Eternal: Epilogue

Epilogue: Beginning Eternity

Years ago, Valetta had asked me how I imagined my dream life. When I had closed my eyes, I saw a life I wanted, but didn’t think I could ever have. And yet, here I am, with Drei, living in a two story beach house on a lake in a forest. Almost exactly as I had described.

Drei’s sisters had been buried in that single grave I had found. He paid to have them exhumed and cremated, bringing their ashes back with us. The urns had a room they shared with other memories, fond and painful. Pictures, news clippings, items that held special meaning—including the rocking chair Drei had found all those years ago, a maternal family heirloom of mine.

Another special place Drei and I had set up, though I had been reluctant at first, was a garden. It wasn’t like his original, left behind and untended at the original safe camp, but it was a close second. We didn’t have to build a greenhouse, as there was an atrium that essentially functioned as one. Together, we worked to find the right combination and proportions of flowers with the initial goal of replicating the scent still following him around. After a while, Drei and I both decided it shouldn’t be a replica because the original had been a solution to his pain and a gift to me, his love. He suggested I take more creative control over its composition as I was now in need of channeling pain. I didn’t argue, and it wasn’t long after I started feeling better. There was something about catering to life that balanced a loss of it.

Kneeling by the water, I set some blossoms floating into the center of the lake. My yearly ritual, because I didn’t have an urn or a grave to send them to. The lake is the second best thing to him, as it is where we first met and where most of our happiest memories were. It is also where he made his first sacrifice for us.

I brush the tears from my eyes, wondering, not for the first time, if I’ll ever be able to stop crying for him.

“Abriel,” Drei calls from behind me.

I watch the blossoms for a moment more before turning to jog up the stairs to the balcony off our room where he waits. Where he has waited every year on this day.

“Beautiful flowers you chose this year,” he says, opening his arms to me.

“Thank you.” The sadness dissipats again, waiting for next year. Tending a garden really minimized my sadness surrounding the event to the point I only felt it deeply once a year. And like clockwork, it’s back on this day; I wake up with it and that’s how I know to go to the garden and pick whichever flowers speak to me for my annual visitation. “Why does it feel like it hurts more every year?” I ask, gazing out at the small specks on the calm surface of the water.

“Because it is another year you have lived without him,” he replies gently, rubbing my back. “And another year you realize he will not return to say hello.”

There’s a truth to his words, more truth than I want to admit. It is the first year I have asked, and I can’t believe he’s hit on it so well. No matter what had happened, Nick had always popped up somewhere else, smiling, calming me, apologizing for something or another from the time before. Subconsciously, I think I’m still waiting for him to show up and apologize for scaring me so badly.

“Nick is not coming back this time,” Drei whispers. I appreciate his honesty; it’s the only way I’m going to stop crying on this day. And I know that. But some part of me, somewhere deep in my heart, doesn’t want to stop hoping, even if I know I should.

“I added the angel and the guardian to our memories room,” I say, changing the subject. Although they have been available for some time now, Drei has avoided adding them to our collection. I decided to correct the oversight.

“At least it is not a doll;” he smirks and I hit him lightly on the arm. He is never going to let that one die. Though he continues to smile, his eyes darken a little, growing more serious. “There is one thing you have yet to ask me.”

The sky begins to lighten with the coming dawn as I try to think of what he means. When it strikes me, I know why I hadn’t remembered. I haven’t thought about it in years, and now I might finally have the answer I have been wanting since Drei first mentioned it.

“Do you think you have fulfilled your promise to the Lady of the Moon?”

“I strive to deserve your love every day,” he says softly, holding my gaze steadily, his amethyst eyes bright and resolute. “And I will never deserve it until I strive every day hereafter.”

“There is no one else I would rather spend my eternity with,” I confide before he kisses me.

A light crosses the forest and we stop, stepping into our room and closing the French doors. It is my first sunrise since I had a pulse. Most of them before now I had slept through, but not today.

“You know, if we ever grow tired of forever, I could change that,” I remind him, resting my head on his chest.

