Chapter Fourteen: Caldric

The pie was beyond amazing. Second only to her grandmother's, and as she ate it, she was transported back to those days when everything was so simple.

When her life was her own.

And the company was not too bad either.

"Are you sure you don't want some?" Aralyn asked Caldric, who was studiously not watching her as she took one last bite of the pie.

"It's not that I don't want to try some." He pointed at his stomach and made a circular motion. "Things don't move like they used to."

"Okay." She folded the paper bag around the remains of her pie. "That is more information than I need to know."

"They don't teach you that at vampire hunter school?" Caldric asked in mock surprise.

"Well, first, there is no vampire hunter school. And second, my training focused around how to… Well, keeping a vampire in good health is not on the training agenda." Aralyn shrugged.

Caldric chuckled. "You must be taught more than holy water and wooden stakes. And combat, of course."

"Tracking. Stealth. Identification." Aralyn counted off on her fingers, her brow furrowing slightly. "It's not just about direct confrontations. Knowing your enemy means knowing their habits, their hiding places, how they think."

"Ah, so you're more of a vampire detective," he said with an amused glint in his eyes.

"Something like that," she said, a faint smile tugging at her lips despite herself. "Although I don't think ‘detective' quite captures the complete picture. Sometimes it's just legwork and intuition."

"Intuition, you say?" Caldric's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "And what does your intuition tell you about me?"

"I'm still trying to work that one out." Aralyn turned to face him, and he stepped closer as he circled his arm around her waist. She licked her lips, leaning in.

What was she doing? He was the enemy.

But he wasn't. There was nothing about Caldric that screamed danger to her trained instincts. His presence, though undeniably different, didn't set off the alarm bells it should have, and the slight movement felt so natural.

"And your conclusion so far?" Caldric murmured as he brushed his cold fingers against her cheek. She shivered, but not from his cool touch.

In this moment, she wanted nothing more than for him to close the distance between them and kiss her. This might be the first time she had gotten close up to someone like this, outside of a fight, of course. And it felt nice .

"You're different." Aralyn licked her lips and took the initiative. But just as their lips were about to touch, it was as if she had two heartbeats.

There was hers, as familiar as her face in the mirror. And another. It thrummed in her veins, calling to her, beckoning to her. She danced away from him, grabbing his sleeve. "Do you hear that?"

"Music." Caldric looked confused at first. Then he turned his head to one side and narrowed his eyes as if he were trying to pinpoint the sound.

"That must be the band Uncle Burt told me about. Come on." She took his hand, guiding him through the people milling in the street.

Weaving through them, Aralyn felt the music intensify, each note resonating with a part of her soul she had long thought dormant. The melody wasn't haunting, like the one Caldric played on the vinyl. This one was vibrant, full of life that wrapped around her heart and pulled her forward, urging her through the throng of people.

"Aralyn," Caldric's voice cut through the spell, laced with urgency. "This is fae music. It's dangerous."

She turned to face him, her grip on his hand loosening. His eyes were filled with a mixture of concern and sadness. "If you don't want to come, then go home," she said, the words as much a challenge as a dismissal. "But I want to use this rare opportunity to dance. And not that stiff ballroom dancing this time."

Caldric shook his head, the sorrow in his gaze deepening. "It's dangerous."

"I've faced down worse monsters than you. I'm sure I can protect myself," Aralyn insisted.

"Not against this," he replied, his eyes distant, almost as if speaking to himself rather than her.

Ignoring his warning, she sidled up to him, threading her arms around his neck. His body was hard, cold, but his nearness invoked a warmth in her. "Maybe this is what we both need. A night of wild abandonment. For us to find the pieces of us that are...missing."

"Fae music will not bring that part of me back," Caldric said, his voice tinged with regret.

"No, but the music..." She stepped away, holding out her arms and spinning around, letting the notes envelop her. "It might find something new in you. Something you didn't even know you were missing."

As she twirled, the world around her blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. She felt lighter, freer, as if the music were lifting her burdens one by one.

"Aralyn, please," Caldric called after her, his voice almost lost in the rising crescendo. But the music had taken hold of her now, and there was no turning back.

It was as if she were drunk, but not a drop of liquor had touched her lips. The melody spiraled through her veins, igniting every nerve with a sensation she couldn't name. She tilted her head back, eyes half-closed, the starlit sky above blending with the vibrant glow of streetlights and swirling figures around her. She didn't try to fight the intoxicating feeling of the music, instead reveling in it.

"This is a mistake." Caldric's hand was on her arm, guiding her toward the music despite his protest.

"One night," she whispered as the sign for The Lonely Tavern came into view. "One night where we can be something other than ourselves."

"Aralyn." He gripped her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. "We are who we are. And there is no escaping that."

She stood on tiptoes and whispered into his ear, "Tell that to the music."

Then the tavern door opened, and the song grew louder. As she watched his face, she saw the moment it took hold of him, too. His eyes sparked, the resistance in his stance melting away. His caution gone.

Caldric, though he had been stubborn, was now helpless against the enchantment spilling from the open door. The music was a living thing, weaving through the air with a seductive allure too powerful to deny.

Hand in hand, they stepped into The Lonely Tavern.

The tavern was filled fit to burst, with people dancing, drinking, and singing. Aralyn laughed and wrapped her arms around Caldric, swaying to the music. At first, he was stiff, and unyielding, and then he began to loosen up, his movements becoming more fluid and natural.

"There we go," she whispered in his ear. "Feel the music. Let it in."

