Tarot

Cradle the deck in your hands,

Gently like a newborn child,

And press cool finished paper to your

            Lips

            Forehead

            Heart

Wherever you feel the energy pulse inside you.

Let the cards be drawn to you,

Your energy soaking them in light,

Filling them with your essence as you

            Breathe

            Focus

            Pray

And prepare them to connect you with yourself.

There is a reason to call upon the deck,

Whether for guidance or curiosity,

And each time connects your soul to the

            Goddess

            God

            Cosmos

So comfort and understanding accompany the news.

What news is to be received depends on you

And the enlightenment you seek

As you toss around in your mind a single

            Thought

            Question

            Concern

To be given up in sacrifice for blunt advice.

And yet the answers given can only be deciphered

From their cryptic, generalized state

By the reader who is willing to

            Accept

            Interpret

            Understand

The clarity provided by the cards.

For the reader knows answers already lie waiting inside.

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 Nine, Part 5

Smoothing the hair out of his face, I realized how much he had grown up from two years ago. His eyes and facial structure hadn’t changed at all, but the set of his jaw seemed more serious than playful. His skin was dark as if he had spent a lot of time outside, or maybe it was dark in comparison to my paling skin. He was already starting to show crow’s feet though, and laugh lines from smiling so much. It was almost like he was aging faster than most people did, or perhaps that was just in comparison to me.

“You’re the only one who hasn’t told me I’ve changed,” I said softly, sitting back. My fingers were still running through his damp hair—it was really soft and I found the repetition of movement soothing.

“I didn’t know if you’d want to hear it,” he admitted, closing his eyes. “That feels really good, by the way.”

Smirking, I asked, “So do I look different?”

One of his jade gems flashed up at me before he answered, “You’re paler, you seem more serious, and you’re cool to the touch, even when other people are hot and sweaty.”

Nodding, I thanked him. No one else had said how I was different, just that I was, and hearing how actually made me feel less worried. For a while I was wondering if I had a huge sign painted on my forehead saying “different” and I was the only one who didn’t know.

“You and Drei are closer,” he said, starting to fully relax, one of his hands dangling off the side of the couch now. At least one of us could relax. “Does that have anything to do with you changing?” When I didn’t say anything, he asked, “Aren’t you two worried about being found out?”

After a moment I knew I had to say something, even if it meant he would know both answers. “Things are different now.”

His eyes flew open and I felt his muscles tense. “What do you mean?”

“Just that,” I said, holding his eyes steadily. “Things are different now.”

He sat and spun to face me. “A—”

“Leirba,” I interrupted before he could screw everything up. To most of the public, Abriel had died more than a year ago, mysteriously disappearing from the hospital where they attempted a surgery to save her life after she had been admitted for a gunshot wound. Not to mention Abriel was supposed to have died before that, at the docks, after having successfully escaped one of the secret government “research labs” that conveniently doubled as an elemental prison. Leirba was safe from both death and the government—for a short while anyway.

Nick bit his bottom lip, holding back his frustration; he wanted to be straightforward about this and using an alternate name felt like a game. He was too easy to read when he was upset.

Before he could say anything else, I sighed and suggested, “We should go back to the room if we’re going to have this discussion.”

“Why? I thought things were different now?” he snipped childishly, his eyes watery. He even looked younger as his lips pouted—unintentionally.

“Because if this is going where I think it is,” I replied, grabbing my notebook and pulling him behind me, “then it still has to stay a secret.”

“Oh, so it’s a secret that he—”

Whipping my head around, I glared at him. He might have been taller than me, but I was more powerful and he knew that; I’d pushed him across a room once when he wasn’t listening to me. Nick shushed immediately and didn’t say a word until the door was closed behind us.

“He bit you.” It wasn’t a question.

“There were circumstances,” I said, staring out the window at the wintry sky. Halloween wasn’t too far off but it may as well have been the middle of February.

“What circumstances excuse him turning you into a…”

“I was dying,” I murmured under him. It took him a moment to realize I had said anything, thus his voice trailing off. He moved to stand before me at the window, one hand on my shoulder.

“What?” He forced himself to be calmer now so he would hear me.

“I was dying,” I repeated, my eyes following a few late birds through the sky. “The doctors had done what they could…so Drei did what he could.”

“You asked for this?” Nick asked, his voice soft with a note of betrayal.

“No;” his eyes were still watery but more from hurt than anything else. And it wasn’t hurt for himself. “I thought I was dead.”

“That’s why you’re going—”

“By Leirba, and it’s very important we stick to it.” I held his gaze a second longer before concentrating outside again. “It makes things complicated, but time is time.”

“You have more than time,” he said as though I hadn’t thought about it. “You have eternity.”

“So now you know.” When he didn’t move, as if waiting for me to say something else, I told him, “You handled it better than Mitchell and Valetta.”