“I do not imagine I will grow tired of spending my un-life with you, Abriel,” he says as the first rays of dawn fill the room.

I miss it, though, because I’m looking at him, and all of the promises that fill his eyes. Eternity is a long time, but he silently promises he will love me everlastingly; and by the way he kisses me, I can tell he knows the same is true of me.

Eternal: Chapter Nine, Part 1

Chapter Nine: Reason to Stay

Good news met me upon my return. The commercial was a success. Within the first 24 hours the website had several thousand hits. That turned into several hundred million after a week’s time. Mikael and Xenia added a comments section to the site after the first day; while some people insisted we were crazy, insane, needed to be locked up for life, there were even more who asked what it was like, how did it feel. They believed; even if there was only a hint of belief, it was enough.

Drei, still worried about me—never straying too far, always looking over his shoulder, watching for signs that something was happening again—and wouldn’t let me hold a group meeting to discuss our budding success and the next set of commercials. If he could have, I think he may have swept me away somewhere new to hopefully forget about everything again—likely a better option than fighting himself. Time and second chances weren’t luxuries we had, though; he eventually compromised on individual meetings with my team.

Caroline was first because she had demanded it. I needed to talk to Ian about the next set of commercials, but there wasn’t a point in arguing.

“Missed you at the party,” she said, sitting down across from me in the living room. “What happened?”

“Long story;” I hoped she would drop it. “I’m better now.”

“Well, at least you’re better.” She waited a moment as though vainly hoping the silence would drive me to reveal my secrets. “Anyway, you saw the numbers, right?”

“Most of them,” I said, nodding toward my notebook. “You won’t show me how much you’re paying for everything.”

Smirking, she said, “Good. That’s how I wanted it. And…we’re ahead of schedule;” she crossed her legs and leaned forward on her elbows. “So we only have two more rounds of commercials and two more additions to the website left before we go live.”

“We’re not going live with broadcasts; we’re going live—”

“As in speaking publicly,” she finished, waving a hand to the side. “I remember. More my point was, with a website, we could put together mini broadcasts that people could download for free. That way people who can’t see either of us speak can still know what’s going on.”

“I’ll talk to Mikael and Xenia about it.” I liked the idea; I had already planned to discuss making the commercials available on the site with them, and this tied rather nicely into that. My primary goal with the website was to keep the message accessible, especially as it evolved.

“Also, did you plan on keeping the apartment as your office?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Shrugging, she replied, “Nothing wrong with it. I was just wondering.”

“You didn’t buy something, did you?”

Caroline stood, denying it. I couldn’t help but feel she had, or was looking to, at least. “I’d best be going,” she said, giving me a hug before heading toward the door. “I’ll see if I can find any of my old research and bring it over. You can look through and see if anything’s useful,” she explained over her shoulder. “Take care, Abs.”

“You, too.”

I was surprised Caroline hadn’t thrown a fit, but that might have been because she’d already thrown it to Drei or someone else. She was behaving strangely, though, more secretive than usual; she also didn’t try to make me talk about it like she usually would have. How much did Drei tell everyone, if anything at all? Or was this something else entirely?

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 Four, Part 1

Chapter Four: Light My Fire

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll just get something—”

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

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

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

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

“She what?” I asked gently. “Died?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eternal: Chapter One, Part 2

It was wonderful being away from the apartment. My element picked up on everything around us: the wild party-goers; the happily drunk couples; the families leaving the movie in the park, babbling excitedly; the varying conversations of people leaving the visiting comedian; and so on. I was ecstatic to be surrounded and filled with the sounds of life again, even more so now because I was fully aware of my connection to the air element; we were far more intertwined than I had known while alive.

“Are you pleased?”

“Very much so,” I said, unable to stop smiling. Now that he had turned me, it didn’t matter who knew we were together. Of course, we would eventually have to face the Vampire Council, considering he wasn’t supposed to turn me in the first place, but I forsook that train of thought. Right now, his hand was in mine, we were outside, and that was all that mattered.

“How are you doing?” His eyes scanned me nervously, as though afraid I would fall into a million pieces if the breeze so much as shifted direction.

