Eternal: Chapter Three, Part 6

“All enter,” the voice called into the hallway. Drei, who had held me tightly and kissed my forehead when I’d exited the room, now walked to stand on the other side of Mitchell again as we filed into the room to hear Tudor deliver the verdict.

“Abriel Jones, it has been unanimously decided your alternative suggestion will be…” He carefully regarded the paper in his hands for an extended pause. I knew all of them were watching me—Valetta, Mitchell and Drei confusedly, the Council unfeelingly—waiting read a response on my face. “…accepted.”

I gasped, shocked, relieved and excited. It had worked. This was a good omen, I hoped. If not, at least I spent my luck on someone important.

“Under one condition,” he continued, sucking away my joy. “It has been voted that you will only be given two years, with a possible extension of three months upon request and with reasonable explanation. Until then, all penalties and charges are suspended.”

“Thank you,” I said, my mind racing to figure out what kind of timeline I would need if I only had two years for sure. I was grateful still, but this meant we needed to hit the ground running; there was no room for delays or mistakes.

“Adjourned,” the presiding vampire announced. “You shall all be returned to wheresoever you desire.”

With that, we were escorted from the room and back through the mansion to the car. None of the Council had moved and I wondered if they ever did. It was a strange thought, but I was hungry, exhausted, and emotionally spent; additionally, I had to figure out how to make—what the Council would consider to be—significant progress in two years. Mentally entertaining the thought of those eight never leaving that room was the only thing keeping me sane, and sanity was a good thing at this point. With two years, every moment counted. At the end of those two years, I probably wouldn’t qualify for ingénue status given my bargaining.

I leaned against Drei on the car ride home and he stroked my hair. It was comforting, the temporary relief and happiness falling away from all of them combined with his loving touch.

“Can you roll your window down?” I asked sleepily. I was starved, and any bit of fresh air helped. Drei and Valetta both obliged. As we drove through the city, the night life in full swing, it wasn’t long before I felt full, my contentedness adding to my exhaustion.

“You will explain this alternative option, yes?” Drei asked softly.

“Of course,” I replied, trying not to fall asleep on them just yet. “I have two years to make significant progress on my movement.”

Mitchell stared incredulously at me; Valetta gaped. Drei’s hand stopped running through my hair and I glanced up at him. I wished he hadn’t stopped.

“Two years for that?” Valetta asked.

“I had asked for three,” I said, speaking more to Drei than to the others. His eyes were unsure and unfocused. He was as worried as I was about how much the Council’s decision might change in two years if it didn’t happen. “But we can do it.”

“We shall stay to assist in any way possible,” Mitchell said.

“Thank you,” I responded, wishing I could sleep for now. I’d be able to think better with some rest.

“What do we do first?” Drei asked, squeezing my hand as though to reassure himself as the shock lessened.

“First we sleep,” I insisted, closing my eyes—I caught Drei’s thought about that being a first. Any more thinking and it felt like my brain would implode, but he could probably guess that much. “Then we start…and hope two years is enough.”

Vampiric: Chapter Nine, Part 3

The following morning, she called Ian to let him know he was in charge while racing through traffic to our shopping destination. It had been nicknamed Designer Boulevard for the numerous brand name—expensive, high quality brand name, I might add— clothes and accessories available. Everything from Louis Vuitton to Versace, the up and coming Lollipops accessory brand to Dolce and Gabbana, could be found on the boulevard. I had been to several locations of similar grandeur when I was younger and throughout high school, but had never been to this particular shopping locale.

Unexpectedly, I was actually giddy about it. I guess I hadn’t changed as much as I had thought, and perhaps all I needed was a break from it all before I could remember what I loved most about shopping was mostly trying on clothes that made me feel beautiful, powerful, somehow invincible. I loved the feel of the different fabrics and the look of a well cut dress or pair of pants. Not to mention the shoes, oh my word, the shoes. Shoes to compliment party dresses and shoes in which to run the world; shoes that make you want to dance right there in the store.  So maybe there were many things I missed about shopping.

Later that afternoon, weighted down with what she insisted was only half of my new wardrobe—some of the bags already crammed into her car—we sat down to lunch at a cozy café, comfortably warm inside considering the growing chill outside.

“So, before you ask, this is also most of your Christmas gift,” she said, opening the menu to peruse her options.

I ordered a mixed fruit tea and citrus salad. I was usually appalled by girls who only ate salads, but when I was shopping, it was the only thing I wanted to eat. Weird, yes, but that was me—I just hadn’t seen this side in so long I was surprised she still existed. Caroline ordered a Monte Cristo sandwich with fries and a cherry cola.

“How can you even afford it?”

“Oh, my parents,” she said simply. “They insist if I don’t want to live their lifestyle, I should at least live mine in a decent apartment and designer clothes. I think they want me to spend my inheritance before they’re gone so I regret not spending more time with them. What about you? Ian told me you weren’t sure about going home.”

I shrugged; “It’s complicated.”

“Isn’t everything?” She rested her chin on her interlaced fingers.

“Maybe I’ll explain some other time, or you have my permission to ask Ian about it.”

The waiter delivered our drinks and she took a long draw from the straw. “I already did. I just wanted to know if you would tell me.”

It felt like I was being cornered; it wasn’t so bad I couldn’t tell her. I just didn’t want to ruin the day. But what choice did I have now? She already knew, but now she wanted to hear it from me. And I could understand that perfectly.

