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 Six, Part 8

“I need your help,” I said gently, knowing there would never be a good time. “My movement is starting soon; our first meeting is after everyone’s finals. I want you on my team, for everything you can bring.” As I explained, I watched him carefully, not wanting to risk losing him to his own suffering right now. “School will come first. The only relative downside is we have two years.”

Jake didn’t say anything, which worried me. Everyone had reacted to the two-year limit and he wasn’t even batting an eye at it.

“Are we taking them down?” he asked after a moment.

Nodding, I said, “That’s the general plan.”

“I’m in.”

We sat there for a long while, me wondering if I should ask if he needed anything else, him wallowing in his own thoughts.

“Will I ever forgive them?” he asked softly, gazing steadily at the river. “My family?”

Sitting back on my hands again, I gave the only answer I could think of: “You’ll know in time, though I’d like to think you’ll be able to.”

Nodding, he admitted, “I have another question.”

“Shoot.”

“Can we save her?”

I almost hated the way he was looking at me, as though all of his hopes and dreams depended on the next thing I said. Yet it seemed fitting, as I had done the same thing to Caroline a year and a half ago.

“We’ll do our best,” I promised, unable to give the affirmative. There were too many variables, and how he meant saved may not be the same as just freeing her from whatever facility in which she was kept. “Did you want me to do anything for you?”

Jake shook his head, exhaling heavily. “You’ve done so much for me already.”

“It wouldn’t take much for me to remove your pain,” I offered, wanting to do more. I wasn’t sure if leaving him in this condition was healthy.

“I need it,” he said, holding my gaze. “It’ll make me better.”

“If you don’t let it consume you.”

“I’ll handle it better this time around,” he promised, offering a small smile. That hint of youth hadn’t been an illusion after all. “Besides, I’ll be seeing more of you now, and you can keep me in check.”

Smiling back, I assured him I would. He then excused himself, heading back to campus and leaving me by the river, promising he’d be better when I saw him next.

I watched him leave, not moving quite yet. It amazed me how this had gone from being a general action that needed to be done, to being personal for so many people. Ian needed it to happen so he could make his own contribution. Xenia needed it so she could be herself. Kora needed it so she could live a normal life without having to keep secrets—though I wasn’t sure she realized that yet. Mikael needed it so he’d know no one else would have to go through what he went through. Caroline needed it because it was her goal. Jake needed it so he didn’t feel like it really was his fault. And I needed it because I’d know I didn’t relinquish my dreams in vain.

Two years was starting to look like the least of my worries.

Eternal: Chapter Six, Part 6

She grumbled and sat back. Jake didn’t look at her; he had unwound some but was still visibly tense. I couldn’t help myself; before I knew it I was chilling the air around him, circulating it in a way that was pulling his frustrations and hardness from him. He let himself become relaxed, sitting back and closing his eyes a moment before opening them and scanning the room. Though I had looked away, still working the air around him, I felt his eyes burn into me, trying to figure out what was happening.

“Jake,” Professor Rakins called, pulling his attention from me, “you’ve covered society. Now what about yourself? Where do you draw the line for forgiveness?”

He glanced up at me again before beginning to answer. “I think it depends on the offense. I can forgive someone breaking my heart, or emotionally hurting me with time. But I don’t think I could forgive someone who hurts the people I know, or even those I don’t, in a way that has lasting damage. I couldn’t forgive someone who forces me and others like me to live a certain lifestyle. It’s not possible. People shouldn’t have to live the way someone else chooses for them.”

“What if that someone is a person you love?” I asked, reminded of the decisions Drei had made for me, and the ones others had made for me my entire life.

“Someone who loves you would let you make your own choice,” he responded coldly. “They wouldn’t put you through pain like that. They wouldn’t endow themselves with the power to make your choices.”

“Your parents do,” a girl next to Natalie added.

“Spouses, too,” a boy next to her added. “People you love are always making decisions concerning you.”

“And they shouldn’t be forgiven for it,” he said forcibly, very near shouting.

“Even if that means deciding to put you through a surgery that might save your life?” the boy asked. When Jake didn’t repeal his answer, the boy stood up. “You’re messed up…a real piece of work.” And he left, the other girl and Natalie sharing a look before following him.

“Don’t forget the final,” Professor Rakins called after them before scanning the remaining people. “Miss, I don’t believe I know you,” he said, pointing to me. “It doesn’t matter, but give your name and your opinion on this.”

I regretted speaking earlier, it might have saved me having to debate against him. “Leirba,” I started, avoiding the hard stare Jake was giving me. He didn’t say anything to correct me, thankfully, but this wasn’t going to make things easier. “For me, I somewhat agree with Jake. It depends on the offense. I don’t know if I could forgive someone who murdered someone I knew, or tried to. But I can forgive the people I love. I can always find a reason to forgive someone I love,” I answered, meeting Jake’s gaze. “Yes, sometimes they make decisions for me I don’t agree with, but I love them, and I do so for a reason. And that reason is enough.”

