Eternal: Chapter Nine, Part 7

I waited, glancing from one person to the next, especially watching the doubters, hoping someone would speak up. My eyes wouldn’t beg anyone for a question, but I knew they were out there; just watching their faces, there were questions.

“How do we know you’re not making this all up?” Nick asked, filling the silence that no one else would breach, ending the anxiety and annoyance it had begun to instill in me. A good deal of attention was shifted to him for a moment before returning to me, many mumbles consenting with this question.

“Because I’m an air elemental. I grew up without my mother, another air elemental who was found and taken away by the governmental detail we refer to as bounty hunters. Because this is not something I would joke about.”

“Prove it,” a woman shouted from one of the picnic blankets.

I had spent the night thinking about what I would do and had determined a few ways, starting with the less showy. The woman who asked was named Dolores, which I found out from her friend who was somewhat embarrassed she had spoken up. Dolores—a tall brunette, curvy, and middle-aged—was thinking about her kids and the teenaged babysitter she left them with, whom she didn’t trust not to invite over her boyfriend or friends.

“Dolores, would you tell your friend with you…” I was saying, a trick to make her think her friend’s name for me, “…Joanie, that she shouldn’t be embarrassed you spoke up. This is an open forum because I don’t want any of you to believe me just because I say you should.” The women exchanged a confused look and there was some murmuring from the people gathered. “Because I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” I added, one hand on my chest, one hand reaching out toward her as if I could pat her hand, which I did do with the air, “I won’t ask for your address, but I think you should trust your babysitter. She probably has the kids playing a game or something.”

Dolores started talking excitedly to Joanie, first demanding if she had spoken to me at all and how I could know all of that. I withheld a smile, proud of myself, though I knew most people wouldn’t believe either of them.

“So how long have you known Dolores and Joanie?” a guy, standing relatively close to Nick, demanded, crossing his arms.

“I’ve never met them before,” I replied, “but you won’t believe me. And that’s okay.”

“Do something else?” a little black haired boy requested, his mother quickly shushing him though he waved her off.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked him, crouching down as he was in one of the lawn chairs near the gazebo steps.

He leaned forward excitedly, his rich brown eyes wide and glistening. “Can you fly?” he half-whispered.

Smiling, I stood again. “I can do something like flying,” I admitted, facing the skeptic near Nick.

“You probably know him, too,” he quipped, sneering. Some people just had no manners.

“She doesn’t,” the boy’s mother insisted, holding his head to her chest before he pushed her away, waiting eagerly to see his request fulfilled.

“Then you wanted someone to say that. There’s probably wires,” he reasoned, and while a few people agreed with him, more of them were tired of his doubting, even if they still weren’t convinced.

“So choose someone, anyone here, to check for wires,” I invited, opening my arms to encompass the entire company. “I won’t object.”

Thus, everyone started talking, automatically eliminating anyone who said they believed me and ruling out the skeptic for being too skeptical. Dolores, Joanie, and the boy and his family were also ruled out. Eventually they decided on a farmer type who was torn between believing God would allow a phenomena like this to happen and that elementals were spawns of the devil and therefore unnatural. He was, however, hesitant to do much more than swipe his hand above my head and arms should the latter be the truth. When other men in the crowd cheered him to check elsewhere on my person, he was very respectful and his cheeks burned red.

When he cleared me as wire-free, I asked him to step to the side, starting up my cycle of moving strings where he had been standing. Stepping onto my strings, it took me a moment to find my balance, not having done this for a while. Once I found it, though, I was good to go, slowly weaving through the crowd where there was enough space, eventually flying to the top of the gazebo and sitting down on a now solid block of air. The little boy was out of his seat staring open-mouthed up at me. Everyone was staring open-mouthed, even Nick who—I had forgotten—had never seen me do anything but little tricks.

