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Chapter Three

I stood while the plane was still in motion, using the excuse of needing to stretch my legs as the plane taxied for our gate. My neighbors glanced up at me with quizzical expressions and somehow, I managed an amiable smile even though their faces read like blank slates in desperate need of chalk. They either could not be bothered to care or felt satisfied with this simple explanation, which gave me more than enough excuse to ignore them.
Instead, I focused on other things. I lifted my briefcase and adjusted its strap over my shoulder. I leaned on the seat in front of me until the elderly woman finally moved, and fetched a smaller suitcase from the overhead compartment the moment the aisle cleared. When my feet finally touched the carpet inside the airport, I nearly knelt to kiss the ground before me. I might have done so had I not been in unfamiliar territory.
As it was, enough time was spent wheeling my suitcase through the wide corridor and scanning signs for the baggage retrieval area. Much of the décor reminded me the nineteen-seventies, with portions of the terminal cordoned off in the most inconvenient ways possible for renovation. I wove from one thoroughfare to the next, finding the escalators heading down after sidestepping an errant child who had taken leave of his family. With a sigh, I brushed off my coat and lifted my suitcase onto the top stair. The slow descent provided me a few additional moments to compose myself.
“I am sending you to San Francisco.”
Robin had issued the statement with all the coldness he could muster, in a tone which I had never heard my older brother employ before that night. Springing from the heels of a two-hour long talk, I saw something coming, but did not know what form it would take. I simply knew I had raised his ire and would owe the devil my soul for fifteen years of deceit.
Still, the assignment had me curious. “Why San Francisco?” I asked, seated opposite him as he shuffled papers from one side of his desk to the other. The walls of his office felt as though they might close in enough to crush me, the familiar area a sudden war zone with me the enemy within. The ticking of the clock on the wall seemed to echo and my time spent in both Toronto and Philadelphia formed a whirlwind of memories all culminating into this. After walking a precarious line, I had misplaced one of my steps.
He failed to look up at me as he responded. “Matthew mentioned this coven to me two weeks ago and I thought, at the time, that your skills sounded uniquely-suited for their dilemma. I only hadn’t mentioned it because you were needed here.”
The comment provoked a frown. “You no longer need me, dear brother?”
His icy blue eyes flashed up to meet mine, narrowing at first before relaxing. “You have forced us to pick up your slack for the past few months, Peter. I allowed your tryst with Celine because, at the time, I told myself it was for your benefit, to see you emerge from your shell and start a new life.” He glanced back down at the desk. “Now I am wondering if I made a mistake.”
A tense silence fell between us. I shifted in my seat, fighting the urge to produce another cigarette. “If I would have known…”
“Don’t start with that. Don’t even mention his name again, or I’ll send you to the other side of the world.”
The terse ultimatum impacted like a slap across the face. Robin sighed, his gaze lifting again with a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I apologize,” he said, his tone soft for the first time during the entire conversation. This time, when his eyes drifted, the look inside them turned distant instead of angry. “All along… I have simply assumed Celine was the reason…” His lips moved, but failed to finish the sentence.
I finally gave in to the temptation to reach for the metal case tucked inside my jacket. “The reason for what?” I asked, producing a cigarette from within.
His lids shut; his Adam’s apple bobbing as he choked back whatever had chosen that moment to hitch up inside of him. “… Why you have been so negligent of your duties. So distant toward your children.” As his eyes opened again, I saw a pain I could not distinguish laden inside of them. “You must get away from here. For now, at least. We can negotiate your return when this assignment is complete.”
I looked toward the floor, an unbearable weight settling on my shoulders. “You believe it to be wise for me to be away from John and Lydia.”
“If things have been as unstable as you claim, then yes.”
“Fair enough.” Within my private thoughts, I heard myself add, ‘I would have liked to make up for lost time,’ yet could not summon the nerve to speak it aloud. Instead, I continued gazing downward as I pulled out my lighter and flicked it open. I slid my case back into my suit jacket after the embers of tobacco lit orange, smoke billowing from the end.
My daughter was sick; had been since she found herself on our doorstep five months prior. My son, who followed several days later, guarded her like a hawk. He and I maintained a tenuous, awkward posture with each other while his sister remained too incapacitated to help either of us. None of us had the chance to figure out what it meant to be a family and now, I would be three thousand miles away from them again.
“What do you wish me to do in San Francisco?” I asked.
