Eternal: Chapter Four, Part 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course I understood it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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 9

Caroline hooked her arm around my waist as we entered the club. She knew the bouncer so we didn’t have to wait in line with everyone else. Ian draped an arm over her shoulders and asked if we wanted any refreshments.

“I’ll take a Jack and Coke,” Caroline said over the din.

“For you, love?”

“Water, please.”

As he slipped past us toward the bar, Caroline led me through the crowd of gyrating bodies. I could barely hear myself think over the music and shouts of friends ready to find a new scene. Streamers and nets of balloons decorated the ceiling. The tables were covered in New Year confetti. Picking up some of the plastic confetti, I sprinkled it in Caroline’s hair.

“Now you look festive;” I giggled. She was about to the do the same to me when I stopped her hand and reminded her, “You dressed me for tonight. No confetti.”

Flicking her wrist, it ended up in my hair anyway. “Now I’m done dressing you,” she teased, grinning.

She had come into my room before we left and insisted what I had put together wasn’t right for New Years. Then digging through my closet, she picked out a sleek, strapless black dress and a pair of slingback heels. Grabbing my brush, she pulled my straightened hair out of its bun and smoothed it out, saying it looked sexy. Dusting a touch of foundation over the scars on my arms—not the first time she had seen them—she deemed me ready to go out.

Caroline was decked out in an off the shoulder number, crimson red to match her flowing hair. Even the soles on her black kitten heels matched. Ian had whined on the drive over about how he hated the dress shirt she picked out for him while she complained about his hat. She let him keep it because I told her it matched. It didn’t stop her from pouting a little, though.

Ian set the drinks on the table. “Here we go—” He repressed a laugh and Caroline scowled at him. “I didn’t think we’d be wearing the décor.” We both threw confetti at him for that, laughing as some of it stuck to his cap.

“To half an hour left in this year,” Caroline toasted when he sat down, raising her drink.

“To a better year,” I added, lifting my lime water—Ian insisted it was the only way they would serve water tonight.

“And to happiness,” Ian tossed in, clinking his margarita against our glasses—he claimed New Years was the one time of year he condoned drinking.

When our drinks were finished, Caroline pulled us both from our seats and onto the dance floor, sliding between pairs and groups to the center. There she started her dance, seeming to spread this energy to Ian and I, possibly even to those around us as well, so that we joined her. It felt strange and exhilarating to just move, to thrive on energy I didn’t know I had. At some point, I realized Ian had left us to dance with a fabulous looking guy. A few moments later, the guy had been traded for a cutesy girl who looked barely 21.

“Which is he?” I asked Caroline over the music.

“Anything and everything. Nothing when he feels like it.” She twirled me around. “Sometimes I wish I could be like that and just not care. But I do.”

“Me, too,” I said, spinning her around.

The music stopped and the DJ announced there was one minute until midnight. Caroline dragged Ian away from his new partner—an older looking woman with high cheek bones who held herself with poise and elegance, as though she was either famous or very wealthy.

“My favorite girls,” he said, wrapping his arms around us.

“Eight…”

The crowd had already started the countdown. I joined in, but I suddenly didn’t feel right. It felt like this happiness would disappear before the night’s end. I didn’t want that to happen, but I couldn’t stop it either; I resented being able to tell.

“Three…two…one!”

Caroline and I kissed Ian on the cheek and he kissed each of us on the forehead as the balloons and more confetti rained down upon us.

“Happy New Year, loves,” he wished, hugging us tight before disappearing to his uptown partner and kissing her before the minute changed.

“Happy New Year,” I wished Caroline, trying not to let this sensation ruin the evening.

“Same to you,” she said, smiling, failing to notice something had changed. I guessed that was a good thing, though; it was better not to dampen her mood. She should enjoy the party. “And may this one be better for your heart.”

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 Three, Part 2

No one was outside as far as I could see or hear. I was relying more on my ears than my eyes—the cracked windows along the north side of the building looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in forever—which was probably closer to the truth than I cared to know.

