A Tale of Two, Part 1: Caroline

September 1, 1891

Mother has given this journal to me to record my thoughts in this critical period before I am fully a woman. I love no man, nor have met any for whom I truly care, so I do not see how this will happen anytime soon.

“One must not be so pessimistic,” Mother says. She does not know what it is like to be a woman of seventeen and longing for a companion. How could she? She was married at fifteen to Father.

I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Caroline Smith. I am the oldest of three children in our family. Father is a farmer, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Mother is a homemaker, occasionally working as a seamstress when money is scarce. We are not wealthy people, but we survive.

Lately Mother has been working for a seamstress in London so we can save money to move to America. All her friends have already left for the new world. I fear she is ashamed because she has not the money to go. She may also be ashamed that I still am unwed. But if I were not here, who would there be to care for John and Marie? Father is always busy in the fields. He has not a moment to spare. And with Mother always out to work, I am the only one left. Of course, if John ever decided to grow up, he might be a reasonable candidate for the job. That is if Father did not recruit him to the fields first.

John is a boy of thirteen. He is old enough to work, by Father’s standards, but is too busy drawing and writing to notice much else. I must give him credit for keeping Marie busy while I clean the house. She loves to watch him draw his crazy imagination onto paper.

Marie is only five, but she is an intelligent beauty. Her eyes glow whenever John takes out his charcoal. Mother says she needs to learn stitching soon, but with everyone so busy, I doubt she will.

Father has threatened several times to make them pay for their charcoal and paper; Marie takes a piece of John’s stash and tries to mimic him. I think it is fascinating. Her sketches never come out quite like John’s, but both are beautifully made.

Truly, if I had the choice, I would never marry. Anyone my parents choose would haul me into the city. I am terrified of the city. It is so different from the countryside of my childhood.

Marie and John beckon me to begin supper, so I must leave you for now.

Eternal: Epilogue

Epilogue: Beginning Eternity

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

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

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

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

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

“Abriel,” Drei calls from behind me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eternal: Chapter Ten, Part 3

Two weeks passed, with only two to go. We were mostly prepared, and what we weren’t ready for we never would be, so it didn’t matter. I tried to stay away from everyone, the anxiety palpable almost to the point of unbearable; I noticed Ian wasn’t around much either unless it was just the two of us, sometimes Drei as well, hanging out in our apartment. Even that wasn’t often.

Then again, I was also busy. No one knew with what, but it was my project for Drei, my gift back to him. Whenever I’d had time, I had been searching, slowly working through a long list of burial sites and graveyards, marking off the ones that didn’t have what I was looking for. There were a couple of times I thought I had found them, but upon closer inspection, they were too old or too young, or too recent—the decay not far enough along.

Unexpectedly, not in a cemetery, but just outside of one, was one deep grave. Inside, from what I could tell, were buried two little girls in a single casket. They were barefoot, no suggestion of shoes anywhere in their grave. What was left of their clothes suggested a flimsy dress—flimsy from how little there was left of it. They seemed to be in approximately the right stage of decay, based on my brief research on the subject.

Pulling out of my mapping, I checked where I had been looking. A small graveyard overseas, to the north and near the coast. Before I told Drei, I wanted to check it out for myself, but knew I didn’t have the time or the means. Mapping it again, I was sure it was Avery and Ashlyn.

I could have asked Valetta or Mitchell to check for me, but what if they told me I was crossing a line? I should keep my nose to myself and not even think about opening those old wounds for him, especially if I loved him. It seemed all I could imagine was the worst, no matter how hard I tried to come up with anything that was positive.

Those thoughts didn’t help, though. As I contemplated telling Drei, the words from my scenario kept playing through my head. No one had even said them, but they were there nonetheless. If you love him, you won’t tell him. And as those words stopped, the thought that he deserved to know kept pushing me towards it. I was caught between a rock and a hard place and I wasn’t even sure how. It was all in my head but it all seemed real.

I finally broke down the last night of April, the night before the march. Or, more precisely, it had been bothering me for so long, Drei finally drew it out of me.

“What is the matter?” he asked as we sat together on the couch, running his fingers through my hair as he set down the paper he had been reading—the front page was chock full of information for the public on tomorrow.