Robin drew a deep breath inward, his demeanor changing as though a flipped switch had morphed him from brother back to coven master. “Our brethren in California have reached an impasse in negotiations with another immortal, it would seem.”
Robin’s change in tenor opened the possibility for me to indulge the same. Exhaling a plume of smoke, I regarded him through the haze and settled my demeanor as much as possible given the circumstances. “You said my talents were uniquely-suited.”
“Yes, the coven’s second, Aidan, told Matthew an unstoppable force had met an immovable object.” He raised an eyebrow. “He didn’t explain what this meant, but, from what I understand, they need a talented diplomat.”
Nodding slowly, I rested my elbow on the arm of my chair and let my cigarette burn as I paused to think. I dared not look Robin in the eye when I said, “You wish me away from here, yet you trust me to still be a skilled negotiator?”
He sighed. “I have my reasons, dear brother. I wish I could explain it better, but I can’t.” As I glanced back at him, his frown deepened. “If… your problem… has been this much of an issue for so long, it at least hasn’t impeded your ability to perform your duties before Celine.”
“No, it has not.”
“Do you think that will continue now that she’s gone?”
A sardonic chuckle slipped past my lips before I could stop it, sounding far bitterer than I had intended it to. I felt a weight in my psyche behind it, as though I had been wronged two times worse than I truly had. “I cannot know for certain. The glass from the picture frames is still freshly shattered.”
“I would love to send her a bill for the state of your quarters.”
“Address the envelope to France.”
“I am truly sorry for that. I hope you know this.” Our eyes met and the first genuine wave of sympathy passed from Robin to me. “I know we’ve exchanged some very cutting words tonight, but never in any of this have I wanted you to think I am satisfied she left you.”
With a dismissive shrug, I tried to shed my bruised ego like a layer of skin. “I saw it coming,” I murmured.
“We see many things coming and still reel when they hit us.”
“I had fallen out of love with her, and told her as such,” I said, sounding far more nonchalant about it than I truly felt. A distinct part of me wished to sweep the entire matter under the rug and forget about it. “Perhaps there are greener pastures waiting for me in California.”
“You never know for sure.” He exhaled a frustrated huff, his gaze shifting around until finally settling back on me. “If you run into any problems, call me. Keep in contact with me and the children regardless, but if you… get into any trouble…”
“You cannot be my keeper forever, brother.”
Robin shook his head, but continued regarding me with a heavier, more contrite air. “No. I can’t, Peter, which is why you need to get away from all of this. I will straighten your affairs here, but I think we both need you elsewhere for a time.” He looked away. “You wounded me, brother. I refuse to drag you through the dirt for it, but I will need time to see you in the same light as I did before.”
Nodding, I drew from my cigarette, bottling the black hole in my chest lest it draw me into its vacuum. “I accept your assignment, then. Please, let me stay for Lydia’s birthday, though.”
“You have three days after her birthday to depart.”
“Thank you, dear brother.” Standing, I turned before we could indulge the pattern of conciliatory stares and angry silences any further. My march back to my quarters was brusque and the remaining days spent at the coven were occupied with cleaning and preparations. That had been nearly seven days prior to my arrival in California.
To me, it felt like hours.
Alighting from the escalator, I set my suitcase down and wheeled it down the corridor, following the signs pointing toward the baggage carousels. For being such an open-ended trip, I packed light, taking my daughter’s suggestion to indulge a shopping trip or two while consigned to my place of exile.
“Send me back something cute with butterflies on it.”
I smiled in the present, as I had seated beside my ailing twenty-year old girl.
“I shall send you and your brother whatever your hearts’ desire, Dearest.”
First, there was work to do.
As I strolled past a man with dirty blond hair, clad in a leather jacket and a pair of jeans, he straightened his posture and folded a newspaper he had been reading under his arm. I heard his footsteps hasten when mine did and slow as I tested the waters and decreased my pace. Sneaking a glance across my shoulder, I stopped walking when I saw him stare directly at me and turned to face him as he halted a few feet shy of me. “Can I be of any assistance to you, sir?” I asked.
The man smirked, keeping his mouth conspicuously shut and opening it only as much as necessary when he responded. “That’s what I’m hoping, but we’ll see how good you are at what you do soon enough.” He raised an eyebrow. “Peter Dawes, I’m assuming. If not, please forgive me. I was told to look for tall and slim, with one hell of a set of eyes.”