Nudging him with my shoulder, I assured him I was fine. “I feel better than I have in a long time.”

Smiling and looking at me as though I was the only person he could see, he said, “I am glad.”

It amazed me how much my element was absorbing. I felt connected to Drei, to his every available thought and motion, as well as to everyone else if I paid enough attention. How much I had changed hadn’t occurred to me until then. Before I might have wanted to shut it all out and just be with myself; but I had been with myself long enough and the lively change was more than welcome.

“I love the night,” I said, needing to express some of the happiness bubbling inside me.

“You used to love the day,” he said, almost forlornly.

“I know;” I gazed up at him, my free hand pushing some of his shaggy brown hair behind his ear. “But I can’t have the day.”

“No, you cannot.”

“So I’ll love what I can have.”

“That is a good way to live.”

“Not always. Sometimes that’s just settling.”

“This is true. But if you settle for nothing, you lose a lot.”

“Now you’re just trying to sound smart.”

“Perhaps.” He smiled down at me, his pale amethyst eyes sparkling. I found myself kissing him in the middle of the sidewalk. His arms pulled me closer to him for a moment before he seemed to remember we were in public. Grinning, he pulled away from me. “This is not the place,” he said gently.

“I couldn’t help myself.” I honestly couldn’t. The other part of me—the vampiric essence now a part of my being—had been tempted and had very little restraint.

“You will learn to control it,” Drei said, slipping his hand into mine again as we continued on our promenade. “It will take some time, though.”

“Everything takes time.” I was almost sick of hearing the phrase and its variations. It seemed like all I had heard the past six years. My patience was quickly, and understandably, wearing thin.

“The only person you are waiting on anymore is you;” he glanced at me, and I knew I had been thinking too loudly again. “So what plans are you making to start?”

Shrugging, I said, “I haven’t been able to think much on it lately. I’ve been too distracted.”

“What by?”

“Being outside again;” I grinned sheepishly. “But I think the first move to make is gathering those who are going to help me the most.”

“Such as…”

“You know. Don’t pretend you don’t.”

He smirked. “I do know.”

“So if I forget anyone, you’d better tell me so.”

“Of course.”

We turned into the park in silence. It was pleasant, and there were fewer people around so it felt almost like an exciting secret. Kind of like we could hide each other from the world and always be together. Especially since the sounds of the city fell away in the park, replaced with the rustling of leaves, the sighing of flowers, and the whistling of a warm spring breeze. The ambiance was soothing and seemed to carry away even Drei’s worries. I couldn’t recall ever feeling him so relaxed; it seemed he was always stressed by one thing or another.

When we returned to the apartment, it seemed entirely too soon, like we had barely been away. Drei explained the sun would be rising shortly when I raised the complaint. He wouldn’t say if we could have stayed longer had it still been night for a few more hours. Instead, he suggested I change for bed—arguing I had tired myself out with excitement—and wouldn’t listen when I insisted I wasn’t at all tired.

After changing into one of the long satin nightgowns Drei had bought for me recently—he had taken to showering me with gifts, either out of remorse or in an attempt to placate me—I returned to the living room. He sat, reading one of his magazines, completely engrossed.

“Are you joining me?” I asked, curling up beside him and resting my chin on his shoulder.

Drei dog-eared his page and dropped the magazine on the coffee table. He turned to face me and kissed my nose. “If I sleep now, I will miss something very important.”

“Like what?”

His fingers brushed the hair out of my face, tucking it behind an ear. “Such as the call I am supposed to receive this morning.”

“From whom?”

“You will see soon enough,” he replied, his hand traveling down my bare arm and stopping on my forearm. He lifted my arm so he could examine it while attempting—and failing—to conceal his amazement.

“What is it?”

“This is the arm you burned, correct?”

“Yes,” I said slowly.

“When did you heal?”

Shrugging, I pulled my arm away from him and crossed it over my chest. “I don’t know. Probably during our walk.”

“Are you hungry at all, before you go to bed?”

I failed to see the connection between the two but answered, “No.”