“Nothing,” I said, shaking it off and closing my eyes. He didn’t know; he didn’t need to know, I told myself in an attempt to cover up the voice telling me he should know.

Glancing down, I felt him inspect me, looking for some clue as to what I was thinking. “It is unhealthy to keep it to yourself.”

Unhealthy. I was reminded of my thoughts about Jake bottling his emotions; that was the word I had used then to describe it. And now Drei was telling me the same thing because I was bottling it up. But I didn’t want to believe it. This was different; this was me, and Drei, and his sisters. This was my relationship, not anger and sadness at my family. It was different, not at all the same thing.

“You can tell me,” he insisted, pulling me from my thoughts.

Glancing up at his pale, amethyst eyes, I knew he was telling the truth. I could tell him; he wouldn’t let it ruin what we had, and I could finally get it off my chest.

“I think I found your sisters,” I whispered, looking away. Though his eyes promised a calm reaction, my mind still warily remembered some of his past reactions. He had the ability to be cruel, even to me.

“How?”

I hadn’t expected that; my voice had sounded so soft to me I thought his first question would be for me to repeat. But it wasn’t, and that threw me for a moment. “Over the last couple of years I’ve been mapping graveyards and burial grounds, trying to find them for you,” I said timidly, still unable to gaze up at him. If he had looked away from me, I might have been able to, but his gaze was steady. “And I think I found them. I have it marked on a map, if you wanted to see;” I stood to retrieve it.

Drei captured my hand, stopping me. He stood, taking my other hand in his, trying to catch my eyes.

“Abriel,” he said, softly but clearly, and our eyes met. His eyes were watery on the edges but glinting, the slightest curve to his lips. “I appreciate what you have done for me.”

“It wasn’t anything special;” I broke our gaze and glanced around the room. His eyes were so intensely focused on me and I couldn’t read any emotion coming from him; the combination unnerved me. “I just thought I could help, since I had some extra time and, you know, some—”

He chuckled, a deep rippling sound filling the space between us. “There is no need to babble,” he said, lifting my chin. “You have done nothing wrong.”

Looking up at him, he was wearing a full smile now, white teeth and all. “Really? You’re not mad?” I asked, feeling myself shiver. Why was I shivering?

Shaking his head, his shaggy hair jostling a little, he elaborated, “I am not upset with you. You have done me a great service, Abriel,” he persisted, closing the gap between us and folding me into his arms. “Why are you shivering?”

I wrapped my arms around his waist, shaking my head. I didn’t know why I was still shivering. It wasn’t fear, because I wasn’t frightened anymore by how he might react. He had already reacted, and it was the best case scenario I hadn’t been able to imagine.

Then it dawned on me: I didn’t want him to say he was going to find his sisters’ graves instead of being with me tomorrow. I wasn’t sure if I could lead that many people through the capitol to the reflecting pool and then speak to them. Inspire them. Say what hadn’t been said in so long. Not if he wasn’t there. Nick may have helped my first tour, but this was a larger scale and it was much more important I didn’t completely foul it up.

But Drei had waited so long for this, and I wouldn’t stop him if he decided to go. I loved him; I had found them because I knew not knowing where they were had haunted him; he deserved to have closure so that wound could finally heal.

“I’ll get the map,” I said, still holding onto him, “so you can go find them. Tell me if I was right.”

When I went to pull away from him, Drei didn’t let me go. He just held me tighter and I couldn’t fathom why. He wanted this, had waited centuries for this, and now he was stopping me from giving him the information that had so long eluded him?

“Tomorrow is important for you,” he whispered into my ear. “I will be there for you.”

“But you’ve waited hundreds of years,” I argued, not understanding why he was doing this. He should be going to see if I was right, not staying here with me.

“I have waited hundreds of years, as you have said,” he repeated, holding my gaze, not letting me look away this time. “I can wait a few more days.”

“But—”

“Abriel,” he interrupted—having done this more frequently over the past months, especially when it came to arguing about sleep or the like, it didn’t concern me as much as it used to. “I would like to go, but tomorrow I will be here for you.”

