Grasp Heart

Chapter 31: Interrogation

Yawning, I locked up the house behind me and moved to walk down the gravel drive. I'd entrusted the research to Kira while Mason had helped me speed through all of my late and upcoming homework. It was eleven at night before it was all done. There was a light drizzle that pattered on the canvas of my rain jacket now, overshadowing the sounds of the patchy forest-meadows around me.

Mason's BMW idled just beyond the line, its windows tinted far too dark to see inside. Yet I could almost sense his strong concentration from within. He was likely staring in the exact wrong direction. When I came up to the passenger's side and opened the door, I could see a startled surprise alight in his eyes. Minty vampire-scent wafted out to greet me.

"Good morning," he said, managing to keep his tone even as I placed my backpack at my feet and shut the door.

I smiled, "Confused?"

"Very," he admitted, dropping the attempt at indifference, "My car's electronics started to falter too."

"Yes," I said smugly, "Now that's a complex bit of spellwork. We've had to evolve each time the humans did, accounting for their inventions with new spells to keep up. It's one thing to keep out vampires, it's another to also confound the vehicle a vampire's inside of."

"You can cast spells?"

"Not... that kind."

Reorienting took a while, he kept checking the car's internal compass in an attempt to set himself straight.

"This way."

I pointed through the passenger's side window after another five-point turn.

"How does the road wind back upon itself so much?" he wondered, following the direction of my finger.

"It doesn't, it just seems that way to you," I said patiently.

The windshield wipers worked hard to clear away little crystal droplets.

"You said, yesterday, that it was impossible to be two different occult at the same time," he hedged as we made it out to the main road, "But you talk about magic like you can do it."

"If it's okay, could that just be between us?" I murmured, glancing anxiously at him, "I'm becoming more comfortable talking to you, but I still should be cautious..."

"Of course."

He kept his curious gaze strictly on the road.

"I didn't say it was impossible for one vessel to hold multiple types of magics," I explained softly, staring out the windshield. The rhythmic swipe of the wipers picked up as we got out on the main road. "I just said that it was difficult."

"Difficult..."

"That's all I'll give you."

He rolled his greedy-green eyes, shooting me a petulant glare, "There's plenty I can interrogate you about that's not taboo."

"Such as?"

"Your favorite color," he said solemnly, a mischievous grin crooking one-side of his mouth.

"Hm," I started, thinking on that, "Well, with my gray eyes and warm skin, I'm classified as a soft autumn - "

"That's different. You can like a color that doesn't look good on you."

"I don't like thinking about things too hard."

"It's just your favorite color."

Scowling, I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Sorry," he apologized quickly, a crooked grin spreading across his face in spite of himself, "Do continue."

"Pale creams, pinks, and warm browns are very cozy and I probably like those best. But I like the color of mountains too: greens, purples and blues. What about you?"

"Gray, like the clouds that sit on the horizon after a pale dawn," he answered unthinkingly, then grimaced.

"Like these?" I wondered, glancing up through the windshield.

"No, no. When the sky is mostly clear."

"You mean when the sun is shining?"

I raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Sunset is a little too strong, but the first few seconds of a sunrise are bearable," he said, squeezing the steering wheel on and off in his chagrin, "I can withstand long enough to see."

"Why?"

"Why try to see a sunrise?" he clarified, incredulous, "Because I've lived in eternal night and rain for the last hundred years. The invention of UV blocking glass has helped some, but we still have to close our curtains when the sun is at its highest in the day."

"I suppose that is only natural," I whispered, my turn for embarrassment, "So your favorite color is gray because it reminds you of the sunrise? Why not yellow?"

"Uh, well," he squeezed the steering wheel again, "It used to be bright yellow, like the sun itself, but recently switched to gray."

"Recently," I echoed, resting my elbow on the center console and leaning in to inspect his expression.

"What is your favorite gemstone?" he asked unthinkingly.

"Emerald," I answered automatically then raised a finger, "This is question for question, by the way. And we each answer our own."

"That seems fair," he allowed, "I suppose I like diamond but I don't think about jewelry much."

"Gemstones have various supernatural and magical properties; it's good to know about them."

"I'll keep that in mind. Why Emerald, then?"

I hesitated with a small frown. Despite my little fun-fact, I didn't have a particular reason for liking emerald. In fact, I'd liked moonstone until recently.

I glanced over at Mason and he broke his concentration to meet my gaze with quizzical, green eyes. With a sigh, I turned my gaze out the side window.

"What's your favorite song?" I asked.

He chuckled. We drew close to the school, finally getting wadded up in a little line of traffic turning in. Large, consistent rain-plunks blurred together like white noise. They fell and smeared across the windshield.

"Mahler's Symphony Number Two, but I've playing Liebestraum Number Three in my free time recently."

"Dreams of Love?" I raised my eyebrows playfully as his head snapped toward me.

"I didn't realize you'd know that."

He ran an embarrassed hand through his tousled hair.

"That isn't an obscure piece."

"Among pianists."

"I dabble. Not as proficient as with violin, but I know a few things. We could learn a duet sometime, if you'd like."

"I'd like that," he smiled.

"As for my song, I'm a fan of the eighties power ballads."

"The eighties were unbearable!"

"Oh stop, they were iconic."

He slid into a parking space with ease and turned to look at me in a new light, green eyes sparkling with tentative excitement. I gave into a secretive smirk and scooped my backpack into my lap. With a smooth movement, he grasped my wrist before I wrung it through the strap.

With watchful eyes on my expression, he brought the back of my hand to his lips and planted a kiss gracefully upon my knuckles. His cool lips sent little tingles into my hand and up my arm. My heart skipped a beat and he smiled mischievously at the sound.

"Let's not make you late to calculus," he whispered, "When we meet again, the next question is mine - "

"Ah-ah," I chastised, flipping my hand under his to capture his fingers. I pulled the captive hand to my lips to brush them along his ring finger, looking up at him from beneath my lashes as I did so. "You asked two questions in a row to start. I get a second before we begin trading one-for-one. Fair?"

He swallowed, but nodded his agreement.