The First Musical: Chapter Three: Gisele, Part 3

“Where have you been?” Carmen asked the moment I stepped through the door. She had sprawled out on her bed, reading the text for her discussion class. The rest of her textbooks and school things were scattered across the floor in a haphazard mess.

“Nowhere.” I didn’t want to talk with her about it. She still wanted that lead, and I would be perfectly happy giving it to her if I could. It wasn’t my choice, though; it was his and I wished it wasn’t.

“What’s wrong, Gisele?” she asked, sitting up on her bed. “You can talk to me, you know.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I murmured, trying to focus on my math homework for the next day.

“Something’s wrong; I can tell.”

I slipped into the sweater on the back of my chair, pulling it tight around me. Cold still seemed to wrap me in a death grip; I just couldn’t seem to warm up. “It’s nothing.”

“Don’t tell me that, Gisele.”

“I’m trying to concentrate,” I snapped. She wouldn’t understand. She’d blame me and any number of things. Between Johnathan, his musical, and having auditioned against my wishes, I couldn’t handle whatever she thought she could do to help. She’d probably do more to worsen things.

After a while I gave up on hoping calculus would make sense and started to regret snapping at Carmen. But she hadn’t bothered me since, so it wasn’t so bad? It just wasn’t me. I couldn’t remember snapping at anyone in the past several years. I felt ambivalent about it. Like Johnathan and everything was changing me into some unrecognizable.

Climbing into bed for the night, my back to Carmen and her unusual silence, I struggled to find sleep. Between singing that song—to Johnathan of all people—and everything else the day had revealed, my mind was too preoccupied to stop thinking.

Even though I’m certain I did eventually fall asleep, I couldn’t be sure. It felt like I opened my eyes every ten minutes to escape the images of Johnathan running through my mind. I couldn’t make heads or tails of him, but I would be happy if I never saw again.

But my nightmares were closer to reality.

The First Musical: Chapter Three: Gisele, Part 2

Outside the dorm it seemed colder than usual and the typical glances seemed to sear into my skin. Everyone was someone who wanted me to audition, to give into Johnathan. None of them could be trusted.

Somehow, I found myself outside the door of an empty practice room. They wouldn’t think to look for me there. What use would I have to be in a practice room?

Locking the door behind me, I sat my bag on top of the piano and sat down, running my fingers over the cool keys. I had never really learned to play piano; I had learned cello formally, and played at learning piano, guitar, and violin at various times. Mostly I liked to play different chords to emphasize the emotions storming inside me and laying a foundation for vocals.

“Under your wings,” I began singing softly, the notes harsh in my throat. Clearing my throat, I was grateful to be without an audience in the dark room. “I find the shelter I’ve been looking for.” A noise came from outside the room and I stopped, half expecting the door handle to rattle or someone to knock. When it faded away down the stairs opposite the practice room, I turned back to the piano, my fingers finding a new minor chord. “Stand next to me. Don’t make me think I’m needing you more—”

There was another sound, this one on the far side of the room. “Who’s there?” I asked, not yet moving from the piano. I couldn’t help but think locking the door and keeping the lights off had been a huge mistake.

“Sing more,” Johnathan’s voice said from the shadowy corner. “It’s beautiful.”

Grabbing my bag, I made to leave, only to find him blocking the door.

“Don’t go.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” I asked, my voice cracking a little. I hated that he frightened me, that I didn’t know why he was doing this to me instead of someone who wanted the attention.

“This is your audition. I’ll be where you can’t see me if you prefer, and we can leave the lights off. All you need to do is sing.”

“That’s very accommodating on your part,” I said, consciously trying to force bitterness and anger into my voice. “I do remember, however, telling you I wouldn’t audition.”

“You’ve already started, though. I insist you finish.”

I inhaled shakily. My bag was heavy enough I might be able to strike him in the head and escape, but it wasn’t guaranteed he’d be out of my way enough for me to make it through the door. It also didn’t stop him from appearing in random places around campus and recruiting my friends to assist in fulfilling his agenda.

“If I finish this audition, you have to promise to leave me alone,” I said.

He shook his head; “I can’t promise that.”

“Why not?” I asked, not voice pitching from the frustration.

“I already told you,” he said plainly. I could feel his blue-green eyes searching my face. “You’re my lead.”

“Why me? I don’t even perform anymore.”

“Anymore. Why is that?”

“None of your business.”

“Until you accept that you’re my lead, I can’t tell you why it has to be you.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” I whined, my free hand gripping the top of my head.

“It will,” he said. “Now please finish the audition.”

My bag fell to my feet. “You won’t let me leave until then?”

“No.”

I walked back to the piano and sat down, defeated.

“Where do you want me?” he asked, standing on the far side of the baby grand, hands buried in his pockets.

Sighing and running a hand through my chocolate tresses, I stared at him. There was a relief in being able to have some control over him, but not much. “Stay there.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable—”

“So long as you’re in this room, I’m more comfortable being able to see you,” I said a little more tartly than intended.

“Very well.”

I stared at the keys, not sure where to start, or what to sing. So I returned to what I had been singing. “Under your wings, I find the shelter I’ve been looking for. Stand next to me; don’t make me think I’m needing you more than I do. Because I don’t need you. Keep close to me, so my skin absorbs its warmth from you. Hold me tight, don’t let me go or else I’ll see it’s true. I don’t need you.” My eyes darted up to his, and I hoped he’d say I could go, but all he did was bow his head toward the piano, his eyes closed as he waited.

“So long as I think I need you, you can be cruel and kind and dominate my world. Don’t let me see the truth; that I’m just a fool and, when you’re done, you’ll hurl me aside. Because that’s what you do. You take everything for you. And we both know it’s wrong,”

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I finished. I regretted singing that song; I hadn’t thought about it since I’d written it more than two years ago. “I’m done,” I muttered, grabbing my bag from the floor and leaving him behind.

I hated him for trapping. I focused on that one thing because if I didn’t, I’d realize the only reason it had happened was because of me. Because I had ended up there and I had started to sing thinking no one was listening.

The First Musical: Chapter Three: Gisele, Part 1

Our study circle that night was in Baron’s room at Carmen’s insistence. It didn’t bother me as he had a single anyway, but it was weird being in the middle of a wing of boys. Despite trying to ignore this fact, I found it distracting—especially when his friends would peek in as if they wanted to ask something before seeing us and disappearing again.

“So I ran into Johnathan today,” Carmen said. “He’s convinced you should audition.”

This again? I sighed and let it go. If I didn’t indulge her, she might stop talking about it.

