Eternal: Chapter Eleven, Part 2

Speaking of the devil, Caroline and the others arrived in cheerful moods, some of them carrying signs that I didn’t know they were bringing. Ian explained it was his idea, and he’d made almost all of them. Everyone looked great and healthy, and Kora even introduced me to her now fiancé, Dan. He even looked like a great guy, considering the last time I had seen him was at a distance.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for Kora,” he said, hugging her shoulders. “Some days she can’t stop talking about what you’re doing and how great you are.”

“I do not,” she said quickly, her cheeks flushing.

“Thank you for making her happy,” I said, touching his shoulder, smiling.

After listening a while to him insist she was the one who made him happy and their following playful banter, I excused myself. Jake and Mikael both hugged me, giving their thanks, while Caroline and I laughed some more over the doll comment. Xenia had brought her friends and introduced me—Katie, Michelle, and Erin were all earth, but Emily and Lisa were regular people who loved and supported their friends—and all of them hugged me.

Other people, of course, kept coming up to say thanks or gush or talk about other things, some asking questions about myself personally or the movement in general. A few more excited children told me and Caroline about their favorite parts of our previous orations and we performed small tricks to entertain them. Drei, at one point, came up behind me and pointed out several people—most of them in groups off to the side here or there, some looking over their shoulders at everyone else—informing me we even had vampiric supporters. Before I could ask, he promised Mitchell and Valetta were going to keep tabs on them so I wouldn’t have to worry.

It wasn’t all happiness, though. There were plenty of protestors, people calling me a demon, a witch, a whore, a devil, among other things. I was even spat at a few times, but I simply smiled at them. I didn’t understand why these individuals felt so much hate and fear when we had done nothing to harm them; I knew we had detractors and I had seen them before, but it still depressed me knowing there were people who would support treating us as less than human.

One of the protestors stopped a foot in front of me and began yelling obscenities in my face, her face turning a purplish red. A woman from Nick’s team stepped between us and calmly asked the woman to step back. Soon, three others from our security detail arrived and escorted the woman and the other protestors away from the area.

“Hey,” Nick said, smiling and appearing at my side. “They didn’t harm anyone, did they?”

“No. They handled it really well.”

“Good. We’ll try to keep anyone else like that back,” he said, looking off in the direction his team had led the detractors.

“How have things been going so far?” I asked, unsure if I should be worried about him or not. There was something strange about him, and it wasn’t just that he looked tired. It was something else; something I couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“So far, it’s pretty smooth. That’s only the second group we’ve had to remove,” he said, turning his bright green eyes to me, smiling easily. He glanced down at his watch just as Drei reappeared.

“We should begin the march,” they said in unison. I couldn’t help but laugh; I couldn’t remember ever thinking the two could be in sync.

After exchanging a smile, Drei nodded and Nick finger whistled, the sound shrill in my ears. “They’re all yours,” he announced, smiling once more before running off to his position.

Turning to face the quieting crowd, their eyes were all watching me, waiting for me to begin. I noticed that not only had the group grown exponentially large in an hour’s time, but a good half of them had signs in their hands, not all made by Ian. Smiling, I opened my arms to them and allowed my voice to carry on the air all the way to the back. “Welcome to the start of a new tomorrow. Shall we begin?”

A cheer erupted through the crowd. I waited only a moment before turning around and starting down the street, Drei beside me, most of my council a step behind us, and so much running through my mind I could have sworn my heart was beating at breakneck speed. There we were, tens of thousands of people, if not a hundred thousand or more, following me. Following me into a future we could only hope would be better.

Eternal: Chapter Ten, Part 1

Chapter Ten: Counting Down

Though I knew I wouldn’t use a pre-prepared speech, I still sat with Caroline while she wrote it. If nothing else, I could use it to go over my main points and wing it, as that seemed to work for me. Besides, if I wasn’t there, she might have switched it into her style of speech, the kind to attract people through anger, not through informed choice. Yes, that meant fewer followers, but that was how I wanted it. Level-headed people were easier to lead and talk to than hotheads.

