The Black Swan Page 7

  “With his vampyre?”

  “Yes.”

  “Were they fighting?”

  “They were. They were British soldiers, and they did their duty. But when the war was over and they returned home, Great-gramps told tales of the beautiful land, the rolling hills and lush valleys. So once the family had reached the safety of America, they traveled to Braddockville and settled there.”

  “Because that’s kind of like the black swan capital of the South.”

  “It is.” Gramps chuckled and lowered his voice. “And just like most of the families in the area, Poynters intermarried with Littleburys and Grangers.”

  Before Noah could ask Gramps what he meant, Pop stormed into the room. “What baloney are you feeding the boy, Dad?” When had he returned home? He’d obviously overheard them, and he was steamed—Noah was pretty sure he’d wanted to say bullshit.

  “Noah, go to your room!” But…did Pop sound scared?

  “Gamble—”

  “No, Dad. I told you never to…Noah, didn’t I tell you to go to your room?”

  “Yes, Pop.” Noah didn’t object that he hadn’t done anything wrong; he just went.

  Gramps patted his shoulder as he headed for the stairs. “It’s okay, Noah.”

  But was it? Because he could never forget the last time Pop had sounded scared.

  Even though Noah hadn’t been quite four, he remembered the night before his family left Braddockville as clear as a bell.

  Mom had gotten him out of bed and brought him into the kitchen. Half-asleep, he hadn’t paid much attention to the woman who was sitting at the kitchen table. She took his hand and traced the lines on his palm with her fingertips. It tickled, though, and he peeked at her through the hair that fell into his eyes and giggled.

  “Well?” Pop sounded tense.

  She sat back and nodded. “He is. And he’ll belong to—”

  “No!” Pop roared, making Noah jump and stick his thumb in his mouth. “I won’t have that for my son and especially not with that…that…” Pop couldn’t seem to find a word that was harsh enough to describe whatever it was he wanted to describe.

  “It’s his destiny,” the woman said. She might have been any age, but to Noah she looked ancient.

  “Destiny be damned! Leave my house, Morwen!”

  The woman stroked Noah’s hair and murmured something in a language he didn’t understand. Then she turned her gaze on Pop for a long moment. “Try as you might, Noah will not be able to escape what life has in store for him.” She left, and Mom brought him back to bed, hushing him when he tried to ask questions.

  And the next day they left Braddockville.

  Noah could never understand why his pop had decided to move the family to Wittington, which was seventy-five miles northwest of Braddockville. Even though members of the extended family still lived in Braddockville, they had to drive to Wittington if they wanted to visit for holidays or birthdays.

  That was why Gramps was visiting. Noah would be eight tomorrow. Having been born on the Fourth of July, he really was a Yankee Doodle Boy.

  His brothers had grumbled about the move for a while—they’d had to leave their high school and their friends, but before too long they made new friends. And when they began dating new girls almost every weekend, they stopped complaining entirely.

  As for Noah, he was happy here. He made new friends of his own, went to a great new school, and as far as he was concerned, life was terrific.

  But…

  What had scared Pop so much?

  * * * *

  Chapter 2

  The first time Noah saw Gabriel Granger was on September 15, 2006, when Gabriel walked into the Golden Circle Tavern. Noah couldn’t even say he’d met Gabriel; they didn’t exchange a single word.

  Noah had turned fifteen earlier that summer, and while he couldn’t tend bar, he was permitted to bus the tables, wash the glasses, and sweep the floor. His brothers didn’t care for running the tavern, so Pop had promised when he was older, he would learn the ins and outs of ordering beer, wine, and liquor and how to mix drinks.

  His family had owned the Golden Circle since they’d moved to Wittington. He guessed they’d had a tavern in Braddockville also, because from what Noah had overheard Pop saying to his brothers Jess and Frank, they’d been publicans in Oxfordshire since the time of Bonnie Prince Charlie.

  That night he looked up to see the most gorgeous being who’d ever come to the Golden Circle.