“Not in the least?”

“Not at all, Drei,” I said, knowing it was weird as I used to feel hungry most of the time and just learned to ignore it. But I felt completely sated. It was strange, but I wasn’t going to pay it any mind. For the first time in almost a year, I wasn’t hungry; I counted myself lucky.

“That is not at all like you,” he said, regarding me carefully. “You are certain?”

“Yes. What does this have to with my arm, though?”

“I cannot be sure,” he said, though the set of his jaw revealed he was determined to find out. He didn’t like mysteries any more than I did; the only difference being Drei was allowed to know the answers and I had to find them myself.

Deciding the mystery wasn’t worth it—I was healed, that couldn’t be a bad thing even if it was puzzling—I stood, pulling gently on his hand. “If you won’t sleep yet, will you at least lie next to me until I do?”

“You have become very demanding lately,” Drei observed, standing and following me into his room—where I had been sleeping since my awakening. We still hadn’t been together past kissing, but we were both fine with that.

“Not really; I’ve only asked you for two things.”

“And what message do I send if I continue to give you everything for which you ask?”

“You love me;” I snuggled into his embrace, my previous energy quickly slipping away.

“That I do.”

“And I love you,” I added, yawning.

He kissed the top of my head, tangling a hand comfortingly in my hair, the other pulling me closer to him. “I know you do.”

Eternal: Chapter One, Part 1

Chapter One: Change Comes Swiftly

A sliver of sunlight spilled into the room, illuminating the dark space. It was strange seeing sunlight after having hidden from it for so long. Drei said it was because I wasn’t ready yet; he explained we could handle it indirectly in small doses. I wasn’t strong enough, though, and he never said why not. He seemed afraid to admit it, some days, and ignored my questions.

Outside, it was a beautiful day. I could hear the people on the street, their bustling footsteps hurrying past. A few birds flew overhead, disturbed from their previous perches and searching for new ones. Some corner musicians sang their hearts out, trying to make their dreams come true. There were even a few children, gawking in amazement or boredom at the scenes around them while parents pulled them along.

Listening made me miss the world. It felt like it had been forever since I had been part of it. For almost a year—including my time in transition and healing—this apartment had been my universe, and Drei the only other person in it. I loved him, and I was grateful for the extension he had given me, but I wanted more now. I wanted to smell the air, as polluted as it may be; I wanted to feel the breeze wrap around me, and the earth beneath my bare feet; I wanted to see and experience life again. I had been such a fool for ever wanting anything else.

“Come away from the window, Abriel.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Drei, dressed in his usual black. One of his hands was buried in his pocket, the other lay offered to me. Letting the curtain fall closed again, I walked to him, taking his hand. His other hand gingerly touched my arm, and I noticed the skin was riddled with boils and blackened spots. Even noticing it now, it didn’t hurt. I was mostly curious how it had happened, and why.

“You burned yourself,” he whispered, his amethyst eyes fixated on the damage. “This is why I asked you to keep from the windows.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked, unsure what he wasn’t saying. Something unnerved him about my being injured but I couldn’t understand what, despite trying to; he kept his thoughts well guarded from my prying.

“You should sleep,” he said instead, kissing my forehead. “Sleep will help you heal.”

I decided not to press him; I’d figure it out sooner or later. Besides, when it came to sleep, that was one argument I could never win. Not with Drei.

She should be strong enough indirect sunlight is harmless, I caught him thinking as I made my way to the bed. It made sense he’d worry about something like that. I had a movement to lead still, and I needed some strength to do so. If his thoughts were any indication, I wasn’t much stronger than I had been since healing from the shooting a few months ago, and that was only enough to venture beyond the bedroom.

“I’ll sleep if you promise to take me walking tonight,” I bargained, pulling back the covers and sitting down. “I haven’t been outside in forever.”

He nodded, coming to the bed. “We shall see.”

“No, you have to promise me,” I said; I wasn’t compromising on this. I needed to be out of this apartment before I went insane. “Or I’ll stand in the window again.”