As I sat above them, I properly read the crowd. For the most part, they were convinced. Quite a few had questions, but I could take those individually. Floating slowly back down, I felt it was time to improvise an ending since I had pretty much improvised everything else.

“Elementals exist,” I started, smiling at how many people were nodding in consent, in belief. Even the gentleman who had checked for wires. “Through us, small miracles still happen, our existence becomes less of a burden on the environment, and people are helped. But it won’t last if we let the government have its way. We exist; we’re people, human; we deserve our rights, too. But it’s the efforts of everyone together that’s going to make a change possible,” I finished, looking around again. I couldn’t seem to remember why I had ever been nervous to begin with. “I’ll be here for a while yet, so feel free to ask questions.”

Nick was the last one I looked at before thanking the crowd and going to sit on one of the benches in the gazebo. He had been smiling, silently clapping for me. Seeing that made me feel so warm inside.

And the feeling didn’t stop there, either. Most of the people who came up to talk to me introduced themselves and commented on how I had been, or how amazing it was to see me fly, or tell me how they wanted to help in any way they could. Every time they asked my name, I answered with “Leirba,” staying true to Drei’s instructions.

Though the original speech was meant to awe and inspire and be longer and better organized, among other things, I felt I had found my niche. Caroline worked well with a prepared script; she liked to talk at people and have them listen. Me? Well, it seemed improvising with facts readily available afterwards was more my speed. I liked to talk to people, and connect in that fashion. If the feedback was any indication, that was how I was going to succeed.

Eternal: Chapter Two, Part 4

Drei left and, a short while later, Valetta and Mitchell followed suit. Not long after I watched them disappear around the corner, I left Drei a note requesting he meet me on the roof. The night was unusually chilly for the end of spring, but it was still beautiful—almost perfect in some ways.

It didn’t feel like I had been waiting long before Drei showed up. I heard him before I saw him, and I could tell he was uneasy about this. Valetta and Mitchell may not see us leaving together, but he was more concerned about if they saw us return together.

“Don’t worry,” I said as he pulled me into his arms.

“I do not want to cross her,” he said, the caution and the longing competing to be dominant in his voice. “The last time I did, it was rather terrifying.”

“Do you trust me?” My eyes searched his, hoping the answer I thought I knew matched the one his features revealed.

“Of course;” his brow furrowed, his eyes were shocked and incredulous I even had to ask.

“Then don’t worry about it.” When he nodded, I asked in a lighter tone, smiling, “Are you ready?”

“I do not even know for what to be ready.”

Laughing, I began pulling my usual breeze of strings. “Don’t be scared, Drei. I’ll be with you the entire time,” I assured him, stepping onto my breeze.

“You have been busy experimenting again, I see.” His eyes followed me as I moved in slow circles before him. “Now how do you suggest I join you?”

“Step up here with me.” I increased the number of strings and their thickness for added strength. “I’ll help you find your balance.”

Cautiously, he took my offered hand, jumping up to join me and nearly falling off again before taking my other hand and catching himself. I couldn’t help but laugh; I had never seen his eyes so wide before.

“You enjoy tormenting me,” he said, the corners of his lips curled upward and his eyes glowing.

“Only when you let me,” I returned, adjusting my balance so I wouldn’t fall with him. “Tell me when you’re used to it.”

“Not when I am comfortable?” he asked teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, if I wait for you to be comfortable, we won’t have time to go stargazing.”

“And where do you suggest we do that?”

“Are you used to it?”

“I would assume so.”

Turning my back to him, I announced, “Then we can go,” taking off over the rooftops beyond the city limits, but not too quickly—I didn’t want either of us to fall. Drei held onto my hands as he readjusted his balance to match mine. He was coping better than I had expected, but that might have been because he could use me to help him balance and I would adjust my own footing to accommodate both of us.

Neither of us spoke, but that was probably because neither of us knew what to say to the other. II didn’t mind much; I was just happy to be with him.

