The First Musical: Chapter Four: Johnathan, Part 3

The girl auditioning had a flighty little voice. I marked her sheet chorus in the event she made the cut. Chorus didn’t have a lot of parts but there would be quite a few of them for the scenes in which they did appear. Her voice wasn’t strong or powerful even with the microphone on her ear. I wasn’t even sure I was going to cast her, but I always felt badly for dismissing people before they were done. Given my latest actions, I didn’t want to feel worse than I already did.

When the mousy thing finally finished, I thanked her, calling forth the next person.

The college had allowed me to use one of the smaller auditoriums as I planned to cast mostly students in the production. There was a small balcony, but no orchestra pit, and the seats needed to be replaced. Even the walls were drab and dated. The stage, at least, was in decent condition with a beautifully carved—though faded—proscenium.

Carmen sauntered onto the stage, her blond locks pulled back into a high ponytail.

“I’ll be auditioning for the lead,” she said, as though I didn’t know already.

“You don’t even know what the available roles are.”

“I know there has to be a lead female role of some kind.”

“The production is entitled Musical as there is no other title given to it. You may claim to audition for the lead, but I will ultimately decide if you make the production at all.”

“I realize that,” she answered. “I’ll start now.”

And she did. Her voice had a certain beauty to it, but there wasn’t anything raw about it. She was trained to sing, and in that training, she seemed to have lost the soul of her voice. I marked Carmen down in one of the two secondary roles. It would suit her, playing one of the best friends to Gisele’s lead. Hopefully it would minimize damage control as she would be the better of the two.

“Thank you, and we’ll be in touch,” I said, as I had for probably the thirtieth time that night. “Next?”

A few people later, Baron stepped onto the stage. He had a demanding yet unassuming presence, standing with his feet apart and his thumbs hooked in his pockets.

“I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“Sing a few lines from your favorite song.”

Shrugging, he began a country song; I was right about him. He had a great baritone voice. If I needed, he could probably hit most of the tenor and bass ranges. I marked him down for the male lead’s friend.

“Did you want a part?”

“I don’t care,” he said, shrugging again. “Did she audition?”

“Yes, she auditioned,” I said, adding a question mark to his sheet and setting it off to the side. “Thank you, we’ll be in touch. Next?”

From there the auditions went downhill. It seemed every person who had ever thought they might be able to sing came. I was somewhat grateful, though. It meant I had more time to think about Gisele and how I would begin her rehearsals.

We could start right into the thick of it, but that would be impossible. It would be giving her a crutch without her realizing it. Then when her rehearsals coincided with everyone else’s, we wouldn’t accomplish anything.

“Thank you, we’ll be in touch. Next?”

I had a month with her. In that time, she had to learn to trust me as well as herself. The production would fall apart if she didn’t trust especially herself. Trusting me was just a bonus. There had to be a balance between working on the music and working on her self-esteem. I didn’t yet know where that was.

“…Next?”

The First Musical: Chapter Four: Johnathan, Part 2

“What do you want now?” Gisele asked, her gaze fixed stonily on the textbook before her. We were in one of the study nooks of the library. It was largely empty on the Friday afternoon.

“I wanted to apologize for the situation I put you in last time.”

“Just leave me alone and we’ll call it good,” she said, leaning closer to the book as though wishing she could disappear into it to escape my presence.

Wincing, I forged onward; “I already told you I can’t. You’re my lead.”

She faced me, unable to mask her anger. To see her so furious hurt because I really was sorry.

“Casting me as the lead will ruin your production,” she said before turning away again.

“Because you really do have stage fright?” I asked. “Or because of something someone else did?”

Her hands clenched so tightly into fists to suppress their shaking, her skin paled. Tension seized her body and she refused to look at me. “What do you know about that?” she asked softly.

“Nothing really,” I said, taking the empty seat on the other side of her. “It’s all speculation.”

“Keep it that way.”

“I’ll need to know if I’m going to help you.”

“I don’t want your help,” she snipped, glaring at me.

“You will if you’re going to be ready to perform.”

“What makes you think I want to perform? I haven’t performed in over two years and I’ve been perfectly happy.”

“That’s a lie. You aren’t happy.”

“You don’t know me well enough to make that judgment.”

“Either way, you were born to perform. You come alive when you perform.” I was prepared to fight her every step of the way; I had mentally readied myself to deal with any emotional breakdown she might face. There wasn’t anything that could happen I couldn’t support her through if she let me.

“That sounds as convincing as saying you were born an angel of good intent.”

“I wasn’t. I never said I was, either.” Gisele glared harder at me. It’s hard to say I hadn’t deserved it. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“Because that’s so comforting to know.”

“It may or may not be, but it’s true. Your rehearsals start in a week. The practice room, for now,” I said, not wanting to add to her hostility any more than I already had.

“My rehearsals?” She cocked her eyebrows.

“You’re my lead. The first month will be private rehearsals. If you don’t show up, I’ll drag you there.”

“How can I convince you you’re wrong? That you need to cast someone else?” she asked, better concealing her anguish.

“I’m not wrong,” I assured her, standing. “I’ll help you see that.”

The First Musical: Chapter Four: Johnathan, Part 1

She has the most angelic voice I’ve ever heard. It was cruel what I did, but I realized it was the only way I could guarantee she would audition. Relying on Baron and Carmen wasn’t working. She had left me no other choice.

And now I better understood the source of her stage fright. It was less fear and more a reminder of a betrayal. Helping her overcome it would be much more challenging than I’d anticipated; it wouldn’t help she already distrusted me.

I had her, though. Gisele stood up to me, pushed back. I still unnerved her for whatever reason, which fueled her distrust. But when she ran from me this time, it wasn’t in fear.

The next day, I didn’t shadow her; I didn’t even go to the campus. She was emotional—whether pissed off, sad, or some harrowing combination of the two—and I preferred she work through it without having to deal with me. I didn’t want to make things worse.

But as I sat reviewing the musical, modernizing some of the dialogue, I couldn’t help but remember how she had cried. Though I knew she had to be the lead—and her audition further proved that—I wished there had been an easier way for her to realize that as well. Hurting her wasn’t what I had intended to do. She had to be strong.

At this rate, I wasn’t sure when would be a good time to tell her who was starring opposite her. The most probable reaction would be quite dramatic.