About an hour earlier, we were all loaded into various vehicles—so as not to appear suspicious—and arrived in this other building. There were three other lookouts, each of us patrolling a different cardinal direction. Mostly everyone else was in the broadcasting room. Being an air elemental was great for me. Though most people would remain in the dark, I used my gifts to figure out what I wanted to know. In a few minutes it would be 8:30 and Caroline’s broadcast would be on every television screen within fifty miles, and I would be tuning in while keeping an ear open for anything strange.

A minute ‘til, I pulled the conversations from the broadcasting room to me. They still weren’t ready and I could hear Conan trying desperately to keep Caroline calm amongst the chaos so she could still go through with the broadcast. A few people were babbling about a traceable signal and the bodyguards were itching, just as nervous as everyone else that this would fail.

“I thought you worked out the—”

“C,” Conan chided. “Language please. The equipment will be running in twenty seconds whether the signal is traceable or not. We can’t back out now or people are going to be staring at a blank room for ten minutes.”

“I know!”

“Five…four…three…” a female voice said, silencing Caroline.

I knew the program had started, but no one said anything. For a moment, I thought it was all a waste; she wasn’t going to go through with it. Drei had been wrong about her and, after all her talk, I was disappointed.

“Fellow citizens,” she started, and there was a wave of relief from everyone in the room. “Our government has lied to us.”

The line was intended to provoke incredulity at the accusation. Our government, founded by the people, couldn’t be against us. There was no way. The gut reaction was inescapable.

“Our government stopped caring about we the people ages ago when it started redirecting funds for education to wars abroad; wars to intimidate others into falling in line. It has fed us bile and manure about why we must solve the world’s problems, why we must sacrifice our brave men and women, why we need to be the bringer of peace. Under our government, there is no peace. There is no contentment without an enemy or a cause. We feed the war machine which in turn feeds the wealthy. And while the rich become richer, the poor can barely scrap together enough to live.

“The truth is before your very eyes. The career politicians do less and less every year and still earn more than the hardworking families who keep this economy going. They sit in gilded luxury while some people work two or three jobs just to make ends meet. They tout the benefits we provide to other nations in pursuing conflict and war while we underpay teachers, underprepare students, and consistently fail to provide any solution to random acts of violence plaguing campuses, schools, and public establishments domestically.

“Ask yourself why?” She paused, letting her words sink in and the audience ponder her question. “To keep the people weak, the very people who give power to the government, gives them greater strength. If we are weak and distracted by our everyday struggles, our fight for survival, we cannot organize successfully to demand change. If we are divided along party lines, believing someone else cannot possibly support the same causes, we provide a reason for change to stall. And if we buy into the lies we are fed about our involvement abroad, we will not question the lack of attention paid at home.

“Our government is cunning. It has done well to distract, divide, and bully us into a silence, claiming we are unpatriotic or socialist or heathen if we attempt to break free of the illusion. We have been misguided; worse yet, we perpetuate the falsehoods and misguide each other.

“But it is not too late to change the future. We need change in our society, and the only way we can do that is to demand it—”

There was a staticky noise outside. I tuned out Caroline’s speech—which, if she played this last part right, would anger the general public into following her religiously—and focused on finding that strange noise. Reaching my hearing out as far as possible, I could just make out a vehicle and murmurs inside about following something. The conversation was too broken up.

I ran, searching for Caroline’s voice in the building again, hoping we could all make it out of here safe. My biggest fear was that it was too late, that she wouldn’t be able to wrap up the broadcast soon enough to evacuate. She was halfway through her lengthy conclusion when the outer ring of bodyguards let me through.

“—we’ve started over before; we can do it again—” Caroline was saying as Conan crossed the large room to me. “What is it?” he whispered shortly, as if more annoyed I was there than worried about why I was there.

“Someone’s headed this way. They’re following some trace or something.”

“How far off?” he asked, not even bothering to ask how I knew. I was grateful because there wasn’t time to explain it, and I certainly wasn’t going to be captured because of this.

Running some quick, more than likely inaccurate, calculations in my head, I guesstimated, “About eight minutes, less even.”

Without hesitation, Conan swirled around and made the guillotine motion. It amazed me at how quickly everyone jumped to work. Most of the crew started cleaning up their computers as quietly as possible so as not to interrupt Caroline’s crash ending.

