn't as odd as the fact that I believed Craft heard it first. This was human. Strong. And he had the aura of power about him. Someone in authority. I looked away from the others and scanned the woods. He was there, definitely male, standing just inside the trees.

Brandon was talking. "...you three attacked me, here in the woods. You somehow failed. And because you were caught and suspended, we lost the game. That's my fault?"

"d.a.m.n straight." Paoli started cracking his knuckles. "Okay this is pointless. I don't care who that a.s.shole is behind you-we have scores to settle-"

I watched Brandon move back toward me. He was in front of me, Craft was behind me. I was flanked and protected. But I didn't want either of them to get hurt, Brandon more so as Craft had that little "extra" ability of being part of the Undead.

"Not tonight you don't, Paoli," came the voice of the presence I'd sensed. The voice matched the aura of power around this man as he became visible to me.

He was maybe in his late thirties. Tall, squared shouldered, with prematurely graying hair around his temples and a strong jaw. His eyes were shadowed in the darkness, even from my own preternatural sight. He wore jeans, sneakers, and a thicker, larger version of the Letter jacket the others wore. But a name was embroidered over the left breast. A t.i.tle of importance to all of them.

Coach.

Brandon, Jack, Paoli, and the other three guys all straightened as if an electric current had ripped through their backs. They turned to watch this Coach stride into the circle and stand beside Brandon. He put a hand on his shoulder. "You okay, son?"

Brandon nodded. "Yeah I'm good, Coach Sanders."

So this is their football coach?

Craft's hand on my shoulder tensed. Was he sensing something about this man? It was almost a...dominating feeling. As if he was not to be toyed with. By anyone or anything.

Sanders turned to the others. "Heather-I'm pretty sure your mother wouldn't like knowing you were hanging out with a trio of boys, would she? I think you might want to find your way home."

She sneered at him, shot me a parting look, and then turned and ran back over the stream into the woods.

"Coach-"

"Can it, Paoli. You five-in my office Monday morning. We're going to be looking at what cla.s.ses are available to fill your gym time for the rest of the season."

All three of them stared wide eyed. "What-what do you mean?" Jack stammered.

"I mean you're all off the team. Now get the h.e.l.l out of my sight before I have you expelled. Go!"

All three of them turned and took off running down the path Heather had taken.

Wow. I pursed my lips in impressed bliss. This guy really was an alpha in a lot of ways. But, I also figured, if you're having to train and wrangle a group of teenage boys-maybe you have to be the meaty one.

Sanders turned and looked at Brandon again before his gaze shifted to me, and then to Craft. I could see his eyes now. They were dark and hard to read. I felt like I was being sized up for a killing jar. But he was human-I could hear his heart beating strong and steady. "I'm afraid I don't know the two of you. You attend Lakeside?"

"Oh no," I shook my head. "I'm homeschooled. My name's Carly Piper. Brandon and I met at the coffee shop. He needed tutoring."

"Oh-" Sanders glanced back at Brandon. "Appleton not working out like I thought he would?"

Brandon shook his head but didn't look at me. "No sir. Miss Piper's...she's much better."

"I see," Sanders then looked at Craft. "And you?"

"I work for Miss Wynd-Piper's family."

"Not a high school student?"

"No sir."

"You look young enough."

"I'm a bit older than I look."

Sanders nodded slowly and narrowed his eyes. "You got a license for that?"

License? For what? I turned to look at Craft. His expression was unreadable. He nodded to the man.

"Yes sir I do."

"May I see it?"

Thunder rolled along the sky overhead as Craft reached into his back pocket to get his wallet. When his jacket opened I saw the gun. When had he put that on? And why did he have one in the first place?

Sanders took the small card. Frowned at it. "Craft Hood? That's your name?"

"Yes sir."

"Lemme see your driver's license." He waited as Craft handed it to him, and then frowned. "Says here you're twenty-one."

"Yes sir."

But Sanders was looking at Craft with a strange frown. Thunder cracked again and I looked up at the swiftly moving dark clouds.

After a few tense seconds he handed both the driver's and the gun licenses back to Craft. "Looks in order. I find it odd though-you with these kids-carrying concealed. Seems a bit-"

"It's my job, sir," Craft said as he replaced the cards in the wallet, and the wallet in his back pocket. "I look after Miss-Piper."

Sanders seemed to accept it, but I had my doubts. The whole time he was with us I kept getting the feeling he was studying us. Us, not Brandon. It was kinda icky.

And then he turned back to Brandon and put a hand on his jaw, turned his face from side to side. "They didn't lay a hand on you this time either."

I had the sneakiest suspicion this guy wasn't looking for bruises....but for something else.

Lightening lit up the sky, followed by more thunder. "No sir. Luckily you showed up."

"Yes. I did." He stepped away but his expression still looked-odd. "Brandon, you be careful. Understand me? Paoli and his gang aren't the real problem. But they are a hindrance. They bother you again, you tell me."

Brandon looked a bit embarra.s.sed and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Okay Coach."

"And don't sweat the game. We'd have lost with or without Paoli and company. They were a better team-always have been. So let's just rest and we'll start worrying about the Homecoming game on Monday." He nodded to me and then his gaze lingered on Craft before he turned and headed back into the woods.

"Well-that was weird," I blurted out, my gaze still following the heartbeat of that very strange man.

"I'll say." Craft scratched his head. "Hey, Fleetwood, don't run off."

"I don't have any reason to stay-"

"Please," I said quickly before he could finish. "Brandon-look at me."

He was still turned away, hands in the pockets of his jacket. "Carly-I'm feeling humiliated enough right now-"

"Not by me," I insisted and took a step closer. "We need to talk."

He half turned and glanced at Craft. "So you're a body-guard, huh? I take it Miss Piper here's a little more well off than she told me. You here to make sure the big bad football player doesn't hurt her?"

Craft bristled and glanced at the sky as it lit up seconds before thunder interrupted us again. "Actually, a.s.shole," Craft crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm here to make sure you listen to Carly. Hear her out and understand what she has to say."

I shot Craft a look that said be invisible. He winked and stepped back. Within seconds he was gone. But I could still hear his heartbeat. Neat trick-and one I'm pretty sure he inherited through Michel's blood. It was well known in the vampire community that the Babineaux bloodline's inherent ability was to bewilder-to make both humans and vampires alike see what they wanted them to see.

Or...not see anything at all.

"Where'd he go?"

"He's around, but he's giving us privacy."

Brandon looked at the ground. But he had turned to face me. "We're going to get wet."

"I don't mind."

"I don't want you to catch cold."

"I won't," I glanced back. "But if it'll help, you can buy me a coffee at the shop."

He shrugged, his head down, shoulders up, hands still in pockets. "Sure." My heart pounded, then leapt into my throat when he was mere inches from me, then crashed as he walked past. With a sigh I followed him.

My old table was empty-in fact the whole place was pretty deserted with only two baristas and no patrons. Sat.u.r.day night-and it was about to storm. As if on cue, thunder shook the surrounding coffee mugs and dishes, clinking them together.

Brandon ordered the coffees and I sat down. I kept my tablet and my phone in the bag and watched him. I had no idea what it was I thought I was going to say. Even though Craft thought I should be truthful, I was sure Jared wouldn't agree. He was just as paranoid as I was about being found out.

Once he had the coffees, Brandon walked them to the table and sat down. At first he sat in the chair opposite me. Then he sighed and shifted to the one beside me. "So we can talk," he said in a quiet voice.

I held the paper cup in my hand. Felt the warmth.

"So..." he said after a very long, very awkward five minutes of looking at the table. "You're engaged."

There wasn't any way around that. "Yes."

"You love him?"