  Noah leaned over the bar. “Who is that?” he asked Allyn, the older brother who was tending bar that night. Noah had known right away what the being was: a vampyre. Most of the good citizens of Wittington were unaware that the Golden Circle catered on occasion to creatures of the night. They looked like normals for the most part, and no one suspected.

  “That’s Gabe Granger. Don’t bother him.”

  “Okay.” Startled by how hard his dick had become just from gazing at the vampyre, Noah ducked his head and began industriously drying a highball glass.

  Before this, he’d just thought maybe he hadn’t met a girl who turned him on. But now…

  Gabriel Granger—according to the local gossip, he came to Braddockville a few times every year to visit the graves of his black swans in the Braddockville Cemetery and commemorate the anniversaries of their deaths. He’d never come to Wittington before, not that Noah knew of.

  He kept sneaking glances at Gabriel. His gray eyes had splashes of purple in them, like heather on the moor—hey, he’d seen pictures. And that hair…it curled down to his shoulders, as dark as the night sky. He had to be a few inches taller than Noah, who was only five foot five. But Noah hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet. After all, the shortest of his older brothers was six feet tall, so he had reason to hope.

  He felt his cheeks heat when the vampyre caught him staring. He smiled at Noah, and Noah offered him a tentative smile in return. His breath caught in his throat and he couldn’t tear his gaze away when Gabriel began walking toward him.

  “Noah.”

  “Yeah, Pop?”

  “Noah.”

  He fumbled the glass, almost dropping it. “Uh…yes, Pop?”

  Abruptly, Noah’s father and every one of his brothers who still lived at home and were helping out at the bar tonight stood between him and Gabriel.

  “You’ve got homework.”

  “Huh? No, I—”

  “You’ve got homework. Do it.”

  “Yes, sir.” When Pop had that tone of voice, yes, sir was the only accepted response. Noah peeked around Allyn’s arm to steal a final glance at Gabriel, then set the glass and the towel on the bar and hurried out.

  It didn’t take long to walk home—the big house that the Poynters had lived in since they’d moved here wasn’t too far from the tavern.

  “You’re back early, Noah,” his mother observed as he entered the kitchen.

  “Pop said I should get my homework done.”

  “Don’t you usually finish it during study hall?”

  He shrugged, and she gave him the look that said I’m not going anywhere and neither are you until you spill the beans.

  “A vampyre came into the tavern—”

  “This isn’t one of your jokes, is it?”

  “No, Ma. I think the vampyre was coming over to say hello, and that’s when Pop said—”

  “—do your homework.” She stood there with her hands on her hips. “Does this vampyre have a name?”

  “Gabriel Granger.”

  Mom swore, something he never heard her do. “How do you know that?”

  “Allyn said—”

  “And he was coming toward you?”

  “It looked like it.”

  “Your father’s right. Go up to your room and…and do something to occupy yourself. Make sure your windows are closed and latched. And here. Take this.” She handed him a garlic bulb.

  “Yes, ma’am. G’night, Ma.” He kissed her cheek, opened the door off the kitchen that concealed the back stai
rs leading up to the second floor, and jogged up them. His family could be so weird.

  * * * *

  Noah did…something…just as his mother had instructed.

  He finished reading the chapters of A Tale of Two Cities his English teacher had assigned the class. He dutifully locked his windows and set cloves of garlic on the sills. Not that he was certain it would work, but he was an obedient boy. Finally, he got ready for bed. He left his shirt, jeans, and socks in a puddle on the floor—a small rebellion he would correct in the morning—and he stared down as his shorts tented in front of him.

  Is this what a crush feels like? he wondered.

  And wouldn’t it be amazing if Gabriel showed an interest in him? Not that Noah expected anything like that, because he was just a fifteen-year-old teenager and Gabriel was…Noah sighed dreamily…amazing.

  He went to the bathroom and washed his hands to remove all essence of garlic. He had plans for those hands.

  When he was done, he scurried back to his room, closed the door, and turned out the light. Then he lay on his bed, licked his palm, and reached into his shorts, imagining it was Gabriel’s hand and not his own that encircled and stroked his dick.