Eternal: Chapter Four, Part 5

Drei, who had reappeared overnight, didn’t want me to go; he insisted I shouldn’t press my luck. It wasn’t a surprise when I objected; I had to go. When the day proved sunny, he attempted again to talk me out of going. Then, relenting, he brought out an umbrella and made me swear I wouldn’t forget to use it. Though his worrying seemed like it was because he thought I was incapable of managing myself, I knew it was because he loved me and he worried.

He wasn’t coming with me, despite my asking, and it was because he was still working on his secret project. I promised myself if his project wasn’t done by the time I had brought everyone together for a first official meeting, I would ask—and when I did, I would have an answer.

At first, it was strange walking through the streets with an umbrella—something came up and I assured Ian I was fine walking there. But after a while, I realized people didn’t care; they weren’t staring at me. Most of the people who even glanced at me probably either questioned my sanity or suspected I had a heightened threat of skin cancer or something to that effect. It made me grateful for the city.

Caroline was waiting in the lobby when I arrived.

“What’s with the umbrella?” she asked, gesturing to it, her lips scrunched to the side in disapproval.

“Direct sunlight is detrimental to my health,” I said, shrugging. “Shall we meet your lawyer?”

After eyeing me a moment longer, perhaps hoping to lure a better answer from me, she conceded; “Angeline’s waiting for us upstairs.”

It wasn’t long before Caroline was leading me into Angeline Baxter’s office, which may have been poor timing on our part as she was angrily talking into her speakerphone about someone named Brommer.

“…And you know what he did today? He had the nerve to assume how I make my coffee every morning. So, not only does he show me up in success rate—which doesn’t even make sense since he doesn’t have nearly as many connections within the system as I do—now he’s trying to get to know me?” she complained, pacing behind her desk as Caroline and I sat down. “He makes me so angry.”

Caroline let her rant on a short while longer before clearing her throat—more from boredom than irritation.

“Oh, I’ve got to go. My twelve o’clock is here,” she asid, and the person on the other end assured her they’d talk more later. “Sorry about that.” Angeline sat down, composing herself. “It’s great to see you again, Caroline. Nothing wrong, I hope.”

“Not at all,” Caroline assured her, sitting back and lacing her fingers together in her lap. “I’m actually here because my friend, Leirba Jones, is looking into beginning an endeavor and wanted to make sure she had legal backing.”

“You must be Miss Jones,” Angeline noted, facing me. A strand of her brunette hair fell free from her careful pinning; she shoved it behind an ear, her hazel eyes scanning me to figure out what kind of endeavor this was exactly and how much quick thinking she was going to have to do.

“It’s nothing necessarily illegal,” Caroline offered, studying her nails now.

“I’m starting a revolution and I need to make sure what I do won’t be slowed down with legal problems,” I elaborated, sitting upright, my hands folded in my lap. “Caroline tells me you’re the best.”

“Caroline told you right,” a tenor voice said from behind us. Caroline and I turned to stare at the stunning young man entering the room. He was easily five eight and of a slender build, dressed in a brown three piece suit. His hair was clean cut and auburn in color, and his dark gray eyes glinted joyfully as he approached the now standing with her hands on her squared hips Angeline. “Miss Baxter is the best. It’s an honor to work for the same firm as her.”

“What’s this about?” she demanded defensively as he stopped just before her. She tried to stand straighter to appear taller than her five foot six height—with heels—but she only succeeded in seeming slightly flustered. “You have no right to interrupt my meeting.”

“I just wanted to see what kind of new clientele you were attracting,” he said, glancing a moment at Caroline and I before turning his eyes back to her.

“You could have seen from the window instead of interrupting us,” Angeline snipped, though I had the feeling it was more for show.

Caroline was disinterested, studying her nails again, waiting for it to pass. I couldn’t help but wonder if Angeline was always so easily distracted. Though watching her and whom I assumed to be Mr. Brommer, I was beginning to see why he bothered her. That wasn’t the only thing I picked up on, though. There was something about Mr. Brommer that was different. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it but I knew he was here for a reason.

“You’re both hired,” I stated, standing up.

The two stared blankly at me, their prior conversation forgotten. Mr. Brommer spoke first; “What?”

“Both of you will be my legal consultants for the duration of my movement,” I elaborated to catch him up. “I want you to work together.”

“But—” Angeline began.

“Are we done then?” Caroline asked, looking up from her nails for the first time in five minutes.

“Justin Brommer,” he introduced, shaking my hand, then Caroline’s. “I’d be delighted to work with Miss Baxter for you.”

“I know,” I assured, smiling kindly. “We’ll be in touch.”

Caroline added, “Charge my account for payment. It was nice to see you again, Angeline.”

In the elevator, I said, “You don’t have to cover the costs.”

Facing the elevator doors, Caroline replied, “I want to.”

“I don’t want you paying for everything, Caroline.”

“I’m going to, whether you want me to or not,” she said in her annoyingly level voice. There was no way I could convince her otherwise.

Shaking my head, I relented the argument. Some things would never change.

Eternal: Chapter Four, Part 4

“You knew I wasn’t dead?” I asked, cocking my head to the side, slightly put out. Mitchell’s habit of harmlessly tormenting people for fun was really starting to rub off on me. I was fairly certain that wasn’t healthy.

“I knew you were still around more than I knew you were alive,” he replied, shrugging and crossing his arms over his chest. “You have a unique imprint in the air that was still hanging around. When it disappeared that day, that’s when I called Caroline and learned what had happened. But then it came back.”

“It’s all…really complicated,” I said, knowing he was thinking about how it was always complicated—it did seem that way. “But I’m not even sure if I’m supposed to talk about it.”

He nodded. “She was a mess for the longest time, though.”

“Drei told me,” I assured him, hoping that subject would go away too. I didn’t like knowing I had been the cause of pain for people. It was part of the reason I tried not to think about my parents.

“But she seems better now.”

“I helped her let go of the grief and guilt she was holding on to,” I explained, shrugging, hoping he wouldn’t see it as a bad thing.

“That was nice of you,” he said softly, seeming to look past me. Yeah, he didn’t agree with it, but I personally hated to watch people suffer when I could help them.

“You aren’t mad at me, are you?” I asked, studying the bows on the toes of my flats. Ian was the only free air elemental I knew of, and I wasn’t sure how well I could pull off anything knowing I had angered him. He was one of those people I never wanted to cross, and not because he scared me. Ian was probably one of the frankest people I knew and that, in itself, was invaluable.