“We’re here;” I stopped us in the middle of an old, disused highway. The stars were brilliant here, practically lighting everything on their own. I stepped off of the breeze and Drei followed clumsily; I tried to hide my giggling behind my hand but he still glared playfully at me.

“If you were just going to mock me all night, I should not have indulged you;” he slowly approached, wrapping me in his arms.

“How can I make it up to you?” I asked, sinking into his embrace. I can’t begin to explain how wonderful it felt. It was almost like I was whole again. Almost, because I knew he was holding back, uncertain if this was appropriate or not considering the current situation.

The playfulness racing across his features disappeared to be replaced with a seriousness I was hoping wouldn’t rear its head tonight. “Do you think I deserve you?”

Sighing, I couldn’t help feeling I knew this had been coming. I knew it had been on his mind the past week, ever since Valetta first said it. “Drei, what happened was both of our faults. I don’t want you feeling discontent because someone else thinks you should;” I stared at him, taking in the sorrow just under the surface of the seriousness. “We’ve talked about this; we’ve both come to terms with it. We’re past it.”

“But do I deserve you?” he repeated slowly, painfully.

He really needed this answer, and I couldn’t help but feel obligated to say something. I had been there, after all, needing an answer I didn’t have, hoping it would make things better—feeling unable to move on or make a proper decision without it.

“I think so. Do I deserve you? How do you even measure that?” The question was confusing. How does anyone determine who has a right to be with whom? People make mistakes; just because they know better doesn’t mean they can’t be forgiven.

“You deserve the world, Abriel,” he whispered into my ear, holding me closer to him.

“So do you;” and I meant it. He hadn’t made nearly as many mistakes as I had. The only difference was I always had other people to help me fix them—or just fix them for me in some cases; he didn’t have that leisure or luck. Valetta might have held that against him, but I wouldn’t. If I did, there were a lot of things they should be holding against me and weren’t.

I turned in his arms so we could stargaze, deciding that was enough of that conversation. To be honest, I’m not sure how much stargazing we actually did. It seemed more like we stood together and stargazing was our excuse. When Drei suggested we head back, I created our breeze and waited for him to adjust before flying us back to the apartment rooftop.

Even if the whole rendezvous had been shaky from the start, at least we had spent some time together. I wanted him to be the way he had been—loving and confident, if not still somewhat penitent—but I wanted to be with him more. I didn’t care if that made me selfish or naïve. It’s what I wanted.

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 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.

Vampiric: Chapter Eight, Part 5

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sleeping.”

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

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

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

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

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

Vampiric: Chapter Eight, Part 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vampiric: Chapter Six, Part 6

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Affirmative.”

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

Vampiric: Chapter Four, Part 2

It felt like forever before I came out of the darkness again, which, if they had drugged me, would make sense. Someone was talking, but the words weren’t quite registering in my brain. The conversation was about me, and about moving, and was slowly becoming more understandable the more I came out of the blackness.

“She’s dangerous,” a voice said.

“And I said I want proof,” another, gruff voice snapped.

“What kind of proof?” the first again, sounding uncertain and nasally.

Instead of trying to move my entire arm, I tried just my fingers this time, finding they moved quite easily. I slowly tried sitting up, rubbing my eyes in hopes everything would stop being so blurry.

I saw the light glint off the metal before I heard it slice through the air. Shifting the air, I diverted the object, sending it straight into the wall. One of the people had just thrown a knife at me. Though definitely wide-awake now, I found all I could do for a moment was stare in disbelief at the projectile. These people were crazy.

The only thought in my head said to run, but I wasn’t sure I could do that. Standing, I was so shaky, I was sure I’d fall over. I didn’t know where I was, and suddenly that was a very big deal. I didn’t know how long I’d been here, or if Drei had given up looking for me.

Everything around me was becoming more distinct, and I could see I was in a small, black room with one blinding light overhead—which may be why I had thought it was a white room earlier—and a small work area with small lights over a paper-strewn desk. There was a silvery cart in the corner near the two—

One of the men was moving quickly towards me, something in his hand.