"And what happens then?" he asked.

"Let's find out." She inched her head back and stared into his eyes.

"You are a bad influence on me, vampire hunter," he called out above the music.

"I have never been called a bad influence on anyone before," she replied.

"Then there truly is a first time for everything," Caldric told her as they were jostled about by the crowd.

"Drink!" A glass was thrust in between them.

"Uncle Burt!" Aralyn stepped back from Caldric. Color crept into her cheeks, as a sense of guilt, of being caught doing something forbidden, washed over her.

"I didn't think you would come," he admitted. "I thought you might be too busy with your planning. But I'm glad you did."

"I was getting something to eat," she said, playing down the real reason she and Caldric were not back at his mansion, studying the layout of the Tolioni residence, and planning their heist.

"And you heard the music." Uncle Burt nodded in understanding.

"It's…" Even as she stood there talking to her uncle, her feet were keeping beat and her body swayed to the music.

"Intoxicating," Uncle Burt said, then thrust the drink toward her. "Here, try this. Flint's wife brewed it, especially for when The Fable is playing. It helps…bring things down a little."

Aralyn eyed the glass, not sure if she wanted to bring things down a little.

"You, too, Caldric." Uncle Burt handed the vampire a drink. "Since this is your first time, too, I take it."

"My first time?" he asked.

"Hearing The Fable play." Uncle Burt nodded, the color heightened on his cheeks. "After a couple of times, it gets easier to resist the pull, but the first time...it can be overwhelming."

Caldric glanced at Aralyn, then took the glass from Uncle Burt and lifted it to his lips.

"Wait." She put her hand on his. "Are you sure you want to dull the sensations? The music… Can't you feel it? Don't you want to?"

"Do vampires enjoy music?" Uncle Burt mused.

Caldric's eyes darkened as he shot Uncle Burt a look, then he said, "It has touched a part of me. But I could not play like this." He put his fingers to his temples. "There's no room for me in here."

"Drink." Uncle Burt nodded at them both.

Aralyn hesitated as she raised the glass to her lips. She kind of liked this feeling of freedom the fae music gave her. It seemed to reach inside of her and unravel the tightly wound threads that had been constricting her for as long as she could remember. But those were the threads of her life, of who she was.

This Aralyn, the one caught in the snare of The Fable's music, was a figment of magic. Nothing more.

She lifted the glass to her lips and took a tentative taste. The drink was sweet and warming, lingering on her tongue.

The warmth spread through her chest, taking the edge off the electrifying thrall of the music.

Caldric followed suit, sipping the drink while his eyes remained fixed on her. "It's...mellowing," he admitted and took another sip before tilting his head back and downing the rest of it.

"Steady," Uncle Burt warned. "It can be jarring."

Caldric tensed, his body rigid, before he stumbled forward.

"Let's get you a seat." Uncle Burt hooked his hand under Caldric's arm and guided him toward the bar, where the rest of the Regulars were seated.

"Will he be okay?" Aralyn asked as she took another sip of her drink, and then another. It sure had a sobering effect. She could still hear the music, but the magic was muted, allowing her to think straight again.

"Yes, of course," Uncle Burt said, although he did not sound too sure as he helped Caldric onto a stool at the bar.

"Are you all right there, old chap?" Stan asked, placing a hand on Caldric's shoulder as he leaned heavily on the bar.

"Drank too much too soon," Uncle Burt explained and was met with an Ahh , from Stan and Burt.

"It'll soon pass," Harry assured Caldric. "Liselle's drinks never leave you strung out."

"We don't know the effect it might have on a vampire," Stan said.

"What?" Aralyn asked.

"Well, the drink is brewed for humans," Harry explained. "The magic might work differently for the immortally inclined."

"The tavern accepts no liability for harm or misadventure caused by the consumption of drinks or magic on or off the premises." Morwenna appeared from behind the bar.

"Were you hiding down there?" Stan asked.

"No, I was trying to coax the Yeti in the fridge to open the door. The last time The Fable played, he got a little giddy. It did not end well. He was hung over for days and kept giving me the wrong beers. We had words ," Morwenna said. "Now he is refusing to open the fridge."

"By the look of the people in the tavern this evening," Aralyn began, "they won't notice if you serve the warm beer."

" Warm bread beer ," Stan muttered to himself.

"Is that a request?" Morwenna asked, almost hopefully.

"Do you hear that?" Caldric suddenly sat bolt upright, and everyone reeled from the sudden movement.

"The band, yes," Uncle Burt said.

"I don't think there is a soul in Wishing Moon Bay who can't hear them," Morwenna said with some satisfaction as she glanced around the full tavern.

"No, it's something…" He stood up, unsteady on his feet.

Aralyn took a bigger sip of her drink and then another. She was beginning to feel much more like herself, and her responsibilities as a vampire hunter settled on her once more. Though vampire babysitter might be more akin to her duties tonight as she watched the wobbly Caldric.

"What do you hear?" she asked.

"A piano," Caldric said, his eyes looking past her.

"No piano here," Harry said. "The Fable don't play pianos."

"It's coming from up there…" Caldric pointed to the stairs, and then he was on his feet, heading for them in long strides, sure on his feet all of a sudden.

"Caldric!" Aralyn sprang after him, reaching out for him, as Uncle Burt shouted something after them. Something about stairs and losing your way. Or yourself, the last word was lost in the music.

But the one thing she did know was she had brought Caldric here. It was her fault he was caught up in the magic of the fae music.

It did not matter what else she lost. As long as it was not him.