“You know that will not improve your health,” he chided gently, smiling, trying to make light of the situation.

“Nothing does.” I turned my back to him. What harm could a midnight walk do? There wasn’t any sun then and, if I started feeling weak, it wasn’t like carrying me had ever been a problem for him.

His fingers brushed my hair back, an attempt to coax me into a better mood. He knew, though, it was futile. I could match him in stubbornness. Sighing, he yielded; “Very well. We can go walking tonight.”

Turning back to him, I kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

“I just hope—”

“It’s not too soon,” I said, slipping my hand into his. “I need to leave this place for a little while. This apartment cannot be my entire world.”

Kissing my hand, he suggested I sleep then. A moment later, he slipped into the bed next to me, wrapping me in his arms and kissing the top of my head. I closed my eyes, comfortable and content. While worry thickened the air around him, the sensation was dulled by my own anticipation and excitement.

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 3

It felt almost like the air had been sucked from my lungs. None of this was making the least bit of sense and it was starting to unnerve me. Why couldn’t he just come out and say whatever it was he was avoiding? He wasn’t making anything better or easier. It only seemed to be messier and more puzzling.

“I don’t understand,” I conceded slowly, hoping against odds the answer would come before he said it. His hesitancy was making me fear it, whatever it was.

“I lost my sisters, and it nearly ruined me,” he whispered. “I could not imagine what losing you would be like, and I never wanted to know.”

“Drei…what did you do?”

He stood, my slipping from his as though he had forgotten it was there, and started pacing along the foot of the bed. “What I did is unforgivable and I understand if you loathe me,” he said, refusing to look at me. “I never wished my fate on anyone—least of all you…but I cannot undo what has been done.”

“What did—” It clicked. I had changed, but I hadn’t died. Not entirely. “You turned me,” I whispered, not sure how I felt about it. On one hand, it meant I could be with Drei and it was considerably more difficult for me to die. It also meant I hadn’t failed yet. But on the other, it meant facing the Council, for they would know eventually. It meant never growing old or living a full life. Would I be able to have children if I wanted them?

“I could not imagine living without you longer than I had already,” he murmured, his pacing stopped but his gaze hidden in shame.

I stood—or tried to, I should say—to go to him, instead bringing him to me as my legs crumpled under my weight. “You are still suffering side effects,” he explained, helping me into bed again. “You will be weak for a while, until your body adjusts. It doesn’t help you were injured when I—” The sentence completed itself, despite my fogginess. “Your wounds are healed, however,” he offered hopefully.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I said, “I love you, Drei. Nothing, not even this, can change that.”

“Not even the way I treated you?”

“I never stopped loving you.”

“Neither I you.” He held me in his arms, the embrace familiar but strange. If anything, it was more powerful, strengthened by his relief and our former separation.

Then the moment was ruined by me and my newly acquired thirst. He laughed uneasily, though he tried to feign lightheartedness. He left briefly and returned with a mug of warm, dark liquid. “Animal blood,” he offered.

“Do I have to?” My stomach felt sickened by the thought as my mouth watered for it.

“You will grow accustomed to it.”

“I don’t believe you.” I held out against drinking it a while longer before thirst won out. Surprisingly, I wasn’t tempted to gag at the coppery liquid. If anything, I wanted more. But Drei said I needed to learn to curb my thirst early on before I began experiencing blood lust. I wasn’t strong enough to press the issue.

“You need more sleep,” he insisted, setting the empty mug on the bedside table. “That is the only way to regain your strength.”

“You’re always telling me to sleep,” I teased, lying down again, exhaustion washing over me.

“Because you seldom tell yourself,” he replied, grinning, his fingertips gliding down my scar-less arm. I closed my eyes, enjoying his touch, soaking it up after having longed for it.

“Thank you,” I whispered, feeling myself drift off.

“Do not thank me for my selfishness,” he murmured softly into my ear as he lay beside me.

I thought about telling him how unselfish he had been. His motive was selfish, but in retrospect, he had done so much. He had given me the deepest secret he had as well as bought me more time to figure things out. He had saved me from failing, and no one else could have given me that. No one.