Another silence enveloped us and I hated it. I wasn’t sure why, but more and more lately, I felt the compulsion to fill any silence in conversations. When I was alone, it was perfectly fine; but when I was with someone else, the silence only aggravated me and I had no explanation for it.

“Ready for tomorrow?” I wondered if he really knew that’s what I had switched to thinking about or if he was just trying to change the subject.

“No,” I confessed, still not looking at him. Some part of me felt like looking at him would reveal something he wasn’t saying. And if that was true, I was certain it wouldn’t be something helpful to my nerves or situation.

Pulling me into his strong arms as he had done before when I was scared or crying or both, I started feeling better. It wasn’t as effective as Drei saying a few words and touching my cheek or hand, but it still worked.

“If you start to get nervous, just remember I’ll be standing out in the audience,” he whispered into my hair. “I’m here for you.”

Wrapping my arms around him, too, I let him comfort me, allowing his confidence to sink into and fill me. Tomorrow would be great. I just had to breathe, stay calm and optimistic, and remember most of the people who would be there were already partially on my side. And Nick would be there if I started to panic.

How did I end up so lucky?

Eternal: Chapter Eight, Part 6

That’s where I stayed. It felt like an eternity that I lay there, my hand slowly bleeding—not fast enough to make a mess, just a slow, almost gelatinous, ooze—the carpet absorbing my tears, and me, suffocating, despite not even having to breathe. And the pain; the wrenching, burning pain clawing at my insides.

“Abriel, we will be late if you do not—,” Drei called as he walked through the door, stopping as he no doubt saw the mess I had created. He had run an errand and promised to be back in time for us to make it to the party.

He sat me upright, propping me against himself and holding me in his strong arms. I still couldn’t stop myself, even with him here. Nothing he said made any sense for a while, it was too soft and I was focused too much on what was happening inside me. When I wasn’t crying so hard, he lifted me and laid me in bed.

“I will be right back,” he promised, wiping the wet hair back from my forehead.

Drei spoke to someone in the other room, probably on the phone to tell them we weren’t coming. Caroline would yell at me for it later and Ian would probably tell her to shove it. Or someone else might. I tried imagining how it would pan out, but the distraction was useless; I rolled over, sobbing and crying again. I was coughing so hard my chest ached.

He was back again, propping me against his chest, rubbing my back until the coughing stopped. Then he cleaned and wrapped my cut hand. At least that’s when I suspected he did it; I didn’t actually know for sure. When he was done with that, he wrapped me in his arms and rocked me back and forth. I wasn’t sure how it was possible there were still tears left in me, but there were more, even if they only came quietly now.

Drei held me at least until I fell asleep. I was still in his arms when I awoke. His eyes were closed and his head bowed over me. I felt exhausted—emotionally and physically. Closing my eyes again, I only wanted to sleep, or try to anyway.

“We should talk first,” Drei said softly. It was strange hearing his voice in the silence, more so because he sounded worn and weary, almost fragile. “What happened?”

I tried to bury my face in his chest, but he turned and lifted my chin with a hooked finger.

“Something is wrong.” Had I not been so exhausted, I wondered if I would have thought that was the stupidest statement ever. Of course, something was wrong. The last time I cried anywhere near that much was when he kicked me out years ago, and, even then, it hadn’t hurt quite this much.

Shaking my head, I attempted pulling away from him. I loved him, but he did this to me. And yet I didn’t want him to feel guilty about it. If I told him, that’s what would happen, but he might be able to help me work through it so I felt better; if I didn’t tell him—I didn’t really want to think about that. None of what was going through my head was making any sense.

Drei wouldn’t let go of me; he wasn’t hurting me, but he wasn’t going to let me escape and avoid this.

“I know you need rest,” he murmured as he lowered his face until his forehead nearly touched mine. “But we need to talk about this, Abriel. What happened?” he repeated, as if I had forgetten the question. I was only trying to avoid answering it after all. “Tell me.”

“No.” Part of me still wanted to pull away from him, but part of me wanted to fall asleep in his arms again. Either way, I knew I didn’t want to answer that question, especially not now. “You don’t want to know.” I buried my head in my hands.

“If you are hurting, Abriel, I want to know.”

“Why? It’ll only hurt you.”

“That means nothing to me. Your health, your wellness means everything to me.”

Glancing up at him, I found his face already contorted in pain, all because I wouldn’t talk to him. That was what I’d been hoping to avoid. “It sucks,” I said lamely, unable to meet his gaze. “I don’t have a reflection.”

His fingers ran through my hair and massaged my scalp, though his unease and worry snaked around me. “I should have told you.”

“It’s why you took down all the mirrors.” I didn’t need him to confirm it because I already knew it was why. He wanted to protect me from that truth, and as I had become considerably with other things—like sating my hunger and the movement—I hadn’t cared. “That’s mostly why.”

“Such a trivial thing?”

