Eternal: Chapter Eight, Part 6

That’s where I stayed. It felt like an eternity that I lay there, my hand slowly bleeding—not fast enough to make a mess, just a slow, almost gelatinous, ooze—the carpet absorbing my tears, and me, suffocating, despite not even having to breathe. And the pain; the wrenching, burning pain clawing at my insides.

“Abriel, we will be late if you do not—,” Drei called as he walked through the door, stopping as he no doubt saw the mess I had created. He had run an errand and promised to be back in time for us to make it to the party.

He sat me upright, propping me against himself and holding me in his strong arms. I still couldn’t stop myself, even with him here. Nothing he said made any sense for a while, it was too soft and I was focused too much on what was happening inside me. When I wasn’t crying so hard, he lifted me and laid me in bed.

“I will be right back,” he promised, wiping the wet hair back from my forehead.

Drei spoke to someone in the other room, probably on the phone to tell them we weren’t coming. Caroline would yell at me for it later and Ian would probably tell her to shove it. Or someone else might. I tried imagining how it would pan out, but the distraction was useless; I rolled over, sobbing and crying again. I was coughing so hard my chest ached.

He was back again, propping me against his chest, rubbing my back until the coughing stopped. Then he cleaned and wrapped my cut hand. At least that’s when I suspected he did it; I didn’t actually know for sure. When he was done with that, he wrapped me in his arms and rocked me back and forth. I wasn’t sure how it was possible there were still tears left in me, but there were more, even if they only came quietly now.

Drei held me at least until I fell asleep. I was still in his arms when I awoke. His eyes were closed and his head bowed over me. I felt exhausted—emotionally and physically. Closing my eyes again, I only wanted to sleep, or try to anyway.

“We should talk first,” Drei said softly. It was strange hearing his voice in the silence, more so because he sounded worn and weary, almost fragile. “What happened?”

I tried to bury my face in his chest, but he turned and lifted my chin with a hooked finger.

“Something is wrong.” Had I not been so exhausted, I wondered if I would have thought that was the stupidest statement ever. Of course, something was wrong. The last time I cried anywhere near that much was when he kicked me out years ago, and, even then, it hadn’t hurt quite this much.

Shaking my head, I attempted pulling away from him. I loved him, but he did this to me. And yet I didn’t want him to feel guilty about it. If I told him, that’s what would happen, but he might be able to help me work through it so I felt better; if I didn’t tell him—I didn’t really want to think about that. None of what was going through my head was making any sense.

Drei wouldn’t let go of me; he wasn’t hurting me, but he wasn’t going to let me escape and avoid this.

“I know you need rest,” he murmured as he lowered his face until his forehead nearly touched mine. “But we need to talk about this, Abriel. What happened?” he repeated, as if I had forgetten the question. I was only trying to avoid answering it after all. “Tell me.”

“No.” Part of me still wanted to pull away from him, but part of me wanted to fall asleep in his arms again. Either way, I knew I didn’t want to answer that question, especially not now. “You don’t want to know.” I buried my head in my hands.

“If you are hurting, Abriel, I want to know.”

“Why? It’ll only hurt you.”

“That means nothing to me. Your health, your wellness means everything to me.”

Glancing up at him, I found his face already contorted in pain, all because I wouldn’t talk to him. That was what I’d been hoping to avoid. “It sucks,” I said lamely, unable to meet his gaze. “I don’t have a reflection.”

His fingers ran through my hair and massaged my scalp, though his unease and worry snaked around me. “I should have told you.”

“It’s why you took down all the mirrors.” I didn’t need him to confirm it because I already knew it was why. He wanted to protect me from that truth, and as I had become considerably with other things—like sating my hunger and the movement—I hadn’t cared. “That’s mostly why.”

“Such a trivial thing?”

“No, Drei. It wasn’t trivial.” He didn’t understand. By the time he went out into the world, he was numb from what he had done. He didn’t notice the world moving on around him, leaving him behind. “It was the last thing I could stand losing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Drei, I’ve been giving up and leaving behind so much. For my element, for my vampire…and it was just building on top of itself. One thing on top of another; something old would come up and add…and when I couldn’t even see what I looked like—couldn’t even prove I still existed—” My voice cracked as a new wave of tears pressed at my eyes. I had hoped my tear ducts were empty.

“I had no idea.”

“I didn’t want you to,” I admitted, sniffing, trying to hold back the tears.

“You do exist, Abriel,” he said, wrapping me tighter in his arms.

“How can I—”

“Because if you ever wonder, I will hold you. I will say anything you want. I will kiss you and do whatever you desire of me. I will stay by your side until you feel better,” he promised, his amethyst eyes pale and serious. “To me, you exist…and because you do, I am happier than I have ever been.”

Wrapping my hands around the back of his neck, I buried my face into his chest—breathing him in and failing to quell the tears now rolling down my cheeks—and this time he didn’t stop me. One of his arms was wrapped around my waist, his other hand lost in my hair.

Eternal: Chapter Eight, Part 5

It turns out, about a week.

Until the day the commercial aired, to be exact. I was told it was a wonderful success, and the party Caroline had thrown for everyone was grand fun. But I didn’t know because I wasn’t there.

While dressing for the party, I wanted to check my appearance in a mirror. I hadn’t thought about mirrors in a while. It seemed strange, that day, I hadn’t looked in a mirror for so long. But then, I hadn’t had a reason to do so. I hadn’t worn makeup since before my turning and I didn’t usually do much with my hair. But I was nervous, and I wanted to ensure I looked okay.

Nick had left an hour earlier because he had promised to help with set up for the party; I would have left with him but I was specifically told I wasn’t to arrive until the party started, and it would be even better if I was fashionably late. Remembering the vanity Drei had bought when we first moved here—that I hardly used—I went into Nick’s room. Sure enough, it was in the corner with a few cologne bottles, hair gel, and some other grooming things of his lined up in front of the mirror.

