by Elle Jasper
For the night, we’re a normal couple in love.
I guess this is something I’ll have to get used to, and I pray to God I can one day control it. I can’t just run around having people touch me, inadvertently hurling me into their bodies only for me to experience some mind/body/life altering event that I can somehow change or help. I mean seriously.
Or can I?
All I know is that Seth and Eli are my world. Preacher and Estelle are my world. The Duprés are my family, and I have a shitload of the most bizarre friends a person can have.
But I’m not a person, am I? Hell no. I’m an abomination. Human, but not. Vampiric qualities, but thankfully, not a bloodsucker. I can be killed, but I won’t naturally die on my own for hundreds of years. And lucky for me, the aging process is slow. I’ll look twenty-five for a helluva long time. That’s a plus. No Botox for me.
I’m grateful, in a way, that Seth shares the same fate as me. Probably not to the severity, since he’s only had one vampiric encounter, and me, four. But we’ll have a longer life together, and that suits me. I can’t imagine life without my little bro.
So, all in all, I’m adjusting. To what, exactly, I’m not sure. I still love to ink. Sketch designs. I’m proud of my work and my accomplishments. But I’m now heavily considering passing ownership over to Nyx, occasionally inking when I’m in town, and then utilize for the good these crazy ass powers I’ve acquired. And since Eli and Seth are in it, along with Noah and Phin? Why the hell not.
We’ll see.
I’m sitting at Molly MacPhearson’s. Across the room, a group of seven women has gathered, and after eavesdropping, I determine that they’re celebrating a local author’s new book release. Pretty cool. They all clink bottles of lager and say what I can only imagine is an inside joke, and then they all burst into laughter. They have the craziest names, too, like they’ve all given each other nicknames. Gma. Cinny. Oogen. Auntie Betsy. Molly MacNugget. Bunty. Walowie. One of them—Oogen—gets up at everyone’s urging, heads outside, and begins to pass back and forth in front of the window in some crazy little run. They all laugh. I don’t get it, even though it is pretty hilarious. They’re in tears, they’re laughing so hard. A group of girlfriends, a night on the town celebrating a fine success. What fun. It’s something I’ve missed in life. But I have a family now, and a new group of friends. Sure, some of them are vampires, some werewolves, and some have been on the earth longer than dirt. But I like them. I watch the women a few minutes longer until they gather their belongings and leave. Still laughing. Calling one another vulgar names. It’s so funny, I hate to see them go.
Until I notice him.
Eli stands beneath the awning at Belford’s across the street. He sees me through the window. I see him, and I move outside toward him. My soul mate.
For now, even if for a few days, I want to enjoy my life. Live it as normal for at least one damn afternoon if possible. Eat a good meal. Have some good sex. Take a walk. A swim. Crack a few oysters on Da Island with Preacher and his family. That is, if Bhing hasn’t torn the island up. Last I heard, her cleansing was pretty rocky. Mean as shit, I think I heard someone say. Poor little Bhing. Anyway. I just want to be freaking normal for a while.
Because very, very soon, I have a feeling I’ll be boarding a plane for Scotland.
Jake says Edinburgh is being taken over by a band of nasty fallen angels and my tendencies just might come in handy. Ginger and Sydney seriously want me to join WUP. I’m heavily considering it. I mean, what the hell else am I going to do with all this pent-up energy?
We’ll see. For now, I’m all about Eli Dupré. And thankfully, he’s all about me.
I’m as content as I’ll ever be.
I think my mom would be proud of how I’ve turned out. And somewhere deep inside me, I feel she watches me, even now. I like that. Makes me feel close to her, as if she’s right beside me.
I like to think that she truly is.
Who knows? I run with a pack of vampires, werewolves, and immortals. Who says ghosts aren’t real? At this point in my strange existence, I’ll believe just about anything.