When I toured the second time, Drei came with me. He was doing better and took his directive seriously. I slept every night—long enough for it to be considered sleeping—and ate regularly…well, drank. He was never overbearing about any of it—except maybe the sleeping thing. It still felt like we were in a romantic relationship, which was important.

Afterwards, both Caroline and I had several requests to speak at universities and various other forums. We accepted what we could handle—Drei and Ian both having a strong word in the decision as they knew our boundaries better than it seemed we did, at times.

Everything was looking great, even if there was still a huge chunk to do yet. There were also still the vocal naysayers and the bounty hunters shadowing our travel. We always had to be cautious when returning home, trying to shake any who may be following us before nearing our neighborhood. It seemed we were successful at this, but I suspected their directive had changed from capture to something potentially more sinister. My schedule kept me busy enough, though, my brain hardly had time to fall down that dark rabbit hole of guessing.

Over the next five and a half months, we didn’t have anything specifically planned except preparing for the march. It was Nick and Ian’s idea that I take a few more speaking engagements over those months so it didn’t feel like we had abandoned them, which Valetta and Mitchell supported.

Valetta and Mitchell were preparing to leave on rounds again, ensuring everyone still felt content and comfortable now that the main message was well circulated. We even had air time from our second tour and extra engagements. The site was publicized for free on news stations; although not all of what they said was positive, enough people had seen the commercials or heard us speak that a little bit of bad publicity didn’t hurt us much.

It was interesting to read what people wrote on the forums about the different views of the networks. While some found it outright hilarious, others were really upset by it, venting their anger in long-winded rants. They made a lot of good points—some of which could be found elsewhere on the site—and I found those touching. People cared enough to be angry, and that was a compliment. A huge one.

During the days, Nick was selecting his security detail, interviewing a wide variety of individuals to ultimately choose thirty people. Drei was helping him as he had been on Caroline’s muscle squad and had a way of reading people, as well as intimidating those who weren’t up to the challenge. Although Nick sometimes complained, I could tell he was somewhat grateful. Fifteen—out of 18—that he had already interviewed had cracked under Drei’s gaze, and Nick had liked them as well. Considering Nick had cracked under that same gaze only once that I could remember—mostly because Drei had bared his fangs—none of those 15 were asked back, for the time being.

While they were busy with that, Caroline, Xenia, and Kora were collaborating on the speech—Kora and Xenia mostly through video conferencing. Most days that’s where I was. Since I would have to follow the speech this time, it was important I actually knew what I was supposed to say. The first part was, again, about elementals, this time with demonstrations as I spoke. From there, we segued into what the government was doing in their hidden facilities, then moving into our rights as people and a need for liberation. Caroline and I spent several nights, just the two of us, trying to figure out how to end it. Part of me wanted to just tell her I wanted to hand everything over to her at the end since that’s when it stopped being so idea based and real action would need to be taken. That was her forte.

She probably would have turned me down if I had brought it up; not because she wouldn’t want to accept but because she might still think she wasn’t strong enough after what had happened to me. Caroline was strong, though. But even if I had told her that, she wouldn’t have believed me.

Eventually we decided to leave the end up to improvisation. I could read the crowd and know what needed to come next, what would make for the perfect ending. It felt right that we didn’t write the end, as though something was going to happen and change how it would wind up anyway. But I didn’t want to be a pessimist. Everything was going to be as close to perfect as was possible. It had to be.

After we finished the beginning of the speech, we sent it to Ian, who was working with Mikael and Jake—again mostly through video conferencing—to work on the choreography. Instead of demonstrations at the end or interrupting the speech, we had decided to incorporate it into the beginning in ways similar to the demonstrations in the commercial. Ian, being the artistic soul among us, was heading the choreography. Occasionally, I stopped in to see what they had worked out and it amazed me how ideal it was. Though it wasn’t what we would usually do if we used our powers for fun—because it was artistic—it was graceful and poetic. Ian was going to work with Caroline on her part of it as she was the only fire elemental I had who was willing to admit it.