“I decided I would audition, too,” Baron said softly. My head whipped around to stare at him. This was Baron. Baron attended Carmen’s performances and whatever else she wanted to attend, but he never had an interest in partaking himself. It was what made him safe. We could be supportive together but I’d never feel pressured into trying because he wouldn’t either.

His green eyes locked on mine. “I was talking with Johnathan and he said I’d be a pretty good singer. That, and there isn’t much dancing unless you get a lead,” he said, shrugging and diverting his eyes back to his textbook.

“That’s great!” Carmen squealed excitedly, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. “I can’t believe he was able to talk you into it. I’ve been trying for years!”

“I know.”

As they exchanged their excitement and surprise, I packed my things into my bag. I couldn’t stay here. I knew what was happening. Johnathan was trying to corner me into auditioning for him. Why he was so adamant about this, I couldn’t begin to guess. But I wouldn’t audition. Nothing he did could make me. And if he thought getting my friends to audition would make me follow suit, he was sadly mistaken.

“Where are you going?” Carmen asked, pulling away from Baron.

“I don’t know,” I replied, swinging my bag onto my shoulder and leaving. An urgency swelled inside me to escape, as though they were as dangerous as Johnathan.

“Gisele,” Baron called after me, but I waved him off. I could not deal with this. I wouldn’t perform; no one could make me perform.

Eternal: Chapter Three, Part 6

“All enter,” the voice called into the hallway. Drei, who had held me tightly and kissed my forehead when I’d exited the room, now walked to stand on the other side of Mitchell again as we filed into the room to hear Tudor deliver the verdict.

“Abriel Jones, it has been unanimously decided your alternative suggestion will be…” He carefully regarded the paper in his hands for an extended pause. I knew all of them were watching me—Valetta, Mitchell and Drei confusedly, the Council unfeelingly—waiting read a response on my face. “…accepted.”

I gasped, shocked, relieved and excited. It had worked. This was a good omen, I hoped. If not, at least I spent my luck on someone important.

“Under one condition,” he continued, sucking away my joy. “It has been voted that you will only be given two years, with a possible extension of three months upon request and with reasonable explanation. Until then, all penalties and charges are suspended.”

“Thank you,” I said, my mind racing to figure out what kind of timeline I would need if I only had two years for sure. I was grateful still, but this meant we needed to hit the ground running; there was no room for delays or mistakes.

“Adjourned,” the presiding vampire announced. “You shall all be returned to wheresoever you desire.”

With that, we were escorted from the room and back through the mansion to the car. None of the Council had moved and I wondered if they ever did. It was a strange thought, but I was hungry, exhausted, and emotionally spent; additionally, I had to figure out how to make—what the Council would consider to be—significant progress in two years. Mentally entertaining the thought of those eight never leaving that room was the only thing keeping me sane, and sanity was a good thing at this point. With two years, every moment counted. At the end of those two years, I probably wouldn’t qualify for ingénue status given my bargaining.

I leaned against Drei on the car ride home and he stroked my hair. It was comforting, the temporary relief and happiness falling away from all of them combined with his loving touch.

“Can you roll your window down?” I asked sleepily. I was starved, and any bit of fresh air helped. Drei and Valetta both obliged. As we drove through the city, the night life in full swing, it wasn’t long before I felt full, my contentedness adding to my exhaustion.

“You will explain this alternative option, yes?” Drei asked softly.

“Of course,” I replied, trying not to fall asleep on them just yet. “I have two years to make significant progress on my movement.”

Mitchell stared incredulously at me; Valetta gaped. Drei’s hand stopped running through my hair and I glanced up at him. I wished he hadn’t stopped.

“Two years for that?” Valetta asked.

“I had asked for three,” I said, speaking more to Drei than to the others. His eyes were unsure and unfocused. He was as worried as I was about how much the Council’s decision might change in two years if it didn’t happen. “But we can do it.”

“We shall stay to assist in any way possible,” Mitchell said.

“Thank you,” I responded, wishing I could sleep for now. I’d be able to think better with some rest.

“What do we do first?” Drei asked, squeezing my hand as though to reassure himself as the shock lessened.

“First we sleep,” I insisted, closing my eyes—I caught Drei’s thought about that being a first. Any more thinking and it felt like my brain would implode, but he could probably guess that much. “Then we start…and hope two years is enough.”

Eternal: Chapter Three, Part 5

“How are you handling your hunger?” the woman asked after a long, breaking the long pause.

Exhaustion weighed heavy on me and I wished we could skip to what I wanted to discuss. “I’m handling it well, though the lack of fresh air around here isn’t helping anything.”

“Elaborate.”

Speaking with my hands, I did my best to simplify what wasn’t so simple. “My element finds nutrients in energy—mostly sounds, people’s thoughts, emotions, so on—and my vampire is sated by those nutrients.”

“How, though?” the presiding vampire asked, sitting forward on his elbows.

Shrugging, I admitted, “It’s really complicated, and I only understand the basics of it aside from it works.”

“Interesting.” After a moment, he sat back again. “We cannot leave you in Mr. Valmoritim’s custody, as he has disregarded Council rulings and has proven himself a poor role model. Instead, we would like to place you in the temporary custody of Councilmember Emaline Walters until another vampire has been found to raise you,” he said in a way that made it clear he didn’t see my opinion of the option as mattering. It did; he just didn’t know it yet.

“May I offer another option?” I asked, holding his eyes steadily, despite my exhaustion.

Leaning forward, he amusedly inquired, “What would this other option be?”

“The way I understand things,” I said, “personal dealings with an elemental are against your rulings because it will interfere or alter our destinies. Am I correct in this understanding?”

“Yes,” he said slowly.

“So then, by that logic, if I’m still able to accomplish what I’m destined for, none of this should be a problem. Is this an accurate assumption?”

The seven vampires below him glanced up, intrigued and concerned. Whatever he said now would become law. “In a large part, yes.”

“Then I propose you suspend any rulings on these events for three years, allowing me to do what I’m supposed to do,” I said, looking at all eight of them in turn, ending with the presiding vampire. “If, at the end of that time, there has been significant advancement in the direction my movement is supposed to go in, all charges are dropped. If, however, I fail, or have been unable to make significant progress, then you can press any and all charges. How does that sound?”

He was pensive at first; he didn’t look at me, though several of the others did between watching him, trying to guess at his reaction. “We shall confer and when you return with the others, you shall hear our verdict.”

“Very well, then.” It was better than no.

Eternal: Chapter Three, Part 4

“Abriel Jones,” the voice summoned, yanking me from my plotting. I hadn’t realized Drei had exited.

Drei stood before me, a hand outstretched to help me stand. I took it without hesitation, allowing him to pull me into his arms for a brief moment. His touch was assuring, though pain and fear washed from him. I was used to feeling pain from him, but I couldn’t remember him this afraid. There had been times where he had felt fear, but not this strongly. It was unlike him. I squeezed his hand, realizing all I could do was hope this worked.