The dawn of an epiphany shone a light across my face. For the first time, I recognized the pale skin for what it was and could not help but to grin at a fellow vampire. “You must be Aidan Caulfield.”
“In the flesh, though not nearly alive enough for this crowd. But they don’t need to know that.” He extended a hand toward me. “I’ll shake, because it’s polite and because I want to prove I’m not a heathen, but here’s your first negotiating lesson. The vampires here hate touching as much as a hypochondriac with OCD.”
He laughed as I blinked and shook his hand, befuddled. My hand remained in place long after his parted and belatedly slipped into my pants pocket when he cocked a thumb toward the baggage carousel. “I hate talking business in front of the civilians, so why don’t we fetch your bags and get out to the parking lot? I’ll feel a lot better when I have this place in my rearview mirror.” Aidan proceeded ahead of me, to where a flock of humans had begun congregating.
Nodding, I followed without responding.
Aidan honored the silence for a time as I took my place beside him. He stood several inches shorter than me, but wore his height and build as though he had been physically active in his human life. The glance he shot in my direction lingered, though only for the briefest of seconds. “Well, I feel like telling Matthew he sent the perfect person. No offense, Peter, but you look like you haven’t relaxed since you woke from your death slumber.”
I smirked, for the lack of a better response. “I was beginning to wonder if my brethren here were a trifle more familiar.”
“You’re in the land of peace, love, and tolerance.” He chortled as he raised his hands, palms pacific. “Survival of the fittest and here, you stand out more when you’re not as relaxed as the rest of the crowd.”
“I am afraid I am a hopeless cause, then,” I said as we stopped before a conveyor belt carrying a growing collection of luggage. Releasing my hold on my smaller suitcase, I let it settle on its back wheels and lowered my arm to its side. “I was trained to be a sophisticate and cannot seem to unlearn it.”
“I wonder if that’s why our arguments have been getting lost in translation. There’s hope rearing its ugly head again, though.” Aidan sighed and left the observation hanging between us, begging for further explanation with none being offered. I perked an eyebrow, but turned my attention to the menagerie of bags passing us by as a few more pieces added to the ensemble. Within a few moments, I found my hanging bag and passed it to Aidan’s extended arms before taking hold of my suitcase’s handle again.
I led us away, choosing a direction without truly knowing where we needed to be heading. Aidan jogged to catch up. “Is this all you have?” he asked.
I nodded, summoning a melancholy grin. “My daughter suggested I indulge a bit of shopping while in California.”
“Ahh, smart girl.” He smiled and directed our course toward another set of escalators. “I’ll tell you all the good places to go around here. I think my master might even know a tailor or two since it seems you prefer the suits.”
Instinctively, I glanced at my clothing. “Manner of habit, you could say.”
“Nothing wrong with that. I wear a suit or two around the coven, especially when we’re hosting guests. They’re just not nearly as nice as that one is.” He stole another glance at me. Our conversation paused when we reached the escalator. Ascending one level up, we turned to the left and headed for a set of automatic doors. “I like the fact that you don’t wear a tie, though. I don’t either. The lack of needing to breathe notwithstanding, it still feels like they’re choking me.”
I laughed as the doors parted, bringing a rush of cool air with it. “How old of an immortal are you?”
“Two hundred and fifty-seven.” He flashed a wink. The doors shut behind us, immersing us in a milder winter breeze than I was used to weathering. Aidan took up the lead again. “I am a native of Galway, Ireland and immortal brother to Mistress Ophelia of Toronto. That’s why I called Matthew Pritchard. She said he knew of a few good negotiators and I figured somebody cross-country would be less likely to have crossed paths with our particular thorn in the flesh.”
We wove our way through the parking lot, past one row of cars before walking parallel to another. I grinned much more readily when he looked my way again. “If you are Ophelia’s brother, then it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Ophelia is a dear friend of mine.”
“The pleasure’s all mine, Peter.” Aidan draped my hanging bag around his elbow, freeing a hand to dig into his leather jacket and produce a set of keys. He held them aloft and pressed a button on his keychain. “Now, let’s find the car so I can bend your ear for a moment before dropping you off where you’ll be staying. I swear I parked somewhere around here, but I’ll apologize if we wind up in Oakland.” Offering me one last playful smirk, Aidan surged ahead of us, forcing me behind him when a trail of cars took turns speeding past. The noise of vehicles and other pedestrians hunting for their parking places drowned out any possibility at further conversation, but I found it comforting in some small way. It gave me a chance to survey my new surroundings.

