Vampiric: Chapter Twelve, Part 4

Months passed like hours. The first couple were spent between sleeping and drinking. Against my personal desires, Drei helped me build up a resistance to my thirst, ensuring it would become easier over time. When I was awake, he brought news as I still wasn’t strong enough to leave the room.

I was shocked to hear Caroline’s revolution faltered and failed, withering away until only the bloggers vaguely remembered it had ever existed. Drei had said after she believed me dead, she began to lose heart in her project, blaming herself. Not even Ian could pull her from her guilt long enough to finish a broadcast. Slowly, she lost supporters as the call to action failed to be delivered and the news played it down as a joke. I was somewhat disappointed not even that insult could pull her from her depression.

With that came the truth regarding the shooting. In short, it was an anti-C group led by Martin—bitter at having not been given leadership over the camp—and Conan—sore about being found out as a snake. The long version: they had convinced a group of people that what Caroline was fighting for was far more sinister and would result in the extermination of “the pure.” Those poor dopes were talked into setting up a hit, but not for Caroline. With both of their leaders having a score to settle, and Martin too stupid to realize the revolution wasn’t remotely air-related, they set the hit for me. Martin had convinced Conan I had never been apprehended or killed and thus was the leader, with Caroline simply playing the front woman.

As much as that should have angered me, I felt sorry for them. Drei didn’t say anything explicitly, but I knew he was plotting something. It was against my better half to let him plan, but I overlooked it. They had, after all, shot me three times, even if they hadn’t been the ones to pull the trigger.

Drei also brought me magazines and papers so I could keep up with the rest of current events. At first I ignored them, not wanting to know what was happening, but was soon drawn into the tragedies of the world. It helped to re-motivate me. I had more time, but I wasn’t utilizing it, and I felt somewhat guilty about sleeping it away.

He was ecstatic I still had my element; he had been worried I would have lost it in my turning. To be honest, I had wondered the same thing until I began experimenting. If anything, I felt stronger and more in control. It seemed my turning had worn away any fears I had blocking my full potential. Either that, or it was having death nearly inhabit my body.

Even after I was physically strong enough to leave the room, Drei wouldn’t allow me to leave the apartment. He insisted I couldn’t for a while longer; not until it had all blown over. So to keep me entertained, he would encourage my experiments and shower me with gifts, occasionally kisses—but that was only rarely as he feared my new condition might cloud my judgment. Though often disappointed, I was grateful. It felt like a new entity lived inside me alongside my element. But this one came forward at his touch and terrified me. Drei promised I would adjust to that as well, learning to eventually control it.

One evening, after nine months of healing and adjusting, I sat watching the news; Drei was in the kitchen. They were covering a protest over a newly endangered rainforest and a recent natural disaster in a Pacific Island nation. Somewhere between the stories and everything else they reported, something clicked in my mind. Something rather unexpected.

“Drei?” I called, trying to determine how I felt. My mind raced between excited, frightened, serious, and calm.

“Yes?” he replied, handing me a mug of blood. I could feel his eyes taking in my mind’s dilemma before finally deciding on serious excitement.

“I think I know what I’m supposed to do,” I whispered, saying it aloud causing a bubble of excitement in my chest. I could barely contain myself. After so long, it seemed ridiculously easy to not have discovered forever ago.

“Truly?” he asked, measuring my response and not wanting to be taken in by a false alarm.

Staring at him, almost unable to see him for watching my idea bloom before me—taking definite shape and seeming to smile back at me—I knew it was too right to be wrong. I couldn’t be wrong; not this time. Not about this.

“I’m certain.”

End Book Two

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 Six, Part 7

More time passed, and more wounds crisscrossed my arms. At first, I had tried to block his slicing, but it was taking far more energy than I had thought possible. I couldn't sleep at all; who knew what else they might try. Despite knowing I couldn't last much longer, I still tried to avoid the knife; each time, though, it was easier for him to slice through any attempt I made against it.

“That was the longest spike we've had,” the feminine voice said.

“Good. Then we'll go a—”

Screams erupted from the darkness, cutting the man off. He stared off in the direction they came from as though trying to find the source of disturbance. The air seemed to fill with a floral scent. Then a black figure stepped partially into the light, its long coat brushing the toes of its polished shoes.

“Step away from her,” its low voice growled, dangerous and threatening. My heart fluttered in my chest—weary, excited, relieved, and so many other things simultaneously.

The man ran toward Drei, the knife out ahead so as to stab him. I knew he didn't stand a chance; I'd seen Drei take out two armed thugs before. The man went flying, crashing painfully into what sounded like a good deal of metal; his knife fell at Drei's feet, harmless.

“Drei,” I whispered as he appeared at my side, undoing the straps holding me and pulling away the sensors.

His hands touched my face, ensuring I wasn’t some illusion before his forehead met mine. I reached my hands up to cover his, afraid to believe he was real. I would have squeezed his hands if my arms hadn't felt so weak.

“Thank God.” He kissed my forehead and inspected the rest of me, his eyes catching on the wounds and various states of dried and wet blood running across my arms.