I could already see the dress in the mirror and knew it looked nice, but that wasn’t my concern. I wanted to know if it looked nice on me. So backing up, I looked again, and the dress was still there…but I wasn’t. I thought it was that I was too far away and my vision was going bad. But when I neared the mirror to just look at my face, it wasn’t there. My earrings were, but not my face.

Immediately falling into denial, I left the room, searching the kitchen for a pot, a bowl, a ladle, anything that was reflective. I pulled open the cabinets, grabbing everything that might have worked, and when I had gone through all of those, I went through the drawers, snatching up cutting knives and teaspoons, even forks. And in all of them, I wasn’t there. It was like I didn’t exist.

I swiped everything off the counter onto the floor, threw the mixing bowls in different directions—the sound of something smashing reached me though I didn’t care enough to know what; I slammed the drawers and cabinet doors, oblivious that they just swung back open with the force. My hands reached into the open cabinets, taking up plates and glasses. I didn’t care what happened to that damned kitchen with all of its reflective dishes and silverware that couldn’t find me; it didn’t matter if I broke a plate here or a glass there. It didn’t bother me I had cut my hand with a knife when I grabbed the wrong end, or that I was crying so hard everything was a blur. None of it mattered.

I didn’t matter.

I wasn’t alive, and that meant I didn’t have a reflection; I wasn’t able to prove to myself I still existed. For all I knew I really was a ghost. I had died back in that hospital room and was so in denial that everyone just told me I was somehow still walking upright and solid.

Stumbling from the kitchen, I couldn’t stop crying. I was crying so hard I felt sick and like I was suffocating. But I couldn’t stop; it wouldn’t stop hurting. I didn’t even know what was hurting. My knees went weak and I collapsed on the carpet.

Eternal: Chapter Eight, Part 4

Later that week, Drei had arranged for us to meet with the Council. The vampire—the one even more stoic than Drei—drove us there. This time, he permitted us roll down the windows so I wasn’t starved when we arrived. About an hour after we left, the air changed from fresh to stale. The window wasn’t down far enough for me to see why, but I figured it partially explained why the area around the house had seemed archaic.

We were told to wait in the same dusty room while the Council assembled. This time, however, instead of their courtroom equivalent, we were brought into a more office-like space. There was one large desk, at which the head of the Council was seated. Then there was a table to either side with a total of seven chairs. Tudor, the vampire who had sat under the presiding head, sat immediately to the right of the desk on the table of four. Strangely enough, they all appeared to be dressed casually and each had a mug of warm blood on the table before them.

“You may deliver the update, Mr. Valmoritim,” Tudor announced in a lighter voice than he had used the last time we’d met.

I handed Drei the papers and he passed them to Tudor, who offered them to the head vampire. He leafed through them as Drei returned to my side. We waited for him to stop, because I knew he would. The commercials were cryptic. Just because the site, currently, was set up to reveal the nature of elementals didn’t mean it couldn’t be altered to reveal the existence of other hiding groups. We knew he would recognize this, and that’s when I had to talk them into patience.

“Tudor, what is your opinion of these?” There was the edge to his voice; the tell-tale sign he was displeased. Until they brought it up, I had decided to play dumb—and resist admitting how much I loathed these games.

“I believe these are too general,” Tudor stated, his brow furrowed, wrinkling his crown even more than it already was. “Do you realize, Miss Jones, these could lead to the discovery of every hiding organization?”

“I realize it may seem that way,” I replied, meeting his gaze, despite how difficult it was to look into those black orbs. “But let me assure you, they will all remain hidden.”

“For how long?” Tudor asked calmly, the edge in his voice as well.

“So long as they choose. This has nothing to do with them;” I folded my hands in front of me. “I can swear to you that this is a movement centering around the civil rights of elementals and exposing the corruption of the current government. What do vampires and other such groups have to do with that?”

There was a lot of nodding and murmuring along the table before Tudor spoke again. “You are responsible for informing the other organizations of this. We will not interfere with the current goings-on.”

“Thank you,” I said, bowing my head to them. That was easier than I had expected.

“Miss Jones,” the presiding vampire called, staring intently at me. I met his gaze. Maybe I had spoken too soon. “Should we feel endangered by your movement, we will end it.”

“I understand.”

“Dismissed,” Tudor granted.

In the hallway, Drei hugged me, kissing the top of my head.

“You amaze me,” he whispered, holding me a second longer before letting go.

I waved it off. “That was easy compared to some of this.” Mentally, I reminded myself to start Valetta and Mitchell on speaking with the other groups’ leaders about their privacy and secrecy. I wasn’t keen on being summoned to meet with werewolves or fairies and the like.

“But that is the last obstacle, Abriel,” he said, his fingertips brushing my cheek as he tucked hair behind my ear. “The commercial will air in a week, and we will be three weeks ahead of schedule.”

“It’s a good start. But we still have a middle and an end to go.”

He looked ready to say something more before our escort led us downstairs to the car. I wished I knew what he had been about to say. I had a feeling it had something to do with enjoying the moment. Not live in the moment—since living wasn’t something we could technically do—but enjoy the moment.

Perhaps it was a strange thought to have; they seemed more frequent, though I couldn’t tell if they made me feel bitter or grieved. I tried not to think on it too much. Sure, it wasn’t healthy to hold it inside, but I needed to be calm and collected; I was in charge and needed to appear as such.

But how long could that last?

Eternal: Chapter Eight, Part 3

Justin was the one who met me in the lobby shortly after I arrived for our meeting. Angeline, he said, was saving a conference room. As we walked, he kept flashing me smiles as if that made up for something wrong. From where I was standing, there was nothing wrong. The smiles were flattering; I could see why she might like him, though I could also see how his confidence could be annoying.