Jake had started calling and messaging me semi-frequently. He was doing better, slowly returning to the way he had been; he would never be that way fully again, but he was working on being more level-headed and warmer towards people. Any time he was having trouble venting or letting go of something that had happened, he contacted me. And as soon as I could, we would talk it out. Sometimes he called just to talk about how great his day was, or to tell me about a girl he had met who supported our campaign. On those days, I’d ask if he had thought about facing his dad again. The answer was always no, though, over the months, he had been increasingly more hesitant to reply. Eventually, I knew he’d say yes, and if he asked me to come with him, I would. But until then, I’d ask another question, usually about the girl, and he’d perk right up again.

Kora was even beginning to relax. Her boyfriend had asked her about the movement and about her involvement—she said he had told her he was interested—and she was honest with him about everything. After she told him, she asked if he thought she was a freak and wanted to break up. But instead, he told her he loved her even more and asked what he could do to help. When she told us during a video conference she was glowing. All of her worrying had been for nothing.

Xenia still had her hair dyed, recently changing it to a pale blue, but she was happier, as well. Over one of her breaks, she stopped by and thanked me. It turned out a couple of her friends were also elementals—granted they were earth—and all of them felt better about being able to be open and honest. She said some people were scared and still thought they were unnatural and dangerous, but most people thought it was cool.

And Mikael was still Mikael. He was still happy and optimistic, supportive. Some days I wondered if he missed his family at all, just because there was an occasional sadness about him. When I would ask, he just shook it off and insisted he was fine. I wasn’t sure I believed him, but I knew, no matter what it was, he’d be okay. If he wasn’t, I hoped he knew he could talk to me about whatever it was.

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 Nine, Part 6

Drei had chosen the exact location for this speech to be the gazebo where, on sunnier days, local musicians would showcase their talent and school bands would hold fundraisers. It was a huge, well-kept, white gazebo with intricate lattice work and was in a well shaded area. Nick and I arrived an hour before it was scheduled to begin. I had left behind my notebook and notes, not wanting to carry them with me. Though I had it memorized, I was beginning to feel nervous again, wishing I had brought it along after all.

“You’ll be great,” Nick insisted, squeezing my shoulder. “Remember, I’ll be in the audience, by that tree,” he added, pointing to a tall oak tree straight out from one of the entrances to the gazebo.

Touching his hand, soaking in the comfort it was trying to offer, I nodded, knowing he had to leave and show up after other people had, if anyone did. He would stay nearby should I need him, but we wanted to limit the number of faces directly related to our campaign for the time being.

He walked away, looking back once as if to assure me he would be under that tree before I started speaking. That I wasn’t some puppy he was going to leave by the side of the road and never return to. Not that I had been thinking that. Really. All right, maybe a little.

I sat, concentrating on breathing, relaxing until Nick’s cell phone alarm went off in my pocket—doubling as a reminder he had to return. As I breathed, I tried not to think if I was dressed appropriately in my blue jeans, long, loose-fitting blouse, and sweater jacket; I attempted to stop my brain from going through opinions whoever showed might already have of me, how I would work around that, and if I could at all. I wasn’t succeeding very well.

Slowly, my silence was infiltrated as the park started filling with people, some of them stopping to stare at me while others just stood around chatting. Focusing on the first words of my speech, I tried droning them out, forcing myself not to be concerned with their words

There was a soft buzzing in my back pocket. Pulling out the cell phone, I turned it off, exhaling slowly until there was no air in my lungs.

Show time.

Standing up, I faced the oak tree Nick had pointed out, surprised to see a good sized group of people before me. Some sat on picnic blankets, relaxing with friends; some had brought lawn chairs; others were standing under or leaning against trees. A shush fell across them like dominoes as the people closest to the gazebo noticed me there.

Part of me, the part scared senseless right then, wanted to walk down the steps and pretend I had just been waiting in the gazebo for the speaker. To let it end here with all of them disappointed, never to be bothered again.

Glancing around, my eyes caught Nick’s, and I knew I couldn’t let them down. Most of them had probably been avid listeners and followers of Caroline’s revolution when it had ended—indirectly my fault. They had been waiting for a change, craving one. I couldn’t reward their patience and devotion with more disappointment.