“Come ‘ere, love,” he said, pulling me into his arms again. “I can’t be mad at you when I’m sure you wouldn’t have put her through so much if you could’ve helped it.” Kissing the top of my head, he added, “Besides, you’re back now.”

“It’s—”

“Because it’s your time to run things,” he finished for me, unsmiling.

“How’d you know?” I stared up at him.

Approaching his painting, he pointed to the only gray strip branching away from the strand near the top of the canvas. I hadn’t noticed it before, but the three strips chasing after it weren’t pulling it back; they were swirling around it and creating the start of what could be a new strand. “That’s you.”

“You can’t be sure—that might be you,” I insisted, not wanting to believe him.

“I’m supposed to spread truths, but not until after there’s been a great change,” he said, scanning my face. “Which means it has to be soon because I’ve already begun painting.”

“Why can’t it have already happened?” I argued, knowing he was probably right since it was his work—he should know—but being stubborn just the same.

“Because every other air elemental who has led a movement was chosen to lead it by luck, not because they stepped up to lead it.” Eyeing me, having cornered me with the very information I had spent months studying, he concluded, “Until you.”

We stared at each other for the longest time. I still didn’t want to believe that was supposed to be me, but I couldn’t form an articulate argument in response; history was on his side, as well as his own destiny. The silence was broken when Caroline returned with her coffee.

“There’s more if either of you would like some,” she said, sitting on one of the couches, oblivious to the situation upon which she had stumbled.

“No, thanks,” Ian said as I said, “I’m good.”

“Suit yourselves,” she replied, shrugging, clutching her mug in her lap as if it were extremely cold in the room. “So, Abs, what’s the plan? Where do we start?”

Ian and I sat down on either side of her. “I still need a lawyer, and then I have to find the other four people I want on my core team,” I said, trying to remember what else I had already figured out. “Then we work on setup, because that’ll take some time. I’ll go more into detail when I have a full team, but that’s the basics.”

“Sounds like what we started with,” Caroline said to Ian, who nodded. “I can set up the appointment with my lawyer tomorrow. Noon work okay?”

I knew I couldn’t admit I was a vampire and that noon might not work out so well, so I said, “Sure,” hoping everything would work out in my favor. I either needed it to be overcast or to find a really big hat, though an umbrella might work as well; I’d make it work.

“Perfect. Ian can pick you up. Just like old times.”

“Of course,” Ian agreed, smiling as big as Caroline was.

Smiling back, I nodded, wishing it really was like old times. I had thought things were complicated then, but this was an entirely different web of all new proportions, and I would have given almost anything to have the old worries back.

Eternal: Chapter Four, Part 3

Caroline drove us across town to Ian’s loft apartment. I hadn’t been there since the Thanksgiving we spent together, but it hadn’t changed much. The most striking difference was the artwork everywhere. Canvases were propped against and hung on all the walls, the images ranging from tranquil or busy scenes to abstract splashes of color or seemingly randomly placed angles and shapes.

One piece in particular caught my eye—partly for the color choices and partly because it seemed to be calling to me, demanding attention; it was propped against the floor to ceiling windows in the area functioning as a living room. In the center, blue, green, gray, and red ribbons twisted and intertwined in the center, strands peeling away in different directions, the other colors clutching to them—following and pulling them back. The strand was surrounded by blackness, a void of nonexistence; except light radiated around the ribbons and the strips breaking away.

“He calls it Contamination,” Caroline said, standing beside me. “I think it’s brilliant, but he won’t listen to me. Something about it being a statement.”

“It is a statement,” I said, wanting to touch it, but not wanting to be disrespectful, either.

“How?” Caroline huffed impatiently, crossing her arms. “Ian won’t explain it to me.”

“This is us,” I said, pointing to the strands. “The four elements and consequently all of the elementals. The blackness is the world; the people who don’t have the connections to nature we have, so they don’t understand what we do, especially about the way the world is.”

“Then the light is the contamination?” she asked, glancing from me back to the painting. “Contamination is a bad thing, isn’t it?”

“It’s often given a negative connotation, yes. But in this case, people don’t see the good we cause. Most would be afraid if they knew the truth about a lot of us,” I said, struggling to find the words that would make her understand what I did. “So to darkness, light can be seen as a bad thing, though oftentimes light is given a positive connation. To a world in darkness, light is contamination.”

“So we’re just gifted to make things worse?”

“Not at all;” I turned to face her. I never would have thought she would have drawn that conclusion. “We make things better, in theory.”

“You’re losing me,” she warned, shaking her head and closing her eyes. “We’re contaminating the dark world but we’re the good ones?”

“More, the world is in darkness because they don’t know. When they don’t know, it doesn’t really seem like anything is changing. There’s just…an angry environmentalist trying to stop companies from polluting rivers, or—or a crazy tree hugger trying to save the rainforest,” I said, taking a different approach. “For the longest time, we’ve been discouraged from letting people know we’re elementals, that we’re different. That’s why the branching strips are being pulled back.”

“But why are there are so many branching off if they’re not supposed to?”

“Because the people need to know eventually. If they know, they might listen more to what we have to say.”

“Or they might just think we’re freaks,” Caroline countered skeptically, crossing her arms and shivering. Definitely not a reaction I would have expected from her. I couldn’t help feeling these thoughts weren’t necessarily her own, but someone else’s that had been ground into her.

“Some people will think anyone different is a freak,” Ian said from behind us, causing us both to jump. Caroline hit his arm as I waited for him to finish his statement. “If any of us are really going to make a difference in anything, we have to stop being afraid of the people who will hate us.”

“Why didn’t you just explain that the first time I asked you?” Caroline demanded, pouting a little. I wasn’t sure she understood; all I could really hope was that she was beginning to.

“Do you realize how long it took her to explain it to you?” he retorted, turning his bright blue eyes on me. “You’ve changed…a lot.”

I smiled, trying to lighten his mood as his observation seemed to depress him. “And you haven’t changed at all,” I said, noting he still wore a stocking cap over his flaming red hair.

Hugging me, he added, “Sorry you had to explain it to her. I’m glad you understood it.”

“Of course I understood it.”

“I didn’t,” Caroline reminded us, hands on her hips. “Oh, and you have to call Abs Leirba now.”

“Why’s that?” he asked, his left eyebrow cocked.

“Drei’s choice, really. I’m just going with the flow.”