Vampiric: Chapter Ten, Part 6

By mid-April, Caroline had deemed me emotionally stable enough to move out if I wanted. At the risk of sounding unappreciative, I had to admit I was more than ready to do so. We had already toured a few apartments on the upper side of town, at her insistence. What I wanted to see was apartments on the older side of town, though. I wanted the old brick building with no elevator—as crazy as she claimed it to be.

“This is it?” she asked uneasily, finding the building without much trouble. We had just finished at the spa, using our Christmas gifts for much needed relaxation.

“This is it,” I confirmed. I adored it from the outside with its old redbrick and traces of climbing ivy. The windows were shiny as though newly replaced, but the front door had seen better days; the stoop was narrow, but provided enough shelter if you needed to open an umbrella before stepping out.

“There’s not even a park nearby,” she complained, still trying to convince me to stay on her side of town. “And parking is ridiculous.”

“I don’t drive,” I said as she turned the corner, finally finding a space.

“But I do.”

Smiling, I said, “It’s not going to be your apartment.”

“That’s not what you’re going to say when you find out the bathroom is in the kitchen.”

“You’ve been watching too many old movies.” This apartment was at the top of my list and I could hardly wait to see it.

“Slow down,” she called after me.

Glancing over my shoulder, I told her, “No. You hurry up.”

The apartment I was looking at was on the fifth floor, and Caroline had plenty to say about that as well. The landlady was waiting inside for us, opening curtains and windows. Though the space was devoid of furniture, it was amazing and beautiful. The living room had hardwood floors and was spacious for as old as the building was. Off to the side was the kitchenette, complete with stove, refrigerator, and microwave. There was even a pantry disguised as a closet. The bedroom was on the opposite side. It was small, but workable, and the closet space was well worth it; the walls were a beautiful shade of pale violet and the floors were hardwood as well—I’d need to buy some throw rugs. Next to the bedroom, also accessible from the living room was the one bathroom. It was also a fabulous size considering I was the only one I had to worry about really using it. There was even baby blue tiling on the floor and in the shower.

I was in love. No matter how many things Caroline counted as negatives, it was all I wanted. The landlady admitted it was actually a little above the price range I had been looking for when I spoke with her on the phone, but it was all inclusive so my utilities would be on at move-in without any work on my part.

“Of course,” I said, still taking it all in. Something about the space just felt right. It felt like what I needed to move on completely.

 “Are you sure?” Caroline asked, still pouting a little. “You’d need to hire a super cleaning crew to get all of the dirt out of this place.”

“You’re one to talk,” I replied, grinning. “With as much carpet as you have, you can’t even see all the dirt you’re harboring.”

“Hey,” she said, indignantly. “Be nice. I’m driving you.” Walking through the bedroom again, just to remember everything until it was mine, she checked her cell phone. “Speaking of rides, we’re supposed to be meeting Ian.”

Glancing back at her, I nodded. Since the letters, we had started biweekly broadcasts and were working on setting up a march. At this point, we were finalizing the details, preparing to announce our plans.

“Come on already,” she insisted, grabbing my hand and pulling me away, briefly explaining we had a business meeting to the landlady. She smiled and I promised to be in touch.

“It’s perfect,” I said as we raced down the stairs.

“Glad. But I wish you’d live closer to me. It’s safer.”

“Nowhere is safe.”

Caroline started saying something else as we emerged onto the sidewalk and headed for the car. My attention had been drawn elsewhere, though. Something had changed in the air, some emotion. There were only a handful of people on the street and it was easy to tell they weren’t the source. Turning around, I saw it; the source of the change was a black SUV. Whoever was inside was sending out a unique mix of bitterness and concentration, as though stressed out. The passenger window rolled down as they neared, and, listening, I could hear the click of a gun being cocked.