“No, Drei. It wasn’t trivial.” He didn’t understand. By the time he went out into the world, he was numb from what he had done. He didn’t notice the world moving on around him, leaving him behind. “It was the last thing I could stand losing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Drei, I’ve been giving up and leaving behind so much. For my element, for my vampire…and it was just building on top of itself. One thing on top of another; something old would come up and add…and when I couldn’t even see what I looked like—couldn’t even prove I still existed—” My voice cracked as a new wave of tears pressed at my eyes. I had hoped my tear ducts were empty.

“I had no idea.”

“I didn’t want you to,” I admitted, sniffing, trying to hold back the tears.

“You do exist, Abriel,” he said, wrapping me tighter in his arms.

“How can I—”

“Because if you ever wonder, I will hold you. I will say anything you want. I will kiss you and do whatever you desire of me. I will stay by your side until you feel better,” he promised, his amethyst eyes pale and serious. “To me, you exist…and because you do, I am happier than I have ever been.”

Wrapping my hands around the back of his neck, I buried my face into his chest—breathing him in and failing to quell the tears now rolling down my cheeks—and this time he didn’t stop me. One of his arms was wrapped around my waist, his other hand lost in my hair.

Eternal: Chapter Eight, Part 5

It turns out, about a week.

Until the day the commercial aired, to be exact. I was told it was a wonderful success, and the party Caroline had thrown for everyone was grand fun. But I didn’t know because I wasn’t there.

While dressing for the party, I wanted to check my appearance in a mirror. I hadn’t thought about mirrors in a while. It seemed strange, that day, I hadn’t looked in a mirror for so long. But then, I hadn’t had a reason to do so. I hadn’t worn makeup since before my turning and I didn’t usually do much with my hair. But I was nervous, and I wanted to ensure I looked okay.

Nick had left an hour earlier because he had promised to help with set up for the party; I would have left with him but I was specifically told I wasn’t to arrive until the party started, and it would be even better if I was fashionably late. Remembering the vanity Drei had bought when we first moved here—that I hardly used—I went into Nick’s room. Sure enough, it was in the corner with a few cologne bottles, hair gel, and some other grooming things of his lined up in front of the mirror.

I could already see the dress in the mirror and knew it looked nice, but that wasn’t my concern. I wanted to know if it looked nice on me. So backing up, I looked again, and the dress was still there…but I wasn’t. I thought it was that I was too far away and my vision was going bad. But when I neared the mirror to just look at my face, it wasn’t there. My earrings were, but not my face.

Immediately falling into denial, I left the room, searching the kitchen for a pot, a bowl, a ladle, anything that was reflective. I pulled open the cabinets, grabbing everything that might have worked, and when I had gone through all of those, I went through the drawers, snatching up cutting knives and teaspoons, even forks. And in all of them, I wasn’t there. It was like I didn’t exist.

I swiped everything off the counter onto the floor, threw the mixing bowls in different directions—the sound of something smashing reached me though I didn’t care enough to know what; I slammed the drawers and cabinet doors, oblivious that they just swung back open with the force. My hands reached into the open cabinets, taking up plates and glasses. I didn’t care what happened to that damned kitchen with all of its reflective dishes and silverware that couldn’t find me; it didn’t matter if I broke a plate here or a glass there. It didn’t bother me I had cut my hand with a knife when I grabbed the wrong end, or that I was crying so hard everything was a blur. None of it mattered.

I didn’t matter.

I wasn’t alive, and that meant I didn’t have a reflection; I wasn’t able to prove to myself I still existed. For all I knew I really was a ghost. I had died back in that hospital room and was so in denial that everyone just told me I was somehow still walking upright and solid.

Stumbling from the kitchen, I couldn’t stop crying. I was crying so hard I felt sick and like I was suffocating. But I couldn’t stop; it wouldn’t stop hurting. I didn’t even know what was hurting. My knees went weak and I collapsed on the carpet.

Eternal: Chapter Eight, Part 1

Chapter Eight: Concerned Bystanders

A few weeks later, Valetta stopped by with a letter from the Council. It wasn’t necessarily bad news, but I had been hoping not to hear from them for a while longer. The letter requested frequent updates on our progress, with a lot more flourish and many more words.

“Very well, then, I’ll have everyone make an extra copy of what we’ve done so far. Did you want to keep it?” I asked, offering her the letter.

“You may.” She crossed her arms loosely. “You do not appear worried about this.”

“Because I’m not,” I said, going to find my binder. “I figured they would do this, and even if it hadn’t been updates, they would’ve had concerns after the first commercial aired. It’s why you and Mitchell are ambassadors.”

“We have no leverage with the Council, Abriel,” Valetta reminded me stiffly. “You are the only one we know who has any.”

“I didn’t say ambassadors to the Council, Valetta;” I filed the letter in one of the folders. “I’ll deal with them personally.”

