The Barren Tree
Chapter 9
by Myeerah, published on May 8, 2001
Grace awoke to sunshine splitting into her head like a chisel. Invisible weights pressed on her, and a foul taste sat in her mouth. She groaned and turned her head the other way. The view did not improve.
Gabriel lay next to her, one arm crooked over his eyes, the other--
She followed the line of his arm, and realized what the weight was from.
The other hand was casually cupping the inside of her thigh. Dangerously high up.
Huh. Even asleep he's a lech.
Lifting his hand, Grace got up, then stopped dead.
Why am I not wearing any clothes?
She looked closely at Gabriel.
He's still got his pants on, she thought.
Then, he looks a bit. . . sticky.
A memory returned, faint, incomplete.
Something about spilling the bottle. . . uh-oh. What did I do last night?
A tiny part of her brain rebelliously whispered, last Knight? but she clamped down firmly on it.
A shower. That's what she needed. With any luck, he wouldn't remember either.
I hope.
She looked at him lying on the bed. He was still a stunning sight.
Maybe I can just pretend it never happened.
There was a faint noise, a muffled yelp, and a crash.
Gabriel woke with a start and, heart pounding almost as hard as his head, looked over at the source of the noise.
Grace stared back from where she had just dropped a dustpan of broken glass.
"Oh good. You're awake." She came over and wordlessly helped him hop into his wheelchair. "Go get cleaned up. I'll get you some breakfast." She left.
Gabriel stared after her. He shrugged then and rolled off to follow her directions.
She's still here, that's somethin'. She's actin' real weird though. Wonder if she's reconsidered what she said last night?
Grace entered the kitchen to find Gerde nibbling a pastry.
"Are there any more of those?" Grace asked.
Gerde nodded and, not meeting Grace's eyes, silently pointed out a plat of croissants and danishes. There was also a glass pitcher full of what looked to be grape juice and a pot of coffee.
"Great." Grace poured a glassful of juice and sipped it. "You're quiet this morning, Gerde."
Gerde shrugged, keeping her eyes on her danish.
"What's wrong?"
Gerde shook her head, shoulders shaking.
"Gerde? Are you crying? What's the matter?"
In a quavering voice, Gerde said, "I trust you had a pleasant evening?"
She was unable to hold back any longer. Chest heaving, eyes streaming tears, Gerde broke out in convulsive laughter.
"What?" Grace implored. "I was drunk! I don't remember anything! Tell me! Please! What?"
"'I love you, Gabe!'" Gerde snorted. "'Don't stop! I love you!'" Laying her head on her arm and pounding the table with one fist, Gerde gasped for breath.
Grace was mortified. "Gerde? Please tell me you're joking!"
Shaking her head, still laughing, Gerde said, "Oh, Grace! You are a noisy one, aren't you?" Giggling, she added, "I didn't think that Gabriel had it in him."
"Gerde! Don't say anything to Gabriel. Please?"
Smirking, Gerde only said, "Get ready for guests, Grace. Celeste--remember her?--and Gabriel's friend Franklin Mosely are coming this afternoon." Still giggling hysterically, Gerde walked out.
Grace said something unpleasant.
Plunking down a tray covered with pastries, tableware, coffee, and juice, Grace produced a small bottle from her pocket.
"Here," she said, unceremoniously dropping some pills in front of Gabriel. "If your head is anything like mine, you'll need these."
"Thanks." He looked at her. She looked away.
After swallowing the pills he took a swig of coffee. Turning his head quickly, he saw Grace staring at him. She looked away again.
"What's wrong?" he asked, reaching for her hand. She pulled it away and took a glass of juice.
"Gracie."
Without looking at him, Grace said, "Mosely and Celeste are coming in today."
"Somehow I don't think that's the answer to my question."
She moved back to the pile of broken glass.
"Gracie?" She ignored him.
"Grace?" He was right behind her now. "I thought you might, y'know, wanna stay with me, after last night an' all."
Any large pieces of glass that remained shattered as she dropped them again.
Turning on him furiously, she barked, "The last thing I remember was not having any glasses left after we broke them! I don't know what happened last night, but whatever it was, it was a mistake!" She made to leave, but Gabriel caught her hand. The harder she pulled away the tighter he held.
"Grace, please. Talk to me?"
"You're hurting me."
He let go immediately. "Don't go, Grace?" He gestured toward the breakfast tray. "Why don't we eat. We can talk later."
"Fine." She stormed back, sat down, and began grimly dissecting a croissant.
Gabriel gave her a sidelong look, then rolled up next to her and snagged a danish.
After eating in silence for several minutes, Gabriel said, "So what was Gerde laughin' about? I could hear her up here."
Grace choked. Gabriel made a move toward her, but she fended him off. "Nothing. Not a thing," she said, finally.
"Oooooooo-kay." He knew enough to drop the matter.
More minutes passed.
"What's your favorite color?"
"What?" Grace was confused. "Why?"
"No reason. Just makin' conversation." Gabriel contrived to look innocent. "It just struck me that I've known you for over three years now, and I don't know your favorite color."
Grace opened her mouth to protest, but then realized she couldn't think of a single reason not to answer. "Green," she said at last.
