Solstice

SECRETS

I put on my Ray-Bans, not wanting to catch the eye of any curious onlooker, and hurried towards my favourite bar. Truthfully, I'd preferred the hipster vibe of Calvin's place, but, after what he did to Alice, I didn't think it was safe for me to be anywhere near him – and Edward would be very upset. In this instance, I really wouldn't blame him. Calvin was an awful, awful excuse for an immortal being.

I stopped into a little boutique and bought the dress I saw in the window for Alice, thinking it would suit her – it was gunmetal grey silk, straight to the knee, with elbow-length sleeves and a chiffon sash – and hurried on to Cerruti's. I wanted a proper cocktail today. I knocked on the door and waited the customary three seconds, but no-one came. Frowning, I glanced at my watch: it was five forty-five. Surely they should be open by now? I knocked again, louder this time, and the little grille snapped back. A dark eye, that looked worried to my mind, examined me, and the door opened.

'Is everything all right?' I asked hesitantly – I didn't want to get up in anyone's business – and the doorman shrugged his shoulders.

'Hard to say,' he told me cryptically. With another shrug, he hurried up a narrow flight of stairs through a door masked by a red velvet curtain. I hadn't noticed them before, and wondered where they went. Still, I wasn't going to snoop around, so I descended the long flight of stairs and made my way through the cellars to the bar. Georgia was sitting there, her fingers clenching the polished wood, dark glasses also covering her eyes. When she saw me, her lips trembled.

'Could I have a jug of bull's blood and brandy?' I asked the bartender, the one with the astonishing light-green eyes. 'And two glasses?' I said tentatively, and Georgia gave a swift nod, staring down at the counter. The bartender made up the jug for me, using the best cognac – I could tell by the scent – and I ushered Georgia to a table in the far cellar, away from curious eyes. 'You never got back to me,' I murmured, so low only she could hear. She nodded.

'I'm sorry. I didn't want to bother you with my problems.'

'I offered, though, so I obviously want to hear them. Help, if I can.' I didn't know where this confidence was coming from, but I decided to go with it: it felt strange, but also refreshing. Liberating. 'Can I help?'

In response, she took off the short leather bomber jacket she wore over a sleeveless gold silk dress. She stared at me as I looked her over, uncertain as to what I was supposed to be seeing. And then I saw it. A thin line between her shoulder and her upper arm.

Someone had torn her arm off.

'Did he do that?' I breathed, my eyes burning with rage, and she nodded.

'He's just left. He was trying to get me to go with him, but after he did this to me the other night...' She shrugged. 'He's like a drug to me,' she whispered, and her lip trembled again. 'I'm addicted to him. It's like that imprinting they talk about, you know where werewolves are genetically fixated on a person –'

'One imprinted on my daughter, so I saw it up close. So I understand,' I told her, laying my hand over hers. Her fingers twitched, but she didn't move her hand away.

'I'm afraid he's going to kill me. One minute he loves me, the next minute he hates me – but it's worse than hate. It's contempt. His eyes go completely blank, and I know that something terrible is going to happen, but I can't even fight him off. I freeze.' She drained her glass, and I refilled it. 'I know I have to get away from him, but I just can't find it in myself to go.'

'You can stay with me, if you need to. We're a large coven. There's nine of us altogether,' I murmured, and her eyes widened. 'Yeah, I know. But we aren't really the norm. But then, I didn't know this was the norm in big cities,' I said, gesturing to the bar populated by vampires. 'Any time you need to get out of there, don't hesitate to call me. Any time you need me to come to you, you call me.'