The room hadn’t changed, not that I had expected it to. But it almost felt like sunlight should be filtering in through the shuttered windows. I was greeted, however, by the same flickering lamp light and gloom.

“We shall be asking questions regarding your relationship with Miss Bevinston, Mr. Jameson, and Mr. Valmoritim,” the one woman—sitting to the right of Tudor—explained in a clipped voice. “When and how did you come to acquaint yourself with Mr. Valmoritim?”

“Drei? I’ve been acquainted with him for six years Valentine’s Day this year. He stopped two thugs from mugging and raping, and possibly murdering, me,” I replied, hoping I didn’t sound as defensive as I felt. If they wanted me to put him in the light of a villain, they weren’t going to succeed. Not even Valetta, or Drei himself, could make me see him that way.

“When did you become acquainted with Miss Bevinston and Mr. Jameson?” she asked, her fingers laced and resting before her on the table. She sounded impatient, which didn’t help me to remain calm. If I wasn’t careful, I could be as snippy as she seemed to be.

“At the elemental safe camp Drei led. That’s where he took me after I lost control at school. Both Valetta and Mitchell worked under him,” I elaborated, unsure how much or how little to say. “We’re friends.”

“When did you leave this camp?”

“Just over three years ago, February.”

“Did anyone accompany you?” she pressed, leaning forward slightly.

“Drei did. He left Valetta in charge of the camp,” I said, staring at her. My heart was racing because I didn’t want to lie, but the truth sounded so incriminating, especially considering how she asked each question.

“Was there anything Mr. Valmoritim did to seduce you, appear dishonorable, or the like?”

Shaking my head, I replied, “No. He set things up so I could work with Caroline and see how to run a revolution; he made sure I stayed healthy because I have problems with insomnia; he was even patient and encouraging when I was impatient and frustrated that I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing.”

“There is no need to be defensive, Miss Jones,” the presiding vampire interrupted, lightly tapping his fingernails on the desk before him. “You are not the one on trial.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop the rash reply begging to escape. I might not have been the one on trial, but I might as well have been.

“May I continue, sir?” the woman asked in her clipped, impatient way. When he nodded, she inquired, “From the previous interrogations, it has been understood that you and Mr. Valmoritim were separated for a time. How long were you separated and why?”

“Almost eight months.” I didn’t want to go into the why because it really was complicated. But I didn’t want to be rudely reminded to answer the question, either. I’d need them in a decent mood if my bargain was going to work and that, unfortunately, meant playing nice. “It was because he thought I was lying to him about my involvement with Caroline and her project. The situation might have been avoided if we had communicated with each other better,” I added. What happened wasn’t entirely his fault. A great deal of it was mine and Caroline’s, though hers was more indirect than anything else.

“What were the circumstances, as you understand them to be, surrounding your turning?”

“I was shot;” I shrugged. How much of an answer did she want? When she didn’t say anything, I added, “I was already dead. Or maybe I was still dying and just thought I was dead. Either way, I woke up and that’s when Drei told me what he had done.”

“What was his reason behind the act?” she asked, her eyes glinting as if this was the answer that would make the case against him.

“He loves me,” I replied softly, diverting my gaze downward—not from embarrassment or shame, but because it felt like I had betrayed him. The truth here wasn’t setting anyone free. It was condemning us all. “Because, he said, he couldn’t imagine living without me.”

“What are your personal feelings for Mr. Valmoritim?”

Catching her gaze, wanting to ensure she received my answer and wasn’t going to twist it to suit their cause, I responded, “I love him with all of my heart.” She opened her mouth as if to say that it wasn’t love but I interrupted her saying, “And it is not some effect of seduction, or attraction, or anything he’s done intentionally. It was my decision to love him long before I ever knew he loved me.” Tears pressed at my eyes. I doubted they were moved at all, but I couldn’t contain my feelings when I was starving or guilt-ridden, trying to be polite and hoping against odds they would take my suggestion.

“It is entirely possible you have imagined loving—”

“It isn’t,” I interrupted the presiding vampire. Not smart, I know. And not playing nice, either. But this was one thing I knew for sure, and they didn’t. Nothing they said could convince me I was wrong in this. “And I know because I spent a year trying to convince myself not to love him;” I cried, any restraint I had over my emotions lost. “I know what happened, and we both tried not to love each other and to no avail.”

Silence flooded the room as they stared at me, either shocked or indignant I had interrupted and refused to go along with whatever they said. My hands worked to clear the tears from my eyes as I struggled to regain some sense of composure. This wasn’t over yet.

Eternal: Chapter Three, Part 3

It seemed hours passed before she came out of the room, followed by a voice demanding Mitchell enter. She glanced in my direction and then retreated into a corner of her own, defeated. Whatever happened hadn’t gone well. It had exhausted and drained her.

Though I could have asked what had transpired, I resolved to plot, to find a solution to this new predicament. I didn’t want to be the ingénue and Drei the villain. Valetta and Mitchell didn’t deserve to be punished. At least, I didn’t want them to be punished. I wanted everything to work out well. I needed Drei; and although I didn’t know what they would do yet, I needed Valetta and Mitchell as well.

I was determined to find some solution. There had to be one.

Mitchell exited after another extensive period of waiting. He moved as if to look in my direction, but changed his mind and leaned against the wall a few feet from Valetta. The demanding voice summoned Drei.

He didn’t seem to see anything as he disappeared into the room again; he just stared ahead as if indifferent to these events. Watching him leave, I felt hurt. Not because I was afraid for him, but because he didn’t look at me. Once I had told him lying hurt more than it helped. Right then, all I wanted was for him to lie to me. Tell me it would all work out, or not to worry; I’d even settle for a convincing smile. Anything to make the situation seem better than it was.

There was a crack in the wall across from me. I stared at it, wondering. I wondered what was happening in that room; why, when I tried to listen in, I couldn’t keep my focus; what would happen to me; why they would leave this crack in the wall. It wasn’t a very interesting place to look. Occasionally, a spider or two crept in or out but, other than that, it was just a black slice of void. It gave me somewhere to look, I supposed. Somewhere that wasn’t completely hopeless. Valetta and Mitchell were so worn and defeated it made me feel worse to look at them. Something about this place suggested speaking with them would be entirely inappropriate and punishable by some obscure Council ruling.

As I stared and thought, occasional ideas popped up that had nothing to do with what I was thinking. All of them, I realized after a while, were related to the Council and my movement. Studying the hole in the wall as if it held the answer to how these two were connected, I began to see how I might be able to spare all of us from punishment. Might being the key word. I’d have to do a ton of smooth talking and hope the Council bought into it.