“Then we are ambassadors to no one?”

I turned to face her, leaning against the counter. “I’m guessing that if there is a Council to govern vampires, there should be a similar institution for other…I don’t know what they—we, go by collectively…mystical beings, I guess.”

 “How do you know about the others?” she asked slowly, leveling her eyes at me.

“Did you really think I couldn’t guess?” When she shrugged, I walked around to the kitchen, taking inventory of everything Nick had been eating so I could restock for him. Drei and I ate occasionally, but it wasn’t really required for either of us. He needed blood and I needed to be outside. I could guess what Nick liked best by figuring out what was disappearing; to my knowledge, he hadn’t figured out I wasn’t eating.

“Once I actually started thinking about this—and it wasn’t that long ago, just about the time you and Mitchell showed up—I figured if vampires existed in hiding, reason suggested other groups did as well. And since I purposely chose the first few commercials to be more on the vague side to make people want to go to the website, I realized it might put the Council a little on edge, as well as the other groups.” I finished assessing the cupboards and moved to the fridge. “Thus, since you and Mitchell have been around a while and would actually know about the groups, I decided you two would be perfect to go around and calm them, assure them all it’s not about them. Voilà, ambassadors.” Finished with the shopping list, I turned to Valetta and asked, “So was I right? Or should I not have bothered?”

Taking a seat at the breakfast bar, she admitted, “I did not anticipate you arriving at these conclusions.” After a moment, she added, “Drei knows more about the other groups than Mitchell and I do. Why not him?”

I remembered I hadn’t yet spoken to Drei about that, about why he was with me and not in some other, more definite role; I needed to do that. “He’d be a great ambassador,” I conceded slowly, taking the seat next to her. “Part of the reason is because I think it’s usually a good thing for people to work in pairs, and you and Mitchell make a great pair. You balance each other and it’s…great.”

“But that is not why.”

Her dark eyes were scanning me, and I felt extremely conscious of everything she was doing, of everything I was doing. I looked away from her, my gaze boring holes into my intertwined hands before me. “I need him, still,” I whispered, knowing how conceited I must have sounded.

Nodding, she laid a pale hand on mine, and I realized for the first time how ghostly I must look to the others, how pale I had become. My skin tone nearly matched hers. “Of course, you do,” she said kindly, squeezing my hand a little. “This is still new…”

She was biting her tongue. Valetta and Mitchell had been working hard on not discussing what Drei had done; the few times they said anything on the topic, it always sounded like an accusation, as though they had been betrayed by him. It was topic they avoided for the sake of not arguing around or about me; while I was grateful, it also felt like I couldn’t raise questions with the only people who had answers.

Eternal: Chapter Six, Part 3

“Why did you dye your hair?”

Shrugging, she replied, “I just wanted a change. You see so many people with blonde and brunette and others who try to pull off the red-head and—I just wanted to physically appear different. Since I am anyway…even if they can’t know that.”

“Understandable.”

“When you were in high school, did you ever just want to stand out?”

“I wanted to; I wanted to be on the outside who I felt I was on the inside, even before I knew who I really was,” I said, trying not to think too much on what things had been like, or how quickly they had changed for the worse. “But things were safer where I was…or so I thought.”

“Do you ever wish you could have changed? That you had risked a little and been who you wanted to be?” she pressed, her blue eyes widening.

“Some days I wish I had—that I hadn’t been so scared of…what it would have meant to be my own person. Because having to be my own person on someone else’s terms was not easy. Not that it would have been easy on my terms, but it would have been my choice then.” My gaze settled on my clasped hands in my lap; her questions were bringing to the surface many emotional memories I had been avoiding. Although I could blow off her questions, I didn’t want to. If I could give her my truth, perhaps it would help her find her own. “Other days, I’m somewhat grateful for my cowardice, because I honestly could not imagine if things would have been better the other way. I can only see them ending up worse in my situation.”

Again, silence seemed to fill the space between us and I hated sounding like such a damper. My situation was different from hers. I thought it was great for her to express she was different in a way that would draw attention but not from the wrong people. I personally couldn’t guarantee that if I had made the same decision to be different, my actions wouldn’t have drawn the wrong attention. She had the advantage overall; she could handle herself, and she had already learned to deal with and accept having an elemental power. At her age, I was just discovering mine.

“I think what you’re doing is great,” I finally said, unable to stand the silence. “It’s good to be able to express yourself in ways that don’t endanger you. Drei and the rest would be really proud of you.” I smiled at her.

“You, too?” she asked, glancing at me before diverting her eyes sheepishly.

I couldn’t help but smile; I would never have kids but it felt like they had been mine, especially that first year. I was their temporary mom, their older sister, their liaison to the occasionally unfriendly and intimidating vampires. That was me. “Of course. I’m proud of you. I’m proud of all of you.”