"Huh." Green eyes shining, Gabriel said, "I've always liked black, myself." He gently brushed a strand of her soft, black hair from her cheek.
"You wore green the night of the opera, didn't you? I remember that."
"Yeah." She gave a swiftly smothered giggle. "And you wore red. I was scared out of my mind when I saw you on stage."
"You had a right to be." He took a gulp of coffee. "Gracie? What were you afraid of me seein' in that letter?"
"I don't want to talk about it." All the warmth faded away.
"I deserve to know, Grace."
"What difference does it make?"
"None. That's why I want to know."
She stared blankly at him. "That made no sense."
"I know."
Grace couldn't help herself. Laughing loudly, she told him what she remembered of it.
"I decided when I came back yesterday that I was going to tell you about the letter. I just didn't know how." Grace looked sheepish. "I kept if from you at first because I didn't want you to be tempted. I got rid of it later because I didn't want to remind you."
"You were worried I'd go that way because he admitted he used me and he was lonely?"
"It was the way he said it. It was so sad. I almost wanted to go with him. I didn't think you needed to have trouble with that, too. Then, like I said, I just wanted you to be able to forget about it."
"I never really forgot, you know. It's always right there. Gracie," he met her eyes, "it scares the sh*t outta me."
"What was it like, Changing?"
Taking a deep breath, he said, "I'll make you a deal. I'll answer that if you'll answer a question for me."
"What question?"
"Nope. You either agree or not, but you don't get a preview." Gabriel smirked.
"Then I get two questions, one of which you don't know."
They had moved gradually closer to each other through the exchange, any closer would involve touching. Grace backed away. "I get both of mine first," she added.
"Fair enough. What do you want first?"
"What was the Change like?"
He sighed. I don't remember a lot of it," he began, "but I'll try." He downed the rest of his coffee in one gulp. "At first it's like--have you ever had the flu? Where you're so sick that you're constantly fighting not to throw up? It was kinda like that, only a lot worse, and if you lost you didn't just throw up, you Changed.
"When the moon came up, or with that music playin', there was no fight. It was lost from the start. Then--well, when I was in the hospital I thought I was Changin'--it hurts that bad. It feels like havin' every bone in your body break, havin' your hair pulled out, and bein' set on fire. . . all at once. There's no real way to say what it feels like to have every muscle get up and move." His eyes were shadowed, his shoulders hunched in remembered misery. "It was horrible, watchin' things move under my skin, like there were snakes or somethin' inside me, crawlin' around, tryin' to get out.
"After if was over, I don't remember that much. Everythin' I remember is a feelin', not anythin' that happened. I remember feelin' trapped, an' I remember feelin' hungry. I remember that smell was everythin'--I could see in smells. I don't remember what they looked like, but I know that it did happen. I remember wantin' to run, and not bein' able to, and I remember wantin' to hunt. I remember wantin' to kill. I remember wantin' to rip out someone's throat, I remember wantin' to rip your throat out--" he broke off, horrified at how real the memories were, even after two years of trying to put them behind him.
Without his noticing, Grace had taken his hand. She gave it a gentle squeeze then wordlessly poured him more coffee. He gave her a wan smile and drank gratefully.
Two cups later, Grace said, "You still owe me one more answer, Gabriel."
"A deal's a deal. Be gentle with me." His grin looked rather forced.
"What happened last night? I don't remember anything after you broke your glass."
Staring into his cup, he only said, "Are you sure you want to know?"
"No, but tell me anyway."
"Do you want details? Or just a general overview?"
"The latter, if you please."
"Do you wa--"
"Gabriel," she warned. He laughed.
"Gracie, to put it mildly, you wouldn't take 'no' for an answer."
"But--how could--you're still hurt!"
Gabriel licked his lips and smiled sensually. "Yeah."
Grace blushed. She considered the implications and blushed harder. "Seeing as I don't think I could be anymore embarrassed than I am right now, what did I say? You mentioned that I said something. What was it?"
"You said that you didn't want to lose me." Capturing one of her hands, he added, "You said that you love me."
Reclaiming her hand, Grace asked, "Did I say anything else?"
"Yeah." His voice held a tinge of wounded pride. "But that falls under the details that you don't want to know."
"I don't know how I feel, Gabriel. I obviously care--otherwise I wouldn't be here--but there are times I don't want anything to do with you. Just, I don't know, leave me alone for a while." She moved to leave, but Gabriel stopped her.
"We made a deal, Gracie. You've had your two, I get a question now."
Fighting off simultaneous urges to sob, slap him, and hold him, Grace said, "Fair enough."
"I know I've been a real jackass to you. A pig. Hell, a whole menagerie, but there's one thing I need to know--how can I make it up to you?"
Grace was speechless for a long moment. "That was a low blow, Gabe." Seeing the smirk dawning on his face, she quickly went on, "I don't know what you can do, but," she smirked, herself, this time, "when I do you'll be among the first to know."
Before her common sense could even see the battle brewing, instinct kicked in, and Grace was kissing Gabriel. It went on for some time, Gabriel's hands in her hair, Grace caressing his face.
When she finally broke off, she announced, "Asking was a step in the right direction, though."
Last update: October 24, 2007
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