The conference room was all windows on two walls, 30 stories up, and had an oblong table in the center surrounded by cushioned chairs. Angeline was standing at the window when we entered, enjoying the view of downtown; at this height, you could barely hear the traffic below.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, Miss Jones,” Angeline said with a strained smile. “You’re looking wonderful, though you could stand to use some sun.”

That must have been why Caroline liked her. “It’s a medical condition,” I lied, smiling. There was nothing wrong with the woman; she was pretty much just like Caroline, even if it didn’t make her the most eloquent or flattering of people. “And please, call me Leirba.”

It was still strange giving people a name that wasn’t technically mine; all the practice in my spare time helped, though.

“Shall we sit?” Justin asked, pulling a seat out for me. I took the seat, on the corner of the table. He helped Angeline sit, as well, before sitting across from me.

“So what is the goal of your revolution?” Angeline asked, sitting back in her chair.

Passing them each an overview sheet, I summarized, “The goal is to reveal the corruption of our government through the oppression and mistreatment of elementals—citizens who are gifted with the ability to manipulate a certain primary element.” When I said elementals, Justin tensed and his brows knit; a second later he had regained a neutral composure. “In the process, the current government may be completely removed, but that remains to be seen. For sure we’re aiming for exposure and liberation, our rights as people and citizens.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Justin asked after a moment. A bead of sweat creeped down his right temple.

Justin’s response didn’t worry me as Kora had already reacted similarly; Angeline was different, though. She stared, her lips pursed and eyes widened in disbelief, and a single thought scrolled continuously through her mind.

“It’s already in the works,” I answered, flipping to the front of my binder and pulling out the disks. “One of the disks is the rough draft of the commercials we’re putting together.”

“Commercials?” Angeline asked, one of her eyebrows arching high.

“To intrigue viewers into visiting the website, which the content for is on the other disk if you wanted to look over that; in that case is also a paper with the information needed to view the developing website. It’s mostly set up already and it explains our cause.”

“People won’t believe it’s real,” Justin said, staring at the CDs on the table before him.

“That’s where we disagree,” I politely said, sitting forward. I knew this was going to be an uphill battle; the whole two years were going to be an uphill battle. So far I was doing pretty good, but I wasn’t sure how long I was going to be able to last at this rate. “I think most people want to believe there’s some magic left in the world. It’s why people are interested in Wicca, even if they won’t ever practice it. Why supernatural books sell and movies are made. Deep down, we all want to believe there’s some kind of magic left in the world, that miracles can still happen.”

He stared at me and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. After neither of them said anything, I stood. Right now, it didn’t matter if they believed me. All they had to do was keep my movement from sinking due to legal issues.

“Just do your job.”

I was halfway down the hall before Justin stopped me. He instructed me to follow and then led me past the elevators and into what I presumed to be his office. Once there, he closed the blinds on all of the windows and locked the door.

“Why do you want to do this?” he asked, sitting on the black leather couch he had in the corner.

Still standing, I said, “Because it has to be done.”

“Exposing all of us is the only way?”

Ian’s instinct about the past was seeming more right by the second; given the opposition I was coming against, it seemed easy to believe everyone else who had tried before had been stopped by someone else; discouraged by someone telling them it was wrong. But no one could convince me what I was doing was wrong. Not because it wasn’t frightening to think how others might handle the news, but because there was a greater wrong happening that needed to stop. We weren’t weapons; we were people, and we deserved the right to live our lives.

“If you expose yourself, it’s your own thing. But people have to know we exist. If they don’t, we can’t stop what’s happening.” It struck me suddenly that he might not have known what was happening to us, how oppressed we were. “You do know about that, right?”

“Of course, I know. We all know.” He bowed his head, rubbing his temples.

“So, wild guess, fire?”

“Yeah. I’m guessing you’re air.”

Nodding, I sat down next to him. “I’m not forcing anyone to admit anything they don’t want to. I have given everyone on my team a choice, and any of them are allowed to back out when they feel it’s too much. You’re only association with us will be as a lawyer,” I said, feeling a need to comfort him. “It’s completely up to you if people learn otherwise.”

Justin sighed and looked at me. “Okay.”

“I need to be going now.”

He unlocked the door and walked me to the elevator. I hoped he would be okay; part of me also hoped he would choose to reveal himself as an elemental and truly accept himself.

Eternal: Chapter Eight, Part 2

“Can I get you anything?” I asked, breaking the silence.

“No, thank you.” After another moment, she asked, “What are your plans for today?”

“I’m meeting with the lawyers and explaining what we’re doing with the movement, also giving them what we have so far since it seems we’re mostly done anyway. That way they can look over it and make sure there’s nothing illegal…yet.”

“Yet?” One of her eyebrows arched.

“We are taking down the government,” I reminded her good-naturedly. “That isn’t exactly legal.”

“What is anymore?” Nick inquired, walking through the door and surprising us both. I hadn’t expected him for another hour. “Here’s what you asked for,” he added, handing me two writeable disks. “The information for accessing the website is in with that disk.” He pointed at the bottom disk.

“Thank you.” Opening my binder, I slipped the disks into the front pocket. “Valetta, if I had another set of disks made, would that be okay or would it be better to print the site layout and frames of the commercial?”

“Printed would be better;” she sat forward on her elbows, resting her chin on her interlocked fingers. “Technology doesn’t tend to work there.”

“This is what you asked for,” Nick said, gesturing sharply to the binder, his brow furrowed.

“No, this is perfect, Nick,” I said, turning toward him. “I need another set. This time a printout of the site layout, no coding, and a storyboard using frames of the commercial.”

“What for?”

“We have…stakeholders.”

“Who?”