“What did they do to you?” he queried softly, a hand lightly brushing over my wounds before pulling me into him.

All of the tears I had held at bay while that madman cut me burst forth. I knew we had to be going, but I couldn't move. He had come. He was here, holding me tight. I didn't want him to ever let go again.

Without asking, Drei lifted me into his arms, cradling me so gently. Silent tears continued to stream down my cheeks, my arms wrapped around his neck in assurance he really was here. We weren't safe yet, but I fell asleep anyway. Just knowing he had come, he had kept his promise, was enough for me.

Vampiric: Chapter Six, Part 6

“She's still resisting,” a man with a clipboard said, his face shrouded in shadows.

“She will cooperate,” an angry voice growled from the shadows. A tall, wrinkled man following the words into the light. “Won't you.” A too long nose and tiny, wide-set eyes leveled with me.

When the lights had come back on, two men in black combat gear collected me from the cell—rather roughly considering I wasn't going to fight them; I could have, but it wasn’t worth the effort or the energy. They dragged me into another black room with one bright light, like where I had been before but different. Here, I could hear the whirring of machines. I was shoved into a chair that looked like it would better serve a death sentence than “research.” Straps were tightened across my wrists, shoulders, and ankles, as if anticipating some thrashing; they had also placed sensors on my temples and either side of my collar bone.

I didn't know how long I had been there, but so far the specialists had thrown objects at me, trying to scare me into submission. Each time, I diverted the object. What they hadn’t realized was I had no intention of fighting them directly, but they were not going to make me lose control.

“What will you do?” the other man asked, a scratching sound coming from his clipboard.

A sneer spread across the cracked lips of the one in front of me before he backed away. He reached for something on the tray—where the knives they had thrown earlier had come from. His face was hidden again in the darkness, but the object in his hand glinted in the light, a biting edge of metal smiling maliciously at me.

The man gaited slowly towards me again, my eyes locked on the long blade in his hand.

“I think we'll have to try something different, James,” he said in a low voice, a perkiness to it that didn't fit the mood. At least, not from where I was sitting. “You see, the other two elements have no choice. They don't have water or earth to come to their rescue. But with her,” he sneered again under the light, “we can't deprive her of that use. She's no good to us dead.”

“So what's the plan?” James inquired amidst more scratching sounds.

“A direct attack,” he replied, as if it had always been so simple. “We take the object we've been trying to scare her with, and make it so she has to acknowledge its existence.” He sliced the knife across my forearm.

I flinched, gasping, jerking my injured arm in an attempt to pull it out of danger and cover the wound. It hurt, more so because I hadn’t expected it.

“There was a spike in her brain activity,” a feminine voice called from the darkness.

The man turned toward the voice; “The kind we want?”

“Affirmative.”

She talked on about something dealing with my mom and the other experiments in progress, but my mind had raced to other things. If that had sparked the start of a reaction they wanted, I was in trouble.  Not just a little bit, either. They were closer to getting what they wanted, and I was fairly certain I was helpless to stop them.

Vampiric: Chapter Six, Part 4

Nick stopped in what felt like that night. Mom was waiting for him by the door the first time he came. He greeted her in much the same fashion as the last time; the only difference was on her part. She was less flirty and a little more motherly. Before leaving, he gave her a hug, thanking her for trying her hardest the past week.

The second time he came, the lights were dark and Mom was spinning circles in the center of the room. I watched from where I sat against the wall, reminded of that last day with Drei when I was spinning in the snow. I missed him; I wasn't even sure I remembered what he looked like. All I could really remember were his amethyst eyes, his comforting embrace, and his gentle smile. But the rest of him was missing. I had lost it somewhere in that dark void. And I wanted what I couldn’t remember back almost as much as I wanted Mom to be well again.

“I wish I could see him again,” I said softly as Nick sat beside me.

“Drei?” Squeezing my hand, he answered the question I was frightened to ask. “Lily left a week ago to find him. She has contacts all over, so she should have found him by now, but who knows. When she does, she'll direct him here.”

“He's coming?” I questioned, almost afraid to be too hopeful, holding Nick's eyes. Even in the darkness, they were still clearly jade.

“As soon as we can find him. I'll do my best to make sure he can get in on his own.”

“So that means—”

“You'll see him again.”

I threw my arms around him, kissing his cheek. “Thank you,” I whispered, unable to find any other words to express my gratitude. “I promise I'll pay back the favor.”

“No need to,” he admitted, sounding taken aback—it was probably the kiss. I hadn’t intended to kiss his cheek, but I was so ecstatic. “I told you I love you. That means I'll do anything to see you safe and happy; even if it means admitting both of those are with Drei.”

“But this is…amazing,” I said, feeling bubbly and energetic. “You're amazing. I should do something—”

And then I felt it. Well, realized I felt it. Not all was right. Despite my incomparable happiness at hearing Drei should be on his way, there was something Nick wasn't telling me. I knew him well enough to know he wouldn't just tell me, so I read him, confused and certain I didn’t like what he was hiding.

“Is something wrong?” he asked worriedly as I pulled away. His eyes searched my features in the dark.

