Firefight in Darkness (25 page)

“Give me a second.” She winked and whirled around, stepping towards the alarm radio that sat on the nightstand in between the two beds. She flipped it on and dialed the tuner until she found what she was looking for. Ronnie Dunn’s crooning voice sang out a smooth and aching country ballad about what his woman gets for loving him. Blythe turned around and smiled, earning an dubious look from Jax.

“Since when do you like country music?”

Since I decided I love you, she thought, biting her lip to hold back from saying it. Instead she just shrugged. “I suppose it’s grown on me. Now c’mon and dance with me, cowboy.”

She grabbed his hand in hers, pulling him towards her, pleased when he didn’t resist. His arms came around her waist, hers wound around his neck. When she tilted her chin up this time, he leaned in to kiss her.

For now, at least, she could let go and just exist. At that moment, she was simply a girl, and he was simply a boy, with nothing more between them than mutual respect and attraction. No confused feelings, no mission, no deadly half demon, and most of all, no dead grandmother’s diary.

♦ ♦ ♦

When morning came, he left her bright and early so she could read the diary in private. He said he was going to hit up his few contacts in Chicago who he had managed to get a hold of the day before to see if they had seen Dante. But she knew he was just trying to give her space. What he expected the diary to contain, she had no idea. She only knew he was purposely giving her distance in case she needed to grieve.

Which she certainly did not plan to do, she assured herself as she settled into the comfy pillows of the hotel bed and laid the diary in her lap, unopened. Whatever it was that she found inside, she couldn’t allow it to skew what she knew to be the facts.

Bristol had slept with a demon, given birth to Dante, was banished by Thea, and then was never heard from again. And now Dante, the evil creature she had created, was a plague on everyone living on Euphora and the reason Blythe had grown up without her real father. So unless pigs started flying in the sky, Blythe was certain she would feel no different after reading the diary then she did now.

With an impatient sigh, she opened the plain leather bound cover and, fighting to ignore the clenching feeling in her gut, she settled in to read the first entry.

April 7th, 1966

Today was not only a great day because I finally turned eighteen, but also because the Enforcers arrived with news that they destroyed the demon that had been wreaking havoc in the Caribbean. Silas and Gerald came by to tell Thea and to join us for my birthday party, and I made my move. Father doesn’t approve, but I don’t care what he thinks. Silas is so handsome, so brave and intense…it’s a good thing father wasn’t around to hear the naughty things he whispered in my ear while we ate cake on the settee in the lounge. I always knew I’d fall in love with an older man, and really he’s only thirty, just twelve years older than I. And he’s an Enforcer, one of the most courageous men I’ve ever met. Hearing him speak of his demon hunting conquests makes my heart flutter like it never has before, especially not with any of the boys here on Euphora, who are all so dreadfully boring. Silas could never bore me, it’s impossible. We’ve only known each other since I was sixteen, but now that I’m of age he says he’s ready to marry me. Oh, it was the best birthday present I could have ever asked for. Even the grand party and finally getting the Fire Dryad heirlooms from my father couldn’t compare to this. Silas Ashburn will be mine, forever and always. Thank God for it.

Blythe paused at the end of the entry, absorbing what she had read. So Silas must be her grandfather…why had she never heard of him before? Where was he now, if he was even still alive? He would be well into his seventies by now…

Hoping to find answers, she continued to read.

June 20th, 1966

Father has finally accepted Silas’ proposal, even though Thea and Sebastian had accepted it almost immediately. I guess all my pestering finally wore him down. The wedding is in one short month, and oh, I can’t wait. It’s going to be so grand, and held right here in the courtyard under the stars, just like I’d always imagined.

Silas took me to the beach today and to dinner on the pier. It was lovely, and he is such a gentleman. He quite simply adores me, and would do anything I asked of him. Including live on Euphora as often as he can once we are married. Even though it would be nice, he knows I can’t leave my work, just like I know he can’t leave his, at least not permanently. His career is so important to him, and he knows I support him one hundred percent.