Swallowing, I stepped forward, forcing myself to calm down, at least on the surface. I wasn’t Caroline; I could draw attention, but I didn’t know how to command it as she did. The beginning she had written was what worked for her, but standing before all of these expectant people now, I knew it wasn’t what was going to work for me.

“Welcome,” I greeted, opening my arms to all of them. “That you’re here today means you’ve seen the commercials; you’ve visited the site; now you want to know more,” I started, risking looking around at everyone. My nerves were still going crazy but at least it wasn’t showing in my voice. Nick gave me a thumbs up. “For anyone who hasn’t read the literature on the site, allow me to summarize. There are people who look normal, have regular jobs, lead average lives, but are different. They can control one of the four elements: water, fire, earth, air.” I had thought I might do something to emphasize this point, but decided to leave the theatrics until someone asked. Right now, the message was the important part.

“As I said, they are regular people, just like everyone here, but a little different. Not different in a bad way,” I added, still on guard but starting to relax. It was hard reading just their expressions and I didn’t want to distract myself with reading their impressions just yet. The general feeling was patience, calm, and interest; doubt was only in a few spots. I’d see how that changed in a moment when I went into the heavy stuff. “Instead of treating people like this, like me, with the same respect as everyone one else, though, our government chooses to hunt us. To gather a special detail of people to search for us, find us, and take us into captivity for research to use our gifts, against our will, as a weapon. Gifts that are meant to be given to everyone to improve life, to assist us in coexisting with our environment; gifts that have been at work silently bringing change into our lives for centuries.

“But these gifts won’t be around forever,” I stated, feeling stronger, feeling empowered by finally saying what no one else would. There was no turning back after this moment; no one could erase spoken words, even if they managed to erase those written. “The elements endow us to benefit as many as possible, but that’s their only purpose. They won’t stand for being used as a weapon, or being misused in any way.” Saying this, I thought of Mom and knew she would be proud if she could be here—this was one of her lessons to me, after all. But I also sensed the increasing doubt among my listeners. This was the abstract part now, the part I’d have to back soon with proof. “Some of you may remember another revolution, aimed at the government. Everything that was the case then, is still the case now,” I said, beginning to talk more with my hands. “But this is a case of civil rights, one of many faults in a structure that is failing. Another omission in an ever growing list.”

No one had left yet, and no one had completely lost interest; even the doubters were still listening, still staring at me. Even as they grew more skeptical, something about whatever I was saying was rooting them here. I wasn’t sure what exactly, but I figured it didn’t matter so long as they kept listening.

“This blatant disregard of our rights as citizens—as human beings—breaks apart families, ruins relationships, forces all of us into hiding…until now. We refuse to stay silent any longer. We want to live peacefully and help where we can. To do that, we need all the help you can give.”

Eternal: Chapter Nine, Part 2

Ian stopped by later that day as I was preparing supper. Nick was helping me, but decided to run to the grocery store for some rolls when Ian arrived. I know he knew I was having individual conferences with people, so I wasn’t sure if he’d gone because of that or simply because he really wanted rolls at dinner.

“Hey, love,” Ian greeted as Nick ran out the door. He kissed my cheek and asked, “Would you like some help.”

“You don’t have to,” I said, washing my hands. “I can finish later.”

“What are you making?” he asked, rolling up his sleeves and washing his hands.

“Veggie fried rice with sesame chicken. Nick says he knows a great recipe for the chicken,” I answered. “I’m cleaning the chicken. You can cut it up if you want.”

“How big?”

“Bite sized chunks.”

He nodded, taking up the knife and working on the breast already on the cutting board. “So do you have a new tagline?”

“Of course.” I had been thinking about it for some time and decided to stick with miracles as the central theme. “The next set will be based around ‘miracles are unstoppable,’ because after that set airs, no matter what happens, no matter what people want to believe, they know,” I said, working on removing excess fat and bits of gristle from the next breast. “Most people won’t want to live with the guilt, and even if they can, someone else will step up.”

