by Lauren Beltz
Sebastian’s face, Davidson could tell that Lenore hadn’t said a word.
“Uhhh, no. She has locked herself in her room for the time being, but I highly doubt the two are related. You know how she is. But anyway,” he continued, “after what happened with Hayley today, I think it would be a good idea for her to at least be able to handle herself should anything happen like that again.”
“I’ve learned a lot about your sister,” he commented, though it wasn’t strictly the truth. In fact, he had hardly learned anything about the siblings at all. But he had observed her, and he knew a lot about her personality that he hadn’t had to ask. “She doesn’t strike me as someone who can’t handle herself in a pinch. Sure, she gets a bit shell shocked, but self-defense lessons aren’t going to fix that. Sadly, exposure is really the only cure for that.
“And besides, the last thing she needs right now is to be physically exerting herself. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but she looks like a twig.”
“Of course I’ve noticed.” By the snappy tone of his retort, Davidson ventured to guess that the subject was one of the common Lenore-Sebastian topics of argument.
“If she’s not eating, the last thing she needs to be doing is burning more calories.” Davidson was not a doctor by anyone’s standards, but that fact seemed obvious enough to him that he was surprised Sebastian would even suggest it. Sure, Lenore appeared to have frozen up when she saw Anna handle Hayley, but self-defense lessons didn’t seem like the first logical leap to conclusion.
“I know that. And I’m not saying they need to be strenuous exercises. You could go slow, even just go through the techniques with her if you don’t want to practice them. She didn’t grow up in the city, and she’s never had an athletic background. It would be good for her, and I think it would help her take her mind off the whole Hayley incident.”
“I’m more than happy to spend extra time on water duty with her,” Davidson offered, “if she needs to stay busy to keep her mind off what happened.”
“I’m not talking about water duty here, man.” Sebastian sounded frustrated and insistent.
A warning flag rose in Davidson’s mind as he eyed the young man sitting next to him. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“Will you just do this for me? Please. You’re the only one here she really trusts, and if the suggestion comes from me she won’t even consider it.”
He pondered it over for a bit before he finally answered. “I will agree, but only under the condition that you tell me why it’s so important to you for her to learn self-defense right now.”
“She’s my sister. My artistic, highly impractical sister, who used to live with her head in the clouds. She isn’t built for this… whatever this world is now. If she’s going to survive, she’s going to need to learn how. Now.”
There was definitely an ulterior motive behind his request, and it bugged Davidson that again something eluded him. He made a mental note to pay special attention to Sebastian for the time being. “Fine. I will start giving her lessons, but I am free to revoke the favor if I even have reason to consider that it might be adversely affecting her health.”
The pure, unfiltered look of relief that flooded over Sebastian’s face unnerved him. His reluctant agreement should not have meant that much, and the fact that it had made Davidson worry.
Sebastian thanked him several times before heading back inside. Davidson continued to sit on the rooftop, even as the sun began to set and darkness settled over the sky. The events of the past twenty-four hours continued to irk him, and he began to wonder if he was losing his touch.
Nathan
The first time he saw her, he had just awoken and thought for sure it was a figment of his imagination, something caused by the haze of sleep still lurking in his eyes. He had blinked, and she had disappeared as if she had never been there in the first place.
The second time he saw her, he was scrubbing the hardwood floors where her body had lain. They had done a good job cleaning up after themselves, but he still saw the traces of their heinous actions. Again, he wrote her off as something not truly there. When he had sat down on the floor and wiped the tears from his eyes, it was as if he had imagined the entire thing.
But now he saw her everywhere, a shadow of herself that stayed with him throughout the day. The others had stopped by to try to check on him, perhaps even to apologize, but he refused to open the door. Instead, he laid on the couch and stared at her figure in the armchair across from him. She never spoke, but she would look at him in such a way that he could tell what she was thinking.