“This revolution has been long coming, and it’s time we bring it out into the open. We’ll be back, and if you want to see a brighter future, you will be, too.”

Someone capped the camera and Caroline slipped into her coat, speed walking out the door, the rest of us following her. We split up into the different vehicles and they all took off in different directions. Ian sped off into the heart of the city. I didn’t know where Drei was, but those people who were coming scared me more than not knowing where he was. We would find each other. The drivers were supposed to drive in circles for an hour before converging on HQ again.

Ian said, “Don’t worry, love. We gave them the slip thanks to you.” He winked a sapphire gem at me in the rear view mirror.

But that wasn’t what worried me. That might have been the bad feeling I was having all night, but the feeling wasn’t gone. Something else was going to happen, but I dared not say anything without knowing what first.

Vampiric: Chapter Three, Part 1

Chapter Three: A Time for Everything

“Nervous?” Conan asked. He had been walking around assigning specifics to jobs that had been kept a secret until now. No one knew all of what was happening, just his or her own part. Drei and I had been standing in the warehouse for an hour, waiting for someone to tell us it was starting…whatever it was.

Conan had just directed Drei to a group dressed in black from head to toe and practicing serious faces between jokes. I guessed that was the rest of her inner circle, and it was even more obvious how Drei stood out from them all. For starters, most of them were shorter, and though a few had some bulging muscles, their dispositions were too cheerful to be threatening—though I had no doubt they could possibly intimidate someone.

“Why do you ask?”

“You keep looking around, like you’re trapped or something,” he answered, marking something on his clipboard. I noticed for the first time his hair wasn’t brown, like I had thought, but it had an orange tinge to it. Strange how it seemed kind of important now. Maybe that was because I was hoping he would go away without forcing me to be rude.

“I like to know my surroundings,” I lied, hoping it satisfied him. “And I like to know what’s going on, but that doesn’t ever really happen.”

He laughed at that. I didn’t like his laugh; it was a harsh barking sound that better resembled a cross between yelling and howling. “C never likes people to know everything; too risky.”

“I figured as much.” I wished he’d stop talking to me.

“Well, you’re pretty much one of the only lookouts. We don’t group you all together since you need to stand off on your own anyway. So…just wait here I guess until we’re ready to go.”

I nodded, turning away from him slightly. Not taking the hint he should move onto whoever was left, Conan laid a hand on my forearm.

“It’ll be fine;” he shrugged. “We planned it out really well and nothing should go wrong.”

“That’s not what I was thinking.” I stared at his hand and wished it away; I resisted the urge to brush it off or move away from him. That would be rude and might give him the wrong idea. Not just about how I treated people, but possibly—since he wasn’t taking the hints—that I was playing “hard to get.”

“It’s on everybody’s mind. But if you need someone to talk to, I’m here; I’m told I have a good ear, too.”

I forced a strained smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He finally sauntered off to a group of blonds in the corner. I couldn’t help noticing he didn’t bother them as he had me—and they wanted him to flirt with them, too, from the way they were constantly touching his arm and adjusting their hair.

Conan didn’t know what he was talking about. I wasn’t nervous about tonight; I was worried about what would come after. I couldn’t shake the feeling something would go terribly wrong. And these feelings hadn’t been wrong before.

Vampiric: Chapter Two, Part 2

Drei must have sensed my unease after leaving the meeting with Caroline because he made a point of spending more time with me. During the days he was teaching me the tango, his aggravation at my inability to close my feet on the fifth step kept at bay until I finally managed to remember. After successfully completing the step for nearly half an hour, Drei added music to the formula, swiftly taking off into a more complex tango, my feet following obediently, only occasionally stumbling. At those times, he smiled, telling me I was doing wonderfully, and slowed down until I was comfortable again.

After dancing for what felt like an hour, he smiled approvingly, spinning me out and back in, kissing me as I stopped in his embrace. Neither of us pulled away, too content in being close. If things continued as such, I thought I might be able to overlook Caroline’s negativity altogether. If nothing else, it was bringing us closer, even if there was still a nagging voice in the back of my head telling me I had to be cautious.

