Chapter 22 - Flint’s Story

Flint’s heart felt squeezed in a vice, watching Goldie pack, preparing to leave and never return. He knew exactly how she felt, what she was facing, and he couldn’t let her go without telling her so. As she bustled around the apartment gathering her and her sister’s stuff, pretending to ignore him, Flint’s story tumbled out like cold water.

“When I was nine years old, my family was involved in vampire hunting. It had been over a hundred years since anyone had seen a switch, but there were some shifters who still tried to fight the vampires. Sort of an informal resistance, mostly loners scattered around the country, a few motorcycle clubs. My uncle was in on it with some friends of his, and he got my dad involved. Mom went along, too; thought it was important to stand up to evil even if it was a losing battle.

“My dad and his friends had found a nest, and were trying to decide what to do about it. There were no switches, so the best the shifters could do was cut the vampires’ heads off their bodies and make it as hard as they could for one to find the other. So they were trying to plan how best to do that, but meanwhile none of them thought the vampires would come to us.”

He rested his shoulders on the wall, tilting his head back and closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at Goldie as she prepared to desert him. “We were having a quiet night at home, just playing games and cooking dinner and relaxing. I was closest to the door, so they hit me first when they came in. One of them slashed me across the neck and I went down. I could hear the struggles but I was in shock, and then I passed out. I guess they thought I was dead.”

The coppery smell of blood filled Flint’s nostrils as he remembered waking up to the worst nightmare he could imagine. His voice sounded hollow to his own ears. “They killed my father, my mother, even my teenage sister, Daisy. I thought for a minute Mom was alive because I saw something move near her, but I rolled her over and found Bryce, all wrapped up in blankets and smiling, like always. She’d fallen over him and kept him hidden, so the vampi-” Flint’s voice broke and he stopped, remembering the flood of relief when he’d found Bryce alive and unhurt. Small, heartsick relief, but better than none at all.

Goldie was still packing, but she’d slowed to a crawl as she listened. “Mom had told me that if anything happened to them I was supposed to get to Nantahala and my uncle Bruce’s house. That he’d take care of me.”

“So that’s what I did. I packed up my baby brother and as much food as I could carry for a journey that I had no idea how to make. I was nine. If Instinct hadn’t guided me, we would both be dead. By the time we showed up in Nantahala it was almost three months later and I was nearly dead from the wound on my neck. My uncle had been killed the same day as my family was attacked. Also by vampires. There was no one left.”

Flint could still taste the visceral fear that had shot through him when he learned his uncle was dead. He had had no idea what was going to happen to them, wasn’t even sure he was going to live, and had almost broken under the terrible weight of failing Bryce. “Molly and Hernando took us in, raised us. Jameson was an uncle of sorts. We had a good life, considering.”

By this time Goldie had gone still, her back to Flint as he poured out his heart without any hope of success. “So please believe me when I say I know exactly what I’m offering, Goldie. I would die to keep you and Darby safe.”

Finally she turned to look at him and Flint flinched at the sadness in her eyes. Whether she believed him or not, she still believed she was going to have to leave, and he was going to have to let her. But not today, dammit. “Please. Give me a chance. I promise I won’t let you down.”

He saw the moment she relented, the way her shoulders slumped as the weight came off, however temporarily. “We’ll see how it goes. But someone has to be with her all the time. Promise me.”

Flint couldn’t get the words out of his mouth fast enough. “Promise. Every second. Now c’mere.” When he pulled at Goldie’s hand she didn’t resist, but melted into his arms and against his whole body like she was made to be there. For a few breaths Flint could only hold her close, thankful he got the opportunity again for however long it lasted, and let the bright green of her lively herbal scent fill his head. Then Goldie tilted her face to meet his gaze, and all he could think about was putting his lips on hers, breathing her in as deeply as he could while he still had the chance.

He kissed her. Old plans fell away. New plans took their place.

The sound of the front door opening startled her. Goldie pulled away from Flint’s arms as Darby rounded the corner with attitude blazing. “Now what, Goldie? Seriously, if we didn’t win the lottery, you must have lost your damn mind. I was working!”

Bryce’s merry laughter carried down the hall. “Give ‘em hell, Pinkie Pie.”

Goldie blushed and glanced at Flint, then her sister. “Yeah, sorry, false alarm. Your stalker delivered another letter, but Flint convinced me we don’t have to run out of town just yet.”

Darby arched one perfectly-drawn eyebrow in his direction. “Bless it.”

Flint wasn’t sure what that meant, and he didn’t care. Not even Darby’s sharp tongue could cut him tonight. “I know what it’s like having a crazy roommate.” He winked at Goldie and was surprised to see the warmth in her face when she smiled at him. Almost adoringly. He liked it. Would do anything to see more of it.

He held her gaze for longer than necessary, his emotions jumbling in a way he wasn’t used to. When she looked away, he knew something he hadn’t known a moment before. He was all-in. Not just for The Cause, but for her, for Goldie, and what he suspected they could be together.

Now if he could just find her Resonant, he could prove to himself that he deserved her.