“So what about them?” he questioned bitterly. Many of his peers started muttering to each other, trying to determine who “they” were—coming to many different conclusions—and how we knew each other. “Can you forgive them for everything they’ve done? For everything they continue to do?”

Swallowing, I had to think about it. I didn’t know off the top of my head. They—the government and the people working under it—had taken my mother, had tortured and scarred me, had practically imprisoned Nick—a former boyfriend and still good though absent friend of mine—and forced so many of us to live in constant fear of being found out. Exhaling slowly, feeling everyone’s eyes on me, I replied, “I don’t know. Maybe someday, I might be able to. But it won’t be any time soon.”

That sent him over. He looked to say something as he jumped up from his seat, glared at me a second, and then grabbed his bag and stormed from the classroom.

“From the sounds of it, I should be looking forward to the essays Tuesday,” Professor Rakins chuckled, trying to break the tension in the room. It wasn’t working. There was no chattering and most people couldn’t even look at one another. I hated it; I always hated feeling uneasy, especially when it wasn’t mine. “Well then,” he tried again, receiving no response. “Class dismissed. Remember: Tuesday, 12:30.”

The rest of the students, myself included, left the room; I felt rotten for not supporting Jake on that point, but I couldn’t help how I felt, and I honestly believed that someday, depending on how things worked out, I might be able to forgive them for their seriously misguided thinking and heinous actions. I hoped I would be able to do so. I would never forget their transgressions, but I didn’t want to hate them for the rest of my days.

Vampiric: Chapter Twelve, Part 1

Chapter Twelve: The Missing Pieces of the Puzzle

Wherever I had ended up was dark. In all my imaginings of death, I had never thought it would be dark. It had always been bright—on the brink of blinding—with a gentle melody leading me along to a place full of people who knew me, who had been waiting for me. To be in darkness made my failure seem far more stark.

“Before I explain,” Drei’s voice said from the darkness, “I need to tell you the story you’ve been requesting to hear.”

Hearing him so close wasn’t a comfort. I was terrified by the thoughts of what could have happened to him, especially after I had wanted him to stay safe. Being here—if it was where I thought I was—was not by any means safe.

“Where are you?” I asked, my voice harsh, my throat dry and constricted. Another oddity; I didn’t think death meant you still suffered bodily needs like thirst.

A lamp came on, temporarily blinding me. Once my eyes adjusted from the shock, I saw Drei sat on the edge of a nearby chair, hunched forward and seeming unable to look at me.

“Right here,” he whispered, his eyes dark and sorrowful.

The light partially illuminated the room around us. The entire space was dark, heavy curtains drawn over what appeared to be the only window. I had been tucked under sheets and thick woolen blankets on a bed. Thus far, the only thing consistent with my imaginings of death was that I didn’t feel like myself; something was very odd and not quite right with me.

 “Everything will make sense when I finish,” Drei said; I could have sworn I could feel his insecurity. That couldn’t be, though, because I remembered losing touch with the air in the hospital. I decided to trust Drei would make sense of this all.

“Okay,” I said, watching him carefully.

“Nearly 400 years ago, before I was turned, I met someone,” he said softly, the shame rising from the memory engulfing him. “At the time, I was finishing my studies at university. A few of my peers went to celebrate the end of exams, though most of us had another the following day. It was at the pub where she noticed and seduced me. There was no hiding what she was doing; she openly admitted what she wanted. When I resisted, insisting I could not partake that night, nor anytime soon as I was returning home after the commencement exercises, she told me I would be unable to resist her. Unfortunately, that was also the truth.

“She released me from her spell long enough to pass my final exam and receive my diploma. I had planned to make my escape after the ceremony and return home, but she awaited my exit and seduced me anew. I spent the next several weeks with her, not realizing how much time had elapsed until a letter arrived from home, requesting my immediate return. She was livid, insisting I would be unable to leave.” He rubbed his temples as though he could still hear her protests. “I knew I had to go. I missed my sisters, and she had underestimated the strength of my love for them. So one day, as she rested, I left, hoping that was the last I would see of that place.”

“What happened?” I asked, my voice still scratchy but slowly returning to normal.

Running an unsteady hand through his hair, he said, “A month later, she showed up in my bed chambers. There was no way she could have been there, let alone have known that is where I was. She scolded me for leaving her, insisting it had been a poor choice. That I wanted to please her, keep her contented, or she would drain me. It was my first indication as to her true nature. She presented me an option, then: I could devote myself to her and leave my family straight away, or I could deny her. Though she guaranteed I would not like the consequences of denying her, I…I could not imagine disappearing from my sisters’ lives. They needed me…they were still young and impressionable…you understand.” His voice was pleading, as if trying to convince me they didn’t deserve their fate, whatever it had been. “And I believed myself intelligent and resourceful enough to elude whatever consequences she promised.”