Ballroom dancing was a way we could be close without necessarily drawing attention to our relationship. The tradeoff was, of course, when we went out at night, I taught Drei how to dance to regular music, and sometimes he added his own twist of classical dance. Though he did try his best, his attempts were humorous as he tried to add familiarity to the new. He often teased this “new dancing” was a cruel joke to make a fool of him.

The day before we were supposed to meet Caroline for her project, Drei and I went walking. He judged it was safe for him since the sun was hidden behind the heavy white-gray clouds. I still wasn’t sure about his tolerance to light. He had once told me sunlight didn’t matter; now it seemed to matter and, though I was curious, he would probably shrug it off as being unimportant.

When we were halfway through the park, it began to snow. I ran out to the center of the open field where snow from earlier in the week still lay peacefully. There, I spun in circles, holding my arms out.

Snow was the one form of precipitation that didn’t make me feel like I was suffocating. Rain made the air heavier and, since air was as much a part of me as my skin and hair and thoughts, it always depressed me. But snow was different. It was solid enough to affect me much like falling leaves—which wasn’t at all.

Drei stood on the cleared path, watching. I stopped, the corners of my lips curling upwards.

“Come on,” I shouted across the distance, waving my arm in a huge arc. “Dance with me.”

“No thank you,” he replied, smiling, his hands buried in his coat pockets.

“Fine,” I said, bending down to scoop up a handful of snow.

“Do not—” Drei’s sentence fell flat as the snowball smashed against his shoulder. At first, he just stared at the clumps of white embedded in the crevices of his coat, bright against the dark material. In one swift motion, he scooped up a handful of snow and tossed it in my direction.

A yelp escaped my lips as I dodged it, laughing giddily.

“It is unfair,” Drei said, the beginnings of a smile on his lips. He was already throwing another snowball in my direction.

“Fair?” I questioned, changing the course of the snowball. “Bombarding me is what’s unfair.”

A couple more snowballs hit Drei as I blocked whatever he threw my way. Even when he attempted dodging my missiles, I just manipulated the air to make sure they hit their target—his punishment for being so resistant to dancing with me.

“What is unfair,” he said—snow dusted over his slightly shaggy light brown hair—“is the fact you have an advantage.”

“I have no clue what you mean,” I teased, running to a new location that hadn’t been scavenged clean.

His amethyst eyes sparkled as he loudly replied, “And that is why you have yet to be hit at all—”

“I’m just that good.” When I noticed him running towards me, a fistful of snow in his possession, I screeched joyfully, running away from him. Drei caught me fairly quickly, holding me in his free arm and rocking us back and forth.

“I will not use this snow against you,” he said, his features serious, but a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“That’s why you’re still holding it.” I glanced at the clump of snow he still clutched.

“I am still holding it because it told me you deserved this.” I flinched in his grasp as he crushed the snowball on top of my head. He laughed as I shook large chunks out of my hair, my cheeks bright red and cold, both of us wearing veils of snow in our hair. “You cannot avoid me forever.”

“I never said I wanted to.” Our eyes locked on each other.

Everything around us was silent, almost as though it was afraid to interrupt us. All of the laughter and teasing that had echoed in the clearing had faded away. What was left was the soft snowfall and us, together, seemingly suspended in time.

And then he kissed me.

There, in the open, for anyone to see—not that there were many people out for leisurely strolls—in one of the most peaceful settings of which I had ever been a part.

It was a moment free of worry, false pretenses, fear…everything but love.

On the way home, Drei asked, “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

I gazed up at him, unsure how to answer. No matter what, every time I thought about Caroline, or Ian, or the whole faction, I couldn’t shake the feeling something was going to happen. Something was going to ruin what I had with Drei, whether directly or not.

“I don’t know,” I said after a while.

“I will be there with you, every step of the way.” He took my hand in his, stopping to kiss my fingers. His eyes were serious and a darker amethyst than usual. He was right; he would be there. Drei would be at my side so long as I needed him; tomorrow I needed him, more than I had in a long time.

“So long as you’re with me, I’ll be fine.”