“You’re right about that,” he said, setting the knife down. “What do you want me to do with these?”

“There’s a bowl to your right;” I pointed to the ceramic bowl with the chunks Nick had already cut up. “The last set of commercials will be based on ‘miracles never die.’ That one isn’t aimed to the people as much as it is to the government. They need to know this won’t stop with just us. Others like us, and even unlike us, are tired. Tired of being lied to, exploited, mistreated in general.”

“I can do that,” he assured me as I handed him the next breast, starting on the last one. “Did I tell you how much I love designing your ‘miracle’ commercials?”

“Only a couple of times;” I smiled, unable to help myself.

“Well, I do.” His eyes darted my way for a fraction of a second, reflecting the grin on his lips. “How have you been doing?”

“Good, thank you,” I responded, not even thinking about it. It was one of those automatic responses hardwired into me; I would have said ‘good, thank you’ even if the world was burning to ashes around me. “Yourself?”

“I’m good.” After a moment, he added, “But you weren’t.”

He finished chopping as I finished cleaning. I handed him the last breast and then washed my hands; then I scrubbed the sink with hot, soapy water and bleach.

“I’m fine now,” I persisted, rinsing the suds down the drain. I checked the rice, though I wasn’t sure how to tell if the rice cooker was working or not; I hadn’t used one before, but Nick seemed to trust it.

“But you weren’t.”

I wanted to retort snidely about how that was obvious, but Ian wasn’t attacking me. I knew that. He was doing what Caroline hadn’t—though I had wanted her to. “Why does it matter?”

“Because I felt it,” Ian said, looking up from what was left of the chicken breast. “You’re my friend, Abriel—Leirba—whatever you prefer. Maybe it’s because you’re also air, but my connection to you is different from anyone else. When you hurt, I feel it as if it were my own pain.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, turning my back to him and going about cleaning up. I didn’t want him, or anyone else, to feel what I felt, especially not when I had been that badly off. But I couldn’t control that, and I doubted he could either. If he could have, I was sure he would have stopped after I almost died—well, did die, kind of.

“Did you want to talk about it?” Dropping the last of the chicken into the bowl, he placed the cutting board in the sink and ran some hot bleach water for it to soak. He washed his hands, saying, “I have time if you wanted to.”

“I can’t,” I said, trying to find something else to do and discovering the rest of it Nick would have to finish as he hadn’t left instructions for me to follow.

“Can’t…or won’t?” The way he said it wasn’t hurtful or mean, but it still stung. No one else had questioned me about that, and I had started to assume people wouldn’t. Now that someone had, I couldn’t remember how I had planned to reply.

“I’ve talked to Drei already, and I am feeling better. But I can’t really talk about it with anyone else because it would lead to a conversation about something I can’t discuss.” I knew it sounded terrible and pathetic, but I hoped it would sate some fraction of his curiosity.

“I won’t ask;” Ian walked around to the other side of the counter and sat down. “But I’m here if you ever want to, even if you’re not supposed to.”

Silence found its way between us for a short while before I decided to ask the question I hadn’t been able to ask Caroline: “Is something wrong with Caroline?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, leaning forward on his elbows.

“She seemed weird when she was here earlier. Like she was overcompensating for something by being less argumentative.”

Ian’s head bobbed slightly, though he didn’t say anything. It was like he was debating whether or not to tell me about it. I would understand if he didn’t—it was only fair. But I was hoping he’d find it decent to share.

“Her parents dropped by for a visit a few days ago and finally left today,” he said, almost as if that answered it.

A couple years ago, when I had met Caroline’s parents, they seemed like perfectly normal people who may have loved their only daughter a touch too much. However, appearances, especially in the world Caroline and I both hailed from, were everything but meant nothing about the real person underneath. And there was definitely something about her parents because, that entire vacation, even Ian had been stressed. It was the first time I had seen him stressed in a subdued, biting his tongue, way. And Caroline’s stress had been off the charts. I had never had the opportunity to know why that was, and I had been too preoccupied with my own problems to ask then.