I looked at Valetta and she gave me an almost imperceptible shake of her head. “I can’t say.”

“Okay…” His brow knitted in confusion, and his eyes were tinged with sadness. “You’re going to tell me sometime, right?”

“Of course,” I said, smiling, though I was unsure I’d ever be able to tell him.

He smiled—that beautiful crooked smile—and I felt my stomach twist in guilt.

Nick went to his room for whatever reason and then left again, probably to start the others on my latest request. Since Nick had come to stay with us, I sometimes wondered what my life would have been like if I had been with him. Granted, that meant not having Drei, but would things have been less complicated? Probably not, though it didn’t stop the question from arising.

“He can never know,” she whispered.

“I know,” I said, still staring at the door. “But I don’t think I could ever admit that to him.”

Eternal: Chapter Eight, Part 1

Chapter Eight: Concerned Bystanders

A few weeks later, Valetta stopped by with a letter from the Council. It wasn’t necessarily bad news, but I had been hoping not to hear from them for a while longer. The letter requested frequent updates on our progress, with a lot more flourish and many more words.

“Very well, then, I’ll have everyone make an extra copy of what we’ve done so far. Did you want to keep it?” I asked, offering her the letter.

“You may.” She crossed her arms loosely. “You do not appear worried about this.”

“Because I’m not,” I said, going to find my binder. “I figured they would do this, and even if it hadn’t been updates, they would’ve had concerns after the first commercial aired. It’s why you and Mitchell are ambassadors.”

“We have no leverage with the Council, Abriel,” Valetta reminded me stiffly. “You are the only one we know who has any.”

“I didn’t say ambassadors to the Council, Valetta;” I filed the letter in one of the folders. “I’ll deal with them personally.”

“Then we are ambassadors to no one?”

I turned to face her, leaning against the counter. “I’m guessing that if there is a Council to govern vampires, there should be a similar institution for other…I don’t know what they—we, go by collectively…mystical beings, I guess.”

 “How do you know about the others?” she asked slowly, leveling her eyes at me.

“Did you really think I couldn’t guess?” When she shrugged, I walked around to the kitchen, taking inventory of everything Nick had been eating so I could restock for him. Drei and I ate occasionally, but it wasn’t really required for either of us. He needed blood and I needed to be outside. I could guess what Nick liked best by figuring out what was disappearing; to my knowledge, he hadn’t figured out I wasn’t eating.

“Once I actually started thinking about this—and it wasn’t that long ago, just about the time you and Mitchell showed up—I figured if vampires existed in hiding, reason suggested other groups did as well. And since I purposely chose the first few commercials to be more on the vague side to make people want to go to the website, I realized it might put the Council a little on edge, as well as the other groups.” I finished assessing the cupboards and moved to the fridge. “Thus, since you and Mitchell have been around a while and would actually know about the groups, I decided you two would be perfect to go around and calm them, assure them all it’s not about them. Voilà, ambassadors.” Finished with the shopping list, I turned to Valetta and asked, “So was I right? Or should I not have bothered?”

Taking a seat at the breakfast bar, she admitted, “I did not anticipate you arriving at these conclusions.” After a moment, she added, “Drei knows more about the other groups than Mitchell and I do. Why not him?”

I remembered I hadn’t yet spoken to Drei about that, about why he was with me and not in some other, more definite role; I needed to do that. “He’d be a great ambassador,” I conceded slowly, taking the seat next to her. “Part of the reason is because I think it’s usually a good thing for people to work in pairs, and you and Mitchell make a great pair. You balance each other and it’s…great.”

“But that is not why.”

Her dark eyes were scanning me, and I felt extremely conscious of everything she was doing, of everything I was doing. I looked away from her, my gaze boring holes into my intertwined hands before me. “I need him, still,” I whispered, knowing how conceited I must have sounded.

Nodding, she laid a pale hand on mine, and I realized for the first time how ghostly I must look to the others, how pale I had become. My skin tone nearly matched hers. “Of course, you do,” she said kindly, squeezing my hand a little. “This is still new…”

She was biting her tongue. Valetta and Mitchell had been working hard on not discussing what Drei had done; the few times they said anything on the topic, it always sounded like an accusation, as though they had been betrayed by him. It was topic they avoided for the sake of not arguing around or about me; while I was grateful, it also felt like I couldn’t raise questions with the only people who had answers.

Vampiric: Chapter Eight, Part 7

The next night was my first night as secretary during a broadcast. Drei was there, but as Caroline had said earlier, he was the biggest guy she had. She needed him as much as she claimed to need me. I purposely waited until last to brief the bodyguards for the night. Some people even commented on the orderliness of their briefing sheet. Though I smiled and made small talk, I couldn’t help wondering if I could keep a rein on myself tonight.

It wasn’t long before Drei was the only one I hadn’t addressed. Breathing in deeply, I made my way over to him.

“You’re just outside the broadcasting room tonight,” I said, focusing on my clipboard. I handed over his briefing page and waited a moment.

“Very well,” he replied, his voice cold, but not as scathing as it had been.

I wanted so much in that moment to tell him I still loved him. But I didn’t. Instead, I walked back to the office to let Caroline know everyone was set, we could go any time.

“Great,” she said, pulling her hair back in a severe bun. “Oh, do you need anything?” she asked before I could turn to leave. “Are you okay? Nothing happened, right?”

I smiled at her—weak as it was, it was the best I could muster. “It’s all business, right?”

“It should be—on these nights, anyway;” she watched me carefully, unsure whether to make heads or tails of my current emotionality.

“Then I’ll be fine.” As we left the office together, I said, “If you ask me tomorrow, you might get a different answer. Just so you know.”

She laughed, saying, “I’ll have to remember that.”

What I didn’t tell her was while it didn’t hurt to talk to him, it hurt to think about what his reaction to anything I said about us would be. At least that took precedence over what hurt more—which was having to keep anything I wanted to say to him a secret.

