A Snippet of a New Novel
I decided to post an excerpt from a new novel that I’m working on. Hope you enjoy. 
She watched from a distant vantage point as he approached one of the stone benches in the park. He sat there waiting and it chilled her. She must have contemplated approaching him for five minutes at least, five long daunting minutes. She wasn’t at all sure if she wanted to open this particular door again. It had been some time since they’d last met ? ten years perhaps, perhaps longer. She’d changed in immeasurable ways, and assumed he had as well. And it was indeed a door that had been closed, albeit not so firmly as she’d liked. But circumstances as they were, well suffice to say necessity overrode inconvenience.
Slowly she stepped from behind the pavilion and made her way to the stone bench. She felt sure that he knew she was approaching but didn’t turn round to acknowledge her. He simply sat there quietly, waiting. She stopped at the side of the bench, silently determined that he would speak first. He rose to his feet, a foot or so taller than she. He was dressed nicely, casually in a brownish sports coat with a light colored shirt and, dark pants. But when she looked into his eyes she flinched for a moment, feeling the jolt of an old connection but mentally blocking herself from it. He wouldn’t get the better of her. She eyed him deliberately with no flicker of emotion. It was best to establish a distance right at the start. He sported a short clipped beard sprinkled with grey, and his dark hair now graying at the sides, the signs of age.And she wondered distractedly how much age showed in her face now. ”Corey,” he murmured, the same low, graveled voice.
She responded with a cool deliberateness. “Iaian, I’m glad you could meet me.”
And then there was something in the dark eyes that rose to the surface, sparkle, challenge, something indefinable, “How could I refuse?”
She nodded, again trying to appear detached but feeling acutely as if she were a fifteen year old girl again, rather than the thirty-eight year-old woman that she’d become. There were benefits of age, benefits she’d become accustomed to? a respect, an ease of being unconcerned with things that plagued her in her youth, a knowledge that she was past particular aspects of life. All of these shields of age felt suddenly stripped away from her in the deep gleam of his Baltic, amber-colored eyes. She’d forgotten and hated how truly ill at ease this man had always made her. She crossed her arms in front of her walking a few paces and then turning to address him directly. She felt calmer, more secure from this vantage point. “How long have you been in the country?”
There was a slight smile that flickered across his face as though she amused him, and that rankled her greatly. She had accomplished much in her lifetime already, well-respected in her chosen profession. What she didn’t need was condescension from this man. “Actually only a few months, I’ve been keeping a low profile.”
She nodded, again her heart feeling uncomfortable in her chest. “Yes, well you were difficult to track down.”
“But you managed to do it.” His words came fast upon her own. And then his eyes passed over again with that slight look of amusement that incensed her. “Would you like to sit? Or are you more comfortable glowering at me from afar.”
She dropped her arms from their protective stance, suddenly feeling very foolish. “I’m not glowering. It’s just that this is a little awkward for me. Surely you can understand this.”
He shrugged, “Well let’s endeavor to get the awkwardness out of the way. Are you still with that ignorant, low-life Morris?”
She felt as though the air had literally been ripped out of her lungs. How dare he, how dare he drag their ugly past into this bright, clean present when she had worked so hard to eradicate it from her life. She glanced away; there were children in the distance playing on a swing set. And for a moment she wondered how it would be to start over, to start everything over. “Why would you ask such a thing?” she murmured.
“Curiosity. Don’t worry I’ve ceased to care about any of that a long time ago.”
“Then why bring it up?” She eyed him directly, but he met her gaze unflinchingly, calmly. And that had always been his way to never avoid any confrontation.
“I wanted to see if you still care.”
“I haven’t seen him for over five years.”
“Well my congratulations, at least you’ve begun to develop some sense.”
And then something inside her hardened at his insult, a coldness enabled her to close off those places he could still reach. “Iain my time is valuable and I do not desire to waste it on things that don’t matter. I have something serious to discuss with you or I wouldn’t have expended the time and energy to find you.”
He frowned a bit, “Yes Corey always business with you. Well it’s a lovely October day. So why don’t we take a walk and you can tell me all about it.”
Her fingers seemed to tremble as she attempted to bend the soft metal into place. It was so delicate that the gloves she wore felt cumbersome. This piece was too fine to manipulate from behind a shield. It was reckless but she removed them, then shaping the metal of the necklace with her own fingertips. It was a malleable piece, a rare silver alloy, yet oddly resistant to her will. It required her to use all the strength she had in her slim fingertips to force the issue, and then she dropped the whole ornament onto the softly padded surface of her work table. Her index finger began to ooze dark red. She’d been punctured by a sharp edge ? so much for the rewards of trying to force things.