In thirty short days, I will be Mrs. Silas Ashburn!

July 30th, 1966

Just got back from our honeymoon! The wedding was so beautiful, and my dress like something out of a fairy tale, all frothy lace and shimmering silk. Silas looked so handsome, as always, and father behaved himself and shook Silas’ hand. I still don’t understand why he seems to feel I shouldn’t be with Silas, but then again, he and I have never understood each other, so why should we start now?

Our honeymoon was on this remote island in the Pacific, and it was so romantic. We went snorkeling, hiking, cliff diving, rock climbing…and we made love every chance we got.

I have never been happier than this moment, coming home with my husband, ready to start our lives together.

I love him so much.

September 14th, 1966

I’m pregnant! Silas and I haven’t really talked about children, but I can’t see how he couldn’t be happy about this. I’m thrilled, and Thea is too. I’m the first of the Dryads to be with child, and so our baby will be the oldest of the new heirs, which is such an honor. I hope it’s a boy, and I hope he has my Silas’ smile.

It would be a boy, Blythe thought grimly, shaking her head slowly. A boy who you would end up abandoning, and who’s life would be destroyed by your selfish actions…God, this was more difficult than she’d imagined. It was so hard not to get emotionally involved, not when she felt so passionate about getting justice for her father and for Capri.

And it also made it harder to see how young and innocent Bristol had been, so optimistic and hopeful for the future. And so in love, as well.

I’m nothing like her, Blythe thought, somewhat bitterly. Never once did I imagine falling in love or getting married in the courtyard, mostly because I assumed I never would, and I knew I didn’t need that to be happy. And I most certainly would never wear a lace wedding gown, yuck.

So Dante was wrong. She had nothing in common with her grandmother, and other than the quote on the first page, they didn’t even think alike. Bristol seemed much more light hearted, more innocent and definitely more spoiled, than Blythe had ever been.

Maybe, if her life had been less difficult up until this point she would have been like Bristol was. But the reality was that because of Bristol, Blythe’s life didn’t stand a chance to be so carefree.

Irritated, she skimmed over the next few entries, which seemed to only document the pregnancy. Apparently Silas wasn’t around nearly as often as Bristol had hoped he would be, which she brushed off as simply a part of being an Enforcer. But from the sound of it, Bristol was defending him more to herself than to anyone else. She was clearly irritated by his absence, and the fact that she had to deal with being pregnant, which she described in great detail as not being any fun, alone.

But when she found the entry detailing Brock’s birth, it seemed that Bristol forgot all about being upset.

April 3rd, 1967

He’s beautiful. Damn Dryad genes made him look just like me, but I don’t mind. He’s the loveliest baby I’ve ever seen, and he’s mine. Brock Silas Ashburn, the newest Fire Dryad.

Silas couldn’t make it out today, but he says he’ll be here first thing in the morning to see our son. I know he’s as excited as I am to welcome Brock into the world. He will be such a strong, handsome man, I just know it. I can’t wait for the other Dryads to have babies so he has friends to play with. Maureen is pregnant with the newest Earth Dryad; his name will be Rohan. I know he and Brock will be the best of friends. Thea and Sebastian are so happy for me, and even father smiled today when he held Brock. He sees my son’s potential just as I do. Even right now, he’s asleep in his bassinet by my window, his hands glowing red hot with barely contained fire. It warms my heart just to look at him.

Life has never been better than at this moment.

She skimmed through several more entries about Silas and her father as a baby, then as a toddler. Then she noticed that the entries became more and more spaced out, with longer and longer times between. She paused when she came to a page where the writing was scrawled and uneven, with what looked like tear stains on it. Her throat tightened as she read the entry.