Eternal: Chapter Three, Part 2

“We shall begin the proceedings on this first night in May, of the human year 2015,” the presiding vampire, the one seated above the rest, stated in a dramatically disinterested voice. His dark eyes were scanning over a document before him, then they glinted at us as he continued, “We shall begin with the reading of your charges. Step forward when your name is called.”

“Valetta Bevinston,” the centermost councilmember began; Valetta took a step forward, her head up but her eyes diverted. “You are being charged with conspiring against Council rulings and being an accessory to unlawful conduct. Do you understand the charges brought against you?” His dark eyes bore into her.

“I do.”

“Very well, then,” he said, monotonously. “Mitchell Jameson.”

He stepped forward, changing places with Valetta. The vampire read the same list of charges, to which Mitchell agreed he understood. I watched, everything feeling as though it was happening in slow motion. This was happening because of me. They encouraged us, kept our secret, and now they were being charged as felons. It wasn’t right; I wanted to make this go away, to plot a way to fix things. But the vampire’s silky, monotonous voice demanded absolute attention and any attempt to do otherwise was thwarted the moment he spoke again.

“Drei Valmoritim.” My eyes followed Drei as he stepped forward, my plotting forgotten. Unlike Mitchell and Valetta, he didn’t look down, but stared at the vampire, awaiting the list of charges he faced. He knew, already, what rules he had broken, and the consequences. He wasn’t going fight them; he wouldn’t deny any of it. Despite the situation, that thought delighted me briefly. Drei wouldn’t deny me; even if that was our undoing, it was the greatest thing he could have done. The feeling, though, disappeared as the vampire began reading the charges.

“You are being charged with conspiring against Council rulings, jeopardizing an elemental’s purpose, seducing a mortal, seducing an elemental, feeding on a mortal, feeding on an elemental, and two acts of high treason: turning a mortal and turning an elemental.” My heart sank with each item. “Do you understand the charges brought against you?”

“I do,” Drei replied stonily, his face set like marble. Shadows didn’t dance across his features, but he appeared just as menacing as the others. I wished I could appear strong like him in this place; I’d even settle for the subdued guiltiness of Valetta and Mitchell. But all I continued to feel was ill and crushingly guilty.

“Abriel Jones.” Drei stepped back to the far side of Mitchell as I took his place, glancing down the line of shadowy figures before me before diverting my eyes to my feet. “Sir,” he said, turning to face the presiding vampire. “You wished to handle this one?”

“Yes, Tudor,” he replied before turning his attention away from the document before him. “Miss Jones, how long has it been since you were turned?”

“Roughly a year and a couple of weeks,” I answered, looking up at him as he leaned forward, more of his face coming into the lantern light.

“Were you given a choice in the matter?”

“Will it change anything?”

“In the case of your charges and the outcome in regards to you, it will,” he said, his black eyes studying me carefully. I was about to glance over my shoulder at Drei when he snapped at me to answer him. Yeah, they definitely knew how to be delicate about this sort of thing.

“No,” I whispered, unable to return my gaze to him.

“Miss Jones, you are then free of charges as an innocent, for the time being. If our interrogations to follow should find you otherwise, the charge will be of falsifying information and seduction of a vampire,” he said before sitting back again. “Should your status remain that of an innocent, during your interrogation, we will also deliberate what shall be done about you.” Was I really so much of a burden something had to be done about me? If I were in a better state I probably would have argued with him. I was their burden because they deemed me so, not because I had to be. “Do you understand your situation?”

“I do.”

“Adjourn to the hallway,” Tudor instructed. “You shall be summoned one at a time for your interrogations. We shall begin with Valetta Bevinston.”

In the hallway, Mitchell paced anxiously, glancing towards the door, concerned with how Valetta was faring. Drei leaned elegantly against a wall, his hands buried in his pockets, his eyes closed in meditation. Between Drei’s resignation and Mitchell’s nerves, I didn’t have focus enough to figure out how I was feeling amidst this mess. By now, I was fairly certain my nerves were shot and I was faintly worried about how Valetta was doing, how Mitchell would do next, and Drei after him, but I had no clue as to what the vast majority of me was feeling.

I sat curled in the corner, my head resting in my arms. This whole experience was tiring and the lack of fresh air wasn’t helping my hunger—now a fairly large part in my distraction. If anything, it only starved me faster.

Mentally shaking myself, I pried my mind from thoughts of my hunger and tried listening to whatever was happening to Valetta. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to concentrate long enough to pull the conversation to me. Their emotions were drawing too much of my element’s attention, seeking anything that resembled what it usually relied on to satiate me.

Eternal: Chapter Three, Part 1

Chapter Three: Time Bargain

Two vampires, their faces distorted by shadows cast by flickering torches overhead, ushered us from the car into a building with a worn smooth, stone exterior. I wasn’t sure where we were, but it wasn’t any part of the city I remembered seeing before. Everything here had an old fashioned feel to it, nothing like the modern or classic brick buildings to which I had grown accustomed. From what glimpses I caught of the building, it was built in a gothic mansion style, three stories, tall windows, and what seemed to be gargoyles—though it was difficult to tell in the darkness.

Inside, it reminded me of the kinds of places people tell you to stay away from in ghost stories. All of the walls were faded reds and browns with discolored crown moldings and cobwebbed corners. The main foyer was lit by a chandelier—electric, surprisingly enough. It, too, was strung with thick cobwebs.

We were led through dimly lit hallways and past numerous nondescript doors before our guides directed us to wait in a small sitting room. My nerves had me taking in everything from the cracked and flaking paint of the portrait over the fireplace to the stiff furniture in floral upholstery from what I guessed to be the Victorian era. There were no windows and the walls were blotchy in their fading, as if long-removed décor had prevented an even weathering. The only lighting came from the few scones spaced along the walls.

Drei sat across the room from me. I thought I understood why, but the action only worsened my nerves. Even with Valetta sitting beside me, pushing damp hair from my forehead and telling me it would be fine, I couldn’t help wondering what came next. What would they say or do? Why were Valetta and Mitchell here when they hadn’t done anything wrong? Was there a chance of talking the Council down from whatever decision they made? Sitting in that room, it didn’t feel like it. Not as time seemed to only vaguely tick away.

It seemed a lifetime had passed before another shadow faced vampire entered the room and announced the Council would see us. Drei and Mitchell followed Valetta and me out; all of the emotions they weren’t showing flooded my senses, making me feel sick. I wanted away from this suffocating tomb. If I kept telling myself this wouldn’t take long, I could attempt keeping the illness at bay; I didn’t allow myself to contemplate what a brief run-in with the Council might mean, though.