Description
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Chapter Three

I stood while the plane was still in motion, using the excuse of needing to stretch my legs as the plane taxied for our gate. My neighbors glanced up at me with quizzical expressions and somehow, I managed an amiable smile even though their faces read like blank slates in desperate need of chalk. They either could not be bothered to care or felt satisfied with this simple explanation, which gave me more than enough excuse to ignore them.
Instead, I focused on other things. I lifted my briefcase and adjusted its strap over my shoulder. I leaned on the seat in front of me until the elderly woman finally moved, and fetched a smaller suitcase from the overhead compartment the moment the aisle cleared. When my feet finally touched the carpet inside the airport, I nearly knelt to kiss the ground before me. I might have done so had I not been in unfamiliar territory.
As it was, enough time was spent wheeling my suitcase through the wide corridor and scanning signs for the baggage retrieval area. Much of the décor reminded me the nineteen-seventies, with portions of the terminal cordoned off in the most inconvenient ways possible for renovation. I wove from one thoroughfare to the next, finding the escalators heading down after sidestepping an errant child who had taken leave of his family. With a sigh, I brushed off my coat and lifted my suitcase onto the top stair. The slow descent provided me a few additional moments to compose myself.
“I am sending you to San Francisco.”
Robin had issued the statement with all the coldness he could muster, in a tone which I had never heard my older brother employ before that night. Springing from the heels of a two-hour long talk, I saw something coming, but did not know what form it would take. I simply knew I had raised his ire and would owe the devil my soul for fifteen years of deceit.
Still, the assignment had me curious. “Why San Francisco?” I asked, seated opposite him as he shuffled papers from one side of his desk to the other. The walls of his office felt as though they might close in enough to crush me, the familiar area a sudden war zone with me the enemy within. The ticking of the clock on the wall seemed to echo and my time spent in both Toronto and Philadelphia formed a whirlwind of memories all culminating into this. After walking a precarious line, I had misplaced one of my steps.
He failed to look up at me as he responded. “Matthew mentioned this coven to me two weeks ago and I thought, at the time, that your skills sounded uniquely-suited for their dilemma. I only hadn’t mentioned it because you were needed here.”
The comment provoked a frown. “You no longer need me, dear brother?”
His icy blue eyes flashed up to meet mine, narrowing at first before relaxing. “You have forced us to pick up your slack for the past few months, Peter. I allowed your tryst with Celine because, at the time, I told myself it was for your benefit, to see you emerge from your shell and start a new life.” He glanced back down at the desk. “Now I am wondering if I made a mistake.”
A tense silence fell between us. I shifted in my seat, fighting the urge to produce another cigarette. “If I would have known…”
“Don’t start with that. Don’t even mention his name again, or I’ll send you to the other side of the world.”
The terse ultimatum impacted like a slap across the face. Robin sighed, his gaze lifting again with a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I apologize,” he said, his tone soft for the first time during the entire conversation. This time, when his eyes drifted, the look inside them turned distant instead of angry. “All along… I have simply assumed Celine was the reason…” His lips moved, but failed to finish the sentence.
I finally gave in to the temptation to reach for the metal case tucked inside my jacket. “The reason for what?” I asked, producing a cigarette from within.
His lids shut; his Adam’s apple bobbing as he choked back whatever had chosen that moment to hitch up inside of him. “… Why you have been so negligent of your duties. So distant toward your children.” As his eyes opened again, I saw a pain I could not distinguish laden inside of them. “You must get away from here. For now, at least. We can negotiate your return when this assignment is complete.”
I looked toward the floor, an unbearable weight settling on my shoulders. “You believe it to be wise for me to be away from John and Lydia.”
“If things have been as unstable as you claim, then yes.”
“Fair enough.” Within my private thoughts, I heard myself add, ‘I would have liked to make up for lost time,’ yet could not summon the nerve to speak it aloud. Instead, I continued gazing downward as I pulled out my lighter and flicked it open. I slid my case back into my suit jacket after the embers of tobacco lit orange, smoke billowing from the end.
My daughter was sick; had been since she found herself on our doorstep five months prior. My son, who followed several days later, guarded her like a hawk. He and I maintained a tenuous, awkward posture with each other while his sister remained too incapacitated to help either of us. None of us had the chance to figure out what it meant to be a family and now, I would be three thousand miles away from them again.
“What do you wish me to do in San Francisco?” I asked.