“What's testing?” I hated the way the word felt vile and slimy in my mouth. Mom stopped spinning and I could feel her gaze burning into us.

Nick stared at me, unsure how I knew, but seeming to struggle more with how to answer. “That's not important.”

“You wouldn't be concerned with it if it wasn't important.” I couldn’t demand the information from him; he’d only continue to insist it was unimportant. “What is it?”

“Testing is bad,” Mom started, bounding over to us and sitting on her heels. Her eyes wider than usual, she shivered as if cold, but the temperature in the room hadn’t changed. “They drag you away, bind you, and force you to use your gifts. They cover you with these cup thingies, too, that read everything in you. Especially in your mind.”

“Who are they coming for?” I demanded, turning to Nick. “Mom?”

“No,” Nick replied, shaking his head. “They don't particularly like taking people who have been too often. I don't know what they do, but it tends to mentally break and physically exhaust people. The specialists, I would guess, are afraid any more treatment and your mom will become useless to them;” he stared at his feet.

“So it's me,” I stated, wanting him to say it outright. Nick didn't say anything, though; he just looked away and Mom watched him as if trying to figure out what was going on inside his head. “Just tell me.” I knew that's what he meant, but why he wasn't saying it was what confused me. What was scaring the life out of me.

“Nick,” my mom said softly, “I'm going to let you two talk, but you need to tell her. You need to tell her everything.”

He snatched her hand as she stood to leave us alone, saying, “I can't. Not all of it.”

Mom gazed down at him in an almost pitying manner. “Then as much as possible.”

Vampiric: Chapter Six, Part 3

“You want to learn a new trick?” my mom asked as she twirled in the middle of the room. It was the first coherent sound she'd made for what seemed like hours. She had just been spinning and giggling to herself, occasionally muttering something under her breath in a high pitched voice so it came out like series of squeaks.

That she had said anything sensible took so long for me to register after the string of nonsense I had been ignoring, she stopped her spinning to watch where I had spread out under the window in what was surely fake sunlight—it didn’t even feel warm.

“What trick?” I replied, sitting up on my elbows.

As was characteristically her, she raced, light-footed, to plop down beside me, her eyes wide and excited. She leaned close and whispered in my ear, “Reading.”

“What?” My first thought being she was kidding. I mean, reading? I must have misheard.

“Reading,” she repeated softly, the energy inside her causing her to start bouncing on her haunches. “It's really fun, but you can't tell anyone about it because it's top secret.”

Top secret? If she hadn't sounded as lucid as she did, I would have thought she was pulling my leg. The way she made it sound, it seemed more like something for a spy. Not for air elementals.

“Why is it so secret?” I asked, for lack of any other question or comment.

“Because you're reading thoughts,” she said vaguely as I sat up. “They're immediate thoughts, other thoughts are trickier to find and I haven't heard of anyone who figured out how to get that deep. But it's still really useful. You can find out if what someone is saying is really what they mean. It also tells you what kind of mood they're in.”

“What about seeing memories?”

“That's viewing, silly. Don't you know that one?” She waved it off. “That's as simple as pulling. If you can't do those, you definitely can't do reading.”

“I can; I learned viewing by accident;” I left out it was while I was hoping I could be more like her. “And pulling I learned by necessity.” If eavesdropping could be considered necessity. And I believed one could make a strong argument that satisfying curiosity was a necessity.

“Good,” she said, nodding, “you'll need the combination of the two to learn reading.”

“How so?”

“Well, if you stop rushing me, I'll explain it to you,” she sassed, crossing her arms and puffing her lips out.

“I'll shush,” I promised, zipping closed my lips.

“Okay.” She sat there, still. I watched her, waiting for her to say something more. All she did was look around, occasionally making a face at me for no apparent reason.

“Well?” I inquired, jarring her to attention.

“Sorry,” she squeaked, her eyes growing large and a hand flying to her lips. “I forgot, so sorry. How can I make it up to you, Sweetie?”

“By teaching me reading,” I said slowly, wondering if she was serious. She had just told me to shush so she could explain it. I told myself I wouldn’t be upset with her; I didn’t know how serious her mental damage might be and I was lucky she was lucid enough at times to teach me anything.

“I am serious,” she stated suddenly. “And I thank you for not being upset with me.”

“I never said you weren't serious. Nor did I ever say anything about being upset with you.”

“You didn't say it, but you thought it,” she said smugly. “That's reading.”

Reminding myself not to think anything negative, I questioned, “Are you going to explain how?”

“Like I said, it's a mix of viewing and pulling;” she shrugged, as if it were the simplest concept in the world. “You grab what they aren't saying, but instead of watching it, you just pull it to you. Even when they aren't offering it to you,” Mom explained, nodding in a very matter-of-fact way. “So I'm going to think something about you—something I haven't told you. You tell me what I'm thinking.”

I watched her face, concentrating on seeing what she was thinking. Something shimmered over her head. Before it changed or dispersed, I pulled it toward me, hearing her voice inside my head. It scared me at first how clear it was. I took a moment to wonder if my own voice sounded as loudly in her mind as her voice sounded in mine. Tuning back in, I realized her thought was ending and I had missed a huge chunk of it. Replaying it, I didn't know if I would be able to contain myself. It touched me. More so than I thought was possible.