“Take it easy,” he said, brandishing a syringe with a needle big enough to scare any sane person.

The air formed a large slab and smashed him into the opposite wall. I wanted to curse the light for not covering more; there didn’t seem to be a door anywhere, but there had to be. There used to be three people in here and I didn’t see any corpses—then again, did I really want to? I spun around, trying to find some telltale sign of an exit: a handle, a break in the black walls, anything. Then there was sharp prick in my neck, a gloating voice, and the spiraling return of the blackness I had nearly escaped.

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 Ten, Part 3

It stopped raining. I had spent the sleepless night trying to pinpoint the exact moment in time where everything began to change from so blissfully wonderful to extraordinarily turbulent.

The air of my cabin was spoiled with hopelessness, the walls closing in on my depression. Without another thought, I ran through the forest to where the brook babbled and the gray sky clearly threatened another cloudburst. My sneakers were soggy with mud and the brook looked more like a river that had outgrown its bed. My eyes caught something brightly colored further down the overflowing brook, and my feet marched toward it, uncaring of the water sloshing into my shoes or the suctioning mud.

A bright red footbridge had been set up, rather recently from the unused look of it. I wondered who had placed it here, and in the same moment thought I knew the answer. I used the sleeve of my college sweater to clean up some of the water and sat down, removing my sneakers. Dropping the damp shoes beside me, I dangled my feet in the clear rainwater; I followed the created ripples, watching them collide and spread, wondering if I might ever affect people in such a manner—without the drama and broken hearts.

“What are you thinking about?” Nick questioned; he plopped down beside me, my shoes separating us.

“I’m thinking about if any of this was worth coming, and if everything might have turned out okay if I had just stayed instead of running away. If any of this changes anything.”

I refused to look up at him, I knew what was coming, and I realized it was time he knew. If he hated me because of it, perhaps it was better that way. If he loved me all the more, would it change anything? Would I love him more and be willing to prove it the way he wanted me to? Now I didn’t know, but in a moment it would be clear.

“I’m glad you came,” he said, putting off the inevitable. “I never would have fallen in love if you had never come.”

“Stop,” I pleaded, tired of him beating around the bush. He had no problem asking before; was he afraid of what I would say as much as I was? It was the only logic I could find in his actions.

He took a long while building up his courage to ask. In the silence I regretted never telling him before. There were millions of opportunities, the only thing stopping me being the fact I didn’t want him to look at me like a diseased girl who cared more about new purses for every occasion than world hunger.

“Why are you here?” he finally asked. “How did Drei save you?”

I took a huge breath in before saying, “On my seventeenth birthday, I came into my…gifts.”

He sat, watching me as I kept my eyes locked on the new ripples in the water. I told him everything, from Drei explaining elementals and the history and future, the bounty hunter at school, my public freak out, and how Drei gave me an out. The easy out that I was too numb to pass up. I left out my conversation with my father, but included how Drei helped me begin rebuilding, and then the children, and, lastly, him and Valetta.

“I owe Drei more than I want to admit,” I finished softly, my pride hurting as I shared this truth. “He saved me from—from everyone.”

“Even yourself?”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “I wish he hadn’t have had a need to save me; I wish bounty hunters didn’t exist, the government didn’t see us as some abomination. We were just seen as people who can make things better. What makes us so different we can’t be left alone? We always have to look over our shoulders wondering when we have to uproot next. It isn’t fair,” I asserted, holding his jade eyes, searching for answers, afraid of what I might find.

“It’s not their fault,” Nick said quietly, slipping from the footbridge and standing in the water. He didn’t look at me as he said, “Bounty hunters are in a similar boat.”

