On Midnight Wings

Secrets. So many goddamned secrets.

“So,” Annie said, ending her latest figure eight and fuzzy-slippering to a halt beside him. “Didja learn anything?”

“You mean, aside from the fact that I’ll never get the stink of garlic out of these clothes?” Silver plucked at his T-shirt, nose wrinkling. “Yeah, I did. But I don’t want to repeat myself, so let’s wait until Merri gets back.”

Annie nodded, cigarette smoke streaming from both nostrils. “Good thing the clothes belong to Jack, huh? Looks like garlic is just another fucking myth as far as keeping nightkind away goes.”

“Pretty much—aside from the smell.”

“Hah. I knew there had to be a drawback to those supersenses.”

She eyed the twenty-four-hour tavern on the other side of St. Peter—Aunt Sally’s Tavern & Heavenly BBQ—her expression that of a bear who’d just stumbled across a salmon-stuffed ice chest. Exuberant zydeco music bounced from the tavern’s outside speakers in a nonstop, move-your-ass-and-come-on-in, blazing accordion rhythm.

“If you’re still hungry, we could grab a bite when Merri gets back,” Silver said.

“I ate less than an hour ago. I don’t know why I’m so freaking hungry.”

“Yeah, you do. Annie, you don’t hafta pretend with me. I know you’re pregnant.”

Annie stared at him. “Fuck.”

“Lucien found out when he peeked inside your head to see what had happened.”

“Fuck,” Annie groaned. “Mind-raping bastard.”

“More of a mental B and E.”

“Whatever. I know why he did it. I get that. But it doesn’t mean I have to fucking like it.”

“No,” Silver agreed softly. “It doesn’t.”

Annie puffed away on her cigarette in silence, expression guarded. Pale blue smoke jetted from her nostrils. Silver had no idea how far along Annie was, but he figured she couldn’t be too far gone. During the times they’d been together over the last couple of weeks, her belly had remained flat and firm beneath his skimming fingers.

When did chicks start to show, anyway? Three months? Five?

“Do you know who the baby-daddy is?”

“No clue. I hooked up with a couple of guys after I skipped out of the treatment center and got wasted—as usual. Who knows? Maybe I got knocked up at the treatment center.” At Silver’s arched eyebrow, she added, “Hey, I was bored. And I wasn’t the only one. Fucking seemed like a good way to pass the time.”

“Hey, no argument here. So what do you think you’re gonna do?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it right now.”

“Does Heather know?”

Annie sighed, nodded. “I told her that morning, the same morning that my asshole father stormed the place.” She spat into the gutter. “Prick.”

“My old man was a prick too. A boozed-up bullying loser who used his family for punching bags.”

“I hope you made the bastard pay.”

Silver shrugged. “I had more important things on my mind—like surviving. The Portland streets made my old man look like Mary Poppins.”

“How about after you were turned? Did you make him pay then?”

“Nah. I forgave him then.”

Annie stared at him. “The fuck? Forgave him? Why the hell would you do that?”

“I dunno. Maybe so I could live again. Maybe so I could leave the past and my old, unhappy life behind. Maybe because I had a new father—one who actually wanted me.”

“Huh,” Annie said, nonplussed. “Sounds like you missed one hell of an opportunity to me. I don’t think my dad deserves forgiveness for what he’s done. And he’s sure as hell not going to get it.”

“Hey, again, no argument here. I’m with you on this one. Some things you can’t forgive.”

“Exactly.” Annie sparked up a fresh cigarette from the butt of the old.

Watching her, Silver shook his head. “Smokes and booze ain’t exactly good for baby, y’know.”

“Neither’s having a bipolar fuckup of a mom,” Annie retorted. Old pain flared in her eyes, vanished. “I should know. I had one. And who says I’m even keeping it?”

“No one,” Silver replied. “That’s your decision, and I’m not trying to influence you one way or another on that point. But until you decide, maybe you should keep the booze and nicotine to a minimum. Just saying.”

“What’s it to you, anyway? It’s not like it’s yours. Dante told me that turned-nightkind shoot blanks.”

Silver rolled his eyes. “I know it isn’t mine. That’s not what this is about.” He dropped his gaze to the weathered sidewalk underneath his sneakers as he gathered his thoughts. Whenever he looked at Annie, he saw himself again on the Portland streets, desperate and alone, stubbornly shoving away what few friends he had because being alone was all he thought he deserved.

“What is it about, then?”

“Being your friend.”

Annie snorted. “Oh, don’t worry. My getting knocked up hasn’t changed your ‘with benefits’ status.”

Silver raked an exasperated hand through his hair. “Fuck, Annie, stop being a dick. Just for five minutes, okay?” He closed the distance between them. “I’m just saying you can talk to me. I’m here. You’re not alone. That’s all. Christ.”