“You mean it?” I asked her.

“What did I think?” she insisted, calm though there was a nervous edge to her voice.

Wiping away a tear that had escaped my eye, I answered, “That leaving Dad and I was the hardest thing you ever had to do, and you're sorry you can't be better all of the time now. That you always wanted to see me, but you never wanted me to see you like—” The words were stuck in my throat before I could finish.

Her thin arms wound around me, pulling me closer to her. She rubbed my back and I knew she meant it, every word. Though the last words were stuck in my throat, her thoughts kept replaying in my mind:

Leaving you and your father was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I'm sorry I can't be well all the time, but I try. I have always wanted to see you grown up, but I never wanted you to see me like this. I must say, though, that I'm proud of you. You've learned a lot, and you've taken care of me. You have exceeded my every hope for you, and I know you'll make a lasting impression on the world, just as you are meant to.

Had anyone else told me that, I doubt it would have moved me so. But, coming from her, my mom, it meant the world.

Vampiric: Chapter Six, Part 2

“Why is it all bluish?” I questioned before realizing I had a different question I wanted an answer to more. “How can I even see it?”

“Well, we’re both connected directly to the air. To you, air appears bluish. I always saw it purplish, though lately it’s been more pinkish, but yeah,” she stopped herself from rambling on. “When you open your mind to it, the air will show you everything that pushes it aside. Of course, whatever color you see the air as is what everything else looks like, so don’t take any bets on what colors the person in the next room is wearing. Unless you get really good. When I was younger, I heard rumors of elementals who could eliminate the bias in their minds and have the air show them whatever color was disrupting them. But that’s just rumor. Never met anyone who could. I tried, though. I think if I keep trying I’ll be able to do it one of these days. Wouldn’t that just be great? To tell what the colors around the world are?”

I laughed. “Around the world is a little ambitious, don’t you think?”

“Nothing is ambitious. Once, when I was really bored, I mapped a cocktail party where they spoke a funny language; they all wore beautiful clothing, even though they were all purplish and everything; and they sounded like chipmunks kind of. It was really entertaining to watch. The better you get the more you can learn, like sounds. Sounds don’t come for a long time, though. When they do, you can hear everything said wherever you’re mapping.”

“What about sending? How does that work?” I pressed, genuinely interested.

“Oh, that’s tricky,” she said, her eyes wide but a note of seriousness still visible. “Both people have to be open, one to send it and the other to receive it. Once they’re both open, the person sending has to convince the air to share in the first place. It takes more time to learn. There’s a lot of sweet talking and even some promises not to abuse it for a while—air is very picky and needs lots of flattering. One day it wouldn't let me at all because the person I was sending to had hurt it really badly recently, so yeah. Okay, I'll get back to it,” she said slightly exasperated. “Anyway, so after you convince the air to allow that kind of transfer of information, all you have to do is will the information or image or whatever it is over to the other person. Of course if you're showing them something at the same time then you have to know how to split your focus so you can do what you want and still send, but that goes without saying.”

“Are you going to teach me that too?”

“Well,” she mused, looking off to the side. “It isn't so easy to teach. For everyone it's different, and it heavily depends on your relationship with the air. I would think the air really likes you; it didn't give me much fuss at all. But you know how now; you'll have to figure the rest out on your own.”

There were more questions, but I could tell her concentration was wearing thin the more she forced herself to stay focused. My questions could wait until later, when she wasn't as worn.

“How many people are in the cell next to ours?” she inquired, her eyes lighting up as though it was a game to her, making it more apparent how quickly I was losing her.

“Which direction?” I asked; I nodded as she pointed to the wall adjacent to the cushioned corner.

Doing as she had shown me, I draped a thin layer of air over the room and then tucked it around the bluish bumps to give them more shape. The room was as bare as ours. A cushioned corner, a barred window, a toilet like thing, and a door. There were three people in the room, one smaller than the others and curled on the cushions in the corner. From all that I could tell, it was a girl and she was asleep, but it might have also been a guy. I didn't want to tuck too close. The other two were adults, a skinny person and the other was heavyset, both may have been either man or woman from my tucking.

“Three people,” I replied.

“Confident enough to figure out their sexes?”

Opening my eyes, I told her honestly, “No. I don't want to be intrusive.”

She enveloped me in her arms. “At least you know how if you need to.”

“If I tucked the air closer, would they be able to tell?” I queried, curious.

“Yes, Sweetie. While mapping itself isn't harmful, it leads to one way you can kill people from a distance. You tuck too close around the head and they choke on the air; there's too much going in and not enough coming out—don't use it to kill, Abriel. Promise me.”

“I promise,” I said, thinking I would never need to. I had no interest in hurting other people, especially not to that extreme. But it didn't matter this advice may never apply to me. It only mattered that for the first time, she was sane enough to give advice. She was okay. Sort of.