Vampiric: Chapter Eight, Part 6

The night before the broadcast, Caroline, Ian, and I were hanging out at the office, talking. More, they were talking about when they grew up together and I was listening, joining in when something hilarious arose. It was sometime between the story of him trying to kiss her (and was slapped across the face) and Ian revealing her fiery college breakups—one of which actually involved fire—she asked, “Abs, is there anything you’ve wanted to do since—you know?”

I thought about it a moment. The only thing I could think of was what I had done in the past when things were so unbelievably screwed up it felt like I had no other choice. “Run away.”

She tapped her chin, thinking. “Well, I can’t condone running away, but I know somewhere you can drive really fast, if that helps anything.” Before I could say anything, she said, “Give it some thought. We’ll chat some more for now.”

That was when Ian cut in with the story of Caroline’s worst break up. According to him, she was so pissed about it, she nearly burned down the dorm. Of course she denied it was ever that serious, but he just kept nodding. So as payback, she spilled about his thirteen totaled vehicles—in the same year—though he insisted it was only eight. More stories followed with more disagreements on how true each was. It was entertaining to say the least, keeping a smile on my lips as I listened.

At the end of the night, Ian asked, “You sure you don’t want me to take her?”

“I’m sure.” Facing me, she said, “I’ll drive down there, but then it’s all you.”

“Where are we going?” I asked, glancing from one to the other.

“She’s taking you to the old highway,” Ian offered. “It’s not really used anymore, but it’s not in half bad condition.”

“And the cops aren’t usually over there, either. So the speed limit is whatever you want it to be.”

“I don’t know—”

“You wanted to run away?” Caroline held my gaze in such a way that threatened to pummel me if I wasn’t honest.

“Yes.”

“This is as close to it as I can condone,” she said, dragging me toward a Mercedes Benz. “So don’t say you don’t know or thank you or any of that crap until after you’ve driven. It’ll either help you or do nothing.”

With that, she sped away through town, turning the radio up as if anticipating complaints. I wasn’t going to try complaining, though. After how I had acted whenever she was doing something I didn’t want her to—even if it was for my benefit—it was reasonable she’d expect some kind of resistance.

Caroline didn’t pull over until we’d been heading down a dark road for a few minutes.

“Your turn;” she climbed out and half-jogged to the passenger side.

She watched as I buckled in and figured out where everything was. It was strange how desolate it was out here, especially because the city wasn’t that far away. Another strange thing was that I hadn’t driven in as long as I hadn’t had a purse.

I accelerated until I was at 60 miles an hour, figuring driving was kind of like riding a bike. “Faster,” she instructed and I obeyed, the fleeting feeling of danger filling my chest, quickly replaced by thrill.

The faster I went, the more I thought about what I was doing. Was I really trying to get away from him? I wanted to run, but what was I running from? Or was that all together the wrong question? Inside, it felt like I wasn’t running away, but running towards something. There wasn’t anything to run from, when I thought about it. If I wanted to fix anything, all of that was behind me, along with the only support system I had anymore.

What if I was running towards him? The version of him in my dreams, who loved me still? That reminded me of Mom and if I was running towards what I was supposed to do. Or Dad and what I had left behind all those years ago.

And then I had to ask myself if I even wanted any of that. When I had left, I left because I was alone and scarred by classmates. What I was supposed to do, what did that have to do with anything? Everyone had been talking about it for so long I believed it was important. But what use was it if I didn’t have anything left for myself afterwards? And did I really want him to love me again? Did I? After I had done everything he had ever asked of me and he kicked me to the curb as if I was just some beggar who was bothering him? Was that the kind of person I wanted in my life? Nick may have lied to me, but he would have listened. But how could I be sure about that even? I had thought Drei would have listened, but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t even look at me; he didn’t even treat me like a person.

“Abriel!” Caroline was shouting beside me, breaking through my racing thoughts. Glancing at the speedometer, I couldn’t even tell how fast I was going. Everything was blurry, even the road in front of me. My cheeks were flaming and wet. “Pull over,” she said, rapidly hitting the dash with an open palm.

Hitting the brakes, I tried to stop the tears that were already overwhelming me. The moment the car was stopped, Caroline reached over and turned off the ignition as I struggled free from my seatbelt and jumped out of the car, needing air. Needing answers. In need of something I couldn’t have.

“Abs,” she called after me, but my feet just kept moving, stumbling along beneath me. It didn’t matter where anymore. The tears were too thick for me to see anything. “Abs—Abriel, stop,” she begged, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me to a standstill. I turned into her embrace and cried onto her shoulder. Rubbing my back, she whispered, “It’s all right. It’ll be all right.”

She didn’t ask, but later I would sit down with her and explain. It was the first time she didn’t press for answers about what was wrong, and it would be the first time I would really tell her anything. What I said was “I love him more than anything in the world, but loving him isn’t what’s hurting me. Wanting him back in my life is what’s hurting me. So, I’ve decided, no matter how much I want him to love me again, I can’t have someone in my life who can hurt me that much.”

Caroline reached across the table and squeezed my hand, wiping a tear from my cheek. “Then I’ll support you,” she said, her voice soft and comforting.

“Thank you,” I whispered, feeling the few tears I had left in me tumble down my cheeks. Despite being the cause of my problems, she gave me something I had been missing, regardless how many times I pushed her away. She gave me a friend.

Vampiric: Chapter Eight, Part 5

Despite Ian sleeping in the living room, and my promise to Caroline to stay healthy, I still couldn’t sleep. I honestly did try. The first couple of days after our conversation, I would lie down and close my eyes, wanting sleep to come. But it didn’t. At least not without Drei. And though I didn’t mind seeing him in my thoughts—not dreams since I wasn’t sleeping—I couldn’t stand to see him the way he appeared: furious and uninterested. I always opened my eyes before he started shouting at me about lying.