The vampire held the door as we filed into a dark room, allowing it to slam menacingly behind us and causing me to jump. Even if we were in quite the predicament, they could at least strive for ambivalence rather than menace.

A handful of lanterns sprang to life upon the towering desk before us, illuminating the seven council members and another who sat above them. I guessed the eighth might have been the eldest, the founder, or perhaps some sort of monarch; it was clear he was separate but more important than the others. Shadows danced over the eight faces and I noticed only one of them was female, which struck me as odd. As conservative as I had conceived them to be, it didn’t seem likely a woman would be among their numbers. Then again, if she was anywhere near as strong as Valetta—particularly in regards to intelligence and opinions—it was less surprising. I found her presence at the desk slightly calming and reassuring.

With the shadows playing across their visages, they seemed thinner than any movie exaggeration, their faces elongated and severe. The effect was meant to intimidate, obviously, but their image wasn’t nearly as unsettling as their possible ruling. I would have found it more unsettling if they were all sitting in a brightly lit room wearing blue jeans and tees, talking about the weather when we entered. This presentation was expected to some extent and, therefore, unimpressive.

Vampiric: Chapter Three, Part 4

Suddenly, I caught a hint of conversation.

“So what are we doing?” a hushed male voice questioned.

“Taking out some dangerous people or something like that,” a feminine voice answered brusquely. “Something about a threat to national security.”

“Over a broadcast?”

“Quiet in the back!” a cruel voice shouted, shushing the two people immediately.

Dashing back to the party, I sifted through the noise for Caroline's voice. She was talking with Conan and Ian in a side office. Their conversation stopped when I appeared in the doorway.

“Everyone needs to get out now,” I asserted, fully realizing how overly dramatic the statement sounded. Caroline just stared at me and I could have sworn Conan was throwing darts in my direction. “A whole bunch of government troops are on the way here right now.”

“How much time?” Caroline asked. She knew better than I realized how important it was to act, whether the information was valid or not. I was grateful, not because she didn't need verification, but because I didn't have the time to prove any of it. Unless they wanted to wait around.

“Minutes if we're lucky.”

“Not enough time to evacuate,” Conan said very matter-of-factly. I couldn't help wondering why he would be so negative. He was her secretary and in as much danger as the rest of us, if not more.

Ian shook his head at Conan, sharing a look with Caroline. “Get the passage open,” she said after Ian had already started on his way out of the room. She cursed under her breath a few times before leaving as well. Conan followed me out to see the table by the door had been moved aside and now revealed a black space with stairs leading downward.

“We built it in when we first decided on this place,” Caroline said, though I wasn't sure if it was for my benefit or Conan’s. Turning to the party guests—who had stopped to stare curiously at the gaping passageway—she barked, “If you want to live, you'll get your carcasses down those stairs now!”

I stepped back into the small office as people stampeded past, unquestioning but panicked. Conan stepped beside me and whispered in my ear, “If you'll be mine, I can protect you.”

Stepping back, I stared at him. He was serious. I’d had my suspicions but I couldn't believe he would make such a remark at a time like this. “I have someone,” I said bluntly, suddenly wondering where Drei was. “You should join the others.”

“You'll regret that,” he warned, turning away suddenly and forcing his way past everyone else and down the staircase.

“Someone needs to stay behind,” Caroline said as Ian and Drei made their way to where we were standing.

Before anyone else could say anything, I volunteered. Drei, Ian, and Caroline stared open-mouthed at me.

“No,” Drei said, shaking his head emphatically. “I will stay behind.”

“Be logical, Abs,” Caroline said. “We need you.”

Ian recovered just as I was about to turn away their objections. “She knows what she's doing, C. Let her do her part.” He looked at me, saying, “All you have to do is push the table back over and it'll close tight.”

“What if—”

“It’s almost impossible to open if you don’t know how,” he said hurriedly, trying to be kind but niceties weren’t really available with the current time constraint.

“She's saved our asses twice now,” she argued, looking as though she would set Ian on fire for agreeing with me.

“Do not be ridiculous,” Drei chided, reaching to pull me toward the last few people cramming into the opening.

“You can't change my mind. I need to do this.”

“Come on, C,” Ian said, dragging her away. She didn't stop staring at me until he started pulling her down the staircase.

“It's Conan,” I confided, knowing I didn't have much time before I had to force Drei to follow everyone else. “Either he tipped them off or they followed him.”

“You cannot be serious; I am not letting you stay.”

“I've made up my mind,” I said simply, forcefully. “Besides, who knows what they'd do to you.” He pulled me into his arms, squeezing me until I felt like I would suffocate, but I didn't complain. I was sure he thought this would change my mind, but it only reinforced my resolve. “Promise to find me.”

“That will not be necessary.”

I kissed him, praying it wouldn't be the last time I was able to. Then I pulled together a wall of air—hearing heavy footsteps outside—and shoved him into the passageway. “Find me,” I repeated, closing the entrance before he could escape and argue the point further.

I felt empty as I turned to face the desolate, disarrayed room. The footsteps were on the stairs now, so I didn't have long to wait. I walked to the middle of the space, not sure of how I was feeling; I knew I had to be the one to stay, I just wasn't sure why.

Being taken didn't scare me knowing Drei would come—I had no doubt he would. What scared me was the feeling I'd been having since we first met Caroline. It had dissipated slightly now that this second scrape had come to light, but it was still there. I didn't know what else it could be warning me about, though. And that was the worst part.

The door flew open and a few dozen people poured though, dressed in combat black, pointing blinding lights attached to weapons of which I caught only glimpses. A burly guy in a black suit stepped through the doorway last and stood behind the troops.

“Where did everyone go?” he questioned in a deep, booming voice.

I stared at his shadowy face, trying to determine what he wanted to hear. But the only thing filling my mind was Drei and my hope I would see him again. When I didn't say anything, he turned away, ordering, “Take her.”

It hadn't occurred to me what might have happened when he gave that command. I had just assumed there would be someone reading the Miranda Rights as someone else slapped on a pair of handcuffs and stuffed me into a car downstairs.

They weren't the police, though.

I felt something hard crash into my head. All I knew afterwards was a spiraling darkness.

Vampiric: Chapter Three, Part 3

“To us!” Caroline shouted over her team, standing on a table, now dressed in a hippie skirt and wrap blouse. We all quieted as the last of the champagne flutes were passed around. The gold in her eyes shined brighter as she gazed around, seeming to compliment everyone’s efforts in turn. “To a successful first broadcast. To everyone here. And to Abs, for getting us out of there before a run-in with the wrong people.”