Biting my bottom lip, I withheld my argument. I didn’t understand why he would put it off longer than he needed to, but maybe when I was as old as he was now, I’d understand. Tonight, I wouldn’t; I could be sure of that much.

“Besides,” Drei added, his eyes focusing on something else, “I would like you to be with me when I go.”

“Of course,” I promised, tightening my arms around him.

We stood that way for what seemed like a long time, though it couldn’t have been that long. It was still the night before the march when he suggested I sleep, kissing my temple and then leading me to the room.

I didn’t fall asleep right away, though I honestly couldn’t remember falling asleep at all that night. My brain seemed completely preoccupied with trying to figure out why he was putting me before them when they had been important to him longer. And as I asked myself that over and over again, the only answer that came to mind was that he loved me, and love made us do strange things.

Eternal: Chapter Two, Part 6

For the next week we went out as a group every night—whether it was dancing or walking—and we stayed up late into the day. A few times Drei and I would excuse ourselves and fly off somewhere to be alone. Once, he told me it was possibly the best of my experiments, though that was after he was better at it.

Despite the happier times, I still felt poorly thinking Drei had failed at something. So I decided I would help him succeed at something else he hadn’t finished yet: finding his sisters. Before he had explained that he had turned me, he told me the story of his own turning, abridging the events leading up to where he met me. That story included the death of his younger twin sisters, and the disappearance of their bodies—the location of which he had yet to discover.

In the time before it was suggested I should sleep, I would pull up a map on the laptop that displayed all known cemeteries and burial grounds in his home country, and slowly began making my way through mapping them. What I was looking for was very specific, and since they were all dead, I could tuck the air closer to increase accuracy. I just needed to find two children, girls, buried next to each other or at least close together. They were young girls, too, so that helped cut down the possibilities.

I didn’t tell Drei what I was doing; I didn’t want him to discourage me, or feel badly because of it. When he asked, I’d only tell him I was practicing. Any pair of graves that matched what I was looking for I made note of, not able to visit them yet, but knowing I’d manage to forget a few if I didn’t. There weren’t many that fit into my specific search, but there were still more than I had expected.

At the end of the week, the summons came. All four of us were to face the Council, and we would be picked up the next night for the proceedings.

“It will be okay,” Drei whispered into my hair, holding me tightly. “They cannot keep me from you, no matter how they try.”

“What’s the worst that can happen?” I needed to know; I had a right to know.

Valetta and Mitchell both looked away; Drei seemed to just hold me tighter. That wasn’t comforting; nor was it an answer, for that matter.

Pulling slightly away from him, I hit his chest and demanded, “Tell me.”

Meeting my gaze, he swallowed hard before saying, “The worst ruling is death. But being an elemental, that might not be what they choose. We may be separated.”

May. In that context, it wasn’t my friend; in that context, it sounded more like an enemy that couldn’t be overcome by any means. That wasn’t very reassuring.

Nodding, I changed my mind. I didn’t really want to think about it anymore; I wasn’t sure if I preferred knowing the worst consequence. Being separated was one thing; death was another altogether. Neither were even a semi-pleasant, “I can deal with this” kind of thing.

Naïvely, I thought not thinking about it would make it seem further away. Would make that night and day longer so the hearing wasn’t so close. That hopefully, by some sheer luck, it could all fall away into oblivion never to be seen or heard of again.

Instead, it felt like hardly any time passed between our brief conversation concerning the hearing and when we were climbing into the black town car that would take us to whatever fate was waiting.

Vampiric: Chapter Twelve, Part 2

“The property was engulfed in flame by the time I returned. At first I was stunned, not understanding what was happening. Then I rushed inside, searching for my sisters. Ashlyn and Avery were already…they were so still when I found them. From what I could tell, they had been restless and playing a game in the parlor. The door had been left barely open and my sisters had been pressed against it as if that is where they had fallen. I carried their asphyxiated corpses outside, unable to stand the thought of them burning. I ran back inside for my parents, finding them dead and bloodied, their skin already beginning to burn. The rancid smell was embedding itself into my skin and burning my nostrils, so I left, unable to do anything more.