“I’m going to make coffee,” Caroline announced, heading to the kitchen area.

“You know where everything is.” When she was out of earshot, he confided, “She really missed you. What took you so long to resurface?”

Eternal: Chapter Four, Part 2

Her tears subsided, but she still hid her face. Even with the thick knot of emotions released, she must have felt obligated to still be apologetic and culpable.

“I don’t blame you for anything.”

“But it’s all my fault. I brought you back into it and endangered you because of it,” she said, lowering her hands from her face; her cheeks glistened and her eyes were bloodshot.

“And this isn’t you. I need the old you, Caroline. The confident, almost-arrogant fighter who could be nice.”

Sniffling, she took the napkin and blew her nose. “For what?” Then before I could begin to explain, she said, “God you look so different. You’re so pale…but still beautiful. What happened to you? And why the hell did it take you so long to let me know you were alive?” There was the Caroline I knew and wanted, needed. I loved how she could change gears so quickly.

Smiling, partially because she was now, I said, “I am different, and that’s a really long story; but I can’t go into any of that right now.”

She nodded. “So long as you tell me sometime.”

“Sure;” I wasn’t certain that was a possibility, but I could discuss the likelihood with Drei.

“God, Abs, I just can’t get over that you’re not dead;” she laughed to herself. I wasn’t sure if she was going into hysterics, really happy, or if she was losing it altogether. I hoped it wasn’t the latter. “What’s with the different name, anyway?”

“Caroline,” I said, sitting forward on my elbows, “it’s my turn to run the show. I’m preparing to start a revolution—more a movement. I want you on my team.”

Her bronze eyes grew large and she seemed to restrain herself from dropping her jaw as well. “Really? I-I mean…I never figured you to be one for something like that.”

“Well, I am. And that’s also the reason behind the name.”

“So I’ll have to call you Leirba from now on?” When I nodded, she smiled and admitted, “I’m still going to call you Abs from time to time. But I’ll try to remember not to in public,” she promised, grinning.

“Will you be on my team?”

I watched as she sat back, wrapping her arms around herself and rubbing them. “Abs—Leirba,” she sighed, shaking her head and looking away. “I don’t know if I can do it. Thinking you died really made me think about things. And I decided I don’t want—oh how do I put this?” She stopped speaking, rubbing her temples as she searched for the answer she was seeking. “I don’t want to be part of that scene if people die because of it.”

“Caroline,” I said, drawing her attention and taking one of her hands in mine. “People will die whether or not they participate. Now, what I have in mind is less incendiary than yours was, and I’m going to do my best to ensure people aren’t hurt. But there’s no guarantee and I won’t promise you that it’ll all be okay, because it might not be.” Her eyes darted away and she hugged herself again. I could relate to her internal conflict, but when I’d been there it was in regards to my own safety. “What I can promise you, is that I will do everything in my power to keep this as safe as possible. I would hate to lose anyone I’m bringing into this.”

“And what about yourself?” she asked, staring at me. “Because I really don’t think I’m strong enough to lose you again.”

Holding both of her hands in mine, I said, “No worries, I’m considerably harder to kill.”

She nodded her head. “I’ll do it. I’ll be on your team.”

“Great;” I couldn’t stop smiling. Caroline was in. That was one of six, possibly seven if I found another fire elemental.

“If you’re going for more of a peaceful approach, you’ll want Ian, I’m guessing;” how did she know me so well? Both of us smiling made it seem like no time had passed, like we were scheming all over again. Only, this time our roles had changed.

Nodding, I added, “And lawyers. Good ones. I don’t have time for legal issues and I’m not doing this quietly. Don’t have time for that either.”

“I have the perfect lawyer,” she said, bobbing her head and pushing her crimson locks behind an ear. “What kind of timeline are we looking at anyway?”

“Two years,” I replied, finishing my chai latte.

“For what? Planning, initiating—”

“Everything.”

Her eyes were huge disks again, this time her jaw hanging open as well. “You’re insane.”

“I didn’t have much choice.” Before we could blow this into an entirely different conversation—one I didn’t feel like having six plus different times—I suggested, “How about we find Ian?”

“He’ll be excited to see you.” Caroline let the timeline topic drop, but her eyes sparkled in such a way as to say she was still going to ask about it. “He’s missed having you around, even though he handled it better than I did.”

Eternal: Chapter Four, Part 1

Chapter Four: Light My Fire

Valetta and Mitchell searched for a few people I had met at the camp whom I knew would be assets to the project if we could find them. I had absolute confidence in their ability. The only restraint I gave them, however, was not to approach them regarding the movement. That was something I needed to do personally.

Drei helped me find the one person locally I knew would be the most difficult to approach. Then, after insisting I adjust to introducing myself as Leirba, he disappeared, claiming he had something he needed to do. I didn’t know what he was doing but I trusted him, so I tried not to let the worry overrun my thoughts.

The day had been overcast but I had arranged a rendezvous after dusk, not wanting to risk frightening my guest with an unanticipated injury. We were meeting at a café. It had been forever since I had had a cinnamon chai latte and I couldn’t help breathing in the scent every few minutes to luxuriate in it; it smelled like heaven.

I had to wait quite a while for her to arrive—granted, I had been extremely early. When she walked through the door, I couldn’t help smiling at her. Her long red hair cascaded over her shoulders. She was wearing her classic skinny jeans paired with rainbow flats to match her tie-dye tee. Fashion aside, she wasn’t how I remembered her; her lips smiled, but sorrow and guilt made her cautious, tentative. Sleepless nights left dark circles under her eyes that showed through her concealer; she looked thinner.

“Caroline,” I called, catching her bronze eyes.

She smiled a little more warmly as she strolled up to the table. Cocking her head to one side and furrowing her brow slightly, she asked, “Have we met before? You look…familiar.”

“I’m Leirba,” I said, shaking her hand.

She gasped and grimaced; “Your hands are freezing.”

Folding my hands in my lap, I nodded my head in the direction of the empty seat. “Please…sit.”

“I’ll just get something—”

“Mocha chai?” I interrupted, motioning to the girl at the counter. I had already ordered and paid for it, but I didn’t want it cold by the time she arrived. The guy working brought her drink over a moment later, smiling flirtatiously at the two of us before returning to work.

After taking a drink, she set her cup down and stared at me a moment. “How’d you know?”

