Part 10 (1/2)

”He still does the pie thing, huh? Jesus,” she said, then looked up at the waitress. ”Give me the pancake platter, please, with a side of sausage links.”

While Lina ordered for Brandon, Tessa caught sight of Rene emerging from the restroom. He walked back toward the table, but when his eyes momentarily met hers, he looked away.

I'm sorry, Tessa thought unhappily. Please stop being angry with me, Rene.

”You and your pie,” Lina remarked as he sat down again. When he just looked at her, clearly at a loss, she laughed again. ”Tessa ordered for you. Three slices of cherry pie. You've always been a pie junkie. I remember you used to make special detours in the squad car just so you could hit this one bakery on East Twenty-second street and get-”

”I think today I'll have eggs,” Rene interjected, holding up his hand to flag the waitress back to the table. When she returned, he said, ”Eggs, ma chere. Hard-scrambled, with hash browns, b.u.t.tered toast and bacon.”

”No pie?” the waitress said, and he shook his head.

”No thanks.” He spared Tessa a momentary, withering glance. ”I'm not really in the mood.”

By the end of the meal, Tessa had barely touched her oatmeal, letting it grow cold, hardened to near-mortar consistency in the bottom of her bowl. She moved robotically, sullen and quiet, as the four of them left the restaurant together and exchanged good- byes in the parking lot.

”We'll see you in Rillito,” Lina said, giving Tessa a hug and a smile. If she noticed anything tense or strained in Tessa's demeanor, she didn't mention it, but Brandon did.

What is going on? he thought as Lina and Rene conferred over the map one last time. Brandon hooked his hand against the crook of her elbow and led her aside, looking her in the eyes, his brows furrowed slightly in concern.

Nothing, she replied.

Tessa... he began, but she shrugged away from him. It's nothing, Brandon. I told you-I'm just tired.

He wasn't buying it, not one bit. He'd known her too long and too well, and she could tell just by looking at him that he knew she was feeding him a line of s.h.i.+t. His feelings were hurt; she could tell that by looking, too, and felt badly. During the four years of her marriage, he hadn't understood why she'd kept herself so distant, both emotionally and physically from everyone in the n.o.ble family, but most of all from him.

When the Grandfather had broken Brandon's hands, Martin had begrudgingly agreed to let Tessa return to the great house to help tend to her twin, a concession he'd offered because Tessa's father, Sebastian, had come and practically pleaded it from him. She'd often imagined that Martin had enjoyed that moment of her father's anguish and had reveled in not only the opportunity to watch Sebastian beg a favor of him, but to be in a position of power enough over the n.o.ble house to grant it. During her brief return, however, Brandon hadn't wanted much to do with her. Unable to write or sign, he'd refused to use psi-speech much, no matter how much she'd tried to initiate conversation with him. He'd told her once, in a quick exchange, that the Grandfather had forbidden him to use his telepathy and he was in trouble enough without inviting more on himself. But she'd known the truth-he had been angry with her for her absence and hurt by it.

I stayed away to protect you, Brandon. She wished so desperately that she could make him understand. And myself. I didn't want you to think badly of me, or worry about me, and I knew if you realized what Martin was doing...the way he treated me...that you'd try to protect me somehow.

They were only just now reconnecting, rediscovering the closeness that had always bound them to each other, and she could tell from his expression he felt wounded that she wouldn't confide in him.

It's not because I don't want to. I'm ashamed, Brandon. I'm ashamed of what I did and it's bad enough Rene won't talk to me now. I don't want you to be angry with me, too.

She made herself smile for him; forced herself to hold it until his expression softened, the worry in his eyes fading.

You'd tell me, wouldn't you? he asked and he reached out, brus.h.i.+ng the cuff of his newly mended fingers against her cheek. If there was something wrong? Whatever it is, Tessa, I'd be here for you. I love you.

She hugged him, holding him fiercely for a moment and closing her eyes as tears flooded her eyes again. I know, Brandon. I love you, too.

She sat rigidly in the pa.s.senger seat of the Audi, her shoulders hunched, and flinched as Rene lowered himself into the driver's side, slamming the door hard enough to rock the little sports car.