Xenia hugged me, and I hugged her back. She had grown up well over the past couple years and I really was proud of her. Instead of taking out whatever angst she may or may not have had by doing something stupid, she was being smart about it, even if it never felt like enough. It was refreshing for me because it proved to me why I was doing this.

“It was really good to see you again,” she said, pulling back.

“We’ll be in touch. But I shouldn’t keep you any longer from your friends.”

“Talk to you soon, Leirba.” At my pleased but shocked look, she added, “Yeah, Valetta told me about that, too. It’s different. Pretty…but different.” Then she was off to the boutique.

I sat for a while longer, just wondering how many other elementals felt as trapped as I had and she did, and how many were capable of breaking out in some small way like Xenia had. It hadn’t occurred to me until then how many there might be. I mean, I had felt trapped, but I was more worried with fitting in than standing out and fulfilling my own need to be myself. But hearing her put it that way, seeing the way she was settling to handle it, gave me even more motivation—if that was even possible—to succeed. If I could, no elemental would ever have to settle for being less than who they were again.

Eternal: Chapter Four, Part 3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course I understood it.”

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

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

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

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

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

Eternal: Chapter Four, Part 1

Chapter Four: Light My Fire

Valetta and Mitchell searched for a few people I had met at the camp whom I knew would be assets to the project if we could find them. I had absolute confidence in their ability. The only restraint I gave them, however, was not to approach them regarding the movement. That was something I needed to do personally.

Drei helped me find the one person locally I knew would be the most difficult to approach. Then, after insisting I adjust to introducing myself as Leirba, he disappeared, claiming he had something he needed to do. I didn’t know what he was doing but I trusted him, so I tried not to let the worry overrun my thoughts.

The day had been overcast but I had arranged a rendezvous after dusk, not wanting to risk frightening my guest with an unanticipated injury. We were meeting at a café. It had been forever since I had had a cinnamon chai latte and I couldn’t help breathing in the scent every few minutes to luxuriate in it; it smelled like heaven.

I had to wait quite a while for her to arrive—granted, I had been extremely early. When she walked through the door, I couldn’t help smiling at her. Her long red hair cascaded over her shoulders. She was wearing her classic skinny jeans paired with rainbow flats to match her tie-dye tee. Fashion aside, she wasn’t how I remembered her; her lips smiled, but sorrow and guilt made her cautious, tentative. Sleepless nights left dark circles under her eyes that showed through her concealer; she looked thinner.

“Caroline,” I called, catching her bronze eyes.

She smiled a little more warmly as she strolled up to the table. Cocking her head to one side and furrowing her brow slightly, she asked, “Have we met before? You look…familiar.”

“I’m Leirba,” I said, shaking her hand.

She gasped and grimaced; “Your hands are freezing.”

Folding my hands in my lap, I nodded my head in the direction of the empty seat. “Please…sit.”

“I’ll just get something—”

“Mocha chai?” I interrupted, motioning to the girl at the counter. I had already ordered and paid for it, but I didn’t want it cold by the time she arrived. The guy working brought her drink over a moment later, smiling flirtatiously at the two of us before returning to work.

After taking a drink, she set her cup down and stared at me a moment. “How’d you know?”

“I have my ways,” I replied cryptically, still holding her gaze as I sipped my own drink. Her brow furrowed in confusion and I could see the allure Mitchell found in puzzling me. True, I hated when I was the one being puzzled, but there was something about a good secret that made riddling another person entertaining.

“I really think I’ve met you somewhere before. I’m almost certain,” she insisted, sitting forward on her elbows. “But it doesn’t make sense because she—she…never mind.” Silence fell between us as she watched her finger run along the rim of her mug.

“She what?” I asked gently. “Died?”

Her bronze eyes shot up at me, surprised but also horrified and hurt. “Yeah;” she studied me carefully as if I were the devil. What I was doing was somewhat evil, I’ll concede, but it probably would have gone a lot worse if I’d come straight out with it from the start—the most likely outcome would be her yelling and storming out, and I couldn’t waste time chasing after her. She needed to arrive at her own conclusion about my identity if I was going to be able to bring her and the others into the fold within the month.

“Are you sure?” I tilted my head to one side, staring at her.

“I was there,” she replied softly, daring me to prove her wrong.

I sauntered to the counter, picking up a napkin on the way there. Using one of their pens, I wrote out Leirba in capital letters and drew an arrow from the A to the L. After thanking the guy at the register, I returned to our table and slid the napkin across its surface so she could read it.

At first, confusion flitted across her face as she tried making sense of it. She even glanced up at me a few times in disbelief. Disbelief and confusion quickly transformed into a bittersweet joy which was tossed aside by grief and guilt, her face disappearing into her hands as silent sobs wracked her body.

“Caroline?” She worried me. I hadn’t any idea she was this shaken by it. No, that’s a lie. I did know. Her entire revolution fell apart because she thought I was dead. Because she blamed herself.