“Drei,” I whispered, not wanting him to continue. His hands and voice shook from the pain of the memory; I reached a hand out to him, though he was just out of reach. For as long as I had wanted to know, I didn’t want him plagued by remembering after he had worked so hard to forget. I hated seeing him pained, especially when there was little I could do about it.

“No, you must know to understand,” he asserted, moving his seat closer and taking my hand. I could still feel the pain and shame clouding the air around him, but the contact seemed to renew his resolve and stop his trembling.

“For weeks she showed up, issuing the same offer, and each time I remained insistent on staying. One evening, I had been taking a stroll, considering my future and whatnot when she appeared. I thought she was there for the same reason she had been the nights previously, so I ignored her. Until she stopped me. She teased me a while, asking for another chance to fix things between us. When I explained I would have to refuse her, she stalled with small talk. After an appropriate interval of time, she let me go with no proposal, no threats or consequences. I was sure I had finally convinced her she did not need me. How naïve I was,” Drei lamented, cradling his head in his free hand, gripping tighter to mine.

Vampiric: Chapter Ten, Part 4

Caroline joined us then, sitting at her desk, tossing me a pad of paper. “How do we want our supporters to show the government this isn’t all hot air?”

“What about having them do something with the flag?” Ian asked, slipping easily into business-mode.

“No, it’s too direct an attack too soon,” Caroline argued, tapping a finger against her chin. “What about buying something?”

“Not everyone is going to want to spend money on something they won’t necessarily use,” I countered, logically, surprised I had switched gears as quickly as Ian. “How about an online petition or something like that?”

“We already have things like that. It doesn’t mean they’re all serious,” Ian returned, shaking his head. “We could do a download or something along those lines?”

“Nah,” Caroline dismissed, waving it off. “It wouldn’t be accurate. Some people would download just to see what it was. It has to be just for the supporters. The people who are taking this seriously. A game, maybe?”

“You’d run into the same problem,” I said. “People would buy it just to have it. And it would take ages to set up. You want something they can do now.”

“A nationwide march day,” Ian suggested. “It could work, right?”

“And not everyone who may support us could get off work,” Caroline said, pursing her lips. “Besides, that’s a lot of work to organize in not a lot of time. We want it to show up soon after the broadcast.”

“What about…” The idea was only half formulated in my mind, but it had promise. I remembered the sermons on the plagues of Egypt from back when I attended church. The Israelites had marked their doorways so their firstborns would be safe from the hand of death.

“What?” Caroline said with an edge to her voice, twirling a hand in the air. “We’re running out of ideas, so you might as well come out with it.”

“I don’t have it all figured out,” I confessed excitedly. “But what if we had them mark their house or apartment or wherever they live?”

“How do you mean?” Ian asked, sitting forward as well.

“Like, with a certain color or marking in the window or on the door. A way to admit…they’re supporting us without forcing them to spend money or do anything extravagant.”

“But what marking?” Caroline questioned, slightly skeptical, but her eyes alight with interest.

“That’s what I haven’t figured out.”

“I got it!” Ian smacked his hands together, his face glowing with pride. “The letter C. It’s how they know you, for one.”

“And it can be red,” I added. “The color of passion, and the most related to fire.”

“We’ll only have one for windows,” Caroline said, pointing at both of us. “On the door risks being stolen. And that wouldn’t do us any good.”

“I think it’s perfect,” Ian said, sitting back and smiling.

“Great thinking, Abs,” Caroline praised

“Don’t thank me yet,” I warned, the next problem coming to mind already. “We still have to figure out distribution.”

That took us forever. Most of the people celebrating were well gone by the time we came to a conclusion. For the longest time we toyed with the idea of sending them to a major superstore, but came to the dilemma of trust. Just because they arrived didn’t mean they’d be distributed for free. Then we played with the thought of setting it up online, but that was too risky. Too easy to trace to a source. Then Ian suggested a mass mailing. To hire different companies to mass produce these decals and then mail them to every household in their region. With the sponsorship money Caroline was somehow collecting in an offshore account under her project name, C, expenses weren’t a major concern. She was even willing to pay double to ensure the product was made and shipped so they arrived the day after the broadcast. And so everyone knew what it was for, she was going to talk to our technicians about hacking a satellite or something to make the announcement truly nationwide.

It was ingenious. Provided we could pull it off.

As the sun rose that morning, we left yawning, agreeing after a much needed rest, we’d use prepaid cell phones to call every sign company in the nation, setting them up to have the decals ready to mail in three week’s time. According to Caroline, she couldn’t have asked for a better team.