“It is their fault, Nick,” I cried, not holding anything back. He couldn’t take their side; I wouldn’t allow him to. “After that hunter left, I was terrified of who was watching. It killed me inside not being able to be who I was—who I am. I didn’t know when another might show up, or if he would be so obviously a bounty hunter. You have no idea what it’s like running all the time from someone you can’t be sure is even there. It’s terrifying and nerve-wracking and a thousand other things—constantly; it’s so consummately exhausting trying to figure out who’s a step ahead and who’s still back in square one.”

“I know!” Nick shouted, turning around and grabbing my shoulders. “You don’t know what it’s like to have the government breathing down your neck all because they think you’re one smart cookie and a possible asset.”

Nick stopped suddenly, breathing heavily, but terror obvious on his face. He let go of me and turned away again, running a hand through his hair. It took a couple of cycles to comprehend exactly what he had just said. Pain and anger flooded me. I really had ruined everything. And Nick—the person I thought was on my side—had let me believe a lie.

“Why,” I began, my voice trembling, “if you love me, did you never tell me before you were a bounty hunter?”

He whipped around and reached out to me, trying to comfort me or assure himself it wasn’t as bad as I made it sound.

“Get away from me!” I shouted, leaving him and my shoes behind, afraid I might do something I would regret while the ferocity was still fresh. And to think I had been afraid of what he might think of me.

Elemental: Chapter Eight, Part 4

How could everyone be happy? Like we used to be? Drei would be overwhelmed if Nick left this minute. He’d behave as though Nick had never been here; but then Nick and I would be depressed. There was something about Nick I needed, and was it so wrong to feel needed in return? If I left with him, would Drei still be happy? Would I be at peace? Or would missing Drei overshadow any hope at serenity?

The scenarios played through my mind, each ending with someone hurt. It didn’t seem there was a way to keep everyone happy. Though I needed to decide something, I didn’t know how to make it up to Drei or Nick, or even make myself feel better.

Late in the afternoon, while Nick was playing kickball with the children, I watched Drei call him aside. Curious, I brought their conversation to me, my heart breaking even more.

“Where is Abriel?” Drei demanded, his voice low and violent.

“She’s taking some time off,” Nick responded carefully, not giving in to his fear of Drei, but not fighting…yet. “She needs time to think or something.”

“What did you do?” I watched him grab Nick’s shirt with one hand and shake him threateningly.

“What did I do? What about you?”

“Do not speak to me that way!” Drei growled, lifting Nick off the ground. Nick grabbed Drei’s wrist to support himself. “This is your fault; if you had never come she would have been perfectly fine.”

“Since I came she’s had someone who’s there for her, unlike the way you were treating her.”

Just as Drei wound up a fist to pummel Nick, I forced them apart, a blanket of air catching Nick before he hit the ground and Drei before he lost his balance. Both of them looked around as if expecting to see me; when they didn’t, they went off on each other again, this time keeping their distance.

Their argument made me resolve to figure out something, anything. Continuing on like this would ruin the entire camp, and over something as little as with whom I wanted to spend time. I couldn’t let that happen and be my fault; I didn’t want to destroy everything.

But I couldn’t stop anything if I was unable to decide on a course of action.

Elemental: Chapter Seven, Part 2

 “Like 20 questions?”

“Not really. The object is just asking questions. Each person gets one question per turn. No winner, no rules, you don’t even have to tell the truth; but…it’d be nice if you would;” his jade gems were serious and piercing.

“I’m game;” I smiled, interested in how this would turn out and hoping he would lighten up again. I liked it when he wasn’t so serious; it kept me from being too serious. “You start.”

He leaned back on his hands, his lips scrunched to the side in thought. “Why are you here?”

I thought a moment, judging just how much to tell him. Drei had warned to be careful, and thus far we had all limited how much we tapped into our power, causing him to believe most of it was mere coincidence. What he didn’t think was coincidence, we worked to convince him he imagined. It had become quite a game with the kids; it was rather entertaining hearing the stories and conspiracy theories they developed and built upon until we had forgotten what had started it all.

