by Morgan Rice
The old woman reached out and took Caitlin’s hand with both of her small, frail hands.
“I was in your position once,” she said cryptically.
Caitlin stared at her, trying to understand, wanting to know more. She wanted to know everything. But there wasn’t time.
“It’s real, isn’t it?” Caitlin asked, fearfully. “It’s all real?”
The old woman stared back.
“You will come to learn, young lady, just how real it is.”
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Sage stood on the back terrace of the house, watching his final sunset over the Hudson River. His bags were all packed, securely in the trunk of his car, ready to go. No one had seen him pack, except his sister, the rest of his clan out and busy during the day. After their little argument, she had left him alone—going god knows where.
Sage felt bad about it. The two of them had a long and complicated relationship, about as complicated as a two-thousand-year sibling relationship could get. On the one hand, she was always his biggest critic, ready to point out his faults, and always the first one to complain to his parents about anything he did wrong. On the other hand, he always sensed that deep down she was attached to him, and truly loved him. There were, in fact, a handful of instances over the centuries when he could remember her actually standing up for him, completely surprising him. That was her: inscrutable. After two thousand years, he felt as if he still didn’t really understand her.
As he looked out at the last light on the Hudson, at this place he’d called home for centuries, he felt nostalgic. He wasn’t really ready to say goodbye. He wasn’t ready for life to end, period. It was amazing, he realized, but despite having lived thousands of years, he still felt like he didn’t have enough time. He just wanted a bit more. Just time enough to be with Scarlet, and to live out her lifetime with her.
He heard a commotion inside and took a deep breath, bracing himself. The time had come. He’d have to confront his parents. He’d have to tell them he was leaving. That this was his final goodbye.
His relationship with his parents was even more complex than his relationship with his sister. Over some of their centuries together they had felt like his parents, while over others, they had been more like siblings—and over others, they more like his own children. Their relationship seemed to be ever-evolving. Over the last hundred or so years they had fallen squarely back into the parents role, and Sage wasn’t really used to it, or ready to concede to it this time. Now, when they tried to order him around, he didn’t feel obliged to listen. He was through listening to them. They’d had centuries to order him around. Now, it was his time. Now, nobody was the boss of him. And while he knew they would throw a fit when he said his goodbyes, at the end of the day, there was really nothing they could do about it.
Sage turned and marched into the house, prepared to get it over with. He marched across the great living room, across the family room, dining room, and ascended the wide, twisting marble staircase that led to their master room. As he reached the top landing he saw the large double doors were open and walked into their thickly-carpeted room, floor to ceiling windows stretched out in a circle, overlooking the Hudson.
There, before a huge, walnut desk, sat his mother and father, both agitated, looking down, poring over papers. She wondered what paperwork they could be so upset about. After all, they would be dead in a few weeks. Didn’t they realize that? They should be out there living—not sitting here worrying. He was amazed everyone spent their final weeks of mortality worrying, doing anything and everything but living. Not him. Now, finally, he was determined to live. To really live. Since meeting Scarlet, he found a reason, and he was determined to.
The two of them looked up. Immediately, their faces crumpled in frustration.
“There you are,” said his father.
“Where were you all day?” asked his mother.
“I’m through with being interrogated by you both,” Sage replied. “I just came to say my goodbyes. I’m leaving.”
“You are not,” answered his father.
“And where do you think you’re going?” asked his mom.
“As I said, I’m through answering to the two of you. It’s been a great two thousand years. It really has. But our time together is over. In fact, all of our time on this planet will soon be over. Let’s end this graciously. Goodbyes are so cumbersome.”
His parents looked at each other, then at him. They saw that he meant it. A worried look flashed across their faces.
“So that’s it?” said his mom. “Just a curt goodbye? You’re just going to abandon us? Abandon the whole family? Just like that?”
“That’s just like you,” his dad said. “Looking out for your own needs.”
“This is about her, isn’t it?” his mom asked, her eyes narrowing.
“Leave her alone,” Sage said firmly. “You’re wasting your time with her. Her key will do you no good if she’s dead.”
“On the contrary,” his father corrected. “Her being dead might just do us all the good in the world. You still don’t seem to realize that we will stop at nothing to have what we want, do you?”
Sage slowly shook his head. They just wouldn’t listen.
“You can’t harm her,” he said. “Not without harming me.”
His parents snorted in disdain.