Vampiric: Chapter Ten, Part 2

As I had expected, Caroline sat in the living room, trying fruitlessly to focus on the paperwork before her. I watched her for a few minutes, witnessing her unease as she’d lift a page, sit back to read it, only to find herself staring blindly at it the next moment and trading it for another. Letting the door close noisily behind me, I shrugged out of my coat, feeling her eyes on me as she tried telling herself she wasn’t staring.

Taking Ian’s advice, I sat on the couch across from her, saying, “We need to talk.”

Caroline nodded. For the first time since New Year’s, I studied her and was surprised to see dark circles under her eyes.

“I’m sorry for blowing you off,” I began, slowly, figuring an apology was as good a place as any to begin. “I was…so upset by everything and I didn’t want to say something I’d regret.”

“I’m just grateful you’re talking to me again,” she said. She sighed and leaned back. “I have a question, though.”

“Yes?” I had a sickening feeling I knew what it was, which was worsened by the way she wouldn’t meet my eyes. Though I wasn’t sure I was ready to answer, I realized it was now or never. I had already waited too long.

“Why did he ask you to leave?”

It was my turn to sigh and sit back. There it was. Closing my eyes, I pretended I was talking to Ian again, when it had been somewhat easy to share. “He saw you kiss me and thought it was something more—”

“—when you were promoted and kept getting called away,” she finished, shaking her head dejectedly. Caroline ran her hands over her face, her fingertips stopping, tented under her nose. “God, Abs. I’m so sorry.” When she opened her eyes, I could see the tears pooling in them.

“It isn’t completely your fault,” I said. “I should have talked to him about it sooner, and he should have spoken to me as well.”

“But if I had been thinking…I shouldn’t have—”

“Caroline.” Now that she knew, I discovered I didn’t really want her to beat herself up about it. I just wanted things to be the way they had been, even if I didn’t think it was possible. “Nothing can change what happened. You didn’t know, and you weren’t expected to.”

“I’m sure there were signs I missed…that I ignored, Abs.”

“If there were signs we were anything more than…friends, at the most, it means we were careless,” I explained poorly. To fully explain the circumstances would take forever and even then she wasn’t likely to understand. “So if you knew, that means others knew, which means what should have happened would have been much worse.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, sitting forward on her elbows.

“It’s better if you don’t know,” I replied, really not wanting to go into that. “My point is, I didn’t want to outright blame you for that and whatever else I could think of at the time. I didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship while I was angry.”

Caroline stood and plopped down next to me, throwing her arms around my shoulders. “I thank you for that. If you had yelled at me, I would probably be the one not talking to you.”

“I know;” I smiled and hugged her back.

“Want to know something?” she asked, catching my gaze.

“Hm?”

“I think I know how you were feeling…still are feeling somewhat.”

“Ian kind of told me that,” I admitted, sheepishly. “Said I was behaving just as Drei had.”

“Exactly,” she said. “What if everything that happened was just because—”

“Stop.” I shook my head and closed my eyes. “This was his choice. We’ll both live with it so long as he chooses. Maybe longer. Don’t give me hope for anything different.”

“So if he came tomorrow and apologized, would you take him back?”

The question caught me off guard. I wanted to say yes, but less than five months ago I had told her I wouldn’t. “I’ll know if it happens.” It was the only honest answer I had.

“Not if, silly. When,” she corrected, squeezing my hand. “No worries, Abs. I’ll be optimistic enough for both of us. It will happen.”

Falling asleep that night, I couldn’t help but replay her logic and begin to hope she was right—against my own cautioning desires. Hope had brought him to me before and had kept me going this long; I could only have faith hope would be on my side again.

Vampiric: Chapter Ten, Part 1

Chapter Ten: Blood Thirst

Caroline tried to make me speak to her. From the minute she arrived back from the club she was outside my door begging me to listen. I wanted to yell at her, to tell how much I regretted her in my life, but I knew those words wouldn’t be entirely true. They were anger blowing everything out of proportion. So I laid there pretending to be asleep until after she gave up for the night.

For a couple of weeks, I avoided her. The thought of speaking with her filled me with inexplicable fury. I would wake up before her and leave for work early, then return after she had turned in for the night. At work, I listened to what she needed done and left before she could mix personal with business. I didn’t need to hear what I couldn’t trust myself not to respond rashly to.

Nights were an escape of sorts, though I knew my dreams weren’t helping to make things better. At least, I believed them to be dreams. Who knew? Drei was in all of them. Similar to the times before I had met him, he would slip into my room and lie beside me. He never spoke, but I assumed that was because I didn’t know what he would say. I had given up on imagining what he would say. But I knew it was him from the scent ingrained in his skin, the gentle way he tucked my hair behind my ear and kissed my temple. The way his fingertips trailed down my arm to lace between my fingers.

When I woke up, half-expecting to find him there, I was greeted by the gently swelling curtains. Since New Year’s, I had started sleeping with the window cracked open, letting the chill winter air wrap around me. It felt soothing and calming, helping me believe I would be ready to face her soon.