“I have my ways,” I replied cryptically, still holding her gaze as I sipped my own drink. Her brow furrowed in confusion and I could see the allure Mitchell found in puzzling me. True, I hated when I was the one being puzzled, but there was something about a good secret that made riddling another person entertaining.

“I really think I’ve met you somewhere before. I’m almost certain,” she insisted, sitting forward on her elbows. “But it doesn’t make sense because she—she…never mind.” Silence fell between us as she watched her finger run along the rim of her mug.

“She what?” I asked gently. “Died?”

Her bronze eyes shot up at me, surprised but also horrified and hurt. “Yeah;” she studied me carefully as if I were the devil. What I was doing was somewhat evil, I’ll concede, but it probably would have gone a lot worse if I’d come straight out with it from the start—the most likely outcome would be her yelling and storming out, and I couldn’t waste time chasing after her. She needed to arrive at her own conclusion about my identity if I was going to be able to bring her and the others into the fold within the month.

“Are you sure?” I tilted my head to one side, staring at her.

“I was there,” she replied softly, daring me to prove her wrong.

I sauntered to the counter, picking up a napkin on the way there. Using one of their pens, I wrote out Leirba in capital letters and drew an arrow from the A to the L. After thanking the guy at the register, I returned to our table and slid the napkin across its surface so she could read it.

At first, confusion flitted across her face as she tried making sense of it. She even glanced up at me a few times in disbelief. Disbelief and confusion quickly transformed into a bittersweet joy which was tossed aside by grief and guilt, her face disappearing into her hands as silent sobs wracked her body.

“Caroline?” She worried me. I hadn’t any idea she was this shaken by it. No, that’s a lie. I did know. Her entire revolution fell apart because she thought I was dead. Because she blamed herself.

“I’m so sorry, Abs,” she murmured into her hands. “I never meant for any of that to happen; I was trying to prevent anything like that. You weren’t supposed to get hurt. I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”

Laying a hand on her forearm, I said, “You have nothing to be sorry for; you aren’t responsible for what happened.” As I spoke, I worked at untying the knot of sorrow and guilt inside her, pulling the emotions surrounding the event away from her and setting them adrift into the sky; only then was I able to loosen and release the pain of the event. All of it floated through the ceiling in blue and decaying black ribbons; it was almost as beautiful as when I had done the same for Nick upon our first meeting. Of course, then, I hadn’t really known what I was doing. I was just hoping my crazy idea would work.

Vampiric: Chapter Four, Part 4

The problem with being trapped in a white room with hardly anything in it was there was nothing to hide behind when the other occupant started to drive you batty. So I settled for pouting in a corner, my back to her as she started babbling on again about the guy she thought would come for her. There didn’t even appear to be dust in the room, otherwise I probably would have entertained myself with a mini dust devil. So I half listened to her nonsense about a guy with cinnamon hair and deep brown eyes while I tried to imagine what it would be like when Drei burst through the door. I didn’t expect it to be any time soon, but if it happened—

Forcing the doubt out of my mind, I silently cursed her for putting that seed there in the first place and then returned to my images of Drei storming in with guards draped hopelessly over him, trying to stop him. It was melodramatic and ridiculous, yes, but it was better than listening to her tell me it would never happen. Looking at her, it was obvious what happened when you gave up hope in this place.

“…I felt so bad disappearing for all that time and then showing up again with a baby. And that I led him on for hours before taking him to see her; he was so angry; I knew he would be. I hated dropping it like that on him. I hope he’s forgiven me. Charlie never did forget well…”

I turned to look at her then, leaving behind any thought of completely ignoring her. Something in her ramblings was triggering a memory of mine—no, not mine. It was my father’s. The one I had taken all those years ago before leaving him. My mom had left for a year and then she showed back up with me, leaving me in his married hands, trusting him to protect me from ending up in a place like this.

She was older than in the memory, but that was a given. What I didn’t expect was that she had the same build and features. How could it be that the person in my father’s memory, and the woman in front of me, were one in the same. They couldn’t be.

“What’s your name?” I interrupted, praying she would say it was something other than my mom’s.

She gazed at me, smiling softly. “You’re not mad at me for being honest?” she asked, her pale cerulean eyes large and doe-like. “I was really worried about that.” She fidgeted with her fingers, twisting one fingertip between two fingers on the opposite hand.

Her comment made me wonder how long I had been ignoring her, how much I had missed, and how much of it I might have wanted to know.

“What’s your name?”

“What’s yours?” she countered, springing up and darting across to sit in front of me.

“Abriel,” I said, wondering how someone her age could have so much childish energy; especially when I was feeling exhausted. Perhaps it was a side effect of whatever experiments they conducted there.

She clutched my hand excitedly, bubbling about how pretty my name was and how she’d always liked that name. Then she abruptly changed subjects, saying, “My name’s Tyrene, but everyone calls me Ty—I guess I should say used to call me Ty; no one really calls me that anymore—except for the one night guard.”

My mind felt like it overloaded and shut down.  She couldn’t be my mom. This bubbly woman who had looked so worn and defeated to my father the last time he saw her. This person who shared my element, who had given up hope on anything ever changing. She just…couldn’t.

“You look really familiar, do I know you? From before obviously,” she babbled, oblivious to what I was going through.

“I’m—I mean, I think I’m—” The words stuck to the roof of my mouth and I couldn’t seem to pry them loose. Though I had learned to cope with so much that never made any sense, this topped it all. I couldn’t even manage to say it.

“Come to think of it,” she prattled onward, “I named my baby girl Abriel. I don’t know how long ago that was; you kind of lose track. I think the one guard who is really nice to me all the time said my record shows I came years ago; like—”

“Twenty-one?” Part of me prayed she’d say that wasn’t right.

“Yeah!” she screeched, bouncing again before sitting on her feet. “How’d you know?”

“I’m your daughter.” The idea kept being rejected by my brain, even after I said it aloud. It wouldn’t fit; I had thought I’d find her dead, or out doing something, but I never thought I would find her here. Not like this, at least. I had convinced myself, when I thought on it, that she would be serious and plotting; that was so far from the truth.

“Really?” she squealed, her eyes nearly bulging out of her skull and clutching me close. “How’d you get here? I gave you to Charlie so he’d take care of you. You weren’t supposed to end up here at all.”

Nothing I came up with could fully answer her questions. I ended up here by accident. By sheer chance. He did care for me—until everything blew up in my face. And I was still figuring out how to cope with finally meeting the one person who started it all.