“Air gives life and takes it away—like people kind of—but once you abuse your gift to choose for yourself which it is, air never works the same for you again. It holds it against you until you either die or you completely forsake your gifts; don't let it come to that, Abriel, sweetie.”

“I won't, Mom. I promise,” I assured her.

She pulled away from me then, jumping to her feet and skipping around the room, her goofy smile and wide cerulean eyes back. A song dripped from her lips, joyous and childish.

The sudden change left me feeling numb. We had been closer than ever before—reminiscent of a real mother and daughter—and now she was back to how she had been. If anything, I was more upset with myself for forgetting it would end.

Vampiric: Chapter Six, Part 1

Chapter Six: Saving Grace

“How many people are out there?”

I closed my eyes tighter, trying to determine which of the bumpy things were people. “I don’t know,” I replied, sighing heavily, opening my eyes again.

“You do; you’re over thinking it,” Mom insisted. “It’s like someone asking you if you want coffee or tea and you’re trying to figure out what kind of either they’ll give you if you say it.”

“That’s exactly what it’s like,” I mumbled, rolling my eyes. “You ask which are people and not just furniture or whatever. You’re asking me to determine from a bunch of lumps which are living.” I might have snapped a little, which would explain why she was crouching in the corner with her head cradled in her arms. It wasn’t entirely my fault; I was frustrated, and her happy-go-lucky attitude wasn’t helping.

I sighed. “I’m sorry.” It wasn’t like I didn’t want to learn; I did. I just wished I had a more consistently lucid teacher. “Explain it to me again.”

“Okay,” she said, jumping up and springing towards me. Her goofy smile and big eyes were back before she caught herself. Settling before me, she announced, “We’re going to try this another way. I’m going to do it, and try to send, at the same time.”

She reached her hands out, staring at me insistently. I took her hands, deciding to give up trying to understand what we were doing. Maybe she’d be able to teach me how to send later on as well—whatever that was.

“Close your eyes, you need to for now. I don’t have to of course but I’ve been doing it since before you were born, which is what surprised me so much. You hadn’t figured it out and I thought everyone would have known how to—” Mom stopped babbling, her eyes wide in shock at herself. “I’ve gotten really bad at that. I’ll try harder,” she promised, shaking herself. “I haven’t done sending in a while. Mapping is easy, though. That’s how I know when Nick is here. He really is nice. Don’t look at me that way, I was just saying.”

“I’m relaxed, my eyes are closed, and I’m open. What next?” I queried, trying to sound calmer than I felt.

“Give me a moment. I have to remember how to send.”

“Do you have names for all the tricks?”

“Of course. It’s how I tell them apart, silly;” she giggled. “Now I have to concentrate. Shush a moment.”

It was awkward while I waited. I couldn’t recall it ever being quiet when the lights were on. One of us was always talking—me to shush her or her just to be talking. Sitting there in the silence, holding hands, was the strangest and most exhilarating feeling. It had been so long since I had experimented, and even longer since I had learned anything new.

These thoughts of everything weird in the moment were shoved aside as what she was working filled my mind. I watched her drape a thin layer of air over the next room like a picnic blanket. Then she tucked it around the objects in the room, gently, until everything took a bluish shape in my mind. Everything was distinguishable, too—there were two desks complete with chairs, a lamp on one and pictures on another, a coat rack on one wall next to a key rack, and one ceiling light. The light was flickering; I could tell from the way the shade of blue over it changed rapidly. There were two people in the room, I could see that clearly now. One kicked back in a chair reading a periodical, the other treading slowly toward the key rack, saying something I couldn’t make out.

“Two people,” I said aloud, opening my eyes to her sparkling ones.

“Good job.”

Vampiric: Chapter Five, Part 4

 “Using that line on me, now?” His crooked smile twisted his lips.

“Of course,” I teased back, the tears successfully kept at bay.

“Glad you haven't lost your touch; you were starting to look too serious there for a moment.”

“We all change for what life has planned for us,” I said, inwardly cringing at how much I sounded like Drei and Valetta, even Mitchell on the odd occasion.

“So you aren't all fun and games anymore?”

“If I remember right, you were never all fun and games.” I smiled at him through the dimness.

“Ah,” he sighed, “the truth comes out.”

“Don't you wish life could just return to the way it was?”

“Before I met you, or after?”

“Before...well, I don't know.” I had meant the question for him, but somehow it felt like he had turned it back to me. “My life before you wasn't as glam as the movies make it out to be, and life with you was an emotional mess—”

“Thanks.”

“Not just because of you,” I added, grinning despite myself. “But life after wasn't that great either.”

“So when is your life going to balance out?”

Sighing, I gazed across the room to where Mom lay, sleeping and probably dreaming of Dad. Her life was probably great before me, but maybe not. Were we both destined to have lives full of disasters? Or was that just mine, and, before she ended up here, her life was great?

As he always had, Nick waited patiently for my response. The problem was I didn't have an answer for him. It apparently wouldn't be better now, and it obviously wouldn't be better once I left that place since that dratted sinking feeling still hadn't gone completely away. But there had to be a time when it would be better. Right?

“When I know, I'll tell you.”