I even avoided Ian when he tried to speak on her behalf. He always felt so depressed when I walked away. For whatever reason, that depression clung to me, causing guilt to slowly grow alongside the dissipating anger.

One night as I was leaving work, Ian stopped me. “Get in;” he bobbed his head in the direction of his vehicle. When I didn’t budge or meet his gaze, he said, “We need to talk.”

“Why should I talk to you?” I asked, staring past him, incapable of finding an excuse.

“Because you’re doing the same damned thing he did to you.”

Meeting his eyes, I wanted to argue—felt the need to argue—but the words wouldn’t come. They were stuck in my throat. He was right.

I climbed into the passenger seat and steadied my gaze outside. He didn’t say anything straight away, trying to find the right words to start. I could feel his uncertainty and hear his struggle.

“Forget the flourishes and fancy way of talking around things,” Ian said suddenly, glancing at me. “What did she do to deserve this? Especially from you?”

“She talks to you?” I asked, staring through the windshield so I could watch him on the edge of my vision. I knew it was time to tell someone, even if it was Ian and not her.

“Yes.”

“Did she ever tell you she kissed me?”

He glanced at me, then did a double-take as if he thought he had misheard. “Kissed you?” he asked, sounding as though it grew more ludicrous as he repeated it. “You’re kidding.”

“No. She doesn’t know he saw. And neither would you. So neither of you would know that’s what started it.” I inhaled deeply, trying to steady my voice and keep the swelling emotion at bay. “Then she started calling all the time for my job, needing to see me…and it made things worse. It made him doubt me. Gave him reason to believe I didn’t love him anymore.”

“But why now?” he questioned, his loyalty to Caroline overriding his pity. “You could have held that against her five months ago when you first split.”

“Because then I could ignore it. She was helping me so much, but—” The words I had escaped me and nothing came in their stead—just empty strands of thought searching for something to hold onto.

Ian laid a hand down to stop me wringing mine. “What was it about that night?”

That night. I had avoided thinking about it, though rather unsuccessfully. “The way everything he did reminded me of Drei. Of our relationship when it was still working for us.”

“But why take it out on her now?”

I wondered if there was a reason he wanted to know it all, if it was his way of helping me prepare to talk with her or something else. The more I said to him, the less I felt angry and the more I felt like I could do this. I could tell her and it would be okay.

“I’m not trying to,” I said softly. “I was trying not to take it out on her.”

“Why this way?”

Shaking my head, I admitted, “Silence was better than saying something I’d regret.”

He pulled to the curb by the apartment building. “Talk to her, okay?”

“I don’t know how to start that conversation,” I whispered, shaking my head.

“And you think I knew how to start this one?” he teased, offering a knowing smile. I gazed at the silent building, knowing she was inside, possibly still up waiting. “Tell you what. Start with, we need to talk. See where it takes you.” Again, he was right, but this time I was grateful for his opinion.

My arms wound around his neck. “Thank you.”

“Go on. Putting it off only makes it worse.” After a moment, he grinned and added, “Good luck.”

As I climbed out of the car, I could have sworn I felt a kiss on my cheek. Glancing back, Ian winked at me and I made a mental note to ask him about that later on. I suspected while he knew our secrets, there was one of his own he should share—with me at least.

Vampiric: Chapter Nine, Part 6

He followed me downstairs where we stopped only long enough to grab my sweater and his jacket. Since we had arrived, the breeze had shifted to roll off the ocean, cool and refreshing. It raked gently through my hair and played with the skirt of my dress. Though I knew pants would have been more sensible in the dropping temperatures, I had felt like wearing a dress. Caroline had already given me a hard time for it, but I could be equally stubborn.

Since I had found out I was an air elemental, I hadn’t been to the beach. It was such a different experience. The air was heavy with briny mist but simultaneously fresh and relaxing. I had never known heavy air to be so calming. Usually it was depressing and exhausting.

“The sand will be cold,” he warned as I kicked my flats off by the porch.

“I don’t mind,” I said, pushing my hair over my shoulder and out of my face.

“Suit yourself.” He made his way down the beach and to the water’s edge.

I followed, gasping more at the coldness in the water than in the sand. From the corner of my eye, I could tell he was struggling not to say those four eye-roll-worthy words. But I wouldn’t have minded so much. My feet were already adjusting to the cold and I began to enjoy watching the sandy particles cling and wash away so easily.

“Does it ever bother you that you’re surrounded by girls?” Then, thinking maybe I hadn’t been clear enough, elaborating, “I mean, like Caroline, and now me.”

Ian pulled his hat off and tousled his hair before answering. “Not really. Caroline’s like family, so I’m used to it. And you’re just a cool friend I’m starting to somewhat understand.”

“Understand?” I asked, smiling. It seemed a silly word to describe a blossoming friendship. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, you aren’t as mysterious anymore. You seem more human…more like someone to trust than when we first met.”