Drei smiled at me from across the crowded room on the top floor of the warehouse. My cheeks flamed as everyone else turned and smiled, those nearest me giving a friendly pat on the back. I tried shrugging it off as though it were no big deal, but the attention was quickly returning to Caroline, so it didn’t matter.

“Let’s drink to a better tomorrow!” She downed the flute’s contents.

Someone started up some music and more drinks were passed around. While people paired off to dance or grouped to talk about the night and anything else, Caroline made her way towards me, Conan and Ian not far behind her.

“Conan doubled back after everyone cleared out,” she said, barely audible over the music. “Gov goons. If you hadn’t noticed it, we all would have been locked up by now…” She let her voice trail off, but I knew what was coming.

“You don’t owe me anything,” I said before she could say what she wanted. Personally, I didn’t want her to owe me anything. It would make when I left her operation that much easier.

Confusion and then some version of relief crossed her features, followed by her business-like demeanor. “You say that now, but everyone wants something sooner or later. I don’t forget my debts.”

I nodded for lack of something better to do; I wasn’t going to say what I was thinking.

Caroline stepped closer to me so her next words were spoken directly into my ear, her breath warm and unnerving. “I'm glad you signed on. I was wrong about you.”

She walked away. I knew what had prompted the compliment; that was obvious. But it felt like there was something else Caroline had been insinuating. Something I was missing. It worried me it might be something that could make a mess of things, too.

“Congratulations,” Drei praised, appearing beside me and interrupting my thoughts. He had left his flute behind somewhere; I didn't blame him. The moment I found a table, I was ditching mine. Alcohol was not what I needed; my thoughts were jumbled enough as it was.

“Thanks.” We were back to appearing together but not in a relationship, and it wasn't easy. Part of me wanted to let go of all the pretense and kiss him right there.

“I better head back that way,” he said before I could talk myself into anything.

“Okay;” I offered a weak smile. I knew he needed to bond with the other bodyguards if he wanted to be accepted by them, but that didn't mean I wanted him to go. The words “stay with me” were on the tip of my tongue, but I held them back. Part of not being together in public was not giving people an excuse to think you were together. I think that was the hardest part for me. I wanted so badly for us to be whoever we wanted to be, and the kiss yesterday didn't help things any either.

Drei sauntered across the room, gracefully slipping through the crowd as if the room were clear.

“That was amazing how you knew they were coming,” Conan said from behind me. I turned and was greeted by his sea-green eyes studying me curiously. “How did you know?”

“Ask C,” I said, having picked up on the fact she ultimately knew everything. “If she'll divulge that information.”

“Why can't you just tell me?” he flirted, moving to clear hair off my shoulder and brushing my cheek in the process.

Before I was unable to hide my discomfort and disgust, I excused myself and walked away. Conan wasn't a bad guy as far as I could tell, but I didn't enjoy the close proximity he took with me. As far as I knew, I hadn't done anything to suggest I was interested, but who knew? When you couldn't show off your boyfriend—or he you—things became complicated.

There was a table of refreshments I hadn't noticed earlier. That's where I left my champagne flute as I left the room. The hallways on this floor were pleasantly dark and quiet, the noise of the party muffled. Walking to the end, I leaned against the wall by a window, the panes frosted slightly and fogging over upon impact with my breath. I drew a heart in the condensation, remembering when my dad and I used to draw out whole comics on the windows of our rooms during ski trips. Not for the first time, I wondered how he was doing. He seemed to pop up in my thoughts every once in a while and I felt guilty leaving him in the state I had.

After he had shared everything he knew about my mom, he was a mess. The memories were still painful, even after all these years. The next day I left without telling anyone, and I wondered if he was as destroyed by my absence as he was by my mom's supposed death. My real mom, not my adoptive mother who put me through the paces of high society.

I reached out my senses, hearing the ocean roar in the distance. It took me a moment to realize there was another sound that shouldn't be there.

I tried to remember if there was anyone who hadn't showed up for the celebration. Counting the cars parked below, I knew everyone was here. So then why were there cars approaching? This stretch of the dock was pretty much abandoned, and I couldn’t fathom why a caravan of vehicles would be coming out here so late.

I pulled the conversations from the vehicles and found nothing but silence. These definitely weren't party goers. It didn't seem possible the government would have been able to locate the headquarters so quickly. Not after all the precautions they had taken.

Unless they had seen Conan circling back and had someone follow him.

Vampiric: Chapter Three, Part 2

No one was outside as far as I could see or hear. I was relying more on my ears than my eyes—the cracked windows along the north side of the building looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in forever—which was probably closer to the truth than I cared to know.

About an hour earlier, we were all loaded into various vehicles—so as not to appear suspicious—and arrived in this other building. There were three other lookouts, each of us patrolling a different cardinal direction. Mostly everyone else was in the broadcasting room. Being an air elemental was great for me. Though most people would remain in the dark, I used my gifts to figure out what I wanted to know. In a few minutes it would be 8:30 and Caroline’s broadcast would be on every television screen within fifty miles, and I would be tuning in while keeping an ear open for anything strange.

A minute ‘til, I pulled the conversations from the broadcasting room to me. They still weren’t ready and I could hear Conan trying desperately to keep Caroline calm amongst the chaos so she could still go through with the broadcast. A few people were babbling about a traceable signal and the bodyguards were itching, just as nervous as everyone else that this would fail.

“I thought you worked out the—”

“C,” Conan chided. “Language please. The equipment will be running in twenty seconds whether the signal is traceable or not. We can’t back out now or people are going to be staring at a blank room for ten minutes.”

“I know!”

“Five…four…three…” a female voice said, silencing Caroline.

I knew the program had started, but no one said anything. For a moment, I thought it was all a waste; she wasn’t going to go through with it. Drei had been wrong about her and, after all her talk, I was disappointed.

“Fellow citizens,” she started, and there was a wave of relief from everyone in the room. “Our government has lied to us.”

The line was intended to provoke incredulity at the accusation. Our government, founded by the people, couldn’t be against us. There was no way. The gut reaction was inescapable.

“Our government stopped caring about we the people ages ago when it started redirecting funds for education to wars abroad; wars to intimidate others into falling in line. It has fed us bile and manure about why we must solve the world’s problems, why we must sacrifice our brave men and women, why we need to be the bringer of peace. Under our government, there is no peace. There is no contentment without an enemy or a cause. We feed the war machine which in turn feeds the wealthy. And while the rich become richer, the poor can barely scrap together enough to live.

“The truth is before your very eyes. The career politicians do less and less every year and still earn more than the hardworking families who keep this economy going. They sit in gilded luxury while some people work two or three jobs just to make ends meet. They tout the benefits we provide to other nations in pursuing conflict and war while we underpay teachers, underprepare students, and consistently fail to provide any solution to random acts of violence plaguing campuses, schools, and public establishments domestically.