Robin drew a deep breath inward, his demeanor changing as though a flipped switch had morphed him from brother back to coven master. “Our brethren in California have reached an impasse in negotiations with another immortal, it would seem.”
Robin’s change in tenor opened the possibility for me to indulge the same. Exhaling a plume of smoke, I regarded him through the haze and settled my demeanor as much as possible given the circumstances. “You said my talents were uniquely-suited.”
“Yes, the coven’s second, Aidan, told Matthew an unstoppable force had met an immovable object.” He raised an eyebrow. “He didn’t explain what this meant, but, from what I understand, they need a talented diplomat.”
Nodding slowly, I rested my elbow on the arm of my chair and let my cigarette burn as I paused to think. I dared not look Robin in the eye when I said, “You wish me away from here, yet you trust me to still be a skilled negotiator?”
He sighed. “I have my reasons, dear brother. I wish I could explain it better, but I can’t.” As I glanced back at him, his frown deepened. “If… your problem… has been this much of an issue for so long, it at least hasn’t impeded your ability to perform your duties before Celine.”
“No, it has not.”
“Do you think that will continue now that she’s gone?”
A sardonic chuckle slipped past my lips before I could stop it, sounding far bitterer than I had intended it to. I felt a weight in my psyche behind it, as though I had been wronged two times worse than I truly had. “I cannot know for certain. The glass from the picture frames is still freshly shattered.”
“I would love to send her a bill for the state of your quarters.”
“Address the envelope to France.”
“I am truly sorry for that. I hope you know this.” Our eyes met and the first genuine wave of sympathy passed from Robin to me. “I know we’ve exchanged some very cutting words tonight, but never in any of this have I wanted you to think I am satisfied she left you.”
With a dismissive shrug, I tried to shed my bruised ego like a layer of skin. “I saw it coming,” I murmured.
“We see many things coming and still reel when they hit us.”
“I had fallen out of love with her, and told her as such,” I said, sounding far more nonchalant about it than I truly felt. A distinct part of me wished to sweep the entire matter under the rug and forget about it. “Perhaps there are greener pastures waiting for me in California.”
“You never know for sure.” He exhaled a frustrated huff, his gaze shifting around until finally settling back on me. “If you run into any problems, call me. Keep in contact with me and the children regardless, but if you… get into any trouble…”
“You cannot be my keeper forever, brother.”
Robin shook his head, but continued regarding me with a heavier, more contrite air. “No. I can’t, Peter, which is why you need to get away from all of this. I will straighten your affairs here, but I think we both need you elsewhere for a time.” He looked away. “You wounded me, brother. I refuse to drag you through the dirt for it, but I will need time to see you in the same light as I did before.”
Nodding, I drew from my cigarette, bottling the black hole in my chest lest it draw me into its vacuum. “I accept your assignment, then. Please, let me stay for Lydia’s birthday, though.”
“You have three days after her birthday to depart.”
“Thank you, dear brother.” Standing, I turned before we could indulge the pattern of conciliatory stares and angry silences any further. My march back to my quarters was brusque and the remaining days spent at the coven were occupied with cleaning and preparations. That had been nearly seven days prior to my arrival in California.
To me, it felt like hours.
Alighting from the escalator, I set my suitcase down and wheeled it down the corridor, following the signs pointing toward the baggage carousels. For being such an open-ended trip, I packed light, taking my daughter’s suggestion to indulge a shopping trip or two while consigned to my place of exile.
“Send me back something cute with butterflies on it.”
I smiled in the present, as I had seated beside my ailing twenty-year old girl.
“I shall send you and your brother whatever your hearts’ desire, Dearest.”
First, there was work to do.
As I strolled past a man with dirty blond hair, clad in a leather jacket and a pair of jeans, he straightened his posture and folded a newspaper he had been reading under his arm. I heard his footsteps hasten when mine did and slow as I tested the waters and decreased my pace. Sneaking a glance across my shoulder, I stopped walking when I saw him stare directly at me and turned to face him as he halted a few feet shy of me. “Can I be of any assistance to you, sir?” I asked.
The man smirked, keeping his mouth conspicuously shut and opening it only as much as necessary when he responded. “That’s what I’m hoping, but we’ll see how good you are at what you do soon enough.” He raised an eyebrow. “Peter Dawes, I’m assuming. If not, please forgive me. I was told to look for tall and slim, with one hell of a set of eyes.”