“The last time I saw my mother, I told her she didn’t deserve her daughter because she was being a freak about dealing with the changes in my behavior. Instead of asking me about it, she was going to lie and pretend she could bake a cake,” I said, finding the anger formerly surrounding the memory was replaced with indifference. “Turns out she’s not even my real mother. The last time I saw my dad was when he told me the story of my mom—my biological mom. About how they met and how I came into the picture. He also told me I was the only reason he could stand to miss her. That I looked a lot like her. Then I ran away, not even thinking about how they would feel about it. I haven’t seen them since.”

“Did you ever meet your birth mom?” she prodded, sitting back so our waiter, newly appeared, could set her food down.

I glanced up at him, not wanting to speak while he was around—he didn’t need to know about my issues—and noticed he wasn’t half bad so far as looks were concerned. He had a soft voice, but perhaps that was more because he didn’t want to disturb our conversation. His hair was a sandy blonde and styled similarly to how schoolboys were often portrayed in movies. He had sea blue eyes and sharp features. I couldn’t figure out why I was so drawn to him; I didn’t realize he had left and I was just staring into space until Caroline waved her hand in front of my eyes.

“What?” I asked, snapping back to reality.

“You were staring,” she said, sounding almost disinterested. “Do you like him or something?”

I shook my head, certain that wasn’t it. “There’s something funny about him. Something I can’t discern.”

“Elemental? That could be it.”

“Yeah…maybe.”

“But, about your birth mom, did you meet her?”

“In captivity,” I said. “She was my cell mate.”

Her eyes widened. “How was she?”

“Mentally…not all there.”

Wincing, she touched my forearm and sympathized, “I’m sorry, Abs.”

“Don’t be,” I said, not needing another reason for her coddle me. “For as long as she’s been there, she could have been worse.”

A strained silence fell between us for a while before Caroline broke it by querying, “Where do you want to go next?”

Shrugging, I said, “I have no idea.”

“Accessories it is, then.”

When we finished our lunch, we dropped off our bags in her car—fast becoming full—and headed to the many accessory shops on the boulevard. By the end of the day, I literally had a new wardrobe. I kept some of my older clothes—those I loved to death—but most of them Caroline dragged off to donate along with a good deal of her own. Going through my additions, I realized how much I missed shopping and having new clothes. It had gone from being a solid constant in my life to not existing in it at all. It was something that definitely helped my mood. Perhaps this finding myself wasn’t as hard as I was making it.

Vampiric: Chapter Nine, Part 2

Mid-December, Caroline was in the throes of planning again, as were a good many of us. The one before Christmas would be crucial as it would be the last of the year and would help determine how many would await her coming suggestions for action in the new year. It was a lot to have to worry about. Her speech had to uphold her stance on why the revolution was necessary as well as insinuate the coming call to action while making it seem like the viewer’s idea.

One day, while I was working on arranging our information and ideas into an outline for her use in writing her speech, she came into the office and stood in the door. She stood with her hands on her hips and her feet planted slightly apart from each other. “Out.”

I looked up from my laptop; unsure what she meant, I asked, “What?”

“Get out of my office.”

“…Fine,” I said, standing and slowly starting to collect my papers and charger. “I’ll work downstairs.”

“No, you won’t,” Caroline said, her face set in her usual scowl.

I set everything back on her desk, ready to give up her guessing game. If I was fired, I didn’t really see a reason behind it or why she didn’t just come out and say it. It was stupid and childish and I could easily delete the outline. Then she’d have nothing to go off of and be forced to read and sort through her own research. “Then what? Am I fired, then? Is that it?”

She didn’t say anything and that made it worse. Her scowl cracked into a smile just as I was ready to leave and toss her office in a whirlwind.

“There’s no need to work in my office when you have your own,” she said, seeming almost unable to hide her humor.

“Wait, what?” I asked; I shook my head, certain I had misheard. “What do you mean?”

Caroline grabbed my hand and pulled me from behind the desk, out the office, and to a room a few doors down the hall. “I mean you have your own office now.” She handed me a key after opening the door. Inside were a couple of file cabinets, a beautiful oak desk and chair set, and a comfy crimson armchair with matching ottoman.

“Thank you doesn’t seem to cover it,” I said, slowly exploring the space and dragging my hand across the desktop.

“It’s half of your present.” She leaned against the door frame. “Tomorrow we’re skipping work for the second half.”

“There’s so much left to do, though,” I reminded her, certain our current time restraints couldn’t be stretched any further. Not without us pulling an all-nighter—and I doubted she’d agree to that. She was still skeptical about my regular sleeping habits, so forget condoning me to forgo sleep.

“I’m your boss.” Caroline stood upright again, a smile playing across her lips. “If you like your job, you won’t argue.”

Actually needing my job—as it was the only steady, non-human thing in my life—instead of arguing, I asked, “What’s this for?”

She shrugged. “I thought you deserved something for making it to three months.”

“Thank you,” I said for lack of any better way to express the gratitude swelling in my chest. “You and Ian were a big part of those three months.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said, shrugging and grinning as though to say I didn’t need to remind her but she would take any and all praise anyway. “Oh, and you’re coming with me for Christmas. Ian, too. No way both of you are going to mope around instead of going somewhere.”

“You told me your plan, already.”

She grinned at me over her shoulder adding, “I was only reminding you, in case you thought you’d argue that as well.” And with that, she left, leaving me to collect my things from her office and settle into mine. That, and finish up the outline for her speech so she could work on fleshing it out for the rest of the day.