”Are you sure you're okay to drive?” she asked in a small, hesitant voice. ”With your hand, I mean?”

”I'm fine.” He fired up the engine and dropped the car in gear. She didn't miss the way he gripped the steering wheel lightly, gingerly with his injured hand, or the wince that momentarily twisted his brows.

The tension in the car was thick enough to stifle. Rene drove out of the restaurant parking lot and across the street, pulling up to a gas station and killing the engine. ”I need to fill up,” he said, reaching for the door handle and wincing again as he forced his fingers to grasp it.

”Rene.” Tessa caught him by the sleeve. All she'd said was his name, but already, she could feel tears welling up, threatening to choke her.

He glanced at her, his brows narrowed slightly, draping his eyes in stern, disapproving shadows. It might have been her imagination, but at the sight of tears glistening in her eyes, some of that severity in his face seemed to abruptly falter.”I want to talk to you about this morning,” she said, forcing her voice out. ”About what happened. I...I didn't mean...”

”Don't worry about it.” He drew his arm away.

”But you're upset,” she protested. ”I just want to explain. Please, Rene.”

He looked at her for a moment, his face unreadable. ”What's to explain, pischouette?” he asked at length. ”It's happened before.

Plenty of times. I'm used to people staring at my leg.”

Tessa blinked in surprise. ”What?”

”And while I don't normally keel over in the bathtub like that, it doesn't mean I'm not used to people gawking,” he continued, his voice growing sharper, his brows narrowing again. ”I mean, after all, it does come with the territory and all-good ol' Rene, half a man, the poor cripple gimping around on his Tin Man leg, no?”

What? Tessa thought, so caught off guard, for a moment, she couldn't speak. ”What are you talking about?” she managed finally.

”The Tin Man-you know, from The Wizard of Oz,” Rene told her dryly, leaning over to rap his knuckles demonstratively against the t.i.tanium shaft of his prosthetic calf. ”What? Is that too far before your time, pischouette? You don't have TNT on your cable channels out there in Kentucky?”

He hadn't realized after all. He has no idea, she thought.

”I don't care about your leg, Rene,” she said with a frown, feeling her own anger stoking slightly at the confrontational edge to his voice. When he uttered a mean little bark of laughter, her frown deepened. ”I don't give a s.h.i.+t about that, Rene.”

”Ah, vraiment?” he asked, arching his brow. Oh, really? ”Then what were you gawking at this morning, pischouette? Cause if it wasn't my stump, your eyes were sure bugging halfway out of your skull over something.”

He has no idea, she thought again, and in that moment, she clammed up, pressing her lips together, too ashamed to admit the truth: I was looking at your blood, Rene. I wanted to feed from you.

When she said nothing, his brow raised all the more. ”Voila,” he said and he pivoted, opening the car door and swinging his leg around.

She watched him get out of the car and slam the door behind him, sending another shudder through the Audi's sleek frame. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek; she rubbed at it with her fingertips. How could things have gone from so wonderful last night-like something out of a dream-to this, like something out of a nightmare?

She got out of the car and stood beside it for a long, uncertain moment, watching as he pumped gas and deliberately kept his eyes turned away from her. The longer he ignored her, the more incensed and hurt she became. Why would he think his leg matters to me? Didn't last night prove anything? Didn't it mean anything to him?

And then it hit her with all of the shocking force of a slap in the face.

It didn't. It didn't mean anything at all to him.

Rene cut her a glance over the Audi's roof. ”Get in the car, pischouette.”

No different than anything he's ever done with his hookers, she thought. That's how he sees last night. That's how he sees me-no different than one of his hookers.

Another tear fell and again, she swatted it away. ”You know something, Rene?” she said, trembling with sudden outrage, pain and shame. ”You really are the Tin Man, but it doesn't have a G.o.dd.a.m.n thing to do with your leg. Neither one of you has a heart.”

She turned and marched toward the convenience store entrance. Her tears spilled out along the way, despite her struggle to contain them. She rubbed her cheeks furiously with her hands as she stepped inside the shockingly cold, air-conditioned store.

”You okay, honey?” the woman behind the counter asked, even though Tessa knew it was pretty d.a.m.n apparent that, for the moment at least, she was anything but okay.