Vampiric: Chapter Four, Part 3

“You’re okay,” a soft voice whispered to me. So far, it was the only voice that managed to penetrate the darkness. “Relax; you’re safe.”

My mind tried to hold onto the voice, to keep its comforting words close. The blackness didn’t harm me, but I was terrified of it because it blocked everything else out. All I wanted was to be free of it again. And it seemed everyone but this voice was insistent on keeping me from that.

“Breathe; that’s right. Calm, relax—listen to my voice.” The longer it spoke, the more I began to realize someone was brushing hair off of my face and the air around me was cool on my surprisingly warm skin. A bright light was shining through my eyelids, and the voice became distinctively feminine—motherly, to be more accurate.

“You’re safe,” she cooed again, combing her fingers through my hair.

When my eyes opened, the first thing they saw was her face. She had faded cerulean eyes and dark blond hair mingled with strands of gray. She had a long, somewhat round face, very motherly in appearance, especially with the naturally full pink lips.

Past her visage, I could see the room. This one had white walls, one high, narrow window with a grid of bars over it, and a menacing metal door in the corner. There was what I guessed to be a toilet in one corner and a padded area in another. The air in the room was stifling. It took me a moment to realize the woman had been removing the warmth from the air and circulating a cool breeze around me. Her power might have explained how she had penetrated the darkness.

“Don’t exert yourself,” she said.

“Where am I?” I asked, sitting up, hoping that was the end of the blackness.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said, avoiding the question. “I’ve seen so many earth and water elementals. But never any air elementals; I’ve been so lonely. I’m afraid I may not be the best conversation. It’s been so long; I thought I was going crazy. One of the night guards was nice and stopped to talk with me some times. He saved me from losing it; otherwise they would have put you alone and then you would have ended up like me—”

“Where am I?” I interrupted.

She stared at me, as though it was the stupidest question in the world. How I loathed that expression.

“Sweetie, you’re in a secret government facility,” she said when I didn’t withdraw my question. It sounded absolutely ridiculous, like the sort of thing you’d dare someone to say without cracking a smile. For some reason, it sounded more so because it came from her. “You really didn’t know? I thought you would have known that. Were you somewhere else first; usually they just bring you right here.”

“I was in a black room the last time I woke up,” I said, hoping she might be able to explain where that had been though I doubted it.

“Oh. Then they didn’t know at first.” She thought about this for a moment before continuing on very hurriedly, wearing a bit of a crazed smile on her lips, “Well, you’re here now, anyway. With me. Sorry you didn’t have better luck, but there aren’t many air elementals; and since you’re with me that must be what you are—but, yes, you’ve been abducted by our very own government, sworn to protect and treat all justly and blah blah blah—so much for that. We’ll be here until we die…or they kill us.” The smile disappeared from her lips fleetingly at her last words.

“You’re wrong. Someone is coming for me. When he gets here, you can come with us,” I said before I could stop myself. I wasn’t sure I would want to bring her with, but if I didn’t at least offer, I knew I’d feel guilty for it later.

“Sweetie,” she said again; her voice softened and her head shook almost pityingly. “No one is coming. No one even knows we’re alive—otherwise he would have come for me years ago. I think about him a lot, you know,” she changed the subject suddenly, her face lighting up. “He was married, but we loved each other more than anything in the world. My baby was by him—I don’t know where my baby is—”

“You’re wrong,” I said again, not wanting to believe her or think about how I might end up like her before he arrived. “He’s coming for me; he promised.”

“He’s not coming. Just like he didn’t come for me. Why would he come for you?”

“Not your ‘he’. Mine. And because he loves me.”

“Not coming,” she singsonged evilly, breaking into giggles as though it were humorous.

“You’re wrong,” I seethed, tired of her insanity and doubtfulness—she hadn’t seemed like that at first, giving me hope it wasn’t so bad. I hadn’t been there more than a few minutes and already we were on the wrong foot. Besides, even if her hope was gone, why couldn’t she let me have mine?

Vampiric: Chapter Four, Part 2

It felt like forever before I came out of the darkness again, which, if they had drugged me, would make sense. Someone was talking, but the words weren’t quite registering in my brain. The conversation was about me, and about moving, and was slowly becoming more understandable the more I came out of the blackness.

“She’s dangerous,” a voice said.

“And I said I want proof,” another, gruff voice snapped.

“What kind of proof?” the first again, sounding uncertain and nasally.

Instead of trying to move my entire arm, I tried just my fingers this time, finding they moved quite easily. I slowly tried sitting up, rubbing my eyes in hopes everything would stop being so blurry.

I saw the light glint off the metal before I heard it slice through the air. Shifting the air, I diverted the object, sending it straight into the wall. One of the people had just thrown a knife at me. Though definitely wide-awake now, I found all I could do for a moment was stare in disbelief at the projectile. These people were crazy.

The only thought in my head said to run, but I wasn’t sure I could do that. Standing, I was so shaky, I was sure I’d fall over. I didn’t know where I was, and suddenly that was a very big deal. I didn’t know how long I’d been here, or if Drei had given up looking for me.

Everything around me was becoming more distinct, and I could see I was in a small, black room with one blinding light overhead—which may be why I had thought it was a white room earlier—and a small work area with small lights over a paper-strewn desk. There was a silvery cart in the corner near the two—

One of the men was moving quickly towards me, something in his hand.

“Take it easy,” he said, brandishing a syringe with a needle big enough to scare any sane person.

The air formed a large slab and smashed him into the opposite wall. I wanted to curse the light for not covering more; there didn’t seem to be a door anywhere, but there had to be. There used to be three people in here and I didn’t see any corpses—then again, did I really want to? I spun around, trying to find some telltale sign of an exit: a handle, a break in the black walls, anything. Then there was sharp prick in my neck, a gloating voice, and the spiraling return of the blackness I had nearly escaped.

Vampiric: Chapter Four, Part 1

Chapter Four: A Mother’s Love

I didn’t know where I was or how long I had been there. There was a bright light beyond my eyelids, but that wasn’t often. Sometimes there would be voices, but nothing they said was comprehensible. Not to me, at least, and definitely not in my current state.

At some point during a period of receding blackness, I thought to move my arm, convincing myself it was to prove I was still alive to the voices. My arm was too heavy, though. No matter how I tried to shift and lever my weight, I couldn’t. I came out of the blackness again later and realized the exertion had sent me back; I noted not to try that again.