“I don’t know what to make of that.” I watched as he pulled his cap on again. “But one thing I don’t understand about you is your cap. You’re always wearing one.”

He shrugged, and I was beginning to think it was his signature gesture—or at least the gesture of the day. “My grandparents never had a lot of money, so for Christmas, my grandmother always knitted me something. One year it was a stocking cap,” he said, tugging his navy fleece cap over the tips of his ears. “I guess it just stuck.”

Nodding, I gazed out over the ocean. It was calm, pulsing gently. There was a gray-green hue to the top layer; further out, that layer shimmered as if it were perfectly still and had nothing better to do than sparkle in the dim sunlight.

“So how did you know?” he asked, interrupting my observations.

“Know what?” I wondered if this was about Caroline again.

“That first broadcast. How did you know they were coming?” He studied me as carefully as I had him.

“Oh…that.” It wasn’t something I wanted to tell him because it was a habit not to mention it. Caroline wouldn’t have known if she hadn’t tried testing me that first day. “It’s more up to her if she wants you to know,” I told him, hoping it would work as well as it had on Conan.

“She said the same thing of you;” he smirked, staring at his feet a moment before stopping. I turned around to face him, trying to figure out if his stopping was a good sign or a bad one. “Secrets are okay to have,” he said slowly, holding my eyes. “But sometimes it’s better to share with someone. Sometimes it’s…a relief for someone else to know.”

Hugging myself, I debated if I wanted him to know. Drei knew, but he was the one who explained it to me. Most people from the safe camp knew, but that’s because it wasn’t a secret there. Even Nick knew now; though he had had some idea of what I was back then, he now had it perfectly documented to erase any doubt he might have had. Caroline even knew.

The breeze blew a little harder, whipping my hair around my face, almost seeming to berate me for contemplating the wrong question. It didn’t matter who already knew. What I needed to know was if I wanted Ian to know. Did I trust him enough? After everything he had shared about his family and what he knew after countless years with Caroline, was it enough to trust him with the biggest secret of my life?

“I’m an air elemental,” I whispered, ensuring the words reached his ears as I looked up. “That’s how.”

I knew I had made the right choice in confiding in him, especially since I had this feeling I would need him later on. But that didn’t stop my stomach from churning. While I knew it was right, something felt wrong about it. Like I was breaking some unspoken promise not to tell. That didn’t make sense, though. This hadn’t happened when I had practically told Caroline, but she was an elemental, too. Did that make a difference? Or was it something more? Something deeper I didn’t understand?

That was the right question to ask. The moment I thought it, the answer flooded me and tears misted my eyes. Telling Ian felt almost more like I was forsaking Drei. Which I was, sort of. Maybe. I didn’t know anymore. Part of me still wanted him despite how much thoughts of him still hurt. He used to be my only confidante, and I was replacing him. Which should have been a good thing, right?

Turning from Ian so he wouldn’t see the tears welling in my eyes, I started walking again. The shallow water splashed softly behind mme and I expected him to ask something, or comment, or anything. I didn’t expect him to wrap his arms around me and kiss the side of my head; I hadn’t expected him to whisper a thank you in my ear, to reward me with comfort when I felt like I had truly betrayed Drei.

Vampiric: Chapter Seven, Part 11

Purposely taking up more time, I wrote a note and pinned it to his door, insisting we needed to talk, even if he had to wake me up. Then, walking at nearly a maddeningly slow pace, I made my way outside and slipped into the passenger seat.

“Take long enough?” Ian asked jovially, speeding off.

“Sorry if I’m not Little Miss Sunshine;” I stared out the window.

“Something wrong already?”

“You obviously wouldn’t understand.” Although he tried to make small talk—possibly an attempt to cheer me up before we met Caroline—I ignored him, adding another thing on my list why I wished I had never met her.

The meeting was to finalize our employee list—since she was adding a few more, but had interviewed probably 20 people—and for her to thank me for redoing the charts—finally finished and filed.

All I could think of doing was going back to the apartment and waiting up for Drei. I didn’t care if he didn’t return until the next day or if Caroline called a hundred times before then. I set up camp on the couch, my phone off and charging, the lights off, and my mind racing. I only wished we could work this out; unfortunately, I wasn’t sure anymore if he wanted the same thing.

Around midnight, there was a knock on the door, which I ignored. Drei had a key; he wouldn’t need me to let him in. He probably wouldn’t assume I’d be there to do so. I continued staring into space. A few hours later, another knock came, louder and more insistent. Around the time the sky began to lighten, Drei entered.

“We need to talk,” I said, rising to face him. Then I noticed Ian standing behind him.

“A shame work came calling.” Drei, not even seeming disappointed, went straight to his room and closed the door, letting the note hang there unnoticed.

“Have you been here all bloody night?” Ian cried, immediately on his phone.