“When I returned to where I had left my sisters, she sat there, waiting; my sisters were nowhere to be seen. She taunted me, saying I had brought this upon them. No one refused her, and that was why they had to be taken from me. Then she wrapped her arms around me, beginning her seductions anew. I tried to kill her, not fully understanding what or who she was, but knowing I wanted her dead;” his anger seeped into his words, his voice shaking again but from emotions far more sinister than pain. “Knowing she deserved to be dead.

“I was seized from behind by two of her boys, several more circling us. She traced a finger along my face, explaining how she loved my energy and was glad I had made it difficult for her. Then she bit me.

“When I woke a few days later, I found she had changed me, one of her boys explaining what that meant exactly. He said I was hers, and that meant she could use me however she wished; then he fed me my first meal. I was shocked when he threw the woman at me. She was bleeding from a cut in her neck and I realized how famished I was. That woman was not my last, but each that I fed on, I regretted later,” he said, though I wasn’t sure why he was telling me this. Knowing he had killed people…I understood it was his condition, but it can be difficult to see your hero as…flawed.

“Not long after my awakening, she called me to her; she promised if I behaved she would tell me what had happened to my sisters. Where they had been buried.” He shook his head, clutching my hand between both of his. I hadn’t realized how painful it was for him when I had asked before. Never in my dreams did I think it could be this horrible.

“Years passed in what seemed like days, and each time I would request that one bit of information I wanted, she refused me. She insisted I had failed to be attentive enough. I had yet to accomplish this for her, or that. Somehow, I had managed to displease her. And yet I had done everything she asked of me and more. I abandoned my humanity and buried my feelings of remorse after each hunt; I gave her no reason to despise me. Every time she denied me, though, I grew to loathe her more.”

Drei stopped talking and studied our hands, as though that image gave him strength. As though it reminded him I wasn’t her, and I wasn’t here to hurt him.

“You don’t have to tell me everything now,” I told him. His amethyst eyes held mine, a look of disbelief obvious, as though I was missing something. And I probably was. But how could he expect me to catch all the little things he wasn’t saying when I was worried about what telling me this was doing to him?

“You do not understand what is happening yet,” he whispered, glancing away again. After another moment of silence—in which I couldn’t help but wonder why he felt it had to be done now when we had eternity—he began again. “I overheard her speaking, one day, of how she would never tell me where they were. She treasured my company too much. At dusk, before the rest awoke for a night of ravaging, I killed all of them. Decapitating each one in their sleep, and setting the place ablaze.

“I wandered then, unable to die and unable to live; I avoided feeding until I absolutely had to, and could usually be found drunk and unmotivated, occasionally brawling with drunken humans. It seemed the worst existence to be stuck in…until someone came along and gave me a bit of hope.” A smile cracked his lips. “Gloria found me brawling with a human. She told me to stop searching and then walked away.”

“You followed her,” I said, sitting up. I wasn’t sure how long I could stay sitting up, considering I felt light-headed and ill after doing so. Drei perched on the edge of the mattress beside me, taking my hand in his again.

“Of course. Gloria is how I learned of elementals, clairvoyant vampires, and about the emptiness filling me. She told me not to give up on love because it had not given up on me. But for the meantime, I had to stop seeking it, else it would continue to elude me. It was not until speaking with her, I even realized love was for what I had been searching. The moment she said it, though, I knew it was true.

“After my conversation with her, I recalled the legend of the Lady of the Moon. She had always fascinated me, and I had studied her extensively throughout my living days. So I vowed to her, if she would bring me love someday, I would strive to deserve it.”

“Did you?” I asked, watching him carefully. He seemed so fragile as he spoke, I was terrified he would break and leave me alone in this place. As disappointed as I was that he was here to begin with, having him with me was better than being alone.

“I am not there yet,” he chided gently, squeezing my hand again, a smile barely visible on his lips. “Over the next few hundred years, between trying to locate my sisters while avoiding remembering my actions, bettering myself emotionally, and, in the past few decades, searching for and saving elementals, I began to find a balance in my life. The anger was still there, the first response to anything unpleasant, but it was no longer ruling alongside grief. Stoicism was my aim, and when I came across Valetta, she seemed at first to help that goal be attainable.