Instead, I used Ian’s presence as an excuse to experiment more. The first was a staircase of air down to the rooftop garden. I had used air to move objects, and even force people away, so solidity wasn’t a problem. What I wanted to see is if I was capable of concentrating while moving. The only problem I really had was that the staircase had to wrap around the enclosure to be tall enough to reach from my window to the garden three stories down. Though this did take a lot more concentration to hold it together, I worked with it for a few nights until I almost completely lost focus and fell a story.

In an attempt to make the trip shorter, I tried an elevator like form. Walking onto a platform of air, I would move it downward until I could step off. I used that mostly, though there was something else I was curious to try. Part of me was certain it wouldn’t work, though that didn’t stop me from wanting to try sometime. It just wouldn’t be soon.

Once in the garden, I would sit there, noticing how it didn’t quite smell like him. There weren’t enough kinds of flowers, nor were they in the right proportions. Nothing could compare to that scent. It was strange how he hadn’t been near his garden in years, but the odor was stained into his skin; it defined him. I wondered if I was the only one who smelled it or not, and if that was just memory or if he really did still radiate that luscious scent.

When I worked up the courage, I would also go down to the park and walk around, occasionally finding a grove or some enclosure to lie down in. Often times I would close my eyes and imagine he was beside me. That he wasn’t angry and he still loved me. It was those times I fell asleep and finally dreamed that something was right in my life. I would dream when I woke up, I was really just falling asleep to a nightmare.

The nights when I did sleep, I would wake sometime after sunrise and return to the apartment. Both Caroline and Ian were gone by then, so I would change and take a cab to work.

“What were you doing?” Caroline asked the first time it had happened.

“Sleeping.”

“Seriously?” She leveled her gaze at me, a slight threat behind her bronze eyes.

“Really.” She left it at that and didn’t ask again, content I was at least trying to comply with her request.

It wasn’t long until I finished re-filing everything in her office. I quickly became accustomed to her calling me in to explain where something was. We were all three extremely busy over those two weeks prepping for the next broadcast. Usually we had a month or so in between, but to set one up in half the time ended up being a lot more work than expected. Caroline even hired more help for between the broadcasts—granted it was only two more people who only knew their job.

She had me helping her research more information for her next speech. It was a pleasant distraction from the nightmare. We would sit up in her office sharing strange and bizarre bits of information that wound its way into our research. Occasionally, we even shared a laugh and would then pull Ian upstairs to join us.

It was weird to laugh again. There was still a hole where my heart had been, and I was still hurting, but by some miracle, I could laugh. Maybe it was a sign that I was reaching that point where it would stop hurting as much. I could hope, right?

Vampiric: Chapter Eight, Part 4

“You’re up,” Caroline said, pulling open the curtains to let a flood of sunlight in.

Shielding my eyes, I realized I was in her apartment. But that didn’t make sense. The day after the broadcast, I went to work as usual, and the last thing I remembered was trying to locate the pile of applications. “What happened?” I asked, sitting up.

“You tell me;” she sat at the foot of the bed, crossing her legs and interlacing her fingers; the tips of her fingers turned white. Her hair was thrown up into a sloppy bun and she didn’t appear to be wearing makeup.

Why did my head hurt? It had hurt since before I sat up, but I couldn’t figure out why. I wasn’t particularly susceptible to headaches. “I don’t know…the last thing I remember was working.”

“That’s the last thing you were doing—before you passed out.” She pressed her lips into a thin line.

“What?” How was that possible? I hadn’t even been tired…not that I remembered anyway. Though, if I had hit my head, that would explain the headache.

“When was the last time you slept, Abs?” Caroline asked.

Looking away, mentally preparing for whatever yell-fest my answer brought, I muttered, “I don’t remember.”

“Don’t mutter now,” she said sternly, her voice laced with the anger she was keeping at bay. “You’ve never had a problem speaking to me before, don’t you dare start now, Abs.”

“I don’t remember. Probably before—” His name stuck in my throat and I couldn’t force it out. It felt like if I did, I would start falling apart again. “Before I came here.”

“Jesus, Abs,” Caroline whispered, her visage falling. She reached a hand to her face, a finger resting across the bridge of her nose and her thumb on her left temple. “Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t sleep? I have sleeping pills and stuff; I used to have bouts of insomnia;” her body was tense with the effort required to restrain her anger. Caroline stood, beginning to pace along the foot of the bed. “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t, okay?” I said, wishing she would just leave it alone. I had screwed up, great. We both knew it. Could we move onto item two of her agenda?

“What were you doing instead of sleeping?” She stopped her pacing to stare at me, hands on her hips. Some of her hair had fallen out of her messy bun and she batted it over her shoulder.

“I went to the park mostly, to walk around,” I said, avoiding her gaze, hoping she would get a clue and leave. Seriously, it wasn’t like I had starved myself. I avoided thinking how I wouldn’t have been able to make even that claim if she hadn’t ensured I ate on a semi-regular basis.

“Why?”

“I don’t know;” I shrugged. “When I got there, it felt like I was trying to find something.”

“Something or someone?”

I ignored the question; I didn’t know the answer anyway. When I didn’t say anything, she prompted, “What did you find, then?”

“The moon;” I met her bronze eyes for the first time that morning.

“The moon?” Her tone revealed her skepticism even as she struggled to keep her face neutral. I didn’t expect her to understand, and I wasn’t up to explaining. It was too complicated and involved too much that she wouldn’t—didn’t understand. Nothing I said could change that, just like nothing I said could make him listen.

Sitting at the foot of the bed again, she took my hands in each of hers. When I met her gaze again, the copper disks seemed to burn into me, trying to understand me while attempting to make me see reason.