I didn’t seem able to just wake up, and that terrified me. Who knew how long I had been here, or where I even was. The voices obviously, but they were just voices and I could have been hallucinating.

Then I finally started coming out of the haziness. The blur of voices surrounding me started making sense and the bright light became more distinct. I opened my eyes to a white room, filled with dark figures and the discussion of shots. Someone was saying I needed another one until they found out more about me. Another person argued they’d never know if they kept knocking me out. A third party voted in favor of another shot and performing more tests. What tests had I already been subjected to?

The figure who had suggested another shot moved toward me, a syringe glinting in the bright light.

Without thinking about the consequences, I pulled the air into a boulder shape and rammed it into the person, the syringe twinkling before it shattered somewhere far off. The tinkling sound of glass scattering was the last thing I remembered before the blackness closed in once more.

Elemental: Chapter Four, Part 3

That morning I sat watching the sunrise. I suspected Drei failed to sleep as well, despite his curled appearance. He seemed to know more than I gave him credit for, and it made me question if he ever revered sunrises as he did the moon. In all his years, did he ever find hope in the coming of the new day? Or had he always been content with the loneliness of night?

Over the next week, Drei inquired of my past, though part of me was convinced he already knew much of it. In the midst of this storytelling, I came to realize all of my worthwhile, fun, exciting, revealing stories featured my father spending time with me. Not family time. Just one on one time. Shopping and storytelling, other things along those lines, plus the basics to life: bike riding, reading, writing, first camping trip. By the time I reached things like first dates, he was working more often away from home.

Granted, all of this was against my plan of forgetting everything I was leaving behind. Perhaps Drei thought the good memories would suppress the nightmarish ones.

He would even occasionally comment on his own life when I neared a livid memory or a forgotten woe. His life amazed me. Well, life is too general a term since it was more glimpses and pieces. He spoke most often of his younger twin sisters and protecting them. Each time I questioned what had happened to them, he burrowed away from me, leaving me to wonder what could have gone so terribly wrong.

“We will be there tomorrow around sunrise,” Drei informed me toward the start of our fourth week of travel.

Camp for the night had already been settled and I was on the verge of sleep. The knowledge of being able to sleep on something more comfortable than grass lifted my spirits. We hadn’t seen a small town for several days and the lack of people was starting to take its toll as well. Mostly, I was just weary of traveling.

“Tell me a story, Drei,” I requested, yawning, “about you and your sisters.”

Drei faced me from where he lay, a bemused smile playing across his lips. “You enjoy my stories as much as I enjoy yours.” I laid half-awake, waiting for his words to lull me to sleep.

There was a smile in his voice as he started; “One night, Avery and Ashlyn were running through the halls. They did it often enough, since there were no adults awake to stop them.” He paused momentarily, as if reassuring his grasp on that particular memory. “But it was different. I had not noticed Ashlyn’s hoarse cries until their third passing. It was upsetting; their jaunts were usually filled with laughter and private jokes. To hear her hoarse and pleading, and Avery not at all, was startling for me; so I awaited their next passing outside my room.

“Both stopped in their tracks at the sight of me, as though I were a ghost or some other menacing figure of the night. Ashlyn appeared to hold back tears to keep up a steady chase, but now she burst, wave after wave washing from her eyes. Avery clung protectively to a leather bound volume before releasing it and bursting as well.”

Solemnity filled his voice as he spoke. Whatever had happened to them made this memory hard for him to share; I wondered why he would do so if it hurt him.

“I walked to my sisters, kneeling between them and questioning what had transpired. Avery, it became clear, had taken Ashlyn’s favorite volume of illustrated fairy tales. At my suggestion, we stole away to my room, the book in my custody. Avery and Ashlyn sat on either side of me, our backs to the wall; Avery apologized as her sniffling subsided, but Ashlyn did not want to forgive her; she said just as much. She looked to cry again until Ashlyn climbed over me and fiercely hugged her.

“‘I love you,’ she told Avery.

“I surprised her when I said, ‘Then you forgive her.’ Her natural question was ‘why’, to which my reply was, ‘Because when you love someone, you always forgive them.’ That is what I told them that night, and I still believe it.”

Drei stopped a moment. Despite my weariness, I could feel him debating whether to continue or let that be the end. Whatever he decided would be fine with me. I could already feel myself slipping away.

“After their reconciliation and a few lighthearted laughs at the expense of everyone present,” he continued, his tone brightening, “I read the last story of the volume to my sisters. They were slumped sleepily against me about halfway through. Before they slipped completely off to sleep, Avery said, ‘Thank you,’ and Ashlyn added, ‘We love you, Drei.’”

Hearing the official end of the story, I slipped deeper toward sleep. Just before entering complete unconsciousness, however, I thought I heard Drei whisper, “I will always forgive you, Abriel.” And I couldn’t help but wonder if he didn’t mean something more than that. That perhaps he meant he loved me.

Elemental: Chapter Four, Part 2

The nights blended together in a comforting monotony. Drei seemed shocked I had adjusted so quickly to his sleep pattern. It allowed us to move along more quickly if we were awake at the same times, I had reasoned aloud. The truth was I had nothing to change; I hadn’t been sleeping at night unassisted for a long while.

When we came to cities, we generally used a taxi to cross, giving our bodies a rest from the endless hikes through hilly countryside. We never stayed in town; we just passed through. It might have seemed odd to the cab driver, but Drei knew each one we used. They knew his peculiarities and didn’t ask questions. A few did babble on about families and work when Drei casually prompted. The sound of their voices was pleasant after wordless nights between the two of us. I had a feeling Drei knew their nonsense comforted me. He smiled encouragingly at them in the rear view, commenting just enough to keep that chatter going.

Each morning when we stopped, Drei would disappear for half an hour or so—sometimes longer, sometimes shorter—and reappear with a few bags of camping gear. Sleeping bags, tents, a small camp stove, even non-perishable food and bottled water. It was further evidence he traveled this route often, and it was reassurance I was not his first tag-along. After we'd break camp in the evenings, he would leave for a short while again to return the goods to wherever they had been acquired.

Drei and I rarely spoke to each other. It seemed he always had questions and no way to ask them. I just couldn’t find words to express anything. When you’re numb, what is there to express?

“Why?” he asked at the close of one night as we settled camp.