A thousand different words and thoughts ran through my mind. Turning back, I reached out, trying to warn her, certain she was the target. “Caro—”

The air was sucked from my lungs as I was stopped in my tracks. The same instant I stopped, I was propelled into Caroline, her eyes wide and terrified. She was hysterical, nearly beside herself as she searched for her cell phone, demanding I stay with her. Caroline kept repeating it. That I needed to stay with her. All I could think was how I had been wrong. How, for some reason, my blood seemed to be covering her hands.

Vampiric: Chapter Nine, Part 8

Christmas morning was interesting. We gathered downstairs and presents were passed out, but no one moved to open them. Then Ian insisted her parents start, Caroline backing him. All of their gifts were thoughtful and beautiful, my own to them a set of 20 pairs of scented taper candles and two glass, box-shaped candle holders. Caroline opened hers next and politely thanked her parents for the cashmere sweaters. I didn’t know what to get her, so I gave her a certificate for a few spa days—not that I was insinuating anything.

Ian refused to open his before me, so I went next. He had given me a spa day package to the same place I had picked up Caroline’s. Her gift was a pearl necklace—“Because every girl needs one.” I was surprised her parents had also given me a gift—a tri-gold piece, the different gold strands entwined to create a thin rope necklace.

Ian opened his last, thanking me for the collection of crocheted caps, then laughing when he found Caroline had gifted him a similar set. Caroline had also given him a set of oil paints to accompany the large canvases from her parents. Well, it was the receipt for the canvases which were to be delivered to his loft sometime after the holidays.

While we were at the beach house, her parents were pleasant, but I had this strange sensation it was all a ruse. That while I walked on the beach—sometimes over the water—not all was as it seemed. I didn’t press Ian or Caroline for answers; I didn’t much want them. It seemed silly to add more problems to my plate before my own were taken care of.

Sometimes I wished I would ask, though. Every time I would talk to Caroline, she seemed tense, as though she was reeling in her stress and anger so as not to worry me. Even Ian seemed changed; he wasn’t as relaxed and carefree. I wondered if it was something her parents kept telling them. They never called me in to talk like they did those two. It made me grateful, though I felt slightly guilty.

When we left, Caroline confided that she was glad the rounds were done until Easter. Ian teased her that he didn’t have to return for another year and she slapped him on the arm for it. I was willing to bet he would have been smacked upside the head, but he was driving.

Whatever had happened while we were there was past, thankfully. I was discovering part of the peace I found came from their energy. Still able to feel the caress of the ocean breeze in combination with their typical energy, I felt much better. Things were slowly returning to normal.

Vampiric: Chapter Nine, Part 7

“Ian,” Caroline called in her smooth voice, still further down the beach.

His arms still wrapped around me, he craned his neck over his shoulder to see her. I turned to face him, grateful the threat of tears was past and he had been gracious enough not to make it worse. There was almost more comfort in his embrace than in knowing he wouldn’t tell.

Rubbing my arms he asked, “Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” I assured him, the feeling of betrayal still tossing uncomfortably in my stomach but my emotions in check. I even tossed in a genuine smile so he’d believe me.

“No worries, love,” he said with a hint of Irish accent. He tipped my chin up with a hooked finger. “Your secret’s safe with me.” He winked at me just before Caroline was upon us.

“What are my favorite people up to?” she asked, throwing her arms around us.

“Just walking.”

“And talking,” Ian added, smiling. “And you obviously want something.”

She gasped, her features indignant. “Not me, Ian. Haven’t you learned by now? When we’re with my parents, they’re the ones who want. You know, answers, questions, updates, lies, empty promises, a touch of truth to abide by the idiot rules.”

“It’s been so long I nearly forgot,” he said, shaking his head.

“Best be off. They don’t much like waiting, if you remember,” she warned.

“Right, then. We’ll all have to talk later;” He headed back toward the house.

My eyes followed him as my mind tried to convince the rest of me telling him wasn’t a betrayal. It was healthy to have more than one close relationship.

“Aren’t your feet cold?” Caroline asked, jarring my attention away from my inner turmoil.

“I’m used to it by now. It actually feels refreshing.”