“Abs, you need to sleep at night,” she said slowly as if speaking to a child about monsters in the closet. “You’re my secretary, and my friend, and I need you to be healthy. I can’t have you passing out for days on end—you’ve been out about two days if you were curious.” I hated how everyone thought I was curious about how long I passed out at one time. “So to stop you from sneaking out, I’m going to ask Ian to stay over the next couple of weeks. He’s a light sleeper, so don’t even try to leave. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now go back to sleep. I want you in top shape tomorrow and back to work. We have a broadcast in a couple weeks and I need my office back.” She smiled at that, as though teasing. I found it chellenging to smile back.

“No worries, Abs. I’ll have you smiling again in no time,” she said, squeezing my hand.

“Will it ever stop hurting?” I asked, tearing my gaze and hands away from hers. It was a question I had been tossing around for a long while. I wanted—no, needed—to know the answer. Every time I let myself try to sort through it, attempt coming to terms with everything that had happened, it was unbearably painful and I had to stop. I had to find some distraction, like work or lies.

“Will what stop hurting?” Her smile faded in her confusion. Then her features brightened and I knew she realized what it was I was asking. She hugged me but she didn’t otherwise respond.

“Will it?” I repeated, needing the answer. Now that it was in the open, it felt like I could function somewhat normally someday if I had the answer. If it was the answer I wanted to believe but didn’t seem able to.

Caroline replied, “You can only hope it will.”

So hope was the answer. It didn’t seem very promising, but it was better than being told no. Thinking back on those days, that year in general, hope was all I had—despite being in amazingly short supply. The future seemed a touch brighter so long as I was clinging to hope.

Vampiric: Chapter Eight, Part 3

The night of the broadcast, Caroline took Ian and me out to a restaurant for dinner, her way of ensuring I was going to eat something. She may not have noticed my sleeplessness, but she had noticed my eating habits. They discussed if everything had been triple checked and if there were enough cars to carry everyone. According to all the files I had looked over the past weeks, the group had expanded considerably—at least quadruple the size it had been at the first broadcast; we were large enough to be seen as a real force of reckoning.

We were back at headquarters before most had arrived, but a few people were milling about anxiously. Caroline reminded me I could work up in the office some more if I wanted, but Ian would fill in for me tonight. She didn’t believe I was emotionally ready for the task.

As I walked toward the stairs to the office, I noticed Drei standing in the shadows, hands buried in his pockets. Before I knew what I was doing, I was in front of him, feeling something for a change. Feeling anything was frightening and a relief.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, trying to keep the sudden press of tears at bay. “But nothing happened. I should have talked to you about it sooner, but I swear it’s not what you think.”

He looked over my head and then to the left as though scanning the thin collection of early birds.

“Listen to me,” I cried, forcing him to face me even if I couldn’t force him to see me, to acknowledge me. “You’re wrong, Drei. Okay? For once, you’re wrong.”

“I am not mistaken,” he said icily, refusing to meet my gaze.

A burst of air pinned him against the wall, and I was there, standing inches from him. Anger and hurt raced through my veins and logical thought failed me. I wasn’t even sure what I was doing, or planning to do. “You are. Just listen to me, will you?”

“There is nothing for me to hear.” He turned his face away from me.

“That’s not true!” I shouted, wanting to make him listen. He had looked at me when I started to assert myself, maybe he’d listen if I did something else. If I didn’t give him any other choice, I could force him to face me…see me…hear me. Maybe even believe me. Instead of just being stuck in his own head and his own pool of pity, too blind to see the damage he was causing.

Caroline interrupted, stepping between us and forcing me away from him.

“Just let it go, Abs. Let it go; it’s easier;” she ducked her head around to try blocking my view of him.

I fought to move around her, to close the gap she was creating, but it was half-hearted at best; I didn’t want to hurt her. “He needs to listen to me,” I cried, tears searing my cheeks.

“No, Abs. He doesn’t want to and you can’t force him,” she said sternly. “All you can do is leave him alone.”

“But I can’t,” I argued, wishing she’d go away. I didn’t need her to tell me what I was doing; I could figure that out for myself if I really wanted to. With the tears, though, the anger was draining quickly and, with it, the last of my energy.

She led me up to her office, sitting me down in the chair and squatting before me; she wrapped her hands around mine. “Work, if that’s what helps,” she ordered. She bit her inside cheek as if holding back some other choice comments. I guess she figured one of us had to rational and that wasn’t going to be me. “Trying to change him isn’t going to do anything except hurt you more.”

I tried to tell myself she didn’t know what she was talking about, but she was right. I had been fine feeling nothing, and now I felt like I was just in a new mess altogether. So nodding, I quietly said, “I won’t leave the office until you’re all gone.”

“Good,” she said, relief washing from her. “This is in your best interest, Abs. I’m not trying to be a bully, you know.”

“I know.” I wasn’t able to meet her gaze. I would have told her it was hard, start to let her help me a little, but I couldn’t. It seemed every time I let someone in, something went wrong. They either left me or told me to leave them, always after they hurt me.

Despite my earlier intention of doing some more sorting, I couldn’t bring myself to move from the chair. For a while I just stared at the stacks of paper everywhere, trying to figure out why I had approached him. What had I expected to happen? When I didn’t find an answer to that, I listened to the pre-show jitters downstairs, letting their words drown out my thoughts. It was easier than actually thinking. Thinking was dangerous for me. Who knew what I would do? I certainly didn’t.

After the cars all drove into the distance, I left the office, deciding to walk back to the apartment. The cool night air calmed me a little, and the hidden stars seemed to twinkle louder than usual, as if trying to comfort me; the moon watched, and I let her. When she felt the time was right, she would do something, I guessed. So I questioned how long that would be. How long until I could hold him again and know he loved me?