Another thought occurred to me as we reached the apartment, though: what if what was going to happen would transpire not because of someone else, but because of Drei?

Vampiric: Chapter One, Part 1

Chapter One: New Flame

She sat, legs crossed under the table, an arm draped across the shiny surface while the other hand supported her thin face. Her bordering on too long fingernails, sporting chipped nail polish, tapped a rhythm across one of her high cheekbones; probably bored out of her mind and already disinterested. At first glance, her flaming crimson hair seemed more like a wig, but roots don't lie. It flared around her head like its own version of the sun.

Drei stood next to me, tall and powerful. It had been his idea for me to meet with her. Caroline, he insisted, would help me to learn what it was I was supposed to do. She already had a following—however small it might have been—and a plan. I had neither. Not to mention I didn’t have a clue as to where to start.

“Are you sure that's her?” I whispered, crossing my arms over my fluttering stomach. There was something in her demeanor that made me feel threatened. But Drei wouldn't purposely put me in harm's way. He had spent the five years we had known each other keeping me safe. He was my rock, my love; I trusted him.

“Caroline is a bit of a wild child, but she has much to teach you if you are willing,” Drei said softly.

I couldn't tear my eyes from her; she couldn't have been more than 25, fresh from college if she ever attended. Throughout my entire life, I couldn't recall once talking to someone like her. She was so much freer of society and could care less what people thought. I was her opposite in every way.

“Go on;” Drei waited for me to start towards her. He had made the initial contact; I had to prove he wasn’t dragging me into it, even if this really wasn’t my choice.

As we reached the table in the corner of the cafe, gold flecked bronze eyes swiveled towards us, seeming to absorb what she liked and disliked. The judgment cast on me was obvious: I wasn't someone she worked with. She was intrigued by Drei, her eyes lighting up a moment before she buried it, fearing she would have to take me on if she invited him.

“Sit,” she commanded in a rich voice.

At her questioning gaze, Drei introduced us; “I am Drei, the one who contacted you. This is Abriel.”

She nodded as though she hated the formality of it all, but didn't want to start talking before she knew for sure we weren't mistaken. Rather intelligent on her part—not that she didn’t seem intelligent.

“I don't usually consider people like you,” she said, pausing to sip her latte. From the sweetly spiced smell wafting from the cup, I knew it was a mocha chai. Personally, I found them too sweet. “It may be your too normal hair, the cutesy ballet flats, the skirt—I couldn't tell you. But something about people like you…” she scrunched her nose a bit, staring at me, “makes me not trust anyone.”

“I take it you like my blouse,” I said, lacking any other comment. It felt hopeless. If she didn't like me, what could I do to change it? The only thing to do, really, was make whatever was left of this meeting bearable.

“Have one just like it,” she replied, taking another sip. “A wrap blouse is a necessity.”

Silence ensued. She didn't leave, which was good—for us anyway—but she didn't say anything either. When Drei asked if I wanted a cinnamon chai—my favorite—I nodded and he left.

“Who is he, really?” Caroline asked, her eyes following his departure. She was interested in him, but not in a sensual way. Which was to all of our benefit. If she had been anywhere near drooling after him, I would have left and never glanced back.

For a fleeting moment I thought about revealing him as a vampire, but I knew better. If he wanted her to know, he'd tell her. “A friend.”

“More like a muscle man.” She took another drink. Maybe I had been wrong about her not being interested in that sense.

“Why haven't you left yet?” I found myself saying; it came about more because I wanted to change the subject, but I rationalized I had valid reason to ask. Caroline had already made it clear she didn't like me, so it didn't make sense for there to be an awkward silence between us—especially not when she was still ogling him.

“Honestly?” She raised an eyebrow as her eyes returned to mine, wrapping both pale hands around her cup. I nodded, half afraid I would say something inappropriate. “The fact that we have the same blouse counts for something. It means you’re not totally hopeless.” She thought a moment longer over a more legitimate reason. “He doesn't hang around you for nothing. Someone like him knows who he wants to be around, so there's got to be something I'm missing. Is there?” She held my gaze steadily.