With nothing else I could do, shy of breaking down his door and locking Ian out, I picked up the fully charged phone and turned it on, greeted by fifty messages; there were probably more missed calls than that.

“I’m with her now,” Ian said, pacing in the entranceway. “Yes. We’re going now,” he said, shooting me a tight-lipped look; I hadn’t thought it was possible to anger Ian.

Needless to say, Caroline was pissed because my phone was shut off and, according to her, she had been worried sick about me. I didn’t care. My relationship was falling apart; Drei was a complete stranger to me anymore. When I had first met him, we hadn’t been this foreign to each other. And what was worse, I didn’t know how to fix it. I wasn’t sure there was a way. So as Caroline droned on, berating me in between explaining why she had wanted us there, I was debating if I could even try anymore. If it was possible for me to take anymore.

Vampiric: Chapter Seven, Part 4

“We are close to our destination,” Drei said.

Opening my eyes, I felt mildly refreshed, surprised to find I had slept some on the car ride. Rain tapped on the car windows and the swish of the windshield wipers seemed to want its own part in the melody. Caroline sat behind Drei, her crimson hair pulled into a French twist, a few strands held in place by a black lily pin. She had curled some of her hair to the side to give the illusion of wispy bangs. A set of pearls dangled from her neck, accentuating the cut of her little black dress. She had even donned a set of stockings and pearl hued slingback heels. There was no doubt she could pull off the uptown look. Better than some of the people I used to know, even.

“You look nice.” I wrapped my arms around my knees.

Her bronze eyes swiveled to me. “I do what I can,” she shrugged, allowing a small smile. “Uh, how long?”

“Five minutes if traffic stays the way it is;” Drei glanced in the rearview.

Whether it was the rain or something else, I felt sleepy. If we were that close, though, I needed to stay awake.

“So what else do you have to tell us?” I asked, needing some distraction to focus on.

“Well, Drei will take you upstairs, and when he goes in, Ian will come out to drive me back. But we need you to stay home for a couple of months, Abs,” she stated, staring out the window. “Drei, Ian will stop by some time to get some blood from Abs. I'd ask you, but Ian's doing all the work anyway, so it's best if he has his hands on it when he needs it.”

She likely couldn’t appreciate the intelligence in that decision. Not that I didn’t trust Drei, but, who knew what could happen? We were already pressing our luck; we didn’t need something else to press it further.

“What does he need her blood for?” His shoulders tensed; there was an edge to Drei’s voice, and a touch of something else I couldn't describe. I would have said protective, but I had heard him protective before and that wasn’t it.

“He's setting up an accident scene. It comes down to this: Abs, we need you. You're probably the third most important person in this project. I need you working with me, but you can't with everyone looking for you. So hang low, Ian will set up a scene by the docks. Bodies disappear there all the time, but the blood will ID you. Once they determine you're dead, and after a few weeks of dragging the bay, you'll be free. You can work.” She gazed at me again, her hands twisted around each other in her lap. “That's if you want to. I can't force you; but the least I can do is free you from the wanted pages.”

Caroline was asking a lot of me and we both knew it. Returning to work for her would mean risking a repeat. I gazed up at what I could see of Drei. My initial involvement was largely due to him, so my continuation would be also. “Can I get back to you?”

“Of course;” she nodded slightly, a hint of relief lacing her voice. “Take your time.”

“It sounds like quite the plan,” I said, wanting a subject that would make her act more the way I was used to. “Thanks for caring so much.”

Caroline waved it off, staring out the window again. “As I said, you're the third most important person. I need you; that and I can't even begin repaying you for taking the fall.”

Part of me wanted to tell her she didn't need to repay me, but the part missing Mom wouldn't hear it. If I had never gone, nothing concerning her would have changed. Since I had, it felt like everything I did had to be done just as much for her as for myself.

The car stopped, then. As Drei turned off the ignition and climbed out, Caroline reached to the front passenger seat, holding a floppy black sun hat as she sat back, motioning for me to sit next to her.

“Hold the blanket closed like this,” she instructed, wrapping the material around my shoulders, twisting it at my bosom and placing the gathered material in my hand. “And Drei's going to lead you in, so you can just keep this down far enough people will assume you're ill.” She combed my hair with her fingers in an attempt to make it unkempt. As she placed the hat on my head, her lips pressed against mine briefly.

I pulled away from her, trying to convince myself it was a mistake; she hadn't really just kissed me.

Drei opened the passenger door then, and Caroline smiled vaguely at him, as if lost in a universe of her own. It made me wonder if it hadn’t been a mistake, but I still wasn’t even sure if it had really happened.

“Ian borrowed some of your clothes so he could look like you. He promised to wash and return them,” she said as if she had just remembered.

“Come,” he directed, ignoring her, pulling me out of the car to follow. I pulled the front of the hat down over my face, still trying to figure out what had happened. It didn't make sense that she would kiss me. Neither did it make sense that Drei was so perturbed currently. Then again, he'd been a little snippy when Caroline first told him to drive.