“I’m sorry,” he told her now, as he sat on the floor in the entryway and stared into the open closet. She sat huddled in the corner, her legs pulled to her chest. “I am so, so sorry, Hales.” He choked on her name as he watched her.
She lifted her head from her lap, resting her chin on her knees. Her soft, brown eyes held sorrow and hurt, and he would have given anything to take that away. He had never wanted anything more than to make her happy, and he had failed so miserably.
“I never should have put you in there,” he sobbed. “You were sick and needed my help, but I was worried for myself. I was so selfish. Being stuck in that small space only made it worse, I know.” He remembered the sounds she used to make, the guttural calls as she had scratched at the door, and it only made the tears fall more fiercely.
“You were asking me for help, and I just locked you away to rot. I didn’t know what to do, but I did it wrong. It was all wrong, Hales. I would give anything to go back and do it differently.”
Her legs slid to the floor, and then she moved to him in an instant. Her hand took his, and he could almost feel her lips against his forehead as she kissed him. How could she ever forgive him? Never in a million years would he ever deserve her forgiveness. She had always been too good for him, and he had spent his life trying to prove otherwise only to lose her in the worst way imaginable.
When he lifted his downcast head and looked at her, she seemed to change. Her beautiful brown eyes turned dark, and the color seemed to change. His heart broke all over again as he saw the transition coming. The time he spent with her felt cursed, as if it was his penance for what he had done. To see her every day, to remember how wonderful she had been, only to have her taken away again, every single time. As her eyes turned yellow, veins of red began to appear as well.
“No, Hales. Stay with me,” he pleaded as he watched her skin sink into the hollows of her bones. She opened her mouth as if to speak, and he watched as her teeth instantly rotted. She made no sound, but he watched as she gasped silently for breath, her hands clawing at his arms for help though he couldn’t feel a thing.
He watched numbly as she turned, reliving the same nightmare he had been dealt for the past week. She changed before his very eyes, and he sat helplessly as she did, as unable to help her now as he was the first time. It broke his heart all over again, day in and day out. He collapsed onto his side, bringing his knees to his chest in a fetal position as he watched her fall over from some unseen force. And then she disappeared in a poof of black smoke.
He stayed huddled in a ball for a long time after, his eyes brimming with tears at the fresh loss. This was his punishment for treating her so; he watched helplessly as she died every day, thanks to him. He would never get her back, and the assurance of this fact drove him further into his hatred and despair.
Lenore
“Like this,” he said as he moved to stand behind her. He caught her wrists and repositioned her hands in the correct position. “And remember, don’t tuck your thumbs into your fists; that’s an excellent way to break them.”
She let out a huff of frustration as she rolled her head around and wiggled her shoulders to loosen them up. They were on their fifth day of training and she wondered once more what had possessed him to suddenly have the urge to teach her. She had to admit, it did help pass the time, but she was hardly any good and he was clearly frustrated as well, making her wonder why he ha
dn’t given up on her yet.
“You always want to be either on guard or on attack. And even when you are on the offensive, if you aren’t punching with a hand you still need to be blocking with it.” He had already told her all of this the previous day, but it didn’t seem to want to stick. She knew the rules, but implementing them turned out to be a lot more difficult than she had imagined. Hand and feet positions were fluid and constantly changing, and sometimes she dropped a fist to her side as she laid out a jab, something that was apparently a blasphemy in Davidson’s book.
“Right,” she said with a nod. She repeated the mantra in her head. Her brain was so filled with techniques and dos and don’ts that she dreamed purely in martial arts. With the concentration she was putting into her lessons with Davidson, she had actually managed to fall asleep for an hour or so over the past few evenings. Even with the Chuck Norris type dreams, it was a welcome addition to her exhausted life.
“Let’s go again,” he suggested, moving to stand back in front of her. He didn’t have a practice target to punch, so he held up his open palms instead for her to aim. At first, she had been reluctant to even swing at him, but the first time she had punched him he had laughed and called her a sissy. She wasn’t quite so hesitant anymore, though