“And if it never comes…”

“I have to believe it will come.”

“Why, though?”

“Because. I gave up believing you were still alive, and here you are. I nearly gave up finding my mom, and even though it's not how I wanted to find her, I found her. Before all of that, I had given up on ever being with Drei, and even though you can't really say we're together, it's closer than I had ever hoped. Every time I give up on believing, it happens to spite me,” I said, fully realizing how true it was. “So even if one of these days I do stop believing I'll ever find contentment in life, I know I will somewhere along the line.”

“You always were good at talking,” he teased, nudging me with his shoulder lightly. “But I see your point.”

“Do you ever get tired of joking?” I asked, gazing steadily at him again. His eyes wouldn't meet mine and I knew he didn't have an answer that was serious—not right away, anyway.

“Yeah, I do,” he admitted after a moment. “I hated having to joke the last time I saw you. I really wanted to be serious, but I knew that would be harder on you, so I did it for you.”

“Why haven't you stopped?”

“I did;” he met my gaze, a sadness dimming the light in his eyes. “I hadn't joked with anyone since that day—until today.”

“Then why did you start again if you didn't want to?” I had a feeling I knew the answer, but I didn’t want that to be it.

“Because I still love you, Abriel. And Drei doesn't have much of a sense of humor; and when I saw you tonight, you looked so much older than I remembered…like you were carrying the weight of the world. I just wanted to hear you laugh again, to see you smile.”

“You don't have to change for me,” I whispered, feeling tears press at my eyes again.

“I don't have to, but I want to. For you, I don't mind it.”

“Nick.” Was he trying to make me cry? Seriously. No matter how star-crossed it might have been, some small part of me was wishing we could have worked out.

“You don't have to say anything.”

I couldn’t understand why he was doing this, despite my knowing the answers. It was hitting me so much more than I had thought possible and I was certain I didn’t have the willpower to stop myself crying this time; it was so hard. My chest felt tight and my breath caught every time I tried to calm myself.

 “I love you, too.”

“I know,” he said, pulling me into his arms. As much as he had grown up, his arms were one place that managed to still be the same. “That's why I don't mind changing for you. No matter how much more you love him, I know you still love me.”

I sat curled in his arms for the longest time. We didn't say anything else. But for the first time since I had left the darkness that I could remember, I fell asleep. He held me through my silent tears, stroking my hair as he had done so many times before, rocking me gently. For a moment, we weren't the adults we had grown into; we were those teenaged youth back at camp, trying to find normality in a place where none existed. The last thing I remembered was a kiss on the forehead.

When I woke up, my mom was rocking me gently, stroking my hair and seemingly lucid. She smiled her goofy smile, but her cerulean eyes weren't as wide as they had been.

“Where's Nick?”

“Gone. He went off his shift forever ago. But he said he loved you and he'd see you in a week; for all we know that's tonight or a couple days away.” She shrugged.

“What changed?” I wasn’t sure what had happened while I was asleep, but I knew something had. She was being altogether too normal, considering her usual state.

“Nick talked to me before he left. He told me I had to try extra hard to be like I was. To be calm and focused,” she said, bobbing her head up and down in emphasis.

“Why, though?” I shook my head—it was throbbing from constantly trying to understand and accommodate the ever mounting influx of information; her sudden change in behavior was not helping.

“Because I have a lot to teach you. Uh-huh. A lot for you to learn about being you before he comes.”

“Before Nick comes? What?”

“No silly;” she clucked her tongue at me, then stopped mid-cluck as she remembered what she had promised Nick. “When your he comes. Nick said your he would come even though mine didn't. I don't remember what the name was though.” She tapped her chin with a slender finger as she tried to remember.

“Drei?” I offered, my voice dripping with the hope she had been discouraging since we met.

Her features lit up excitedly. “Drei, that's it. You're really good at that. When Drei comes.”

Vampiric: Chapter Five, Part 3

I guessed Nick had turned down the lights since it was back to that barely visible glimmer. Mom was curled in the corner, safe in the arms of sleep. It had taken a while to talk her down from her mutterings but she was quiet now. Sitting opposite her, she looked peaceful, almost normal. Her breathing was regular; her face was fittingly mature while still managing to be angelically beautiful.

The door swung open in the corner of my eye. I pretended not to notice; I still wasn't sure if I was ready to face him yet. After presuming him dead, I had stopped contemplating what I would say when I saw him again.

“Never thought I'd see you here,” he whispered, slipping down along the wall beside me.

“I could say the same of you.”

“You said as much. But you—”

“I was supposed to come here,” I interrupted, still unsure if I could look him in the eyes. “To see her and…I guess, to see you.”

“That's screwed up;” he shook his head.

“Welcome to my life.”

Neither of us said anything. The silence embraced us and stole any thoughts to start another strand of conversation.

“I missed you like crazy,” Nick said, breaking the silence. He turned his jade eyes on me.

Words refused to come or, more accurately, my mind refused to let my mouth say anything. It was too dangerous and I didn't know what would happen. My heart was still with Drei, but Drei wasn’t there. I couldn’t be sure I was a strong enough person to resist changing my dependency. Part of me wanted to, though. It would be easy to succumb to my fate and take comfort where I could.