  This was even better than when he usually jerked off—he always felt uncomfortable thinking about the women who played superheroes in the movies, even though the other boys said they did it all the time.

  He slid his other hand into his shorts and cupped and rolled his balls. He braced his feet on the mattress, let his knees fall apart, and raised his hips. Curious, he ran a finger over the space behind his balls. That felt good. He bit his lower lip. Should he explore further? Breathing heavily, he decided he should. He licked his finger and touched his hole, then pushed in gently.

  Oh my God! Noah clenched his muscles and paused on the upstroke. Could he be…was that why…Oh, who cared? He left his finger in his butt while he teased his foreskin and ran his thumb over the tip of his dick, shivering as he swallowed a groan. This felt too amazing to question.

  A knock on his bedroom door jerked him out of the pleasure he was experiencing, and Noah jumped and gasped. “Y-yes?” He barely had time to get his hands out of his shorts and yank up the blankets before his father opened the door.

  “I’m sorry if I woke you, Noah. We need to have a talk.”

  Noah felt his stomach twist. Was Pop going to yell at him for being gay? But how could he know, when Noah had only just realized it?

  He pushed himself up into a sitting position, not having to worry about his erection because it had deflated as soon as he’d heard the knock on his door. “Have I done something wrong, Pop?”

  “No.” His father sat down beside him and rested a hand on his knee. “But you have to understand this—you’re not a black swan.”

  Now Noah really felt his stomach twist. “How can I not be?” Other members of his family had been black swans. Not that they’d all had a vampyre choose them, because Gabriel wasn’t the only vampyre in this country, although the Spanish one Noah had heard about had sounded like a nightmare. But—

  Pop shook his head. “You know not every child born of those lines is a black swan.”

  “Well, yes. But Gramps said!” He’d been so positive. Noah had been so positive.

  Pop ground his teeth. “Your grandfather is a dotty old man who has no idea what he’s talking about half the time. You are Not. A. Black. Swan.” When Pop took that tone…but Noah had to be sure.

  “Are you certain?”

  “I am. I’m sorry.” No, he wasn’t, but Noah couldn’t challenge him.

  He sighed, different from the dreamy one earlier. “Why are you telling me now?”

  “I saw the way that vampyre was looking at you. Make sure you stay away from him.”

  “Why, Pop? Everyone knows the only time he feeds from normals is during a war.” Whenever the cousins got together and the grownups weren’t around, Gabriel Granger was the prime topic of discussion.

  “Are you sassing me?”

  “No, sir.”

  Pop scowled at him. “Listen to me carefully. Gabe Granger has been without a black swan for more than thirty years.”

  “But if I’m not a black swan—”

  “That’s the point.” Pop’s voice rose with each word. “If he tries to feed from you, he’ll kill you.”

  But what a lovely way to go. Of course Noah didn’t say that. “All right, Pop. I’ll stay away from him.” Promising that nearly broke his heart, but he’d always obeyed his father, and he wouldn’t stop now.

  And seriously? Why would a vampyre of Gabriel’s caliber want a kid like Noah with his narrow chest and skinny chicken legs? Especially if he wasn’t even a black swan?

  “Good boy. I always knew you had a sensible head on your shoulders. Now, get some sleep. In the morning I’ll send you to Aunt Marjorie. You’ll be safe enough there until this is over.”

  This being the time Gabriel spent mourning his lost black swans. Jennie Hadley, whose mama had been a Littlebury, had been killed during the Battle of the Somme during the First World War, and Sam Granger had died on Heartbreak Ridge during the Korean War.

  “Yes, Pop.” Noah didn’t mind visiting his aunt in Charleston, but he really would have liked to see more of Gabriel.

  * * * *

  Four times a year for the next two years, Noah’s father sent him to visit relatives. Not just Aunt Marjorie in Charleston, but Uncle Wes up in New York and Uncle Clay out in Phoenix. The family really had gotten scattered.

  He didn’t visit his oldest brother Travis, though, or Chris, the brother who came right after him. Trav lived out in Hawaii with his girlfriend, who happened to be a vampyre. Yeah, Trav was a black swan.