Shrugging, she slipped out of her flats and let them dangle from two fingers at her side. “Let’s walk.” Neither of us said anything for a while, though she did curse the first few times the ocean washed over her feet. I was about to suggest she warm her feet if she didn’t like the cold, but the next time a swell broke over the sand, steam rose from where she walked and there were no more complaints.

“How are you holding up?” she asked. Until then, I had been watching a couple of seagulls soar over the ocean, reminding me of what I still wanted to try.

“It’s been over three months,” I said, not wanting to go more in depth.

“That’s not an answer.”

For a while I ignored her, not wanting to open that can of worms, but knowing she’d insist until I did. I wasn’t hiding it to spite her, though I knew that’s what she believed. It was just too hard to go there still. Everything was better when I left it alone; everything except the hole in my still fragile heart that seemed to rule my dreams and nightmares. But I was fine not fully dealing with it otherwise.

“I’m holding it together,” I said at last, knowing it would come nowhere close to satiating her want.

“More can be expected, Abs.”

I wanted to argue against her claim, fighting that more couldn’t be expected when it was Drei. That someone like him took more time because he’d been around longer. He’d seen more; he’d cared. And in return I would have done anything. I did everything. But that couldn’t change what had happened.

“Not thinking about it helps more than anything else.”

“Not for long,” she said, saying what I already knew to be true.

Shaking away her words and the emotions that could crush me given the chance, I quickened my pace enough so we weren’t next to each other. I still hadn’t told her it was partially her fault. Between calling all the time and that surprising kiss, there was no way she wasn’t responsible for some part in my pain.

And yet she had been there when I needed someone. It was enough to keep her from knowing, for the time being.

“Abs, how are you doing?” she pleaded. “Talk to me.”

Blocking her words, I looked out to the clam serenity of the ocean, thinking if I could be out there, this conversation would just fade away. It wouldn’t happen, and it wouldn’t change anything.

Pulling the air into little cloud-like blocks to walk across, I made my way out over the ocean, Caroline’s cries of concern falling away in the breeze. I stopped, not wanting to go too far. Escape didn’t matter if you didn’t survive it.

Standing over the ocean, the water rolled gently below me; it was far enough away not to threaten to weaken me. Although the air was heavier, it was also sweeter. The breeze brought calm with it, wrapping me in blankets of control and peace. It almost seemed to work at healing me, making me strong again. Confident, again. Inhaling the moist wind, I could feel it swirl inside me until it was dangerously close to lulling me into a deep relaxation where I forget even the air holding me up. There, I could pull out my thoughts, one by one, sorting through what made sense without the teary mess.

When I was ready, I thanked the ocean breeze, feeling better than before, though I knew I still had a ways to go. I felt, now, at least, I could answer Caroline and work towards being better than “holding it together.”

She waited on the beach, knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapping her sweater tight around her in the growing darkness.

“After three months,” I started, stepping down into the wet sand before her, “I still miss him. But I can live without him. I can laugh again, smile without feeling it’s wrong. It doesn’t hurt as much. It still does hurt, though. The little reminders every day make it hard not to think about.”

“Is that all?” she asked, standing and dusting her skinny jeans clean.

“There has to be more?” I hoped she didn’t expect waterworks. It wasn’t what I wanted for myself, anyway.

“I half expected you to cry,” she said. “What happened out there?”

For a moment, I thought about giving her the long version, the slow way my element worked to bring me to a good place, a place I could be in and not fall to pieces easily. But I wasn’t sure she could understand. Her element was different from mine, and I wasn’t sure she had ever experienced anything like it. “I found peace,” I said instead.

“Really?” Caroline cocked an eyebrow at me and turned her head slightly. Why did she not believe me on things like this?

“A semblance of it;” I smiled, knowing it sounded weird without the full explanation.

“If you insist,” she said, shrugging. She started to walk back to the house.

Following her, I said, “I do.”

Walking back, I felt like I could do anything. Like that may have been the last time I would come near to crying over him. Caroline told me we were staying only for a few days past Christmas and then heading back to the city to party for New Years. The thought of going dancing without him didn’t wring my stomach in knots as it would have earlier that day. In fact, I found the prospect rather exhilarating.