“I’m so sorry, Abs,” she murmured into her hands. “I never meant for any of that to happen; I was trying to prevent anything like that. You weren’t supposed to get hurt. I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”

Laying a hand on her forearm, I said, “You have nothing to be sorry for; you aren’t responsible for what happened.” As I spoke, I worked at untying the knot of sorrow and guilt inside her, pulling the emotions surrounding the event away from her and setting them adrift into the sky; only then was I able to loosen and release the pain of the event. All of it floated through the ceiling in blue and decaying black ribbons; it was almost as beautiful as when I had done the same for Nick upon our first meeting. Of course, then, I hadn’t really known what I was doing. I was just hoping my crazy idea would work.

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.”

Eternal: Chapter Three, Part 4

“Abriel Jones,” the voice summoned, yanking me from my plotting. I hadn’t realized Drei had exited.

Drei stood before me, a hand outstretched to help me stand. I took it without hesitation, allowing him to pull me into his arms for a brief moment. His touch was assuring, though pain and fear washed from him. I was used to feeling pain from him, but I couldn’t remember him this afraid. There had been times where he had felt fear, but not this strongly. It was unlike him. I squeezed his hand, realizing all I could do was hope this worked.

The room hadn’t changed, not that I had expected it to. But it almost felt like sunlight should be filtering in through the shuttered windows. I was greeted, however, by the same flickering lamp light and gloom.

“We shall be asking questions regarding your relationship with Miss Bevinston, Mr. Jameson, and Mr. Valmoritim,” the one woman—sitting to the right of Tudor—explained in a clipped voice. “When and how did you come to acquaint yourself with Mr. Valmoritim?”

“Drei? I’ve been acquainted with him for six years Valentine’s Day this year. He stopped two thugs from mugging and raping, and possibly murdering, me,” I replied, hoping I didn’t sound as defensive as I felt. If they wanted me to put him in the light of a villain, they weren’t going to succeed. Not even Valetta, or Drei himself, could make me see him that way.

“When did you become acquainted with Miss Bevinston and Mr. Jameson?” she asked, her fingers laced and resting before her on the table. She sounded impatient, which didn’t help me to remain calm. If I wasn’t careful, I could be as snippy as she seemed to be.

“At the elemental safe camp Drei led. That’s where he took me after I lost control at school. Both Valetta and Mitchell worked under him,” I elaborated, unsure how much or how little to say. “We’re friends.”

“When did you leave this camp?”

“Just over three years ago, February.”

“Did anyone accompany you?” she pressed, leaning forward slightly.

“Drei did. He left Valetta in charge of the camp,” I said, staring at her. My heart was racing because I didn’t want to lie, but the truth sounded so incriminating, especially considering how she asked each question.

“Was there anything Mr. Valmoritim did to seduce you, appear dishonorable, or the like?”

Shaking my head, I replied, “No. He set things up so I could work with Caroline and see how to run a revolution; he made sure I stayed healthy because I have problems with insomnia; he was even patient and encouraging when I was impatient and frustrated that I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing.”

“There is no need to be defensive, Miss Jones,” the presiding vampire interrupted, lightly tapping his fingernails on the desk before him. “You are not the one on trial.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop the rash reply begging to escape. I might not have been the one on trial, but I might as well have been.

“May I continue, sir?” the woman asked in her clipped, impatient way. When he nodded, she inquired, “From the previous interrogations, it has been understood that you and Mr. Valmoritim were separated for a time. How long were you separated and why?”

“Almost eight months.” I didn’t want to go into the why because it really was complicated. But I didn’t want to be rudely reminded to answer the question, either. I’d need them in a decent mood if my bargain was going to work and that, unfortunately, meant playing nice. “It was because he thought I was lying to him about my involvement with Caroline and her project. The situation might have been avoided if we had communicated with each other better,” I added. What happened wasn’t entirely his fault. A great deal of it was mine and Caroline’s, though hers was more indirect than anything else.

“What were the circumstances, as you understand them to be, surrounding your turning?”

“I was shot;” I shrugged. How much of an answer did she want? When she didn’t say anything, I added, “I was already dead. Or maybe I was still dying and just thought I was dead. Either way, I woke up and that’s when Drei told me what he had done.”

“What was his reason behind the act?” she asked, her eyes glinting as if this was the answer that would make the case against him.

“He loves me,” I replied softly, diverting my gaze downward—not from embarrassment or shame, but because it felt like I had betrayed him. The truth here wasn’t setting anyone free. It was condemning us all. “Because, he said, he couldn’t imagine living without me.”

“What are your personal feelings for Mr. Valmoritim?”

