Daybreak, BK 4 of the Lightwalkers

XVI - Carrie

Driving into town was harder on me than I thought it would be. Every turn brought up memories from a much happier time, but also all the pain from what came after.

I wiped at my eyes, determined to keep it together in front of the kids. I parked the car into one of the few parking spaces behind the only place I felt safe enough to return to. The only place I thought I could easily leave again in a few hours. The sun was well over the horizon now, but shadows cast by the few tall buildings filled the streets of the small downtown area. I leaned my head on the steering wheel, heaving a heavy sigh.

"You okay?" Remi asked from the backseat. He'd settled in and put a seat belt on, and had spent most of the ride on his phone. My guess was that he'd been in contact with the others of his group. I glanced around outside. Even though there wasn't anyone around, I didn't feel comfortable waiting out here.

"Yeah, come on. Let's get inside."

Jon shifted, drawing my attention to him. I reached over, touching his hand with one of my own. His skin was clammy, but growing a little warmer with the sun.

With Remi's help, I got Jon out of the car with his arm across my shoulder. He was awkward to hold, all bones and angles like any other teenage boy with his height. I adjusted his arm, trying to get him to stand a little straighter. Remi came in on Jon's other side, helping.

"Wha," Jon mumbled. He tried to lift his head, looking around with groggy eyes.

"We just need to get inside, Jon," I said to him. "Help us, okay? Just put one foot in front of the other."

The back ally was mostly used by the musicians to unload and reload equipment and to cool off after the show. An old couch sat along the wall of the building, the cushions torn. The sign on the back door of the bar was worn. 'Red's' was scribbled in red paint across it. Two years since I'd been here.

I tried the door and pushed it open when I found it unlocked. The house lights were on, showing a run-down looking bar. There were some booths along the far wall and the stage to the right of us. The floor between us and the bar was littered with tables and a small space to dance.

"Sorry, we're closed. You'll have to come back later tonight," a gruff voice called out from somewhere behind the bar.

I let the door shut behind us. "Even for an old regular like me?"

A loud thud and a stifled curse sounded under the counter before c Evan came into view. He was rubbing his head. "Damn it, Carrie."

Evan was a tall guy who still kept his hair cut close in that military-style even though he'd retired years ago.

"It's good to see you too." I looked back down at Jon again, nudging him a little. A mumble escaped from him. He'd fallen back asleep.

"He's a little young to be drinking, don't you think?" Evan said, clearing some boxes off the bar.

"He's just under the weather," I called out. "Would you mind if we hang out here for an hour or two, until our ride shows?"

Evan shrugged, bending back under the bar again. "I could care less. Go lay him in one of the booths. If he pukes though, you've got to clean it up."

I chuckled. "Alright."

Heading towards one of the darker corner booths, Remi I set Jon down on the worn pleather seat. I tossed my bag on the table as Remi laid him back gently. I pulled off my coat too, draping it over him. He wasn't in great shape, but he was still alive, well, in a sense. As much as a vampire could be alive anyway.

"You still drink Scotch?" Evan called from the bar. "Or has that changed in the while you've been gone?" The was a touch of anger in his voice. Looked like it was time to pay the piper.

I looked back at him, a sad smile escaping my lips. "No, it hasn't changed."

"I'll sit here with him," Remi said sliding into the booth.

"You want something to drink, too? Evan keeps soda and juice behind the bar as well."

Remi cocked me a half-grin that made me think he knew exactly what was stocked in a bar. "I'm fine."

I stepped over to the bar where Evan stood. He filled two glasses with some ice and poured some amber liquid in both.

"The kids want anything?"

"Nah, they're fine. This place hasn't changed."

"Nope, not hardly." He took a large gulp of his own drink before saying, "You did one hell of a number on Paul."

I stared at my glass, watching the ice melt in the warm liquor. "I know I did. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about him."

Evan set his glass down, crossing his arms. "So why'd you go?"

I looked up at him, then away. "There isn't an easy way to-"

"Easy, my ass! I spent months trying to sober him up again. He still isn't right, Carrie." Evan sighed and picked up his glass, downing the rest of his drink. "You owe him. You owe him more than that little note you left."

I winced. What was I supposed to say? I'm sorry, I got scratched by a magical feral cat and then spent the next year and a half uncontrollably turning into lions and tigers and any other kind of feline imaginable. Not to mention I'd been living with a bunch of werewolves and vampires. Because if I'd stayed, I might have accidentally killed the love of my life.

"I'm not happy about how I left him either. In fact, I really hate myself for leaving the way I did. But there wasn't another choice, and....and I didn't want him to hurt him."

"Hurt him?!" Evan looked as though he was going to have a fit. "Carrie, you-"

The back door opened, letting in a triangle of light. I jumped from my seat, ready to fight. I should have parked further down the road, or hidden the car-

"Sorry, Evan, Vi forgot her book..." Paul's voice drifted off as he caught sight of me. He stopped just past the stage, staring at me. "Carrie."

"Speak of the fucking devil," Evan said under his breath and reached under the bar. He set a thick textbook on the bartop next to me. "I'm just going to go, um...check the inventory. In the back."

Evan made his escape while Paul and I stared at each other. He hadn't changed, not much anyway. He looked a bit older, a few more lines at the corners of his eyes. His normally plain sandy hair had dark green strips dyed into it. I watched as he stepped closer. I'd forgotten just how tall he was. Tall and whip-cord thin. His pace was slow as if he were afraid I wasn't real.

"You're back," he said.

"No, not really. Just in town for a few hours." I reached back for my drink. I'd been planning on sipping on it, not really drinking much since it was so early and, hello, I had two minors with me.

That plan just fell to pieces. I took a gulp. I knew coming here would dig up old skeletons, but seeing Paul brought all that pain from the past right up to the present again. My face felt hot and tears threatened to spill. As much as I wanted to run into his arms, I stood still, gripping the bar for support, and prayed that he would forgive me.