“Perhaps,” I said, my voice even, more uncertain what her intentions for either of us were. The answer she sought was also the thing that put me at risk. If she wanted me to reveal my hand, I needed to know she wasn’t going to turn around and sell me up the river. “Is there a reason why you have such control over who works with you? Why you have such a following when you're so young?”

Caroline laughed. “You're gutsy. I like that.” She finished the rest of her mocha chai, tossing the cup in the trashcan across from the table and sat back. “Every revolutionary is young. You don't see some grandfather leading an uprising, do you?”

“No. But why you?”

Her lips cocked to one side, she laid her hand palm up on the table between us. “Because I can do this,” she answered as a small flame sprang to life in her palm. “Does that scare you?”

Continuing to hold her gaze, I created a vacuum around her flame. When it extinguished, she looked down at her hand, shocked momentarily, but then smiled at me.

“Coincidence?” she questioned for the sake of it. The spark in her eyes revealed she already knew the answer.

“It wasn’t.”

“I'm not the only one with tricks, I see,” she said, still smiling as if amused. “That was pretty nifty. Does he know?” She bobbed her head in the direction of Drei, walking back with my chai and his latte.

“He knows more than I can say.”

“We'll be in touch,” she announced, standing as Drei handed me the chai. She was taller than I had thought, only a few inches shorter than Drei. “I'll have one of my people pick you up. Then I'll tell you everything you need to know about helping me.”

We watched her leave, and then sat with our heads bowed together. It had been a long while since I'd had to trust anyone but Drei. But something about Caroline—whether it was her spunky attitude or her power over fire—interested and frightened me. Not to mention, I still couldn’t make heads or tails about her interest in Drei, though I knew I shouldn’t worry about it—he had chosen me, after all. Ambivalent as I was, I wanted to trust her, to be around and learn from her. As this occurred to me, I realized I wanted to run from her, as well.

“That went well.” Drei sipped his latte.

“We'll see soon enough.”

Elemental: Chapter Twelve, Part 2

“Now you boys sleep tight,” I said before leaving the room.

Our new camp was larger than the previous one, the cabins older but roomier. Instead of two rooms, these had four. The lake itself was also larger, extending past the horizon. Mitchell informed me that Drei had planned this location for his new camp, and had been checking on it for the last several years, ensuring it really was abandoned.

While Mitchell and the other vampires were settling into the new environment or returning the rental vans, Drei and I were left to tuck everyone in. It hadn’t yet occurred to me there might have been an intended purpose for that. Initially, I just thought it was accidental.

“What if we aren’t tired?” Mikael asked from his room, quickly followed in agreement by Danny, Derek, and Josh—a newer addition to the group who had fit in immediately.

“If you don’t sleep then I’ll have to send some cold air this way until you’re all too freezing to get out of bed,” I said with light humor.

They giggled at the mental image of them blue with icicles dangling from their noses, but stayed put and made no other complaints. Though I was joking, subconsciously, they didn’t want to risk it.

“Good night,” I whispered, leaving the cabin. They were my last group and, though it was chilly outside, I realized Drei and I were the only ones around. I wasn’t sure if the timing was ideal, but I knew I probably wouldn’t have another chance like it.

I caught sight of his silhouette disappearing toward the cabins we hadn’t yet filled—some of them probably reserved for the vampires.

“Drei,” I whispered, sending the word to his ear.

He whirled around, startled at first, but then beginning toward me when our eyes met. I met him halfway, feeling the cold settle into my bones through my coat.

“Yes?” he questioned softly, glancing around to guarantee no one else had stirred. “Is everything well?”

The words vanished from my mind and I wondered if I had misjudged the moment. It didn’t seem like forgetting the words would happen in the ideal moment, but I had to say something. He was expecting it now.

“How did your sisters die? Ashlyn and Avery?”

Drei looked away from me, the set of his jaw revealing his refusal to reply, whether because of pain or just my not needing to know. After a hard moment of silence—in which I doubted Valetta had told me the truth—Drei said, “What do you really want to ask?”

And just like that, the words came. “What are we?”

“How do you mean?” He gazed at me again. His amethyst eyes were intense, as if he knew what he wanted me to be asking, but wasn’t sure I was.