March 10th, 1970

Silas came home today, and informed us all that his partner Gerald had been killed by a demon in the line of duty. We are all in shock, and I am so distraught I don’t know what to do with myself. Silas has shut himself in the library and won’t let me comfort him, and it’s driving me crazy with grief. I know he’s hurting, but he should also know that I can make him feel better. He loved Gerald like a brother, and losing him appears to have destroyed a part of his soul. I ache for him, even as I hold Brock in my arms and try to comfort myself in my room. Brock asked me why his daddy was so mad, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him his Uncle Gerald is dead. I’ve never lost someone close to me, and have never dealt with this deep, violent pain in the heart and gut. I suppose I’ll have to tell Brock eventually, but right now I don’t have the stomach for it. Instead I will simply pray for Silas, and hope he lets me back in.

September 1st, 1970

I never thought I’d say this, but I fear Silas has gone mad. It’s been a slow process, but a process nonetheless that I regretfully have been unable to prevent. He’s turned to drinking and has turned away from me, closing himself off emotionally. He blames himself for Gerald’s death, even though he could have done nothing to save him. But he won’t listen to me when I try and comfort him, and the few times he has come to me he has either been in a fit of rage or a deep, lulling depression. I’ve woken up in the middle of the night hearing him sobbing, a glass of whiskey in his hands. Other nights I have been the target of his aggression, and, God, I never thought he could, but last night he hit me. Naturally, I fought back, and set fire to his coat, frightening him enough for him to leave me alone. I haven’t heard from him since, as he’s gone back to the Enforcer’s headquarters. I don’t know what will happen now. All I know is that Brock needs me to be strong, and so strong is what I will be. I can’t tell anyone of our arguments, of his depression or the drinking…it’s both a matter of pride and a matter of protecting my son. He does not need the shame of a drunken father, and I can only hope that Silas succeeds in battling whatever demons rage inside his head before he comes back to me. He has to come back to me…

December 21st, 1970

Things have only gotten progressively worse, I fear. Silas has not hit me again, but he has resorted to emotionally abusing me. I never thought I’d succumb to it, thought I was tough enough to handle anything that came my way. But hearing the man I love accuse me of adultery, accuse me of neglecting our child, or of doing drugs and countless other horrific things has eaten away at me. I’m standing strong still, at least on the outside. Thea and the others can never know, can never see what Silas has slowly become. A monster, a frightening, terrifying monster. All I can do now is care for my son, and keep Silas from destroying everything I have.

Why, after everything, do I still love him?

“God.” Blythe muttered, setting down the diary and laying her head back against the pillows, her eyes shutting tight against the tears she felt burning in them. No, I can’t get emotional over this, she thought with anguish, shaking her head to try and clear it. But nothing could have shaken the disgust she felt, the torment of knowing how Bristol felt. How horrible it must have been to be helpless to save the man you loved from himself. She liked to think that she could have done something to force the bastard to shape up, but then again, how much was really within the woman’s power when the man’s mind was lost?

Shuddering, she wrapped her arms around herself, and let only a single tear escape to run down her cheek.

♦ ♦ ♦

When Jax returned, Blythe had tucked the diary safely away in her duffle bag and had settled in to watch TV. He eyed her speculatively as he dropped takeout bags on the mattress beside her.

“You get some reading done today?” He sat down opposite her to remove his hat and his shoes. She shrugged, then reached over to dig through the bags.

“Some. What’d you bring me?” Pulling out a Styrofoam box, she opened it and sniffed. “Mmm, smells good.”

“It’s called curry chicken, it’s Indian.” He got to his feet and went into the bathroom to wash up.

“Curry chicken, huh?” Curious, she dug out the other boxes, found jasmine rice and some steamed vegetables. And, thank the Lord, forks. Chop sticks had not served her well last time around, so thankfully this food did not appear to require such odd eating utensils.

Jax wandered back into the room and reached into the bags to pull out his own food as Blythe began to dig in.

“This is good.” She mumbled, her mouth full. She tried to smile at him, but he just rolled his eyes.

“Glad you like it.” He said as he took a bite himself, satisfied with his choice of restaurant. It had been a gamble to find something good in a city he hardly knew. “So, what did you find out from the diary? How far into it are you?”