“Ask yourself why?” She paused, letting her words sink in and the audience ponder her question. “To keep the people weak, the very people who give power to the government, gives them greater strength. If we are weak and distracted by our everyday struggles, our fight for survival, we cannot organize successfully to demand change. If we are divided along party lines, believing someone else cannot possibly support the same causes, we provide a reason for change to stall. And if we buy into the lies we are fed about our involvement abroad, we will not question the lack of attention paid at home.

“Our government is cunning. It has done well to distract, divide, and bully us into a silence, claiming we are unpatriotic or socialist or heathen if we attempt to break free of the illusion. We have been misguided; worse yet, we perpetuate the falsehoods and misguide each other.

“But it is not too late to change the future. We need change in our society, and the only way we can do that is to demand it—”

There was a staticky noise outside. I tuned out Caroline’s speech—which, if she played this last part right, would anger the general public into following her religiously—and focused on finding that strange noise. Reaching my hearing out as far as possible, I could just make out a vehicle and murmurs inside about following something. The conversation was too broken up.

I ran, searching for Caroline’s voice in the building again, hoping we could all make it out of here safe. My biggest fear was that it was too late, that she wouldn’t be able to wrap up the broadcast soon enough to evacuate. She was halfway through her lengthy conclusion when the outer ring of bodyguards let me through.

“—we’ve started over before; we can do it again—” Caroline was saying as Conan crossed the large room to me. “What is it?” he whispered shortly, as if more annoyed I was there than worried about why I was there.

“Someone’s headed this way. They’re following some trace or something.”

“How far off?” he asked, not even bothering to ask how I knew. I was grateful because there wasn’t time to explain it, and I certainly wasn’t going to be captured because of this.

Running some quick, more than likely inaccurate, calculations in my head, I guesstimated, “About eight minutes, less even.”

Without hesitation, Conan swirled around and made the guillotine motion. It amazed me at how quickly everyone jumped to work. Most of the crew started cleaning up their computers as quietly as possible so as not to interrupt Caroline’s crash ending.

“This revolution has been long coming, and it’s time we bring it out into the open. We’ll be back, and if you want to see a brighter future, you will be, too.”

Someone capped the camera and Caroline slipped into her coat, speed walking out the door, the rest of us following her. We split up into the different vehicles and they all took off in different directions. Ian sped off into the heart of the city. I didn’t know where Drei was, but those people who were coming scared me more than not knowing where he was. We would find each other. The drivers were supposed to drive in circles for an hour before converging on HQ again.

Ian said, “Don’t worry, love. We gave them the slip thanks to you.” He winked a sapphire gem at me in the rear view mirror.

But that wasn’t what worried me. That might have been the bad feeling I was having all night, but the feeling wasn’t gone. Something else was going to happen, but I dared not say anything without knowing what first.

Vampiric: Chapter Three, Part 1

Chapter Three: A Time for Everything

“Nervous?” Conan asked. He had been walking around assigning specifics to jobs that had been kept a secret until now. No one knew all of what was happening, just his or her own part. Drei and I had been standing in the warehouse for an hour, waiting for someone to tell us it was starting…whatever it was.

Conan had just directed Drei to a group dressed in black from head to toe and practicing serious faces between jokes. I guessed that was the rest of her inner circle, and it was even more obvious how Drei stood out from them all. For starters, most of them were shorter, and though a few had some bulging muscles, their dispositions were too cheerful to be threatening—though I had no doubt they could possibly intimidate someone.

“Why do you ask?”

“You keep looking around, like you’re trapped or something,” he answered, marking something on his clipboard. I noticed for the first time his hair wasn’t brown, like I had thought, but it had an orange tinge to it. Strange how it seemed kind of important now. Maybe that was because I was hoping he would go away without forcing me to be rude.

“I like to know my surroundings,” I lied, hoping it satisfied him. “And I like to know what’s going on, but that doesn’t ever really happen.”

He laughed at that. I didn’t like his laugh; it was a harsh barking sound that better resembled a cross between yelling and howling. “C never likes people to know everything; too risky.”

“I figured as much.” I wished he’d stop talking to me.

“Well, you’re pretty much one of the only lookouts. We don’t group you all together since you need to stand off on your own anyway. So…just wait here I guess until we’re ready to go.”

I nodded, turning away from him slightly. Not taking the hint he should move onto whoever was left, Conan laid a hand on my forearm.

“It’ll be fine;” he shrugged. “We planned it out really well and nothing should go wrong.”

“That’s not what I was thinking.” I stared at his hand and wished it away; I resisted the urge to brush it off or move away from him. That would be rude and might give him the wrong idea. Not just about how I treated people, but possibly—since he wasn’t taking the hints—that I was playing “hard to get.”

“It’s on everybody’s mind. But if you need someone to talk to, I’m here; I’m told I have a good ear, too.”

I forced a strained smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He finally sauntered off to a group of blonds in the corner. I couldn’t help noticing he didn’t bother them as he had me—and they wanted him to flirt with them, too, from the way they were constantly touching his arm and adjusting their hair.

Conan didn’t know what he was talking about. I wasn’t nervous about tonight; I was worried about what would come after. I couldn’t shake the feeling something would go terribly wrong. And these feelings hadn’t been wrong before.

Elemental: Chapter Three, Part 5

My blue-gray eyes stared emptily back at me, reminding me of the way Mom had transformed in my mind the night before. I looked as though I hadn’t slept a wink, which might have been the truth. All I could remember, however, was the history of my parents replaying like some horrible family film, always ending with Dad leaving, never to see her again.

I didn’t want to go to school; it was the last thing I wanted to do. Everyone would be talking about yesterday, about the girl who lost it—and more. My mind thoughtfully simulated the jeering faces and deafening silence. Half of me questioned why the past couldn’t be left alone, but the other half argued I had done my fair share of digging.

Turns out, I should have stayed home.

The moment I stepped onto campus, everyone shushed. It seemed to thrill them to peek around the corner at the girl who went psycho not even 24 hours earlier. Giggles echoed everywhere, nearly as much as the stealthy tiptoes and retreating footsteps of pathetic children lacking anything better to do.

In my locker was a note from Sara, apologizing profusely between her ravings of doing nothing wrong. Half of it denied any responsibility on her part. It ended with her begging me not to kill her, which hadn’t crossed my mind before that point—not that I would seriously contemplate it.

My first three classes I kept to a back corner of the room, having noticed in homeroom how everyone seemed to avoid sitting too close. Nothing changed during those classes. I seemed to radiate an aura of “fear me” so that even teachers were contented when I didn’t offer my usual participation. I could feel the waves of relief washing from them every time a question was posed and they glimpsed my way to see I hadn’t volunteered to answer.

