by J. Armand
“You know that’s not the point, Dorian.” He grabbed my arm to stop me. “I’m really glad you want to use your gift to help people, but you can’t live your life in my shadow. You know you’re like a brother to me. I wanna see you do your own thing and be happy.”
“I am happy,” I assured him. “Helping people is therapeutic and the shadows are where I feel most comfortable.”
“It’s been almost a year. The city has moved on, now it’s time for you to. What about the modeling thing? Now’s the perfect time to try that again. At least you’re living with me if it falls through.”
“I never wanted to do that to start with. I want to do something fulfilling.”
“We’ll talk more when I’m home. Go back to the apartment for now. I need to train this newbie.”
“Whatever you say, Sergeant Turner.”
This wasn’t the first time we’d had this conversation in the past year. Lyle got his job back with an award and even a promotion, but still felt he failed to become the hero his father was. It took him a lot to get over losing Vivi and everything else we experienced. For months he talked about how he wished he was supernatural so that maybe he could have saved her. I reminded Lyle that if it wasn’t for him I would have never made it out of my apartment alive that first night.
The city had returned to normal as if nothing ever happened. The very next day most of the quarantined areas were up and running with no one the wiser. It made me wonder how often this stuff happened right under our noses, like the homeless old Outsider said.
We visited my parents’ graves in Boston and I used the money they left for me to contribute to an apartment I shared with Lyle. Every week we would go to the spot in Central Park where we had lost Vivi. It was depressing at first, but we both felt it necessary to not forget that there was good on the other side of the curtain, in their world.
Whenever we hung out, Lyle and I would try picking out who might be supernatural in the crowd. Somewhere out there I had brothers and sisters just like me, and I wanted to meet them. Part of me wanted the family, the companionship, and the safety in numbers for when the peace was inevitably disrupted. Part of me hoped they were as far away as possible, so I would never have to deal with the guilt of bringing them into the chaos.
After some time I started using my powers to tip the balance in the favor of good on the streets. Lyle had his new partner, but the two of us were the real team. I’d walk the darkest corners of the city looking for trouble, then call Lyle so he could make the arrest after I took care of business. I had guns and knives pulled on me so many times, but the expression on the criminals’ faces when I’d bend their weapons like rubber with my mind never got old. Lyle got as much amusement out of it as I did. He would cover for me when they rambled to the police about me, saying they were intoxicated or high on some drug, but eventually all the stories that came in sounded the same and it caused tension between us. He wanted me to move on and I just couldn’t let go.
There was so much out there for me to do. I wanted the road I walked through life not to be paved with the regret that I could have done more. Preventing the loss of any more good people trumped the risk of being found out for what I really was. I never admitted it to Lyle, but a very small part of me sympathized with what The Blighted One was trying to accomplish. Nobody should be forced to spend their life hiding who they are. I can understand how existing as victims of discrimination for all those years might drive someone so mad that they’d jump at the chance for the power to change it all. It made me wonder what the world would be like without the persecution of my kind, or anyone for that matter. Could mankind ever get over their hatred for those that are different?
I turned down the block to my apartment when I felt something hit the back of my head. I looked around, but there wasn’t anyone else there. I was going to ignore it when I spotted something on the ground. It was a book: The Art of War, English Edition.
“It’s a good read.” A voice from behind startled me. I turned around to see Noah sitting on the hood of a car and stared at him in disbelief. “What? Still not used to my good looks?”
“I just never thought I’d see you again.” There was something different about him besides his clothes. He was wearing a black sleeveless hoodie and sunglasses, with his hair tied back. “I didn’t think you owned a shirt, either.”
“You sound disappointed.” He was talking the talk like his usual pompous self, but something was missing from the act.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” He shrugged and crossed his arms. That was it: he was still heartbroken.
“What are you doing here?” I asked to change the subject. “I thought I’d get more than a year of peace.”
“I’m not here for you, I was stopping through.”
“This is kind of a far trip from France to stop through. Did Aurelia send you?” I figured he was here to pay respects to where Vivi died, but it seemed out of character for Aurelia to send him here for that.
“No. So you really want to live like this?” It was his turn to switch topics now.
“Like what?” I asked, knowing he meant as a human. “I made a choice and I’m happy with it.”
“Really? Because to me it looks like you haven’t chosen anything. You’re living between two worlds without standing firm in either one. It’s like you’re still afraid to be yourself. People only choose to hide if they’re lazy, stupid, or afraid. Maybe even all three.”
“Maybe I want peace and quiet. I don’t want to live a life where I’m somebody’s soldier, or their puppet, or pet. I’d think you of all people would understand that.”
“I do, but how long can you keep this up until someone finds out what you are? Our kind are everywhere, and given your potential you won’t go unnoticed forever.”
“Then I’ll move.”
“So you’re gonna keep retreating any time someone calls you out and drags you back into the same mess? Running and hiding aren’t freedom, kid.”
“What do you want me to say, Noah? What do you want from me? I’m not going back to France with you because now Aurelia thinks I might be useful again, if that’s why you’re here.”
“Not France, and this has nothing to do with Aurelia. You don’t have to worry about her anymore.”
“What are you talking about? What did you do?”
“I took care of things, you’ll just need to trust me. You’re coming to Japan. The mountains where I trained should still be pretty isolated. Who knows, I might make something out of you yet.”
“I’m not going.”
“Yeah, you are. Until you’re strong enough or fast enough to stop me you don’t have a choice, and that’s exactly my point. Live up to your potential so no one can stop you from doing what you really want or take away what’s yours.”
I could stop him — at least, I thought I could — but this must have been his twisted way of expressing his respect or concern for me. The only thing keeping me here was my friendship with Lyle, but if I was already drawing attention, it might cause that friendship to end tragically.
“I’ll go if it means I get to kick your smug ass.”
“You get to try,” he laughed with a big smirk across his face. “You’re gonna need every second of your immortality to even come close. First you have to admit what you’re so scared of so you can get over it and move forward.”
“I’m not …” I started to disagree, but then thought about it more seriously. “I guess I don’t want history to keep repeating itself every time I have people important to me. Maybe I can’t hide who I am forever, but I’m worried about my inner demons taking over whenever I do lose someone I care for. I’ve already seen myself becoming that monster, and it scared me.”
Noah was listening intently without his smirk anywhere in sight. It was more of a relief to get that off my chest than I would have imagined.
“When can we start?”
J. Armand, The Immortal Coil