“Together;” the anticipation welled in my chest. I couldn’t bear to meet his searching gaze; whatever information they held, I didn’t want to read. I wanted him to tell me, to say it aloud.

In his logical voice, he began, “Vampire law forbids any relationship between mortals and vampires, and lately they have been less lenient in their rulings. Lily is the youngest of us, turned in the 1920s, before the Council decided we needed more order to survive.” He cast his gaze off to the half-moon wavering above; I couldn’t tell if it was for strength or for locating those elusive words. “We are especially barred from elementals, the risk of distraction too great to truly understand until the damage is done.”

“That isn’t what I asked,” I whispered, feeling the tears well in my eyes. I didn’t want to know we couldn’t be together without him getting into trouble with this council, whoever they were. All I wanted to know was if he loved me; if I had tortured myself trying to forget him for nothing.

“You are shivering,” he said gently, pulling me into his arms, wrapping his jacket around us both. I was hesitant to wrap my arms around him, despite my longing to do just that. It wouldn’t feel right or acceptable until I knew, and he was more than reluctant to let me know.

“Why are you avoiding the question?” I asked, looking up at him, struggling not to let his comforting arms or familiar scent distract me. I wasn’t sure if either was on purpose, but, if they were, I didn’t want them to succeed; all of us, it seemed, had suffered too long from this omission. “What are you afraid of?”

Drei’s pale fingers brushed a wisp of hair out of my eyes. He looked down at me with such a sadness in his amethyst gems, I was certain he wouldn’t answer me, just as he hadn’t answered about his sisters. He had a way of locking away anything painful, as though it would make life easier for others to be ignorant of injury.

“Secrets hurt, Drei,” I said, resting my head against his chest. “My whole life was a huge mystery I never knew about. Please, don’t add to the pain my parents caused me.” My throat constricted, stopping me from opening my heart further. Stopping me from giving away everything before I knew if he would replace it.

He held me tighter, a hand tangled in my hair. Before, he had always been so cold when we touched; now he seemed to radiate warmth. In this wondrous whirlwind, that was the one thing I couldn’t make fit in with something else I had allowed to make sense.

“I believe you are the one I have been waiting for,” Drei whispered into my hair.

Elemental: Chapter Eleven, Part 7

Drei woke me before we left, leading me back through the trees to where the rest were just beginning to stir. I felt guilty; I hadn’t meant to sleep up there. Then again, it hadn’t really been my choice, either.

Valetta and I spoke again that night. She didn’t ask what Drei and I had discussed; she knew already—or at least, that was impression I received from her. I was glad our relationship hadn’t been ruined, and chided myself for not asking about the moon and promises—specifically, Drei’s promise.

A few days later, as the camp tumbled into dreamland, Valetta asked, “Why do you deny yourself?”

I was more than slightly confused, unsure what I had been denying myself. From my standpoint, I had been rather greedy, considering for what I was responsible. “What do you mean?”

“Drei,” she said simply; the word was heavy and her voice was laced with anguish. I hated it was evident enough even she knew. It shouldn’t have been; I should have been able to hide it better.

“He has you,” I said, shrugging, vainly hoping she’d let the topic go.

Valetta laughed, a surprisingly flighty sound. “He has not wanted me for a long time.”

My mouth fell open at this news and I was utterly lost for understanding. “But you know each other so well, and do everything together. You’re his right hand, always catching what he misses. You two—”

“—have never been together,” she insisted quietly; though her voice revealed how hurtful this truth was, I couldn’t believe it. Not after having convinced myself so thoroughly they were perfect for each other; they deserved each other.

“That’s not—not—” I floundered, unsure how to finish, or even really begin.

“He wanted me with him when he began this project, but we have never been together—not for lack of trying on my part, either. I love Drei,” she confessed solemnly, her dark eyes boring into mine. “Drei has never loved me; he has been holding out for someone else. Someone more akin to him, or possibly less. He has never told me.”

“What about our friendship?” I asked, worried. Her companionship meant so much to me. Just because she deemed it okay didn’t mean she’d still talk to me afterwards. I’d seen enough friendships ruined over relationships in high school to last me.