Catching her gaze, wanting to ensure she received my answer and wasn’t going to twist it to suit their cause, I responded, “I love him with all of my heart.” She opened her mouth as if to say that it wasn’t love but I interrupted her saying, “And it is not some effect of seduction, or attraction, or anything he’s done intentionally. It was my decision to love him long before I ever knew he loved me.” Tears pressed at my eyes. I doubted they were moved at all, but I couldn’t contain my feelings when I was starving or guilt-ridden, trying to be polite and hoping against odds they would take my suggestion.

“It is entirely possible you have imagined loving—”

“It isn’t,” I interrupted the presiding vampire. Not smart, I know. And not playing nice, either. But this was one thing I knew for sure, and they didn’t. Nothing they said could convince me I was wrong in this. “And I know because I spent a year trying to convince myself not to love him;” I cried, any restraint I had over my emotions lost. “I know what happened, and we both tried not to love each other and to no avail.”

Silence flooded the room as they stared at me, either shocked or indignant I had interrupted and refused to go along with whatever they said. My hands worked to clear the tears from my eyes as I struggled to regain some sense of composure. This wasn’t over yet.

Eternal: Chapter One, Part 3

We went walking almost nightly after that. The only nights we didn’t was when Drei had other things to do, but then he’d let me open the windows in the apartment and do as I liked, so long as I didn’t leave. He still wasn’t sure why I wasn’t constantly hungry anymore, and didn’t want something to happen when he wasn’t there. I didn’t hold his worries against him; I loved him, and somewhat knew how he could be before I told him as much. Despite everything in our past—the fights, the separation, the disagreements—I couldn’t fathom loving anyone else as much as I did him.

Before Drei had come to some conclusion about my hunger “issue,” I had guessed it was heavily rooted in my element; it was the only thing that really made sense considering how intense it was now. His conclusion reflected this.

“Your element and your vampire inhabit the same space, obviously,” Drei said one evening at breakfast. “It makes sense they would share everything else, including your nutrition. When your element is sated, which happens when it is being actively used as much as I can tell, your vampire is also sated.”

“But not vice versa?” I asked.

“No, because your element cannot draw nutrients as your vampire does.”

“So how does my element draw nutrients?” That was the concept I didn’t understand. Drei shrugged in response; because he didn’t have an answer, I still had to drink a mug of animal blood once a week to ensure I was receiving all of the nutrients I needed. Though I had grown accustomed to the taste, it wasn’t something I had learned to enjoy consuming.

It took a long time for me to figure it out, but I eventually did discover how my element drew nutrients. When we went walking, my element automatically began exploring everything, reaching out to hear, see, and feel various things and people in the surrounding area; by doing this, my element was extracting energy from people, plants, animals, sound, anything and everything, basically. It never drew so much from any one thing to be disruptive, but it drew enough that by the end of our walk, I had nutrition enough to fulfill my needs.

I thought about telling Drei, but he seemed satisfied enough having pieced together what he had. Besides, I doubted it would dissuade him from my weekly blood requirement.

Oftentimes, I would fall asleep in Drei’s arms around sunrise, though I knew he would leave again to wait for his phone calls. Part of me was concerned with how many calls he had been taking lately, considering he’d never been much for chatting. I chose to trust him. If it continued on much longer, I would ask about it again, I decided. I had a right to know, and it would be better to ask than to do nothing and let the nerves build until they exploded. We had already been there once before; I didn’t think either of us was too keen on revisiting.

Vampiric: Chapter Twelve, Part 3

It felt almost like the air had been sucked from my lungs. None of this was making the least bit of sense and it was starting to unnerve me. Why couldn’t he just come out and say whatever it was he was avoiding? He wasn’t making anything better or easier. It only seemed to be messier and more puzzling.

“I don’t understand,” I conceded slowly, hoping against odds the answer would come before he said it. His hesitancy was making me fear it, whatever it was.

“I lost my sisters, and it nearly ruined me,” he whispered. “I could not imagine what losing you would be like, and I never wanted to know.”

“Drei…what did you do?”

He stood, my slipping from his as though he had forgotten it was there, and started pacing along the foot of the bed. “What I did is unforgivable and I understand if you loathe me,” he said, refusing to look at me. “I never wished my fate on anyone—least of all you…but I cannot undo what has been done.”

“What did—” It clicked. I had changed, but I hadn’t died. Not entirely. “You turned me,” I whispered, not sure how I felt about it. On one hand, it meant I could be with Drei and it was considerably more difficult for me to die. It also meant I hadn’t failed yet. But on the other, it meant facing the Council, for they would know eventually. It meant never growing old or living a full life. Would I be able to have children if I wanted them?

“I could not imagine living without you longer than I had already,” he murmured, his pacing stopped but his gaze hidden in shame.

I stood—or tried to, I should say—to go to him, instead bringing him to me as my legs crumpled under my weight. “You are still suffering side effects,” he explained, helping me into bed again. “You will be weak for a while, until your body adjusts. It doesn’t help you were injured when I—” The sentence completed itself, despite my fogginess. “Your wounds are healed, however,” he offered hopefully.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I said, “I love you, Drei. Nothing, not even this, can change that.”

