Blue Dawn (16 page)

Allie had barely stepped into the narrow entrance way when two tow-headed children leapt upon her with blood-curdling yelps and whoops.

Erik automatically stepped forward to intervene—

until he realized Allie was laughing and hugging the boys.

He stepped back to the door, and sternly reminded himself of the importance of maintaining the proper distance from all humans. But he couldn’t ignore the noisy reunion taking place before him, any more than he could ignore the blaring music making the walls shake around him, or ignore the most enticing aromas he’d ever experienced wafting through the hot muggy air of the tiny house. Curiosity got the better of him.

“What smells so good?” he asked at the precise moment the music cut out.

His voice boomed across the abrupt silence.

Allie and the two boys turned to look. A woman wiping her hands on a pink flowered apron stepped into the hallway from the living room. “That’s dinner,” she said, smiling at Erik.

Taken by surprise, Erik found himself returning the smile of the woman who immediately reminded him of Allie. She was taller, and darker, with a mass of rich brown curls tied back out of her face. But the green eyes and the sprinkle of freckles were identical, as well as the spirit of generosity that seemed to shine from her face.

In a vain attempt to shoo the boys away, the woman waved her apron at them. She turned back to Erik. “I’m Wanda,” she said, offering a hand. He shook it.

She shot a look of mock menace at the giggling boys, who appeared to be about six years of age.

“And the two wild ones here are Randy and Jason, otherwise known as the twins.”

“I’m Jason,” piped up the closer of the boys, his blue eyes glittering mischievously. “I’m Randy,” added the other.

Wanda put her hands on her hips. “Randy!

Jason! You should be ashamed of yourselves.

Pulling that tired old trick again.”

She looked at Erik. “They try to confuse anyone new by taking each other’s names. Actually it’s the opposite of what they told you.”

She turned back to the boys. “Outside now.

Supper’s not for another hour. You go out and watch for your Dad. And behave yourselves. If you’re not careful, I’ll stamp your names on your foreheads with indelible ink.”

With more ear-splitting whoops, the boys scampered around Erik and out the door. Wanda sighed as they left, and shook her head. “Those boys. I think they’re worse when I’m off work in the summer than they are any other time.” She turned to lead them into the house, then stopped.

“Allie, you haven’t introduced me to your friend.”

“You haven’t given me a chance,” Allie replied good-naturedly. She winked at Erik, then nodded at her sister. “Wanda, this is Erik. He’s the new photographer at
The Streeter
I was telling you about.”

“Nice to meet you.” For a moment Wanda’s green eyes, so disconcertingly familiar, rested on Erik. He had the uncomfortable feeling she was taking his measure, searching for some indication of who and what he was. After Mrs. Bukowski’s recognition, he didn’t need any more unpleasant surprises.

After a moment she cocked her head, and smiled again. She looked at Allie. “You would bring him here on the day our air conditioner decides to conk out, wouldn’t you?” she chided. “Well, come in anyway. We can always go out the back, or sit on the porch if it gets too hot.”

Some of Erik’s tension dissipated. Wanda had noticed nothing out of the ordinary, no disconcerting similarity to anyone else on Earth.

Now, all he needed to do was imitate a sociable human attending a friend’s family dinner.

He raised his chin, his confidence in himself and his Zalian beliefs reasserting itself. How hard could that be?

From his place at the head of the dining room table, Connor O’Brien winked at his wife sitting at the other end. Wanda smiled, and for a brief moment, her face lit up. Then she returned her attention to her dinner.

Erik said nothing. He continued eating the quickly-disappearing perogies, sauerkraut, shiskebobs and salad on his plate. But he noticed the subtle interplay between Allie’s sister and her husband, just as he had noticed the myriad of ways in which they expressed their fondness for each other ever since Connor had arrived home from work.

Like much of the human body language of which Zalians had failed to grasp the significance, it was rarely anything overt. Rather it was the lift of an eyebrow, the tone of a voice, a teasing comment, all of them filled with a warmth and affection that would have been frowned upon in a typical Zalian family.

“Randy! Quit playing with your sauerkraut!