She leaned back in the leather, swivel chair with a deep sigh. Corey had thought working on some of her jewelry would relax her this evening or rather distract her. But thus far it had only succeeded in feeding her frustration. She’d been a fool to think that Iaian would be of any help to her. She knew and so did he there was entirely too much history there.
Some things, her father had always told her, were simply not worth salvaging, and some things were simply dangerous to attempt to salvage. She reached across her work table to its edge to retrieve a glass of brandy she’d poured earlier. It burned her throat as she sipped it, but it comforted.
Jewelry-making was a skill that her father, Clayton Knight, had taught her. And in lean years it had served as a source of income to Corey. But it had been some time since she’d needed it for that purpose. It served as a hobby now and a comfort, although there were times when she did accept commissions from selective clients who needed a piece for a special purpose. For the jewelry she constructed was not merely ornamental. That too was skill her father had passed on to her.
“I’m curious, why approach me with this Corey after all this time. Surely you have enough friends or just contacts that could help you.”
“I’m not sure any of them could be trusted with this.”
“What makes you at all sure that I could be?”
She grimaced as she squeezed the still bleeding fingertip. It should be attended to but she didn’t feel at all like dealing with it. The house felt peculiarly empty tonight, although she didn’t mind living alone. After several years of a difficult marriage to Sebastian Morris living alone had been quite soothing. But tonight, rambling around the old family house was oppressive. But then he’d done this to her, disrupted everything.
She sipped her brandy, and allowed her mind to return to earlier in the day. She’d been foolish to think that perhaps time had softened his sharp edges, but now it was clear that they remained as razored as the metal that had cut her skin.
They had walked largely in silence through Audubon Park, a time which only served to feed her uneasiness. She wanted to get down to business, to separate themselves from the turmoil of the past. “So,” he began. “You have captured my attention. I’m wondering exactly what could have driven you to contact me. I’m more than sure I wasn’t you’re first choice. What about the others?”
Her throat seemed to tighten at his inquiry, although it was one that she more than expected. “Everyone has drifted apart. I’m sure you must be . . .”
“Aware? No dearest, as it is I’ve been quite detached from your little group for some time. Or does your memory fail you?”
It jolted her how vitriolic he sounded. Of course she’d only hoped that time might have softened this. But clearly all the old wounds had only festered. She swallowed trying to desperately to carefully frame her questions. “After you left Iain, things were not the same. Slowly, I don’t know it took around a year, maybe less it all began to break down. Brae left for England, Quinn went up North to take over his family’s business, and Sebastian.”
His eyes never met hers; he simply continued to stare forward as their pace came to a standstill. “Sebastian?” It was a question although his tone was nearly devoid of emotion.
“Well, let’s just say he’s kept his distance after the divorce.”
He turned away from her staring off in the distance at the cathedral directly across the street from them. “Did I ever tell you I seriously considered becoming a priest as a young man?”
It was an odd disclosure for him to make at the moment, considering the complete estrangement of their relationship. But it did summon the quick image of Iaian Tiernan as a young man, a seventeen year old boy; tall, thin with flashing eyes and that longish dark, brown hair. It made her smile, the idea of him as a priest seemed as ridiculous as she being a homemaker. “No,” she simply stated.
He glanced over at her for the first time in many moments with a bit of a quick smile, “Yes, I suppose it was preposterous. But I was determined to dedicate myself to something.” She glanced away from the intensity of his gaze. “So the old group drifted apart. Doesn’t seem all that tragic Corey, I suppose we all grow up at some point.”
“Yes, but as you know our group went much deeper than ordinary friendships.”
She looked back into his face which had hardened a bit with the light of understanding. “What are you saying?”
Then softly she explained, “It’s been breached.”
His eyes widened, then the expected question, “All of them?”
She shook her head, “No, not all Iaian. But the Triqueta is gone.”
He stared at her blankly for a moment but then his jaw hardened. “My car isn’t far from here. Let’s go sit down and you can tell me everything.” He started walking quickly and deliberately as she struggled to keep pace. There was a familiar determination in his stride, one that simultaneously cheered and disturbed her.
It was more disquieting than she’d expected being this close to him again. “We could go to a coffee shop or a restaurant.” She stammered a bit, hating the uncertainty she heard in her own voice.
