Jeanne Stein - The Becoming

No wonder Avery said my secrets would be safe.

There is a break in conversation, and Avery urges me to join the group. But I feel as out of my element as my off-the-rack dress is to the designer suits in front of me.

Avery's voice comes from behind me and I jump.

You look wonderful , he says a second time. That color is perfect with your hair and complexion and silk flatters your figure.

You are a beautiful woman, Anna. Don't worry that you can't compete.

I was thinking about my dress, I reply archly. I have never worried about competing.

He smiles.

Well, I haven't , I repeat. It sounds childish, even to my ears.

God, what if they heard?

So much for first impressions. My eyes turn back to the group, but talk seems to have resumed, and no one is looking our way. If they picked up on any of that, it's not apparent. I touch Avery's arm.

Can we go somewhere else to talk? I gesture toward the fireplace. I'm not ready for this yet.

He looks a little disappointed, but he doesn't try to dissuade me. Instead, he leads me back out to the foyer, where he heads to the right and toward another set of double carved wooden doors. He passes in front of me to swing one of the doors open, and I follow him in.

This is the library.

I raise an eyebrow at him. No kidding? Is that what you call a room with hundreds of books? A library? I'm glad you cleared that up. Avery, I may live on the other side of the tracks in Mission Beach, but I do read.

He doesn't appreciate my sarcasm. I can't catch what he's thinking, but there's no mistaking the set of his jaw or the suggestion of annoyance hovering in his eyes.

I can't catch what he's thinking. Why is that?

"I'm sorry,” I say aloud. “I'm a little nervous."

The apology does the trick. He relaxes, physically and mentally, and opens his mind to me once again.

You have to teach me to do that, I tell him, shaking a finger. You didn't mention that you can shut yourself down when you want, did you?

A faint light sparkles in the depths of those green eyes. I'm not going to divulge all my secrets right away. Otherwise, you won't need me anymore. Would you like a drink?

Red wine, if you have it.

This time he raises an eyebrow. I think I can find something you'll like.

He moves away from me and toward a large sideboard. With a push of a button, a door slides open. Inside the lighted cabinet, crystal decanters wink and sparkle like so many jewels on a bed of velvet. He chooses one, pours two glasses, and beckons me to follow him.

We find ourselves on a wide balcony hovering over the dark Pacific many feet below. I can't see anything except the vast emptiness of the ocean, but I can hear the waves.

He hands me a glass. Hope you like this. It's from my family's vineyards.

Oh, you're from Napa Valley?

He has the glass to his lips, but just stops himself from taking a sip as a gurgle of laughter erupts. No , he says, not Napa. Provence.

Provence ? As in France?

He smiles. It's the same kind of smile I used to give slow students.

Okay. So I forgot for a minute that you're probably a thousand years old with roots that go back to the Stone Age. I told you, I'm not quite with the program yet. You have to cut me some slack.

Avery still has that smile on his face, but he's taken a seat on a chaise longue and motions with his glass for me to join him.

I take a seat opposite him and raise my glass for the first taste of a wine I suspect I'll never be able to afford. I don't expect to like it, either, so I'm quite caught off guard by the sublime flavor. It's rich and dry and tastes elemental, as though made of earth and sea as well as grape. I take a second sip and smile.

You like it.

I do. And yes, I'm surprised. I've never been a connoisseur of wines. I don't have the palate for it, or so I've always thought.

I raise the glass. Or is this another acquired vampire thing? Blood and wine, elixirs of life?

Avery laughs, tilting his head as he watches me over the top of his glass. No it's not a vampire thing. Not really. But you will find you've misjudged a lot of things, Anna.

His eyes lock me in their gaze for a long moment. I can't read him again, but suddenly something vaguely sensual passes between us.

I pull myself away, and stand up. This isn't what I came here for.

He stands, too. I know. You came to talk about Max.

Max. Yes. Just saying his name snaps me back. I look toward the windows across from us and into the living room, where the fire reflecting on the glass catches two figures in stark relief. A man and a woman.

I look at Avery. They aren't all vampires?

He shakes his head. No. The wife of Police Chief Williams and the husband of Deputy Mayor Davis are mortal.

I look back at the two. Do they know—?

That their spouses are Vampire? Yes, of course.

And they accept it?

What they accept is a life bountiful beyond their wildest dreams. It is the vampire who suffers in such a union.

It's not what I expected to hear. I turn to look at him. Avery's face is set, his eyes hooded. You don't approve.

It's not my place to approve or disapprove, he retorts shortly.

But why did you say it's the vampire that suffers?

He turns his face away from me. You will learn the answer to that on your own.

He returns to the library and the sideboard where he pours himself another glass of wine. He doesn't offer me a second glass or return to the balcony. He takes a seat behind a large desk in the middle of the room and waits for me to join him inside.

I don't understand the abrupt change in his attitude and demeanor, but he's shut himself off from me again, and I have no choice. I answer the summons.

He waits for me to take a seat across from him before beginning.

We have important things to discuss. It's getting late and I must return to my guests. If you don't wish to accompany me, I suggest we get down to business.

I nod, but my paranoia springs back. How do I know the people in the other room can't hear us?

Avery tilts his head. Listen.

I do. Soft music, classical, something low and sweet drifts on the air from hidden speakers. I listen harder. Below the music, a hum. White noise?

He nods.

Prevents thought transference from room to room. I value my privacy. I protect that of my guests.

That electrical circuit thing you mentioned?

He nods again.

I hesitate, but for just a moment. I have to trust Avery.

Max is an undercover agent with the DEA. His life depends on keeping our relationship a secret. He only visits me when it's absolutely safe. I never know when he'll show up, so I need to know how you found out about his visit.

Avery purses his lips. He's closed his mind so I can only wait until he's ready to reply. But the fact that all of a sudden, this mind reading is a one-way street is beginning to grate. I make it a point to let him know it.

You'll learn the trick soon enough, he fires back. Now do you want an answer to your question?

I swallow down the caustic retort I want to fling across at him and just say , yes.

You are the one being watched.

Me? Why?

I told you this afternoon. You may be in danger. You don't have all your powers yet. It's our custom to protect fledglings, so to speak, until they find their wings.

And you didn't think it important to tell me this?