Jason—stop kicking your brother’s chair! You’ll never finish dinner at this rate.” Wanda’s reprimand was sharp, but not angry.

The boys shared a sly glance, then continued shoveling food into their mouths. They were neither cowed nor offended by their mother’s comment, and apparently complied out of good nature rather than fear of punishment.

Erik blinked, more confused than ever.

Certainly, it was proper he observe and note this human interplay and affection. But why was it bothering him? Why was he experiencing this sense of loss—this
envy
—for affection he’d never had, for an emotional involvement he knew was weak and foolish?

Suddenly an image of a long-buried incident flashed into his head. No more than three, he’d slid on some gravel and scraped his knees and palms. Too young to realize crying was inappropriate, he had run wailing to his mother.

Immediately, instinctively he assumed, his mother—his
half-human mother
—had wrapped her arms around him, hugging him close to her body, and kissing the top of his head.

Then his father had entered the room. His mother had released him, and set about mechanically cleaning and bandaging his scrapes and cuts. He remembered trying to insinuate himself back into his mother’s comforting arms; he remembered the hurt and confusion when he was rebuffed. A confusion very much like the confusion he was experiencing now.

Erik raised his eyes from his plate, conscious of Allie’s gaze on him. From her place beside him, she had abandoned eating. Instead, she was watching him, a puzzled look in her eyes.

When she realized he’d noticed her watching him, she flushed. Then, in a sassy

acknowledgment of her behavior, she grinned. A wide grin, one that shone from her face and danced in her eyes. A grin, he realized with a jolt, that affected him with an intensity similar yet different from that long-ago hug.

Emotion rising in his chest, he watched her, greedy for more of the affection he’d seen at the table, the affection that now was being offered to him. He wanted to ask her why. He wanted to know how such a subtle thing as a touch or a smile could be so important.

“So what made you decide to become a photographer, Erik?”

Connor’s question screeched into his consciousness. Reluctantly he transferred his gaze from Allie to Connor. He noted the friendly interest in his face, and relaxed. This was a simple question, not an inquisition. And though he had learned photography only for this mission, he had discovered he not only had a flare for it, he enjoyed it.

He put down his fork. “Images have always intrigued me,” he said slowly, ”probably because they can capture the essence of a person, or an idea, without the use of words.”

He turned to Allie. “I could never be a reporter.

I can’t put people at ease the way Allie can. I can’t find the right words to express things.”

Allie flushed with pleasure. Erik was surprised at the rush of pleasure he felt in turn. For a moment he held Allie’s gaze, then broke into a slow smile.

“I find it easier to remain at a distance, an observer and recorder of events.”

“Maybe sometime you could take some pictures of Wanda.” Connor shot an admiring glance at his wife.

“Yeah, they’d be better than the ones you take,” Jason threw in with a grin.

Wanda frowned at the boy, but Connor only grinned.

“I’d be pleased to take Wanda’s photo. You and the boys too,” Eric replied solemnly.

He glanced at Allie. She was smiling proudly.

He started to smile back when the voice of reality intruded.
You’re not going to be here to take
Wanda’s photo
, the voice said.

His chest tightened as he recognized the truth he did not want to accept. He wouldn’t likely ever see these people again.

Neither, for that matter, would Allie.

Hot water for the dishes streamed into the old porcelain sink in the tiny kitchen. Wanda turned to face Allie. “So tell me,” she said, ”is Erik an escaped murderer or is he the man you’re madly in love with?”

Allie almost dropped the pile of dirty plates she was carrying from the kitchen table to the counter.

“Huh?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Wanda dropped glasses one by one into the sudsy water. She looked at Allie, who had deposited the plates on the counter. “I saw the way you looked at him all through dinner. You never took your eyes off him.”

She swiped at a glass with the dishcloth. “I want to know whether you’re watching him because you’re afraid he’s going to steal the silverware.” She tapped a fork on the side of the sink. “By the way, it’s only stainless steel—or whether it’s because you’ve finally found your one and only.”

Despite the open windows and overhead fan, it was uncomfortably hot and steamy in the tiny kitchen. The temperature zoomed up another dozen degrees as Allie’s face flared red.