“For the longest time, I had thought she was the one I was to love. That was when I built my garden,” he said, holding my gaze again. “It was to help soothe unpleasantness and, in part, be a gift. Gloria stopped my thoughtlessness. She was not the one, nor had she ever been. She provided love, but I had none in return for her as much I longed to—which was a truth I could not deny. I valued Valetta, but I felt obligated to behave in ways to communicate love for her. Valetta did not handle the truth well. For many years, she was understandably upset;” he hung his head and furrowed his brow. “I did not mean to harm her emotions, but I could not allow us both to live untruthfully, and she did eventually forgive me, though, as you might know, her protectiveness is still fierce.”

“I definitely know,” I said, grinning sheepishly as I remembered how cold she had once been toward me. It seemed like forever since I had seen her, longer so since she had despised me.

“When Gloria first told me of you,” he continued, glancing at me again, “I had the most remarkable urge to bring you myself. We had never harbored an air elemental before, and I had thought that was why I was so eager. I had not meant to contact you before you had an inkling of the changes you would undergo, but seeing you struggle those nights to sleep, I could not help myself. You reminded me of my sisters in your restlessness. It was not until later I discovered how unlike them you were—are at times. How troubled and unhappy you were, yet stuck where you had no wish to be, even if you would not admit as much to yourself.

“Before I had reached this realization, your similarity to my sisters was unbearable. I had not meant to…but I found myself biting you.”

“So that was you.”

“You knew all the while,” he said, as though he might have raised an eyebrow at me had the situation been different. “I did not dare trust myself after that. If I lost myself in thinking of my sisters, I was sure to turn you, and that would be unacceptable. I knew that. Yet I could not help but return occasionally and watch your growth. You were never to know I was there, but I could not help but let myself be known when those men proved their intentions were dishonorable. Particularly towards you.”

I brushed a lock of hair from his pale face. “Thank you for that. You didn’t have to, but you saved me anyway.”

“But I did,” he said, shock lacing his voice. “I have already said you reminded me of my sisters, but I had come to realize you were different from them in so many ways. As you healed, I volunteered my stories, hoping they would help you. And as I did, I grew more protective of you, as I had been of my sisters, but…in a way that made little sense to me. It remained that way until it was far too late for me to alter the situation.”

“What do you mean?” I recalled his protectiveness, thinking of it then as unnecessary. Confusion kept clouding my thoughts and I didn’t see how this explained anything.

“I was—am in love with you. With the Council, the emotion is as punishable as the deed,” he said solemnly.

“Drei,” I said, smiling and trying to cheer him up. “We don’t have to worry about them anymore.”

Drei turned from me and his whole body seemed to sag under a new weight. “Abriel, we do.”

Vampiric: Chapter Twelve, Part 1

Chapter Twelve: The Missing Pieces of the Puzzle

Wherever I had ended up was dark. In all my imaginings of death, I had never thought it would be dark. It had always been bright—on the brink of blinding—with a gentle melody leading me along to a place full of people who knew me, who had been waiting for me. To be in darkness made my failure seem far more stark.

“Before I explain,” Drei’s voice said from the darkness, “I need to tell you the story you’ve been requesting to hear.”

Hearing him so close wasn’t a comfort. I was terrified by the thoughts of what could have happened to him, especially after I had wanted him to stay safe. Being here—if it was where I thought I was—was not by any means safe.

“Where are you?” I asked, my voice harsh, my throat dry and constricted. Another oddity; I didn’t think death meant you still suffered bodily needs like thirst.

A lamp came on, temporarily blinding me. Once my eyes adjusted from the shock, I saw Drei sat on the edge of a nearby chair, hunched forward and seeming unable to look at me.

“Right here,” he whispered, his eyes dark and sorrowful.

The light partially illuminated the room around us. The entire space was dark, heavy curtains drawn over what appeared to be the only window. I had been tucked under sheets and thick woolen blankets on a bed. Thus far, the only thing consistent with my imaginings of death was that I didn’t feel like myself; something was very odd and not quite right with me.

 “Everything will make sense when I finish,” Drei said; I could have sworn I could feel his insecurity. That couldn’t be, though, because I remembered losing touch with the air in the hospital. I decided to trust Drei would make sense of this all.

“Okay,” I said, watching him carefully.