The dawn of an epiphany shone a light across my face. For the first time, I recognized the pale skin for what it was and could not help but to grin at a fellow vampire. “You must be Aidan Caulfield.”
“In the flesh, though not nearly alive enough for this crowd. But they don’t need to know that.” He extended a hand toward me. “I’ll shake, because it’s polite and because I want to prove I’m not a heathen, but here’s your first negotiating lesson. The vampires here hate touching as much as a hypochondriac with OCD.”
He laughed as I blinked and shook his hand, befuddled. My hand remained in place long after his parted and belatedly slipped into my pants pocket when he cocked a thumb toward the baggage carousel. “I hate talking business in front of the civilians, so why don’t we fetch your bags and get out to the parking lot? I’ll feel a lot better when I have this place in my rearview mirror.” Aidan proceeded ahead of me, to where a flock of humans had begun congregating.
Nodding, I followed without responding.
Aidan honored the silence for a time as I took my place beside him. He stood several inches shorter than me, but wore his height and build as though he had been physically active in his human life. The glance he shot in my direction lingered, though only for the briefest of seconds. “Well, I feel like telling Matthew he sent the perfect person. No offense, Peter, but you look like you haven’t relaxed since you woke from your death slumber.”
I smirked, for the lack of a better response. “I was beginning to wonder if my brethren here were a trifle more familiar.”
“You’re in the land of peace, love, and tolerance.” He chortled as he raised his hands, palms pacific. “Survival of the fittest and here, you stand out more when you’re not as relaxed as the rest of the crowd.”
“I am afraid I am a hopeless cause, then,” I said as we stopped before a conveyor belt carrying a growing collection of luggage. Releasing my hold on my smaller suitcase, I let it settle on its back wheels and lowered my arm to its side. “I was trained to be a sophisticate and cannot seem to unlearn it.”
“I wonder if that’s why our arguments have been getting lost in translation. There’s hope rearing its ugly head again, though.” Aidan sighed and left the observation hanging between us, begging for further explanation with none being offered. I perked an eyebrow, but turned my attention to the menagerie of bags passing us by as a few more pieces added to the ensemble. Within a few moments, I found my hanging bag and passed it to Aidan’s extended arms before taking hold of my suitcase’s handle again.
I led us away, choosing a direction without truly knowing where we needed to be heading. Aidan jogged to catch up. “Is this all you have?” he asked.
I nodded, summoning a melancholy grin. “My daughter suggested I indulge a bit of shopping while in California.”
“Ahh, smart girl.” He smiled and directed our course toward another set of escalators. “I’ll tell you all the good places to go around here. I think my master might even know a tailor or two since it seems you prefer the suits.”
Instinctively, I glanced at my clothing. “Manner of habit, you could say.”
“Nothing wrong with that. I wear a suit or two around the coven, especially when we’re hosting guests. They’re just not nearly as nice as that one is.” He stole another glance at me. Our conversation paused when we reached the escalator. Ascending one level up, we turned to the left and headed for a set of automatic doors. “I like the fact that you don’t wear a tie, though. I don’t either. The lack of needing to breathe notwithstanding, it still feels like they’re choking me.”
I laughed as the doors parted, bringing a rush of cool air with it. “How old of an immortal are you?”
“Two hundred and fifty-seven.” He flashed a wink. The doors shut behind us, immersing us in a milder winter breeze than I was used to weathering. Aidan took up the lead again. “I am a native of Galway, Ireland and immortal brother to Mistress Ophelia of Toronto. That’s why I called Matthew Pritchard. She said he knew of a few good negotiators and I figured somebody cross-country would be less likely to have crossed paths with our particular thorn in the flesh.”
We wove our way through the parking lot, past one row of cars before walking parallel to another. I grinned much more readily when he looked my way again. “If you are Ophelia’s brother, then it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Ophelia is a dear friend of mine.”
“The pleasure’s all mine, Peter.” Aidan draped my hanging bag around his elbow, freeing a hand to dig into his leather jacket and produce a set of keys. He held them aloft and pressed a button on his keychain. “Now, let’s find the car so I can bend your ear for a moment before dropping you off where you’ll be staying. I swear I parked somewhere around here, but I’ll apologize if we wind up in Oakland.” Offering me one last playful smirk, Aidan surged ahead of us, forcing me behind him when a trail of cars took turns speeding past. The noise of vehicles and other pedestrians hunting for their parking places drowned out any possibility at further conversation, but I found it comforting in some small way. It gave me a chance to survey my new surroundings.