His face was set stonily, best poker face among all of us Brae had always said. But that was back when he and Brae had been lovers, and she was enamored of everything he did. “Then we could be heard. That wouldn’t do.”
She glanced outside the car. They were parked in his tan SUV along a small residential side street near the park. It wasn’t particularly well-trafficked and it did occur to her that she felt quite vulnerable here with Iain. There was a time, a brief time when she felt he had the capacity for great violence. And the truth was that she scarcely knew him anymore, there had been so many years. Her impetuousness in contacting him very well could have been reckless.
She glanced back to him. He was watching her quietly with an unreadable expression. Her eyes widened as another unwelcome thought intruded. He’d shown signs of it when he was young. It occurred to her now that he might have further developed the skill while he was abroad. He might be canvassing her thoughts at this very moment. Corey deliberately went inward erecting ancient barriers that she’d found unnecessary to use for many years. This was another disturbing thought, the possibility that she’d become quite soft.
Iain looked away from her outside the front window, “I thought they were placed in a safe haven.”
She blinked, taking a moment to reconnect with what he’d said. “Yes, they were. That was the agreement. They were to. . .”
He nodded, “Too powerful to be in anyone’s control.”
“Yes.” She agreed. This was perhaps the one area in which they could be in complete accord.
“Did you check on them Corey?”
She shook her head feeling a chill travel down her spine. “No, I didn’t. I mean I haven’t used those abilities for some time.” She hated admitting that to him. It felt in a way it was like giving the enemy your battle plans.
He looked surprised, “Really? Not at all. “
She shrugged, staring forward, feeling quite uncomfortable in engaging his glaze directly. “In small ways, but I have not traveled to that place for some time.”
His hand brushed her arm, and it caused a further chill to steal through her flesh. “Then how can you be sure?”
She sighed, ceasing to debate how much to tell him. If she were to secure his assistance she must be candid. “I had a visitor, late one night. About a month ago.”
“Who was it?”
She swallowed, her throat quite dry now. To most what she was to say would seem quite nonsensical, quite deluded, but then again given all they had experienced together. . . “It was my father.”
She heard him emit a sound, somewhere between a sigh and a breath. She knew what he was thinking, even without having his talent. After all her father had been dead for ten years, ten long quiet years.
She expected some sort of response, perhaps in some odd way she expected some compassion. But in retrospect, given what had occurred, his reaction should have been entirely predictable. “A month? Are you telling me you waited a month to act on this?”
It felt like a bit like a punch. Telling him about her father had opened herself to him, her feelings. And given him his opportunity. “No,” her voice sounded like ice in her own ears. “I didn’t wait.”
“Ah, so whose help did you seek first? I’m assuming you didn’t travel outside of the original group.”
“No, that would have been unwarranted.”
He smiled, but it was an ugly smile, a cutting one. “Yes, who?”
His tone shook her. It almost felt like a command. “Brae, I spoke to Brae.”
He nodded, “Yes dear Brae, how is she?”
She wrapped her hands around her arms. Moments ago the car had felt stuffy, but not now, now it was so cold. “She’s made a new life for herself. She’s afraid to get involved again.”
“Yes, yes she was always the brave one wasn’t she?”
“That’s not fair.”
“And you, you would defend her to me. Who else Corey, Quinn?”
Her breath felt sharp in her chest. It was like an inquisition, and briefly a memory of a long dark room flashed across her mind. “Quinn, he’s been ill. He couldn’t help.” She managed to get out.
“What’s wrong with him?” Amazingly, there was compassion in his voice. But then he’d always had a soft spot where Quinn was concerned.
“A resurgence of the leukemia, I couldn’t ask him to expend his energy on this.”
“Of course not, I remember the last time.” His voice had softened ever so perceptively reminding her of the man he used to be. And just as quickly that slight humanity was gone. “So who does that leave? Yes, of course our friend Sebastian. I’m quite sure he would have been happy to help.”
That cold feeling crept around her heart again. “No, I didn’t ask him.”
“Why? He would be the obvious choice.”
Her voice was quiet, “Because I don’t trust him.”
He leaned back against the headrest on the top of his seat. And soft laughter came from him, “Well I find that funny. You don’t trust him. That’s too bad Corey, because hell will have to freeze over before I lift a finger to help you.” And she knew in that moment that he’d spent the last half an hour with her just so that he could refuse her.
Copyright © 2009 by Evelyn Klebert. All rights reserved.
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