“Nearly 400 years ago, before I was turned, I met someone,” he said softly, the shame rising from the memory engulfing him. “At the time, I was finishing my studies at university. A few of my peers went to celebrate the end of exams, though most of us had another the following day. It was at the pub where she noticed and seduced me. There was no hiding what she was doing; she openly admitted what she wanted. When I resisted, insisting I could not partake that night, nor anytime soon as I was returning home after the commencement exercises, she told me I would be unable to resist her. Unfortunately, that was also the truth.

“She released me from her spell long enough to pass my final exam and receive my diploma. I had planned to make my escape after the ceremony and return home, but she awaited my exit and seduced me anew. I spent the next several weeks with her, not realizing how much time had elapsed until a letter arrived from home, requesting my immediate return. She was livid, insisting I would be unable to leave.” He rubbed his temples as though he could still hear her protests. “I knew I had to go. I missed my sisters, and she had underestimated the strength of my love for them. So one day, as she rested, I left, hoping that was the last I would see of that place.”

“What happened?” I asked, my voice still scratchy but slowly returning to normal.

Running an unsteady hand through his hair, he said, “A month later, she showed up in my bed chambers. There was no way she could have been there, let alone have known that is where I was. She scolded me for leaving her, insisting it had been a poor choice. That I wanted to please her, keep her contented, or she would drain me. It was my first indication as to her true nature. She presented me an option, then: I could devote myself to her and leave my family straight away, or I could deny her. Though she guaranteed I would not like the consequences of denying her, I…I could not imagine disappearing from my sisters’ lives. They needed me…they were still young and impressionable…you understand.” His voice was pleading, as if trying to convince me they didn’t deserve their fate, whatever it had been. “And I believed myself intelligent and resourceful enough to elude whatever consequences she promised.”

“Drei,” I whispered, not wanting him to continue. His hands and voice shook from the pain of the memory; I reached a hand out to him, though he was just out of reach. For as long as I had wanted to know, I didn’t want him plagued by remembering after he had worked so hard to forget. I hated seeing him pained, especially when there was little I could do about it.

“No, you must know to understand,” he asserted, moving his seat closer and taking my hand. I could still feel the pain and shame clouding the air around him, but the contact seemed to renew his resolve and stop his trembling.

“For weeks she showed up, issuing the same offer, and each time I remained insistent on staying. One evening, I had been taking a stroll, considering my future and whatnot when she appeared. I thought she was there for the same reason she had been the nights previously, so I ignored her. Until she stopped me. She teased me a while, asking for another chance to fix things between us. When I explained I would have to refuse her, she stalled with small talk. After an appropriate interval of time, she let me go with no proposal, no threats or consequences. I was sure I had finally convinced her she did not need me. How naïve I was,” Drei lamented, cradling his head in his free hand, gripping tighter to mine.

Elemental: Chapter Eight, Part 1

Chapter Eight: Waiting for Peace

The garden was our date locale most nights. During the day, we’d sit together talking about random things or join in the games. The children accepted Nick because I did, but they were wary of him, as if his skin or breath were poisonous. I had asked why, one day, and they all pretended to know nothing about it.

Some nights we sat and shared the past, his arms curled around me to protect from the cool weather. Other nights, our chatter was dispersed between kisses and laughter over funny faces and even more amusing jokes. I didn’t know what you could call what we had. For me, I wasn’t sure if I would call it love; but it was such an extreme affection, I knew he wasn’t just a friend I regularly kissed. Nick never said what it was for him; the look in his eyes before he kissed me, the crooked curve of his lips when we were together during the day, or the way he’d hold my hand said it all.

I warred with myself whether it was fair to Nick that I didn’t know how I felt about him. When I was with him, none of it seemed to matter. Perhaps it was my power or some other force I wasn’t aware of that caused me to feel as though he was part of me, and I was part of him. That every time our lips touched or his hand slipped into mine, we were melding together.

The month passed as such—a not-so-secret relationship and a series of private meetings. When Drei happened to be around while we were playing games, I couldn’t help but notice he always glared at Nick. I had a sinking feeling that the thought of us together was more dangerous than bounty hunters. At least in the case of Drei. Perhaps that had some impact on my uncertainty.