I gazed at him over my shoulder, surprised at the seemingly random question. “What?”

He winced at my weak, cracked voice. Even I winced. Two weeks of disuse had left my voice scratchy and heinous. I grabbed a bottle of water and tried to clear my throat.

“Why did you change? You do not talk, rarely laugh, and seem more like a corpse than a person.” His pale eyes stared at me expectantly.

“I don’t know what you mean;” I turned away from him, searching for something I could do on the far side of our camp.

Drei walked up behind me, and I felt a hesitancy in his movements; he wanted to impulsively do something but fought against the cons of his actions. Though I prepared myself for an embrace or attack of sorts, none came. I turned to face his stoic form and hurt eyes. A haze of confusion swarmed around him, and now me; I wanted to swat it away or run, but I did neither.

“You do know,” he whispered. “Something changed; you are fragile and sad, silent, and—” His voice cracked, depriving me of the last word.

“And what?” I prompted quietly, feeling depression and ache seep past the wall of numbness. Wrapping my arms around me, I couldn’t stop myself thinking this wasn’t supposed to happen. I induced numbness to avoid feeling anything. I didn’t want to feel this melancholy, this emptiness caused by the loss of things I had come to resent. I may not have wanted them anymore, but they had been mine...

“Broken.” Drei breathed the word heavily, as if close to tears and the thought itself was unbearable for him.

I should have known I couldn’t hide it from him, but I wanted to forget it all, not relive it. Tears pressed at my eyes and breathing was considerably more difficult; my chest felt almost too tight. Drei caught me as I fell into him, an explosion of hyperventilated sobs postponing the conversation.

“Everything will be better,” he murmured into my hair, pulling me closer. His voice lulled from me all the horrors of the days before my departure and left me with a fulfilling sense of closure; my parents and the school were as far away in my mind as they physically were. The comfort I found in his arms and the luscious scent of flowers filling my nose made me feel safe. Combined, they seemed to promise nothing like that would ever happen again. Though I didn’t completely believe it, it helped.

Drei cupped a pale hand beneath my chin and lifted my shining face to his. Something in his amethyst eyes sparkled at me in a way I had never seen before. It frightened and thrilled me instantaneously.

“All better?”

My head shook. On the surface, I felt better about everything that had bothered me; deep down, I knew I was a long ways from a full recovery.

His fingers smoothed back some stray hairs from my ponytail as he smiled that comforting glow of his that made everything else seem petty. “It is a start,” he whispered, grasping some nuance in my weak smile I failed to realize I was relaying. “It is a start.”

Elemental: Chapter Four, Part 1

Chapter Four: Tear Down the Wall

I stood on the bridge where he had dragged me all those months ago, my eyes gazing down into the gentle current of the stream below. My mind was made, and he hopefully wouldn’t attempt changing that.

“What is this?” a familiar voice questioned beside me.

Drei stood, handsome as ever wearing a sweeping black coat over his usual black outfit. His eyes looked to the generic duffel bag lying near my feet. The pale gems then searched my face. “Oh, so you have decided.” There was a note of approval hidden in his tone.

“Perhaps,” I replied, focusing on the scenery ahead, trying to sound jovial.

He walked to my other side, asking, “Your question regards me, does it not?”

“Not just you;” I turned my back on the railing. “All of the vampires involved.”

An eyebrow cocked over his left eye. “Oh really?”

“Yes,” I continued, settling back on my elbows. I had decided I needed this answer for the sake of having it. My decision was made, and nothing could change that, but this answer was merely reassurance I wasn’t becoming lunch. “Why do you help elementals? What’s your motivation for helping people like me?”

He leaned forward on his elbows, lacing his fingers together before him.

Part of me felt natural talking with a man who appeared only a few years older than myself. Yet another part writhed anxiously, feeling insignificant in comparison to the number of years he must have been around and the numerous things he had consequently been witness to.

“We help because we must,” he said quietly, his gaze watching a bird soar past the moon. “We find that some vampires gain clairvoyance with their turning. This foresight tells us of a future that is better, where we can finally coexist. If we can protect the elementals.”

“But why?” I inquired, turning back around, assuming a position similar to his. “We’re weird. Abnormal. Monstrosities, if you will.” Though I had been trying to stay upbeat, I couldn’t fake how I felt about this. Not after what had happened.

“No, you are not.” His eyes caught mine and held them prisoner. “You are leaders. People who will do great things. Earth and water elementals will lead to better technology for a better environment. They will change the way we live. Fire elementals were the leaders of great revolution. They brought out the desire for change in people. They fought and led wars that led society on a path in favor of better interests, despite how destructive they may have been at times.”

“And me?” My voice sounded small, even to my ears.

“Air elementals gather people with their words. They unite masses with visions and speeches. They lead non-violent fights for the betterment of society as a whole. They are also, often times, assassinated, wanted dead, or hidden.” He released me from his spell and stared back at the moon. “As for you, your role in particular, all I may reveal is that you will do great things, but not if you are found by hunters first.”

I nodded before grabbing my duffel. “So let’s go.”

Drei faced me, his expression stony. “It will be difficult, on the way and once we arrive. You will be leaving behind this life,” he said slowly, emphasizing his statement with a sweep of his arm.

“I know,” I assured him. I forced my mind to be numb; I didn’t want his words to penetrate too deeply.

“You might never see your family again.”

“I know that. Now will you stop trying to change my mind already?” I calmly cocked my head to one side and waited.

A glow seized his features, and again I perceived how handsomely gorgeous he was. “I wanted to ensure this is what you wanted.”

“And you thought I’d prefer torture and death?” I managed a wry smirk, trying to come off as light-hearted.

“Not at all;” he smirked. His gaze flashed back to the moon. “Come now, we are losing time before sunlight.”

“That’s right. You can’t be in sunlight;” I was remembering all the folklore on vampires I had looked up when I was younger and more interested in the subject. Not that I wasn’t interested in them anymore.

“Actually, that is myth. We just avoid it because we burn easily.”

“So what’s the hurry?” If he could be in sunlight—even if it is cancerous—why couldn’t we just take our time?

“Sunlight also makes us more visible,” he replied, sweeping past me in long, elegant strides.

I shrugged and followed him off the bridge and into the city. I supposed a runaway was less suspicious than an abduction; the last thing I needed was official news coverage, anyway. I just hoped we wouldn’t walk the entire way. From the sound of it, we would be going a very long distance.