Lunch was when the message became undeniably clear this was not just a one-day phase. Our school newspaper—the same one that managed to inform the student body of student news after it had ceased to be news—had published and released an edition focusing solely on moi.

I easily glimpsed the cover page, sporting an artistic version of myself floating, glowing abnormally, and resembling an earlier sketch of a popular weather controlling mutant. Everyone seemed to be reading the fresh copy, and an occasional finger found its way to my current position. The raucous of the room had hushed into a murmur of gossip and rumors from the moment I entered. If I neared a table of whispering girls, or chuckling guys, the energy and sound was vacuumed away until I passed; only then did it once again explode and infect the table’s occupants.

I had just decided on not eating in the lunchroom when someone stood and shouted, “Look! There’s the freak!”

Bursts of laughter and agreement echoed through the room and swam in my ears. Feigning deafness, I calmly exited the cafeteria through the rear door and only then allowed myself to sprint quicker than humanly possible to my car.

My eyes fell upon my poor vehicle, cluttered in teasing graffiti, sticky notes, toilet paper, and eggs. I dropped my backpack and stared horrified at my once beautiful, blue hybrid. Tears threatened to fall as I fled from the representation of my destroyed life. En route, I promised myself never to lose control again—regardless of what it required. My livelihood was ruined because of it, as well as everything inside of me.

At home, I found the house devoid of life. I was alone, as I was starting to realize I always had been. I’d been on my own since my mom left me to this supposedly better life; since my father traveled endlessly trying to escape her memory; since Kenzy tried to control everything I was when she couldn’t even begin to imagine. That realization shattered my world.

Elemental: Chapter Three, Part 4

Late that night, I was sprawled across the salmon satin coverlet atop my bed, my ear buds in place, but no sound emitting from them. My gaze bore unseeingly into the dark abyss overhead. The flicker of memory gazed back at me. It was everything my father had said and everything he had omitted.

He followed her up the stairs, both of them beaming and anxious. My mom, as drawn from his memories, was tall, tan, slender, muscular, and fragile. Her long, dark blond hair needed a brush, but still looked radiant in its wild nature. Her eyes were faded cerulean, hidden beneath long lashes and complimented by full pink lips. As they climbed, she kept looking over her shoulder, but her eyes scanned for something beyond my father. There was tension in her smile, her lips appearing as though they were pulled too tightly; she tried to emulate the carefree nature he had remembered, but it felt like a cheap imitation. He didn’t care, though; she was here again, and they were together.

When they reached the hotel room, she shushed him and quietly led. There was an exchange of money in favor of a stout lady in a pressed maid’s uniform, and then hustling into a dark corner of the small room.

Mom stood back as my father looked at me, at the child half-asleep between pillows and blankets. His expression was joyous at first sight, but quickly darkened. His cool composure failed him in the moments before Mom said, “She just turned four months old last week.”

As he swiveled around to look properly at her, she let her defenses fall, morphing into another person. Her jovial youth evaporated to reveal a worn woman, sleepless for worry. The muscles that had been tense and strong fell, leaving her deflated. Even the untamed halo of hair seemed to exhaust.

“Her name is Abriel,” she said weakly, a slight smile lifting her face. My father hugged her intensely, truly happy. “I can’t take care of her, Charlie,” Mom whispered. “Please, take her…you can give her a better life.”

The memory dissolved before me. I knew the rest, but none with such vivid imagery.

Mom went missing again a short while afterwards. When two years had passed without a trace, they proclaimed her dead. According to Drei, she had been taken by bounty hunters. Dad didn’t know it, but somehow I knew it to be the truth. Just as I was the only one who knew the only reason she came back was for me. To spare me a worse fate.

Elemental: Chapter Three, Part 3

I was losing him to some memory I knew nothing of. To only know so much and begin to lose him was shredding my heart. Knowing who my mom was wasn’t enough anymore. I had to know what had happened. I had to know who she had been to him.

“What happened?” I prompted, my voice pleading and anxious.

His watery eyes found mine, and seemed to find an anchor to this reality along with it. “Sorry,” he muttered, dragging his hand across his eyes.

“What happened?” I repeated when he didn’t begin to answer.

He sighed heavily. “We started seeing each other; at first casually, but then we were together more and more frequently. It was no longer a friendship, but more of a partnership. She had the uncanny ability to know just what to say to make everything better or worse. And her bright, flighty personality drew me closer in until I seriously considered divorcing Kenzy.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Shush, you’re getting ahead of the story,” he reprimanded. I waited impatiently as he recollected his thoughts of the past. “She went missing,” he started again. “No one knew where she had gone, or why she had left. When she reappeared nearly a year later, Kenzy and I had come to an—um, an agreement in our marriage.”

“What?” I screeched. As the story of my mother and father unfolded, despite being abridged, I found I had curled up on the chair as I used to when he would tell me stories of romance and chivalry. “What arrangement?”

“Calm down,” he said, motioning for me to sit with him again. This time I obeyed, hoping that, if anything like my mom, I would better understand what came next. “Kenzy had found out about my relationship with Ty. After months of arguing about divorce, equality, and children, we agreed to stay married and be faithful to each other. Supposing the arrangement held, we would consider adopting a child. A huge concession for Kenzy considering her tenacious feelings toward adoption.

“But then Ty returned, and I couldn’t see myself ever keeping to something so inane. I loved her; how could I give her up?”

“You couldn’t,” I answered gently. “So you saw her again.”

“The first time we met privately, after her return,” he continued, “we went to a hotel. It was where she was staying. I had thought it was temporary, but couldn’t imagine anyone denying her a place to stay. Everyone loved her.”

“Dad, what was important about that time?” I sensed that if I didn’t pry him from his thoughts, I would never hear the end of the story. It no longer was just something to know; it was a need. I needed these answers, this story, some kind of control in my life, something true—really true—to believe.

His pearly whites gleamed at me. “That was the first time I met you. You were so strong and determined for an infant. All the world was a wall to be torn down and rebuilt for you.” He squeezed my shoulders in a one-armed hug. “After the initial shock, I was hurt. My thoughts weren’t possessive…they were dismissive. I was ready to storm out before she told me you were little more than four months old. You were mine…” his voice trailed, seeming to leave the past behind. The hazel eyes found the current me and settled on the image. “You're mine.”

A silence swallowed us as he reasoned out fact from the imaginary accumulated over the years. He laughed to himself at some point, saying, “I had convinced myself it was all a lie. That she really was waiting somewhere. Ty couldn’t be dead. She was too special to die so young.”