One night, I sat in Nick’s embrace, my arms crossed loosely and resting lightly on his. My head lay on his shoulder, my eyes closed as he spoke to me. Not because I was tired, but just because his voice had a different quality that way.

“One day, Kit was running around with Kate’s doll, her favorite one,” he started, his voice excited as he launched into the tale. “Kit insisted it was hers and she should be able to play with it and the white jeep Mom had bought her for Christmas. Of course, Kate was crying when she came to me; our parents were at some company party my dad had to attend. When I yelled for Kit to bring the doll with her, she showed up sniveling and saying she was sorry. They were in preschool and I guess they hadn’t learned about sharing yet. She kept muttering apologies; Kate only plugged her ears and started yelling that she’d never forgive her again.”

“Oh dear. What did you do?” I had a feeling I knew what he would say already. It was really similar to another story I’d heard before.

“We sat down together, Kit still crying a little because she had been found out, Kate still stubbornly pouting, the picturesque victim. I asked Kate why she wouldn’t accept the apology, and she insisted that it wasn’t sincere. So Kit started crying full out again until I stopped her and told her Kate didn’t mean it. Kate complained I was lying, but I asked if she loved Kit, and she stopped. Then she apologized for being stubborn and mean. Kit hugged Kate, telling her she was sorry.

“That night when my parents returned, they found I’d been cornered into playing dolls with them to keep the peace—which unfortunately also involved playing dress up,” he finished, a blush in his voice as I laughed. “It never happened again. Dressing up, that is.”

“It’s still funny,” I insisted, turning to look at him, less mystified by his ending.

He smiled down at me, that special curve to his lips; “Have I told you you’re beautiful?”

“Never.” I smiled and waited for what came next.

“Well you are,” he replied, leaning in to kiss me.

“What are you doing here?” a vicious voice snarled from a few feet away.

Elemental: Chapter Six, Part 4

 Nick’s head fell back into the comfort of my pillows. I recommenced rubbing his back and whispering it was all right. That if he talked to me about it, he’d feel better afterwards. I felt Drei watching me with skepticism. He didn’t think I could make Nick feel better about what had happened, and I wasn’t sure myself. But I needed to try, and that was all I paid attention to. I was needed for something other than being a babysitter. That was more important than Drei could know. So I had to try.

“They came late…after everyone was asleep. I was out late, past curfew, with a few friends. They had been drinking and smoking all sorts of stuff…I thought they were hallucinating when they dropped me off, insisting the sun was eating my house. Course they didn’t know it wasn’t the sun. I shooed them off and called 911. I ran inside, trying to find someone, anyone. But Mom and Dad, their door was locked, like it usually was when they had been arguing. Kit and Kate weren’t breathing when I found them…I didn’t know what to do.”

As he spoke, I drew the memory from him in a way not unlike how I had obtained the memory of my mom and dad—I wanted to see what he saw, to pick up what he left out. It swelled inside me, the sensation of smoke filling my lungs. Flashes of blinding red heat mingled with glances of sickly figures and engulfed, endless hallways turning in a maze of utter hopelessness. I wasn’t sure what to do with it, now that it was as much a part of me as it was of him, but I knew I couldn’t hold onto it. It was already overwhelming me with confusion and grief.

“I didn’t even wait around for the fire trucks; I just ran. As fast and as far as I could. Pretty soon I didn’t want to stop anywhere, wasn’t sure if I could. So I just kept going.”

Then the solution came to me. I released the memory, allowing it to float away from us—to find someone willing to listen or just dissipate into the atmosphere, I wasn’t sure which—and to leave us in peace. Though his eyes were blind to it, the swirls of black and red spiraled from us, rising through the ceiling like a beautiful version of the catastrophe it was. From there, I could feel a wind lift it away, dispersing it across the sky.

His eyes, glazed when he had remembered the events leading up to this moment, shone as they turned on me, a serene smile on the edge of his lips. One of my hands still rested on his forearm. “Then you found me; you saved me from killing myself. Thank you.”

Nick fell back asleep after that for the rest of the day. Drei left to brief a few of the other vampires, promising to return when Nick woke again. I was relieved of my sitter duties in order to nurse Nick and prepare him for the storm to come. It would be rough and I could tell Drei wanted him gone.