“You'd probably be happy to know I've accepted the fact I’ll never be number one in your heart. I'm with Lily now. But no one can know. You should understand better than anyone.”

“I do.” I nodded, turning my head in his direction. “So that's what happened to her? She just left and Drei never told anyone.”

“Really? I figured everyone knew; then again, it's probably better they don't. I kind of like living,” he said jokingly, though we both knew it was probably more true than we wanted to admit. “How's Drei doing?”

“As he always is. The last time I saw him anyway.” Before horrible thoughts and images could flood my mind, I turned my attention to other things—like Mom and what she looked like sleeping. I couldn’t think about how Drei was doing. Not without risking my emotions and sanity.

“That would be two and a half months ago, in case you were wondering.”

“I was, actually.” I met his gaze for the first time. It wasn’t how I had feared it would be; his eyes were still bright jade and kind, but we both knew our time was past. “How long have I been here?”

“About two weeks according to the system.”

“Why don't I remember any of that time?” Burying my head in my hands, I tried to recall noticing some difference. It didn't feel like two weeks had passed. But if not two weeks, I didn’t know how long. Time didn’t seem to exist there; not for me.

“That's just what made her lose it,” he said, a large hand resting comfortingly on my shoulder. “You don't notice a difference. It just feels like the same stretch of day lasting forever. They put something in the food so you feel full longer and don’t notice the time between meals as much. We're also only allowed to turn down these lights every week or so to throw you off even more. Most people still sleep regularly through the light, though.”

“I never was one for sleeping,” I said, pulling my face from my hands. I could do this; I could deal with being here—especially with both of them. I just had to take it in stride, to remind myself I could handle it.

“And once they hit where your mom is, they don't sleep much either.”

“Why is this the first time we've noticed each other?”

“Well,” he said, stretching his legs in front of him, “probably because the last time I came in here you were sleeping or, probably more likely, pretending to be asleep. I don't blame you; if I were you I would’ve pretended too. But that and then I only work by myself on the nights we turn off the lights. All the other nights someone else is here to do rounds.”

“More people sleep with the lights off so—that makes sense.”

He nodded. After another stretch of silence, he asked, “Why are you avoiding any mention of us?”

My head shook, a shiver running down my spine suddenly. I hadn’t thought much about us other than to keep Mom busy. It wasn’t like I had worked out scenarios for our reunion or the absolute perfect thing to say to make everything better. “I don't have anything to say.”

“That's obviously a lie since you were telling your mom stories.” I could hear the smile in his voice—that crooked smile with a hint of mischief.

“You want me to say something about us?” I asked, tersely without completely meaning to be. “I missed you. I clung to everything as long as I could until I had nothing left to cling to except Drei, and even him I couldn't hold onto. I left the camp, tried to live normally, but that was ruined. I didn't trust myself after you;” the threat of tears made my chest feel tight. “Nightmares of another unexpected bounty hunter plagued any sleep I managed to snatch. Holding a job was work for me. I had to fight every instinct to quit and give up altogether. If it hadn't been for Drei, I never would have gone out; I never would have left that stupid apartment for anything more than working.

“But he insisted I go out with him,” I continued, the sadness receding slightly. “And though I never got over my fear, I managed to hold it together long enough to enjoy something. To let my hair down and dance. To forget for a time that Drei and I couldn't be together.” I forced myself to breathe slowly and deeply, to keep the tears and the hysteria building in my chest at bay. “You changed the way I saw the world, Nick. I know with you, I was lucky. If it had been any other bounty hunter, we all would have been too deep to save ourselves; and that's what scares me. You were my one chance to learn. The next time, I won't be as lucky.”

“Obviously not, since you ended up here,” he said, trying to lighten my mood. It didn't help.

“I'm not here because of bounty hunters.” I glanced at him just long enough to see his slight attempt at joking change into confusion. “I'm here because I took one for the team.”

“What team?”

“Not tonight, or whatever time of day it is. I can't now.”

“Then when?”

I held his gaze for the longest time, trying to figure out what would be a safe time to promise, but there wasn’t any plausibly good time I could think of. “After it's over.”

“And if you aren't around?”

I cringed at the painful reminder. “Ask Drei.”

Vampiric: Chapter Five, Part 2

I found that by telling her about my childhood, I could keep her satisfied and quiet. Though the wide eyes were still childish, I could ignore them and forget the insanity plaguing her by looking elsewhere, or convincing the memories to come alive for me. Occasionally she would interject with questions or memories of her own which I listened to carefully, soaking them up when something useful came to light. There wasn't much that wasn't useless babble or vaguely related train of thought.

When I ran out of stories about Dad and growing up, I started on stories about my first year at the safe camp Drei took me to. I didn't tell her they were real. She didn't need to know, and she was quieter thinking they were fairy tales or something. Unless she asked, I wouldn't tell her otherwise.

