Chapter 10

"Can I get you something to drink?" she asked awkwardly as she tied the belt of her robe a little more securely.

He sat down on her sofa, without looking at her again, and nodded. "Yes, a coffee would be nice, thank you."

James used the time that she took to make the drink, to regain his composure, after seeing her 'dressed' like that.

What had she been thinking? Greeting him in that tiny, sheer robe which just managed to accentuate her glorious figure, rather than conceal anything!

He was sure that she would use the excuse of making a drink, to go and change, but when she walked in with two steaming mugs, and still wearing that robe, he could not help but feel pleased.

It told him that she felt comfortable around him, enough for her to be so casually 'dressed' ... so temptingly 'dressed'.

"Thank you," he murmured huskily as she placed the mug in front of him on the table, and then retreated to the far side of the room, to curl up into the comfortable looking armchair.

"This is a nice place, that you've got," James said as he looked around the bright and airy room, with its pale lilac walls – painted with simple glossy type paint, by the looks of them.

The carpet was a thick woollen affair, a deep maroon in colour, which matched the curtains almost perfectly, and the cream coloured sofa and chairs kept the room light and airy.

"Thank you ... my aunt is the owner; she gives me good rates, and likes to take care of me."

He could hear the fond smile in her voice, as her tone warmed, and the stiffness left, and he smiled in return.

"You are all close, your family?" he asked almost wistfully, and Iris blinked in surprise.

"Yes ... after mum died ... well dad fell to pieces for a little while, and Aunt Trudy stepped in to take care of us for a bit ... she helped dad to get back on his feet, and made sure that Laurie and I were okay whilst he couldn't."

Her voice had thickened with tears, and she put a hand to her cheek quickly as though to brush them away.

"How old were you; when your mum died?" he tried to keep his tone casually interested, tried not to let too much sympathy shade his voice, because he suddenly had a feeling that if he was too sympathetic, then she might just fall to pieces on him.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I was eight and Laurie was five, I think."

"I was thirteen, when my mother died, and like your father, my father seemed to just give up on everything else."

She looked across at him in surprise, and their eyes locked.

"What happened?" she whispered.

It was his turn to shrug. "It was a hit and run, oh they caught the guy eventually, but not for five years, and for that time, it seemed to just eat my dad up, he could not get past the idea that somewhere out there, was his wife's killer."

"What happened to you while your dad was so ... indisposed?"

He smiled bitterly. "Oh I was pretty much left to my own devices. We did not have any other family ... no kind aunt to step in and take over," he shot her a pleading look, which told her not to take his mockery to heart, and she smiled in reassurance.

"However bad it seems ... someone else always has it worse, I guess," she said a little ruefully.

"It was not so very bad. I was pretty much my own man, free to do as I pleased; I could and did run wild for a few years."

"What happened, to change that?" Iris asked curiously.

He smiled again. "My father met someone, a woman, good and kind, and understanding over his feelings, because she had lost her husband to a drunk driver, and had been left to raise her young daughter on her own."

"Were they human?" she did not know why, but Iris suddenly felt sure that his stepmother was not one of their kind. "The mother and daughter were they human or of our race ... so what happened between them?" Iris asked as she pictured this tragic little family of lost souls.

She could see them clearly in her mind's eye; the angry young man, and the emotionally dead father, the sad woman and confused little girl.

"Oh they were human, through and through, but my father still married my stepmother." His eyes softened with affection, and love for this unknown woman. "But because her daughter was so very young – only eleven at the time, they decided not to put Claire – my stepmother, through the ritual of change."

"Really? That must have made things very ... interesting when the full moons came around?"

He laughed. "It did not take us long to realise, that the best thing for all concerned was for dad and me to take a little... 'road trip', at these times. We would go to a nicely secluded cabin, that dad happened to own."