Elemental: Chapter Four, Part 3

That morning I sat watching the sunrise. I suspected Drei failed to sleep as well, despite his curled appearance. He seemed to know more than I gave him credit for, and it made me question if he ever revered sunrises as he did the moon. In all his years, did he ever find hope in the coming of the new day? Or had he always been content with the loneliness of night?

Over the next week, Drei inquired of my past, though part of me was convinced he already knew much of it. In the midst of this storytelling, I came to realize all of my worthwhile, fun, exciting, revealing stories featured my father spending time with me. Not family time. Just one on one time. Shopping and storytelling, other things along those lines, plus the basics to life: bike riding, reading, writing, first camping trip. By the time I reached things like first dates, he was working more often away from home.

Granted, all of this was against my plan of forgetting everything I was leaving behind. Perhaps Drei thought the good memories would suppress the nightmarish ones.

He would even occasionally comment on his own life when I neared a livid memory or a forgotten woe. His life amazed me. Well, life is too general a term since it was more glimpses and pieces. He spoke most often of his younger twin sisters and protecting them. Each time I questioned what had happened to them, he burrowed away from me, leaving me to wonder what could have gone so terribly wrong.

“We will be there tomorrow around sunrise,” Drei informed me toward the start of our fourth week of travel.

Camp for the night had already been settled and I was on the verge of sleep. The knowledge of being able to sleep on something more comfortable than grass lifted my spirits. We hadn’t seen a small town for several days and the lack of people was starting to take its toll as well. Mostly, I was just weary of traveling.

“Tell me a story, Drei,” I requested, yawning, “about you and your sisters.”

Drei faced me from where he lay, a bemused smile playing across his lips. “You enjoy my stories as much as I enjoy yours.” I laid half-awake, waiting for his words to lull me to sleep.

There was a smile in his voice as he started; “One night, Avery and Ashlyn were running through the halls. They did it often enough, since there were no adults awake to stop them.” He paused momentarily, as if reassuring his grasp on that particular memory. “But it was different. I had not noticed Ashlyn’s hoarse cries until their third passing. It was upsetting; their jaunts were usually filled with laughter and private jokes. To hear her hoarse and pleading, and Avery not at all, was startling for me; so I awaited their next passing outside my room.

“Both stopped in their tracks at the sight of me, as though I were a ghost or some other menacing figure of the night. Ashlyn appeared to hold back tears to keep up a steady chase, but now she burst, wave after wave washing from her eyes. Avery clung protectively to a leather bound volume before releasing it and bursting as well.”

Solemnity filled his voice as he spoke. Whatever had happened to them made this memory hard for him to share; I wondered why he would do so if it hurt him.

“I walked to my sisters, kneeling between them and questioning what had transpired. Avery, it became clear, had taken Ashlyn’s favorite volume of illustrated fairy tales. At my suggestion, we stole away to my room, the book in my custody. Avery and Ashlyn sat on either side of me, our backs to the wall; Avery apologized as her sniffling subsided, but Ashlyn did not want to forgive her; she said just as much. She looked to cry again until Ashlyn climbed over me and fiercely hugged her.

“‘I love you,’ she told Avery.

“I surprised her when I said, ‘Then you forgive her.’ Her natural question was ‘why’, to which my reply was, ‘Because when you love someone, you always forgive them.’ That is what I told them that night, and I still believe it.”

Drei stopped a moment. Despite my weariness, I could feel him debating whether to continue or let that be the end. Whatever he decided would be fine with me. I could already feel myself slipping away.

“After their reconciliation and a few lighthearted laughs at the expense of everyone present,” he continued, his tone brightening, “I read the last story of the volume to my sisters. They were slumped sleepily against me about halfway through. Before they slipped completely off to sleep, Avery said, ‘Thank you,’ and Ashlyn added, ‘We love you, Drei.’”

Hearing the official end of the story, I slipped deeper toward sleep. Just before entering complete unconsciousness, however, I thought I heard Drei whisper, “I will always forgive you, Abriel.” And I couldn’t help but wonder if he didn’t mean something more than that. That perhaps he meant he loved me.