I was afraid she would ask when I started crying while telling her about how Nick—the boy who didn't belong there (whom I had wanted to stay), but was willing to give up anything to fix the trouble he had caused—had said goodbye to me. He tried to make it easy on both of us, but there's no such thing when you love someone. Though my love for him was nothing in comparison to my love for Drei, saying goodbye was one of the hardest things I’d had to do. He had promised we would see each other again, but he’d never said when. As time progressed, I had given up hoping.

Nick was a bounty hunter, charged with finding and turning in elementals to places like this. He had helped us escape, and no one knew what had happened to him because of it. I didn't have eternity—as Drei and Valetta so frequently reminded me—to wait for him to show up again.

“He sounds as nice as the one night guard,” she said excitedly.

Wiping away my tears, I looked at her, wondering if I should tell her she was wrong. More than likely, Nick was dead and he had lied again, hoping to soften the blow of completely losing him with fanciful wishing. As little credit as it seemed, it wasn’t entirely unlikely. It seemed very much like him if it meant diverting or lessening pain.

Something in my stomach was heavy. It took me a moment to realize relinquishing hope was the reason my mom had lost it in the first place. No matter how bleak everything seemed, I had to keep holding on to it. Even if, in some cases, it wasn’t logical to keep hoping anymore.

“Did she ever see him again?”

I stared at her, her wide eyes sparkling and joyous for no reason. That joy caused a seed of resentment, but I kept my negativity to myself. “Not yet.”

She was quiet a moment, staring past me, before jumping up and down in her giddy way, saying, “The night guard I told you about is coming tonight.”

“How do you know?”

Ty rolled her huge eyes at me. “You don't know? It's one of the most useful tricks in the history of ever!”

I wondered if my mother—my adoptive mother—had ever felt the same way I did now. It was almost like a slap in the face, but on a completely different level.

“He's coming!” she squealed, dashing over to the door and straightening out her wrinkled sun dress.

“Who?” I was lost in her stream of bubbling remarks and forgot my momentary pain at being insulted. She could be worse than a brook or a spring some times. I didn't know how long I had been here, but so long as she was making noise, it seemed closer to forever.

“The night guard,” she hissed, turning to face me briefly. “The nice one.”

The door swung open further than the person the night before—if it really had been just last night—had opened it as I stood. There was the darkness again, spilling into the room, but this time a shadow was stepping forth from it. The light peeled away the shadows hiding the figure, revealing a man in his twenties with bright jade eyes and a chiseled face, shadows softening his jaw line; his pine colored hair was crew cut short though it didn’t seem to fit him. His eyes sparkled at my mom as he greeted her, not seeing me.

“Good evening, Ty. How have you been?” he asked in a familiar, playful tone.

“I've been ever so wonderful,” she said, spinning, trying to keep her eyes on him. “My daughter even got in a pinch of trouble;” she giggled secretively, holding her thumb and forefinger close together.

“How would you know?” he teased easily, an eyebrow cocked and his lips curved in crooked grin. “What have you been up to, Ty?”

“Nothing, I swear.” Her eyes grew large again and she crossed her heart. “She's here.”

His eyes followed her accusing finger and met mine. My breath caught as it dawned on me exactly who he was and why he was so familiar.

Tears flooded my eyes and I fought them back, trying to grasp onto something, anything that would make sense. He wasn't supposed to be here. She wasn't supposed to be like this. And I couldn't think of one sane thing to say to him as he stood, realization dawning over his features, his jaw dropping.

“Abriel,” he whispered, making any doubt in my mind dissipate.

A sad smile spread across my lips, a few tears crawling down my cheeks. “Nick.”

My mom looked from him, to me, back to him. “Is he the Nick from the story?” she questioned, sounding perfectly sane for the first time since she had pulled me from the darkness.

“Story?” he asked, his eyes finding her again.

“Yes,” I replied, nearly choking on the word. How could I have given up hope on seeing him again? It seemed ludicrous now that he was standing there. I had been an idiot to think he had lied.

My mom whipped her wide eyes on me. “Then you're the girl;” she faced him again. “And you saved her—and hurt her—and—and…” she stumbled for the rest of her thought, fighting against the deterioration of her brain.

I went to her, pulling her small, flighty form into my arms.

“You should go,” I said to Nick without facing him. “This isn't good for her.”

“And what about you?” he asked, reaching to put a hand on my shoulder.

My head whipped around, his hand freezing inches away. “I don't know how to answer that.” My eyes watched his hand; it was safer than meeting his eyes. “I spent the last few years thinking you had lied to me and were dead.”

“Well, I'm not dead,” he offered, shrugging in his signature way. Even working in a place like this he still managed to be almost too relaxed and way too cocky. If my mind hadn’t been reeling, I probably would have smiled and told him so. But that wasn’t the case.

“No, you aren't.”

Mom started babbling in my arms again, trying to finish what she had started to say earlier. Repeating her last few words until even those escaped her and she started bubbling forth a string of disconnected words.

“I'll come back later…before my shift is up.”

I had already disengaged myself from our conversation, trying to shush my mom into sleep. It was impossible for me to deal with Nick and my mom simultaneously; as he wasn't my fellow cellmate, he'd have to wait.