Ian passed us on the way out, tipping his hat to us. Once he was past, I kept my head down, deciding nothing had happened in the car. It was easier to ignore it and write it off as a trick of the mind than admit anything had occurred, because that would lead to asking why it had. There was an answer I wasn’t sure I wanted.

Vampiric: Chapter Seven, Part 1

Chapter Seven: Shattered

Drei was by my side when I awoke. We were in a small, colorful room. Posters were tacked haphazardly on the walls and the quilt I was curled under was faded and worn soft. There was a single lamp lit with a square of pink chiffon thrown over it. Around the lamp, on the night table, necklaces and bracelets were strewn as decoration.

“Where are we?”

He smoothed damp hair from my face, his eyes scanning over me. “I presume you have suffered nightmares the past day,” he said.

Day? It felt like I had just fallen asleep. That horrible room and those ghastly people still seemed to be lurking behind some curtain of shadows. The room was comforting, though, as it didn’t seem likely such dangers could lurk beyond pink light.

“You have been sleeping for the past two days or so,” Drei informed me, wrapping a hand around mine. “Lily was kind enough to allow you to rest here. We are at her home.”

“Days?” I bolted upright and immediately regretted it. My head throbbed and dizziness overtook me. Cradling my head in one hand, steadying myself with the other, I asked, “Why haven't we left? It's dangerous here being so close to that place.”

Instead of answering, Drei put a hand over mine and rubbed my arm with the other, the gesture calming. “You needed rest. That, and you need to be awake when we return. Caroline tells me you are on the news as an escaped convict.”

Though that should have been startling news, it wasn’t. Not because I wasn't concerned about it, but more so because, through the headache and receding dizziness, it felt like I was forgetting something…or someone.

“Nick?”

“He should be at work, helping with the investigation of the security breech,” Drei responded, a slight twist to his lips. It was unusual to see him enjoying something like this so much. I swear, ever since he admitted he loved me, he reveled in breaking the rules. To my benefit, at least.

I realized that wasn't it. At least I was certain it was a someone and not a something. Why couldn’t I remember?

“What is it?” The glint of his wry smile dissipated.

Shaking my head—a vain hope of knocking loose whatever I was forgetting—I said, “I'm forgetting someone…but I can't remember—Mom! Where is she?” I asked, the dizziness gone and my headache a dull throb at the base of my skull. I wrapped my hands around his, holding them between us, steadying my eyes on his pale amethyst ones. He wasn't sidestepping my question. When he looked away, I read him, needing to know where she was, if she was okay.

“Why didn't she come?” I demanded, dropping his hands. I felt betrayed, but couldn't figure out why or by whom. It was either Drei, because he had to know what having her meant to me—despite how annoying she could be in her current state—or Mom, because she had finally had her chance. Granted it wasn't Dad, but it was still an unlocked door waiting to be opened. The possibility of it being Nick crossed my mind for not telling Drei in the first place Mom was there, too, or where to find her. But the moment they crossed my mind—reasons attached—I knew they were all wrong. It wasn't any of them.

“She chose to stay,” Drei said softly. “I offered to bring her along, but she said she needed to wait longer. Her time was yet to come.”

“Why did you listen to her?” I argued, anger boiling in my chest. The second he answered me, I knew by whom I felt betrayed. Myself. I had been stupid enough to think it might last. “She's crazy;” I felt tears press at my eyes.

Drei grabbed my shoulders firmly, trying to catch my gaze. I kept boring holes into the posters tacked to the walls, trying to find some answer in them and hoping someone could tell me why I had thought this wouldn’t be the case.

“Abriel;” my eyes finally met his again. “She was perfectly lucid when I asked her. She knows what she is doing is right, even if it means she must hurt you.” The memory floated above Drei's head and I snatched it away, wanting to see for myself.

She had cried as she told Drei that she had to stay behind, that she would only be in the way if she didn't. As awful as it may be, I felt some small amount of relief in seeing her cry. It at least meant she had an idea of what she was doing abandoning me again. No matter how annoying she had been, she was still my mom and I felt emptier having lost her than when I had never met her.

“You need more sleep,” he said after a moment when I didn't say anything else. As I laid back down, Drei sank to his knees, his free hand rubbing mine. “We shall leave tomorrow. I can understand your fear of staying too close for too long.” As he said this, I felt his fingers lightly brush along one of my wounds. They had started to scar.

“Are we walking?” I asked, my eyelids heavy already. I still hadn't been able to wrap my mind around why, whenever Drei was nearby, I could fall asleep so quickly.

“Not back to the city.” His amethyst eyes sparkled; “Especially not when you are in such desperate need of rest.”

“Then what?” I yawned, unable to help myself.

“You shall see when you wake tomorrow.”