“What is it about her parents she doesn’t like?” I asked, hopefully in a way that suggested I wasn’t forcing him to answer.

He opened his mouth to say something before closing it. Exhaling, his lips curling upward, he noted, “You never got to be alone with them. They are two real pieces of work.”

Eternal: Chapter Eight, Part 4

Later that week, Drei had arranged for us to meet with the Council. The vampire—the one even more stoic than Drei—drove us there. This time, he permitted us roll down the windows so I wasn’t starved when we arrived. About an hour after we left, the air changed from fresh to stale. The window wasn’t down far enough for me to see why, but I figured it partially explained why the area around the house had seemed archaic.

We were told to wait in the same dusty room while the Council assembled. This time, however, instead of their courtroom equivalent, we were brought into a more office-like space. There was one large desk, at which the head of the Council was seated. Then there was a table to either side with a total of seven chairs. Tudor, the vampire who had sat under the presiding head, sat immediately to the right of the desk on the table of four. Strangely enough, they all appeared to be dressed casually and each had a mug of warm blood on the table before them.

“You may deliver the update, Mr. Valmoritim,” Tudor announced in a lighter voice than he had used the last time we’d met.

I handed Drei the papers and he passed them to Tudor, who offered them to the head vampire. He leafed through them as Drei returned to my side. We waited for him to stop, because I knew he would. The commercials were cryptic. Just because the site, currently, was set up to reveal the nature of elementals didn’t mean it couldn’t be altered to reveal the existence of other hiding groups. We knew he would recognize this, and that’s when I had to talk them into patience.

“Tudor, what is your opinion of these?” There was the edge to his voice; the tell-tale sign he was displeased. Until they brought it up, I had decided to play dumb—and resist admitting how much I loathed these games.

“I believe these are too general,” Tudor stated, his brow furrowed, wrinkling his crown even more than it already was. “Do you realize, Miss Jones, these could lead to the discovery of every hiding organization?”

“I realize it may seem that way,” I replied, meeting his gaze, despite how difficult it was to look into those black orbs. “But let me assure you, they will all remain hidden.”

“For how long?” Tudor asked calmly, the edge in his voice as well.

“So long as they choose. This has nothing to do with them;” I folded my hands in front of me. “I can swear to you that this is a movement centering around the civil rights of elementals and exposing the corruption of the current government. What do vampires and other such groups have to do with that?”

There was a lot of nodding and murmuring along the table before Tudor spoke again. “You are responsible for informing the other organizations of this. We will not interfere with the current goings-on.”

“Thank you,” I said, bowing my head to them. That was easier than I had expected.

“Miss Jones,” the presiding vampire called, staring intently at me. I met his gaze. Maybe I had spoken too soon. “Should we feel endangered by your movement, we will end it.”

“I understand.”

“Dismissed,” Tudor granted.

In the hallway, Drei hugged me, kissing the top of my head.

“You amaze me,” he whispered, holding me a second longer before letting go.

I waved it off. “That was easy compared to some of this.” Mentally, I reminded myself to start Valetta and Mitchell on speaking with the other groups’ leaders about their privacy and secrecy. I wasn’t keen on being summoned to meet with werewolves or fairies and the like.

“But that is the last obstacle, Abriel,” he said, his fingertips brushing my cheek as he tucked hair behind my ear. “The commercial will air in a week, and we will be three weeks ahead of schedule.”

“It’s a good start. But we still have a middle and an end to go.”

He looked ready to say something more before our escort led us downstairs to the car. I wished I knew what he had been about to say. I had a feeling it had something to do with enjoying the moment. Not live in the moment—since living wasn’t something we could technically do—but enjoy the moment.

Perhaps it was a strange thought to have; they seemed more frequent, though I couldn’t tell if they made me feel bitter or grieved. I tried not to think on it too much. Sure, it wasn’t healthy to hold it inside, but I needed to be calm and collected; I was in charge and needed to appear as such.

But how long could that last?

Eternal: Chapter Eight, Part 2

“Can I get you anything?” I asked, breaking the silence.