  And where was the justice in that?

  As for Chris, he was the only brother married so far, but he and Lainie lived in Wittington also, so there was no point in visiting them in hopes of avoiding Gabriel.

  Not that Noah wanted to avoid Gabriel. He had the hottest dreams over the vampyre. But Pop said no.

  By the time Noah became a senior at Abraham Lincoln High, he had filled out and was no longer the skinny kid he’d once been. He even had a boyfriend—he couldn’t have Gabriel, so fine, but in that case he’d have Steven—and while Mom and Pop hadn’t been overjoyed, they hadn’t given him much of an argument over it.

  After he graduated, he left the boyfriend and the area to attend Brown University. At least it wasn’t as far north as Harvard, which Pop had been pushing for all of a sudden. Why would he think Noah would be happy being a lawyer when all he’d ever wanted to do was run the tavern in Wittington?

  * * * *

  Chapter 3

  Noah let himself into the kitchen. “Is it too late for me to have a snack before dinner, Ma?”

  “You can have an—oh my God, Noah. What did you do to your hair?”

  He ran a self-conscious hand over his freshly shorn scalp. “I got it cut. Like it?”

  “It’s…it’s so short.”

  “Well, I thought it was time for a change.”

  “But I thought you liked your hair the way it was.”

  He shrugged. “It’ll be easier to take care of this way.” Truthfully, he preferred his hair long, but what was the point when there was no one (Gabriel) to run his fingers through it. “I’m sorry you don’t like it.”

  “Noah. If this is how you want it…”

  “It was just a spur of the moment thing. You know what a heat wave we’ve been having. I’ll let it grow out.”

  She went to him and hugged him. “Are you sorry you broke up with Steven?”

  “No. He’s going to West Virginia Wesleyan and I’m going up to Brown, and I’m looking forward to meeting new people.”

  “All right. Did you want that apple?”

  “No, I guess I’ll wait for dinner. I…uh…I think I’ll go up to my room. I want to make sure I have all my important paperwork ready to go.”

  He could feel Mom’s eyes on him as he climbed the back stai
rs to the second floor, and he half expected her to call him back to set the table, but she didn’t say anything else.

  When he got to his room, he looked at himself in the mirror above his dresser. Getting his hair cut this short had really been a boneheaded idea. And when everyone gathered around the dining room table for dinner, they were all going to ride him about it.

  None of his brothers lived at home anymore, but since this was the last time Noah would be here until the winter break, they were making a point to have dinner with him.

  If he thought he could get away with it, he’d wear his Baltimore Orioles baseball cap, but Pop would never allow it. He couldn’t even get away with a doo rag.

  He turned away from the mirror and got together his insurance card, driver’s license—he didn’t have a car, but like every red-blooded American teenaged male, he could drive and when he needed wheels, he borrowed Mom’s minivan, a holdover from the days she’d had to drive him to baseball practice and other after school activities—and his checkbook, and all the papers the university had sent him.

  * * * *

  “Noah! Dinner,” Mom called from the foot of the stairs.

  He drew in a breath. Here goes nothing.

  Jess, Donovan, and Jim sat at their usual places, while Pop sat at the head of the table and Mom at the foot. There were two empty seats on either side of the table.

  “Allyn is having dinner with his fiancée and her parents,” Mom said. Of course she noticed him looking at the seats where his older brothers should have been.

  Well, so much for all his brothers being here. Noah nodded. “Where’s Frank?”

  “He’s working an extra shift to make up for taking off the next few days.”

  “Geez, he didn’t have to.” Although that did make two less to pick on his choice of hairstyle.

  “He did, kiddo. We need his pickup to transport your microwave and mini fridge. And you know he doesn’t like anyone else to drive his baby.”

  The family—except for Trav and his vampyre and Chris and his very pregnant wife—planned to drive up to Rhode Island in a convoy. Mom and Pop would be in the lead in the SUV, Noah would ride with Allyn in his Focus, and the remaining three brothers would be in Frank’s pickup.