“Not even the way I treated you?”

“I never stopped loving you.”

“Neither I you.” He held me in his arms, the embrace familiar but strange. If anything, it was more powerful, strengthened by his relief and our former separation.

Then the moment was ruined by me and my newly acquired thirst. He laughed uneasily, though he tried to feign lightheartedness. He left briefly and returned with a mug of warm, dark liquid. “Animal blood,” he offered.

“Do I have to?” My stomach felt sickened by the thought as my mouth watered for it.

“You will grow accustomed to it.”

“I don’t believe you.” I held out against drinking it a while longer before thirst won out. Surprisingly, I wasn’t tempted to gag at the coppery liquid. If anything, I wanted more. But Drei said I needed to learn to curb my thirst early on before I began experiencing blood lust. I wasn’t strong enough to press the issue.

“You need more sleep,” he insisted, setting the empty mug on the bedside table. “That is the only way to regain your strength.”

“You’re always telling me to sleep,” I teased, lying down again, exhaustion washing over me.

“Because you seldom tell yourself,” he replied, grinning, his fingertips gliding down my scar-less arm. I closed my eyes, enjoying his touch, soaking it up after having longed for it.

“Thank you,” I whispered, feeling myself drift off.

“Do not thank me for my selfishness,” he murmured softly into my ear as he lay beside me.

I thought about telling him how unselfish he had been. His motive was selfish, but in retrospect, he had done so much. He had given me the deepest secret he had as well as bought me more time to figure things out. He had saved me from failing, and no one else could have given me that. No one.

Vampiric: Chapter Ten, Part 3

Our first broadcast of the year was over, a magnificent success in beginning her call to action, so it provided another excuse for us to celebrate. Even though Ian, Caroline, and I had more work to do mapping out what action we wanted our now four million plus supporters—based on conservative estimates—to take. That was our next problem.

Ian and I waited at the back of the crowd as she made the toast that would commence the fête.

“This is not a celebration of victory,” she began, smiling around at everyone. “We haven’t won anything. This is not a celebration of everyone who has claimed to be one of us and spread our message. This is a celebration of us. Of everything we’ve accomplished over the past year, and everything we will strive for this year. This is to our team members who have left, those who have joined, those who have made sacrifices on our behalf and chose to stay in our company.” Her eyes stayed a moment on mine before moving on with her toast. “To continue on for the sake of people they do not know, but want to help. As we continue on this year, let us remember that out goal isn’t to take over. Our goal is to spread truth and aid the general public in realizing if they want a better life, they’ll have to make it, because our government will not.

“So this is to us! For all we have done, and all we have yet to do.”

“To us!” the crowd cheered, downing their poison of choice.

As music started up and people broke into groups to socialize, Ian and I slipped out, heading for her office. We expected her to be delayed by questions and adoration, possibly even drunken requests for a dance. Who knew? The employees were a wide range of people, all dependable and loyal but occasionally unpredictable. It’s what made them perfect.

“Ian,” I said as we sat in our usual seats, “is there some secret you have that you’d like to share?”

His sapphire eyes darted up momentarily, a flaming eyebrow raised in puzzlement. “Such as what?”

“Such as would explain that kiss on the cheek the night you told me to talk to Caroline.”

“Yes,” he admitted, sitting forward on his elbows. “I’m madly in love with you, love.”

The seriousness in which he said it made me laugh. “Really, though,” I said. “You didn’t move. So as flattering as that would be, it’s an outright fib.”

“If you know, why are you asking?” he asked readjusting his cap of the day—a crocheted cap in a houndstooth print.

Shrugging, I sat further back in my chair. “I want to hear it from you. Just as you wanted to hear it from me.”

“Fair enough,” he conceded, grinning mischievously. “But let’s make this a touch more interesting.”

“What?” That wasn’t part of my plan.

“Entertain me,” he requested, sweeping an open hand out to his side. “I’ll still let you in on my secret, but, what do you think it is?”

“That you’re an elemental, too.”

“Since I’ll be specific, you have to be as well,” he bargained, his smile growing larger. “So which element, love? You have a 25 percent chance of guessing right.”

“Air,” I replied. His personality was just too close to mine, and which else could blow a kiss so accurately?

“Seems you’ve found me out,” he smiled, leaning back again.

“Wasn’t hard when you gave yourself away.”

“I had planned on telling you when you told me,” he confided, seriously. “Then I was called away.”

“Does Caroline know?” I inquired, curious if he had ever shared with her.

“Well, I haven’t told her in so many words, but I’ve left plenty of clues for her. Whether she pieces the puzzle together or not is her choice,” he said, shrugging. I didn’t blame him. Just as she hadn’t directly told me she was fire, and I hadn’t outright told her I was air. We had simply revealed it to our advantage.