“No, thank you.” After another moment, she asked, “What are your plans for today?”

“I’m meeting with the lawyers and explaining what we’re doing with the movement, also giving them what we have so far since it seems we’re mostly done anyway. That way they can look over it and make sure there’s nothing illegal…yet.”

“Yet?” One of her eyebrows arched.

“We are taking down the government,” I reminded her good-naturedly. “That isn’t exactly legal.”

“What is anymore?” Nick inquired, walking through the door and surprising us both. I hadn’t expected him for another hour. “Here’s what you asked for,” he added, handing me two writeable disks. “The information for accessing the website is in with that disk.” He pointed at the bottom disk.

“Thank you.” Opening my binder, I slipped the disks into the front pocket. “Valetta, if I had another set of disks made, would that be okay or would it be better to print the site layout and frames of the commercial?”

“Printed would be better;” she sat forward on her elbows, resting her chin on her interlocked fingers. “Technology doesn’t tend to work there.”

“This is what you asked for,” Nick said, gesturing sharply to the binder, his brow furrowed.

“No, this is perfect, Nick,” I said, turning toward him. “I need another set. This time a printout of the site layout, no coding, and a storyboard using frames of the commercial.”

“What for?”

“We have…stakeholders.”

“Who?”

I looked at Valetta and she gave me an almost imperceptible shake of her head. “I can’t say.”

“Okay…” His brow knitted in confusion, and his eyes were tinged with sadness. “You’re going to tell me sometime, right?”

“Of course,” I said, smiling, though I was unsure I’d ever be able to tell him.

He smiled—that beautiful crooked smile—and I felt my stomach twist in guilt.

Nick went to his room for whatever reason and then left again, probably to start the others on my latest request. Since Nick had come to stay with us, I sometimes wondered what my life would have been like if I had been with him. Granted, that meant not having Drei, but would things have been less complicated? Probably not, though it didn’t stop the question from arising.

“He can never know,” she whispered.

“I know,” I said, still staring at the door. “But I don’t think I could ever admit that to him.”

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 Ten, Part 5

Caroline and I were finishing prepping for the party they had planned for my birthday—lucky 22, Caroline insisted—w hen her cell phone started singing a rock hit.

“I’ll get it,” I said, twisting my hair behind my head so it would be ready for a clip. “Hello?”

“Turn on the news,” Ian said, exhilarated. “Caroline needs to see it, too.”

 Keeping the phone to my ear with the help of my shoulder, I picked up the remote as I asked, “Which one?”

“They’re all playing the same thing.”

“Who is it?” Caroline asked, donning a lacy black choker to go with her simple v-neck dress.

“Ian,” I said, finding a news station and seeing the red letter C hovering over the newscaster’s shoulder in a window.

“Holy crap,” Caroline gasped, standing beside me.

“It seemed last night’s broadcast from the infamous C was not just a prank,” the woman was saying as another window popped up with a frozen image of Caroline’s lips—the only thing anyone outside of our company ever saw. “While most viewers expected nothing to come of it, this afternoon’s mail revealed very much the opposite. Each household in the nation, according to our reports, received one of these crimson letters in her namesake.”

“We did it,” Ian said, startling me. I had forgotten I was still clamping the phone to my ear with my shoulder—which was easy enough to do as I had released my hair and dropped the remote when I had found the station. “The techs, your idea, my technique, her project…it’s really starting.”

The newscaster kept talking about the shock of receiving it, taking time to read through some of the online comments from the day as her image was replaced with photos they had taken of households displaying the sign in their area.

I was speechless. There was nothing to say. Ian had already said it best. We did it. We had officially taken the step from talk to walk and people were responding positively. People really were with us. More than we had thought, even.

“Give me the phone,” Caroline demanded. Her fingers wrapped around it as soon as it was within reach. “We’re brilliant!” She wrapped her free arm around my shoulders. “It’s finally here.”

Vampiric: Chapter Ten, Part 4

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s what I haven’t figured out.”

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

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

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

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

“Great thinking, Abs,” Caroline praised

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

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

It was ingenious. Provided we could pull it off.

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