Below is the first chapter of Nightshade & Rue, the urban fantasy novel I began for NaNoWrimo 2009 and hope to complete by the end of the year. This story is part of a larger world in which I typically write (one-offs are often posted on my blog), but it is being written as a standalone story as well.
Nightshade & Rue, Chapter One
Darwin Welles watched as England fell away below the wing of the aeroplane. The concrete and runway stripes of Heathrow, the verdant countryside, the morning grey of the Atlantic. Green dots marked the remaining islands of the United Kingdom, and once those were lost to his sight, he blew out a breath of relief. The melancholy he could examine and deal with later.
“Where are we going?”
“Virginia.”
“I know that, Darwin. Could you be a bit more precise?”
Turning from the window, he tried to smile at Delia if only for the boy’s sake. “Richmond. There are some areas on the outskirts of the city where we can live without people looking too closely at us, and I can almost certainly find work without much difficulty.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re almost sixty-one years old. No one will hire you. Why didn’t you retire from the policy centre before we left? You could have used your pension.”
“I didn’t have enough time.”
“So do it now. I’m sure that little solicitor in Brixham can handle the matter with discretion.”
Darwin considered her suggestion. He’d never spent an idle day in his life, wasn’t certain he knew how. Being able to keep an eye on her, however, had its appeal as well.
“I wouldn’t want Ambrus to be able to trace us to America.”
“Don’t solicitors work confidentially?”
He flicked a glance at the boy, who stared holes into his forehead. Darwin understood. He wouldn’t trust himself were the roles reversed either. “Supposed to, but you know how people are.”
“Is that a remark about my own trustworthiness, for it is, I may have to turn the plane around.”
The trouble was that she could.
“Of course not. Don’t be so sensitive.”
An air hostess paused by their seats, silicone enhanced smile fixed in place. “May I bring you anything? We’ve tea, coffee, milk for the lad if he likes.”
“Tea please,” Delia said before touching the boy’s knee. “Hadrian, would you like something?”
“Is there hot cocoa?”
“Why, sure!” The air hostess made a note on her tally sheet and glanced at Darwin. “Anything for you, sir?”
“A bloody mary if it isn’t too much bother.”
“Not at all.”
When she’d moved on, Delia tsked at him. “What?” he asked. “It’s gone ten o’clock, and I am in the midst of some crisis.”
“Think of the example you’re setting.” Her words came out in a hiss, causing Darwin to laugh.
“Hello, pot, he said, extending his hand. “Allow me to introduce myself. My friends call me kettle.”
“Oh, you!”
Her cheeks went pink with irritation, and he thought it as good a time as any to get a handful of conversational items out of the way before their drinks arrived. The boy, occupied with a book of puzzles, wouldn’t miss them, and really, what else was there to do? Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he whispered into the palm of his hand.
“Populi audit nihil.”
“Darwin, what are you doing casting in the middle of a jet full of passengers? Have you no sense of decorum at all?”
“I cast, darling, specifically because we are in an aeroplane full of passengers.”
“What you have to say requires such a degree of privacy you felt the need to conjure an audial bubble round us?”
“Yes.”
“Say it then. You’re dragging me and my son from the only home we’ve ever known clear across the Atlantic to the wilds of America. We’re exiled from our people and our land all to satisfy your sense of honour, and if that isn’t the biggest farce I’ve ever encountered -”
“He’s my son, too, a fact you conveniently forgot to mention to me for the past ten years, although I see you most everyday. A fact you forgot to mention for ten years, Delia, although you’ve seen fit to continue to share my bed. And there are no ‘wilds of America’ any longer. It’s almost the twenty-first century, or have you forgotten that, too?”
“Pah!”
“Pah all you like, but there are things to say between us, and you know it.”
“Say them then, and be done with it.”
“You are my wife now, and you will live according to the agreement we made two weeks ago if it kills us both.”
“It might.”
“So be it.”
“I’m not your legal wife.”
“We were wed by a priestess of our order, and we both signed an oath in blood. I do not have to tell you what the implications of violating that oath are. It’s easy enough to wrangle out of a legal marriage. No, you and I are stuck with one another whether we like it or not.”
“I don’t.”
“Nor do I much, but again, so be it.”
“I really do hate you.”
“What you hate is that Ambrus Peyton wouldn’t sleep with you twenty-five years ago. You hate that you couldn’t corrupt him.” Darwin reached over and squeezed her hand. “You’re beautiful, Delia, but that wasn’t enough for Ambrus.”
“It was for you.”
“Enough to lose my pants over, I’ll grant you that. Not enough to lose my soul over.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“I suspect we will.”
Delia pouted. “What I don’t understand is why you insist on taking me away now. The baby has been born. The idiot prophecy is fulfilled. I can’t do them any harm now, Darwin. All of the world’s magic community will be flocking to Devon, and you’re taking me away.”
“I am.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t trust you, and now that you have him,” he nodded at the boy, “you have a powerful weapon in your arsenal. All you’ve ever wanted is power. He’ll bring it to you if I let him.”
“But -”
“The air hostess is coming with our drinks.” He shifted in his seat and nodded at the boy who had looked up from his puzzle. “Populi audiunt,” he whispered, and the bubble popped.