“Abriel,” she said sternly. “He loves you, and it seems you are the sole person yet to notice it.” Tears welled in her dark eyes; she closed them, inhaling to collect herself. “Our friendship will persevere. But you are an air elemental…who knows how long you will have with him.”

“But—”

“If I have to say it once more, and end up in a mess of tears, you will see our friendship jeopardized.”

“How do I approach him?”

She shook her head, a tear falling onto her pale hand. “You will know,” she softly said. “It is part of who you are to know when the time is right…and everything should be natural. If it does not come naturally to you…maybe he was wrong about you after all.”

Elemental: Chapter Ten, Part 1

Chapter Ten: Wolfish Sheep

New Years came with less pizzazz than Halloween but, like all beginnings, it had a way of staying memorable.

Waking up that morning, I hadn’t realized what was coming, or even what had passed, and it hadn’t occurred to me the old year was over but not yet out. It was raining and a miserable day, but memories never let you stay down long, especially not on New Years.

My year was bittersweet at best. I loved Nick, lost Drei—in a sense—and rebuilt a life when I wasn’t sure there was anything left to start over. It seemed impossible Nick had only arrived ten months ago, or that already we were so close. Neither did it seem likely Valetta and I were best friends, confiding everything—though not always saying it aloud. My relationship with the kids blossomed, but suffered slightly due to Nick. I was like their temp mom: here to kiss the scrapes better, dry the tears, and work out disagreements. It was amusing, to Nick, anyway. I took it seriously.

Two things I couldn’t manage to keep from my thoughts long were the fact something might be wrong with Drei, and Jake’s warning. I had said everything because it had felt right; but the more I thought about it, I wasn’t ready to give up anything; not Nick, Drei, the kids, Valetta, or my life. None of it. But I sensed judgment on my promise was closing in. There was something in the air that made me anxious, even through the downpour.

Elemental: Chapter Eight, Part 7

Nick opened the door and I kissed him.

After Valetta had left, I waited until the lights went out in all of the windows except Nick’s. He never went to sleep with everyone else, and thus was the reason he often slept until the end of breakfast. His timing was impeccable in that sense; he always managed to arrive just before they cleared away all the food.

“What’s this?” he asked when I stepped back from him. I could feel the heat in my cheeks and my heart pounding; my brain, for once, was not thinking about tomorrow.

“I don’t need any more time.”

The smile on his face was invitation enough. He wrapped strong arms around me as I closed the gap between us.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I said, kissing him to stop any further conversation.

As we kissed under the new moon, I could have sworn someone was watching us. Someone depressed and disappointed, but I blocked it out, feeling confident I was doing what was best.

Elemental: Chapter Six, Part 2

Early in late February, I woke up, startled from sleep by a feeling of urgency in my chest. Even when I had sat in the rocking chair for what felt like an hour, the feeling hadn’t vanished. It grew worse, to the point where I couldn’t sit still. I had to be moving somewhere. I just didn’t know where.

Pulling on a pair of old sweats, a jacket, and my overused tennis shoes, I left the cabin behind me, jogging down to the path and concentrating on the inflating sense.

The sun had yet to break the horizon, but the sky was preparing for the transition. Gray loomed overhead, forbidding and yet welcoming. I found myself regarding it warily. It was the only thing not cast completely into silhouette by the light fog, another reminder of the snow-less winter.

I counted the cabins, watching their silent façades as I passed. The path swept away from the buildings where the vampires dwelt, but this morning, I didn’t stop to see if Drei was slipping into sleep. Just the thought repulsed me. Whether it was my own repulsion or the sense of urgency, I couldn’t be sure. I was sure that the further I ran, the more the feeling receded.

As I approached the crossroad into the forest, the sole marked exit from our haven, I thought I saw something flash in the corner of my eye. Looking up, I realized there was a small silhouette at the peak of the path, stumbling and weak, the sound of ragged breathing barely reaching me through the dangling water droplets. The figure stumbled and fell. I waited at the foot of the path, watching to see if it would stand again. When it didn’t, and I realized the urgency had dissipated, I sprinted up the path, terrified and hoping it wasn’t too late.