Vampiric: Chapter Eight, Part 2

Caroline offered to give me a week or so off from work, but I knew there was still so much to get done before the broadcast. So when she refused to drive me—not that I complained—I hailed a cab most of the way and walked the rest. I needed to do something to occupy my mind and time; I would go insane from the unanswered questions and instant replay if I didn’t.

To say she was livid when I showed up would be hugely inaccurate. She was way past that. I could tell by the fireball that was hurled towards me, barely missing my head. That, and the storm of yelling that followed, summing up to basically question why I was so hardheaded. When she shushed long enough for me to say anything, I simply told her, “I need this.” I could only hope she would understand how painful it was sitting in her apartment alone.

“Fine;” her arms, previously crossed over her chest, dropped to her sides. “But I’m not giving you any work.” Turning to Ian, who stood behind her, watching the goings-on with a mixture of confusion and interest, she said, “And you won’t either.”

“Then I’ll find something.” She nodded and began listing things they still needed to do before Saturday night as Ian followed her to another area of the building.

Left to my own devices, I made my way into her office, a project already in mind. When I’d had to file the charts I redid, I remembered thinking her cabinets were a mess and it was a miracle she could find anything. The chaos probably stemmed back to Conan; I doubted he was much concerned with keeping her organized.

So I set to work, pulling all of the files, emptying the folders, and re-sorting the papers into stacks around the room. At one point, I decided I should start stuffing folders again, so I went out to buy a few multi-color packs to help further organize everything.

The project took up my time during the day. Trying to determine where everything belonged was all that mattered. I wasn’t hungry so I often skipped meals without trying. Caroline stopped in occasionally during the week with food and sat down, telling me I had to eat something. I would eat some of it while listening to her talk about what was happening and ask if I needed anything. Every time my answer was the same: no. I was fine. Don’t worry about me. But I knew the more I said it, the less she believed it.

After the first day, she gave me rides there and back, her reasoning being she couldn’t stop me, so she might as well save me the cab fare. The morning trip was laced with conversation, mostly her prying and trying to coerce me into dealing with what had happened. It didn’t work because I wouldn’t let it. I wasn’t ready to deal with it. I just needed more time.

My nights were spent outside. I would wait until she was fast asleep before sneaking out. Sometimes I went out to the rooftop garden—I was drawn to it despite how painful a reminder was. Other times I would find a park and walk around aimlessly. On those walks, I often felt as though I was looking for something in the trees, searching for someone in the clearings, hoping for one thing or another to lead me away from this half existence. The only thing I ever found was the moon.

When I saw her hanging in the sky, Jake’s words returned to me from all those years ago, from the night before he left the camp to return home. Drei had struck some deal with the Lady of the Moon, keeper of promises. I didn’t know what he had promised, or if she was doing her part in it, but every night I was out there, I asked of her the same thing.

“Bring him back to me...please. I can’t keep living like this.”

I would stare after her until she began to disappear over the horizon. Then I would sneak back into Caroline’s apartment, pretending to have just woken up. She didn’t know I left at night; she didn’t know I couldn’t sleep. It was just another reminder that no one could replace him; it was also a painful reminder of how much and how little he really knew about me.

Vampiric: Chapter Eight, Part 1

Chapter Eight: Facing the Devil

“There’s no question about it,” Caroline was saying as she swerved in and out of traffic. Riding with her made me better respect Ian’s fast-paced driving; at least he wasn’t narrowly escaping an accident every two seconds. “You’re staying with me. I’ll even pick up your stuff from that place.”

I didn’t object, though the accommodations weren’t preferable. I hadn’t said anything since she had picked me up. No more tears would come, either. Even though I felt I could justify hating her, I didn’t. I think in part because when she had arrived, she didn’t start bossing. She just sat next to me, whispering the words I had tried to believe, rubbing my back to quell my tears. I think part of it was also due to the fact I didn’t feel anything at the moment. After the tears had stopped, I felt empty. There wasn’t anger or sadness, fear or a sense of hopelessness. There wasn’t even that feeling of dread I had been harboring the past months. Although that should have made me feel worse, there was only the familiar void of nothingness. That may have been partly due to some subconscious fear of completely shattering, a precaution my mind had taken to keep me somewhat together.

Caroline gazed at me, barely missing a red pickup in front of us, her dust filling with the far off sound of angry honking. “You should be able to fit my clothes;” she turned back to the road. “You can wear my things until I get yours.”

It wasn’t long before she drove into a parking garage attached to an all brick apartment building with large balconies lined with wrought iron railing. I didn’t ask; I didn’t honestly care to know. That didn’t stop her from saying, “This is what I call home at night. Unexpected, I know, but also complicated.”

Following her, my gaze settled just high enough to watch her shoes—a pair of high tops covered in a collection of colorful artwork reminiscent of graffiti.

“You can stay in this room,” she said pushing open a door just inside her apartment. “I’m just down the hall if you need anything.”

I sidled past her into the room. It was a decent space with a full sized bed completely made up in dark blues and stark whites. A cedar hope chest sat at the foot, turtle doves carved nestling against each other inside a wreath of intricately swirling vines. In the corner by the window was a cedar bureau decorated in a similar pattern of vines. From the window, a rooftop garden was visible, but I couldn’t stand to look at it—Drei used to keep a garden. I pulled the navy curtains closed.

“And Abriel,” Caroline said, still standing outside the doorway. I turned to face her. “It will get easier to live without him.” Tapping the doorframe lightly with her left-hand fingers, she slipped away, leaving me alone again.

I wasn’t yet sure which I preferred, but I sat on the bed, staring at the swirling embroidery of the curtains. The answers to my questions weren’t there, but it didn’t stop me from looking and hoping. The question I most wanted an answer to was “Why?”