She swallowed. “Don’t be silly. I hardly know Erik. We’ve worked together, that’s all. And he doesn’t know anyone here so I thought—”

“Save it, sweetheart. This is your sister you’re talking to,” Wanda interrupted. “Besides, when have you ever brought a man home before? Even when
Mama
and
Tata
were alive you never brought anyone home. Never.”

Allie blinked. It was true. She’d never brought anyone male around to meet her family. Not even Cody. And they had been engaged, however briefly.

But Erik? Why had she brought him here, now?

She bit her lip as the implications of what she’d done struck home.

“Maybe not,” she said slowly. “But it doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

Wanda snorted. “Sure. I don’t know why you’re having so much trouble admitting the truth. I’m not Mama, you know. I’m not going to put him—or you—through the Inquisition to determine whether he’s suitable.” She paused and her eyes twinkled. “Besides, I’m sure it’s mutual.”

“What’s mutual?” Allie regretted the question immediately.

“The attraction, of course.” Wanda shrugged her shoulders and returned to washing the dishes. “How much you like Erik. And how much he likes you. It’s obvious he’s completely taken with you.”

“He is?” Despite herself, Allie’s spirits lifted.

She forced out another question. “So, uh, so what do you think of him?”

“Erik?” Wanda smiled. “Nice. Very nice. And sharp. Do you know, besides you and Connor and I, he’s the first person able to distinguish between the boys right from the start?

“He’s quiet too, not full of himself and everything he’s done. I like that. And his manners. Very quiet. Very old world. Are you sure he’s not Polish, or some other East European? His features are very East European.”

Allie shook her head. “No, he was born here.

German parents, he said.”

Wanda smiled. “Anyway, I think it’s about time you found yourself a nice man. And sexy as all get-out too.”

Allie turned away so her sister wouldn’t see the silly grin she could no longer suppress. Could her sister possibly be right? Did Erik really care for her?

Abruptly Allie awoke. In the darkness of her bedroom, she blinked until her eyes adjusted to the lack of light. She could have sworn someone called her name.

The last dredges of sleep evaporated. And not just anyone. A man. Erik. Erik had called her name. His low voice had interrupted the dream of childhood summer escapades that was fast receding from her consciousness.

She sat up. Her eyes scanned the dark room.

The clock read 4:15 a.m. “Erik?” she whispered.

“Erik?” From the other room, she heard Sharkey’s soft snoring.

Common sense told her Erik wasn’t there. How could he be? But in some strange way, his presence surrounded her, full of a warmth and caring she felt more strongly than ever. Even the weird buzz that always heralded his arrival had begun.

Regretfully, she shook her head. This feeling had to be nothing more than the result of the unrequited longing she’d taken to bed with her.

Despite her own yearning, despite her sister’s comments, she still hadn’t been able to bring herself to trust Erik. Ignoring the same desire she’d seen flash across his face, she’d sent him home disappointed and with nothing more than a smile.

She sighed heavily, lay back in the bed and closed her eyes. She squirmed about to get comfortable, then smiled ruefully to herself.

Imagine thinking Erik was here?

As the minutes passed, she relaxed again and drifted on the edge of sleep. But the buzz in her head, instead of disappearing, grew louder and more insistent. Her head vibrated with the sound, and the vibrations spread outwards, down through her chest and belly, along her arms to her fingertips, down her legs to her toes. Her body tingled with an increasingly pleasant buzz of anticipation.

She sank deeper into the mattress, floating lazily on this strange, enticing sea of sensation.

Behind her closed eyelids, a blue mist rose on the horizon, its color and energy intensifying as it grew closer.

As she watched, mesmerized, the mist gradually took on shape and form. A man, tall and strong and naked, his skin glowing blue in the strange light, walked towards her, his gaze trained unwaveringly on her.

Allie held her breath. The man came closer and closer, but she couldn’t see his face. Finally he reached her, then passed through her, around her, over her.

Bitter disappointment swept through Allie, momentarily blocking out the hum.
Where had he
gone? Why hadn’t he stopped? Who was he?

Tears pooled at the corners of her closed eyes.