Brimstone Blues

Chapter Thirteen

Matthias found Tim in the kitchen later that afternoon.

“I think I’m starting to feel human again after that drive.” Tim smiled, and Matthias laughed. “Don’t say it, Tim.”

He shook his head. “She’s a handful. I did warn you.”

“Yes, you did.” Matthias rinsed an apple under the tap and took a bite. “You certainly did, and I love everything about her.”

“Shall I remind you of that in a few years?”

“I wish I could make it up to her. You know this isn’t how I wanted things to happen.”

Tim leaned against the counter. “Quit feeling guilty, Matthias. This wasn’t your fault.” He softened his voice. “You haven’t even had time to grieve for Rafe properly. You need that as much as she does, you know.”

Matthias suddenly lost his appetite. “I don’t want to deal with that right now. I need to help her through this.”

“She’s strong, Matthias. Stronger than you think. The worst is behind her, and we all need to heal and move forward. You cannot deny yourself this.”

“What can I do for her, Tim? How do I make this up to her?”

“Simply show her you love her.”

Taz needed to snack. She walked downstairs and stopped outside the kitchen door when she heard Matthias and her dad talking. She knew it was wrong, but she eavesdropped anyway.

“Tell me how to do that, Tim,” Matthias said. “Tell me how to show her I love her. I thought we’d have years to get to know each other, and now I feel like I’m flying blind.”

Anger and admiration tangled inside her for control. He was pumping her dad for information. That was both sweet and…

Lazy.

“Matthias, she is a very complicated woman in some ways, very simple in others. She wants honesty and straightforwardness in her life. The two of you have many shared interests, you’re well aware of that. I think the best thing is for you to open up and talk with her.”

“She doesn’t seem to want to talk to me.”

Taz flushed with embarrassment. He was right, she hadn’t been very talkative in some ways, but dammit, he hadn’t asked, either.

She burst through the door, startling both men, an unexpected wave of anger taking her over. “You can’t do that, Matthias.”

“Do what?”

“You have to get to know me. You do. You are not allowed to call him up and ask, ‘What does Taz like about this or that?’”

“Why not?”

“That’s cheating!”

Matthias looked at her, certain he’d either misheard her or lost his mind. “What?”

“It’s cheating. You cannot ask him about me. You need to do the work, buster. You need to put in the time, get to know me. If I have to find out about you, you’re not allowed to cheat and just ask him what’s right or wrong.”

Tim was staying out of this. Matthias looked to him for help, and he shrugged, holding up his hands in surrender. “You’re on your own, sorry.”

Matthias looked at Taz. “What is going on?”

“I’m sick of you knowing everything about me and I know practically nothing about you!”

“Then ask me, ask Albert! I’ve already told you, my mind is open to you—”

“No!” The force of her objection startled him. “This isn’t a pick an entree from column A and a side dish from column B menu. I want to get to know each other like normal people.” She knew she wasn’t making much sense, even to herself, but something inside her chafed at the thought of them talking about her behind her back.

Christ, please don’t let this be another episode.

Matthias smirked. “Taz, if you haven’t noticed, we are anything but normal.”

“I know. That’s the point! I want some stupid thing, one goddamn thing, just one, in my life, to be N-O-R-M-A-L. Is that too much to friggin’ ask?”

He stared at her, stunned into silence.

She continued, her wrath mostly abated.

“Matthias, I want to get to know you. I fell in love with you, yes, but we haven’t even had a first date. We haven’t been to the movies. We haven’t danced. I haven’t cooked dinner for you.”

“Wouldn’t let her do that, mate,” Tim said.

She glared at him. “You stay out of this, Dad.”

“Taz, darling, you are a superb lawyer and a talented woman, but you are a danger to yourself and others in the kitchen.”

She jabbed a finger at him. “Nobody asked you.”

“I know. I felt it my duty to warn him as an officer of the court.”

Matthias bit his lip to keep from smiling. It was funnier than hell, yet he knew if he laughed, she would most likely castrate him, and he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of her wrath.

Any worse than he already was.

“Matthias, I have never had anything even remotely normal in my life. You said you’d give me anything I wanted. I want normal. I want to date.”

He took her hands, gently squeezed and kissed them. “You tell me where you want to go, and I’ll—”

“No!” she screamed, back in full bitch mode. She threw her hands in the air and turned from him. “That’s the whole point. You need to do it. You ask me on a date. You make the plans.”

Matthias looked at Tim, who shrugged again. Matthias carefully weighed his words. “Taz, you’re my fiancée. We sleep in the same bed every night. I’m not sure exactly—”

She wheeled on him. “Then you damn well better figure it out, and fast!” She stormed upstairs to their bedroom, slamming the door hard enough to rattle pictures on the wall downstairs, and they heard the lock snap.

Matthias looked at Tim, who held his hands up.

“If you think I’m helping you, you’re off your nut. She’s mad at you, and I don’t want her mad at me, too. One of us needs to remain on her good side to talk her off the ledge.”