“Because I can do this,” I said after a moment, picking a flower resembling a fairy hat from beside me, using the air to lift it from my fingers and presenting it to Nick.

He plucked the blossom from the air saying, “Nice parlor trick.”

“Not so much a trick.” I didn’t really want to explain. Showing him was one thing; actually telling him outright was quite another. “My turn, right?”

Nick nodded, inspecting the flower for wires or something, trying to make it levitate as I had moments before, only to watch it fall to the grass repeatedly.

“What was your life like before?”

“Before the fire?” he clarified. At my nod, he continued slowly; “Well, we were happy. Kit and Kate had just started second grade and were ecstatic, finally allowed to buy non-matching clothing sets. My mom had insisted until then that twins were safer dressed alike. Really, she just thought they were cute dressed the same. Dad had been promoted and was talking about moving, which of course led to arguments with my mom; she insisted we stay and not uproot our lives because he wanted to. He was threatening to leave and just send money back, which she said was irrational and that we needed him. And then they’d jump straight to making up;” his cheeks flamed as though he had stumbled across this once and regretted it since.

“I used the instability of their relationship to stay out late. I never did anything I might later regret, but being around people who did somehow made me feel less cowardly. The first time I misjudged the night’s events and showed up late to be caught, they ripped me a new one, then apologized for stunting my growth and just asked if I would stay away from those guys. Course I didn’t…and now I kind of wish I had. Who knows, maybe they still would have been around.”

“I thought you said you were happy?”

“Kit and Kate were, I was, and Dad was; Mom just didn’t want to move, otherwise she was thrilled for Dad and the rest of us.”

“You really miss them,” I stated, thinking about my dad at home, wondering for the first time how he was holding up.

“What was your life like?”

“Before coming here?”

“Well, it is a reciprocal question.” I laughed as he wiggled his eyebrows. The first time he had done that, I tried and he fell over laughing so hard, I couldn’t help but laugh. I could tell from the look in his eyes he was thinking of the same thing.

“Superficial,” I started, forcing myself to look at what my life had really been like. “My dad worked all the time, I never knew my mom, and my mother was in constant denial of there ever being someone else. I was an only child, left to my own devices—one of which was a credit card with a limit I never reached. I had friends who were more like snakes with pearly smiles, but it was better to be on their side than to be against them. And then Drei saved me.”

He waited a moment longer, as though expecting more explanation, but I wasn’t going into the details of why or how he saved me. Nick needed to know that as much as he needed to know why I was here.

When the tension in his relaxed position returned, I knew he was ready for me to ask him another question. “What were you thinking that night, when they were talking about making you leave?”

Nick shrugged and looked out past the kids to the lake.

“Really,” I insisted, resting a hand lightly on his knee. I had been so concerned with everyone else in the room, I didn’t know, and I kind of wanted to.

“Well,” he drawled, as if still thinking. “At first I was just preparing myself for it. Trying to convince myself that it was nothing and at least I had met you, and I was feeling better. I had kind of expected it,” he admitted, “but just the mental preparedness of myself was lacking. But then you argued for me, and I couldn’t believe it. You barely knew me and yet you were fighting for me against one of the most frightening guys I’ve ever met. And I couldn’t stop thinking about how amazing and brave that was.” He didn’t shrug, as I had expected him to, to lighten the weight of his words. Though I had looked away to hide my flaming cheeks, I knew he was staring at me with those piercing eyes, trying to measure my response.

“What were you thinking?” he questioned after a moment.

I didn’t respond right away because I didn’t know how. The night was a blur; I couldn’t even remember what Drei had said really, let alone what I was thinking.

“I don’t think I was,” I began slowly. “I just remember that I knew it was unfair and at one point that I was ready to leave if Drei wanted me to. What he was doing wasn’t right, and it made me—it made me so angry.”

Nick nodded, like he knew this already and just wanted the confirmation. “Your turn.”