Matthias shook his head. “What did I do wrong? What does she want from me? Doesn’t she understand how much I love her?”

“She does, but she’s scared. She wants you to work for it. Part of her fear is she’s scared because your relationship came too easily. Remember, Eric Proctor wasn’t exactly a stellar role model of a husband and father for her. She’s still learning to trust you.” He pointed at Matthias. “If you tell her I said that, I’ll deny it.”

“She wants me to date her?”

“Well, you always said that’s what you wanted. I think she feels cheated out of that.”

“Is she always like this?”

Tim glanced at the kitchen door, then whispered, “No. She’s not. This is totally unlike her. That’s why I’m so concerned. I know it’s partly because of all that’s happened the past few weeks, and her powers awakening, but there’s something else I can’t put my finger on. I noticed it out in Yellowstone the morning of the day she was shot. And if you tell her I said that, I’ll kill you myself, you bloody idiot.”

He walked away, leaving Matthias to ponder that.

When Matthias went upstairs around nine that evening, Taz had unlocked their bedroom door. He found her on her side, asleep, turned away from him. He debated waking her and decided against it. Instead, he tried to reach out to her with his mind and bumped against a barrier.

He knew she was grieving, trying to make sense of her new life. Any other woman would be doped up with tranquilizers by this point, but somehow, in her own way, she was dealing. All he could do was stand by and be there for her, do the best he could to help her through it as much as she’d let him.

And if she wanted to date, that’s exactly what they’d do.

After tossing and turning in bed for nearly an hour, he went downstairs to his study to work. Around midnight he returned to the kitchen for a glass of water, then heard a noise.

Matthias paused at the kitchen door. In the library, someone played the piano. Chopin, he thought, one of the nocturnes.

His heart froze. Rafael.

Rafe didn’t have room in his condo for the grand piano, and when he visited, he spent at least an hour at it every day, if his schedule allowed.

With his heart in his throat, Matthias slowly forced his feet toward the library. The door wasn’t closed all the way. Taz was seated at the piano, her eyes closed, the look on her face…

Her style was exactly Rafael’s. Matthias didn’t know she played. To the best of his knowledge, she’d never sat at the piano.

He watched her for several long minutes. When she finished Chopin she moved into Beethoven, the Moonlight Sonata. Hauntingly, achingly beautiful, her hands floated over the keys with assured confidence.

Yet another of Rafe’s favorites.

Mozart’s Rondo alla Turca, if he wasn’t mistaken, was next. He felt he shouldn’t interrupt her, that to do so would be a mistake for reasons he didn’t dare contemplate.

When she finished, she looked like she was in a trance. He quickly moved to the kitchen and watched as she slowly climbed the stairs to their bedroom. He followed her a moment later and found her sound asleep in their bed.

Sleep playing? There were crazier things. Rafael had played for years. It wasn’t unusual for him to pick up women at parties or bars by playing a bawdy ragtime number and making up his own hysterically funny lyrics to go with it.

But he was also a classical virtuoso in every sense of the word. It was one of the skills he mastered to keep his sanity after losing Cassandra.

How did Taz know Rafael’s favorite songs?

The next morning, Matthias let Taz sleep in. He paused by the library door, then found Tim in the kitchen. When sat down to eat breakfast, he finally asked.

“How long has Taz played the piano?”

Tim laughed. “What?”

“The piano. How long has she played?”

“She doesn’t. She’d be doing good to pound out Chopsticks. Why did you think she played?”

Matthias shook his head. “Never mind. I thought you’d told me she played.”

“No. She never showed an interest. I tried her with a few lessons and she didn’t want to. She loves listening to music, appreciates it, but has no interest in playing. Why?”

“I’m tired, and it doesn’t matter. Really.”

That night, Taz slept throughout the night even though Matthias awoke repeatedly, making sure she was in bed beside him, still wondering about not just her skills, but her choice in music.

There’d been no sheet music on the piano, all of it tucked in the bench. Rafael rarely used music when he played unless learning a new piece.

They spent the next day dodging each other. More accurately, Taz dodged Matthias. She needed to decompress and wait until she felt like she could talk to him without biting his handsome head off his shoulders.

She went to the office and tried to work, feeling unsettled and generally miserable. Upon her return home, she walked in from the garage and saw a box on the kitchen table. Addressed to her, from an automotive electronics company.

She set her laptop case and purse in a chair and opened the package. It was an XM radio with CD player, adapter plate for her 1965 Mustang, and a separate MP3 player adapter kit.

What the hell?

She looked at the invoice, and then noticed the comments section.

If you need help installing it, just ask. Love, Rafe.

She dropped the paper on the table. What the fuck?

A shiver ran through her. No one in the house would have ordered it without telling her. They certainly wouldn’t play a horrific practical joke like this. Not using Rafe’s name.

She looked at the order date and time—she would have been at the office.

Did she fugue again?

Holy crap.

Bathed in cold sweat, she took it upstairs and hid it in the closet. She didn’t want to deal with this right now. Couldn’t deal with it right now. It was too much.