“You’ve underestimated us, once again,” his dad said. “We saw this coming—and we’ve already prepared our contingency plan. In fact,” he said, looking down at his watch, “Lore will be leaving at any moment. He will achieve what you failed to, and will brings us what you could not get.”
“And then,” his mom added, “when all the rest of us achieve immortality, guess who’s getting left behind?”
His parents both grinned, an evil grin, and Sage felt himself fuming. Was it true? Had they really set Lore in motion?
He studied their expressions, their small, satisfied smiles, and sensed they were telling the truth.
Sage summoned his super hearing, and zoomed in on the activity in the far reaches of the house. As he did, he could hear a commotion in a far corner of the house. He sensed Lore hurrying through the rooms. This meeting had been his signal. His parents had indeed set him in motion to find Scarlet. To kill her.
Without another word, Sage suddenly turned and raced from the room, through the open front doors, down the marble staircase. He took them three at a time, and found himself on the lower level, in the large marble foyer. At that moment, Lore was also dashing across the room, heading for the front door. Sage sensed that he was on his way to kill Scarlet. He was determined not to let that happen.
It all happened in a flash. Without thinking, Sage charged across the room and slammed into Lore, tackling him to the ground just before he reached the front door. They both slid halfway across the marble floor until they slammed into a wall.
Sage spun on top of him and pounded him several times.
But Lore was equally powerful, if not more so. He quickly spun Sage around, and kneed him hard, knocking the wind out of him.
Sage, determined, found an opening and spun and kicked Lore square in the chest, sending him across the room.
“Stop it! Both of you!” screamed Phoenicia. She ran into the room, trying to break up the two of them, as she had their entire lives.
But this time, she would not. Sage was determined. And so was Lore.
Sage thought quickly. He was desperate, absolutely desperate to stop Lore, and there was no way he could outfight him.
In a sudden flash, Sage realized what he had to do: he had to kill him. For good. For all time.
It was something Sage had wanted to do for centuries. Something that the Grand Council might even have permitted, given all the new feeding Lore had done lately. But it was something that no one in Sage’s clan had the backbone to do.
But now, finally, with nothing left to lose, the time had come. It was time for Sage to kill one of his fellow Immortalists. He had never done i
t before. But he knew how.
As Lore got up and raced back towards Sage, this time, Sage waited. He let him get closer and closer.
Sage waited until Lore was halfway across the room, beneath a chandelier, directly across from the huge mirror over the fireplace. Then he burst into action.
Sage reached over, grabbed a candlestick from the mantle, and just as Lore was perfectly aligned with the mirror, he hurled it.
“NO!” Phoenicia screamed, realizing.
There was a huge shattering of glass, as the pieces of the mirror poured down in a million pieces. It was what Sage was aiming for. It was the only way to kill an Immortalist: to catch his reflection in a mirror, then shatter the glass.
Sage looked over, expecting to see Lore flat on his back, dying.
But what he saw stunned him.
As he looked down, he didn’t see Lore there, but rather Phoenicia. She lay on the ground, gasping for air.
Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Lore dart from the house.
Sage realized what had happened: Phoenicia had jumped in the way of Lore’s reflection. It was her reflection that got caught. It was she who he had killed.
Sage was suddenly overcome with guilt and grief. He had never meant to harm his sister.
“Sage?” she asked, looking up, a shocked expression on her face. “Why did you do this to me?”
“Phoenicia!” he screamed, wailing, collapsing to his knees.
He bent over her and held her head in his hands, wiping her tears away. Tears of his own dripped down onto her face.
“I’m so sorry!” he wailed. “It wasn’t meant for you. It was never meant for you!”
She sat there crying, while he knelt there immobilized, unable to leave her side.
“Was she really worth it?” she asked, in a weak voice.
As she lay there, dying, Sage rocked her, her words tearing his heart in two. He knew he had to leave, to rush to the dance, to meet Scarlet. But he couldn’t bring himself to run away from here, not while Phoenicia was dying like this. He knelt there and held her, wishing fate didn’t have to be so cruel.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Scarlet walked across the school grounds, treading through the grass on the chilly October night, sloping downhill towards the bonfire and the dance. Halloween had finally come, and she held her jacket tight around her shoulders as she went, unable to get warm.
As she walked by herself on the darkened grounds, the occasional group of kids sprinted past her dressed in costume, screaming, acting stupid. A group of boys brushed past her as they sprinted towards the bonfire and one of them shouted in her ear, acting stupid to impress his friends. She jumped, and tried to turn and shove him—but by the time she spun, he was already far ahead, racing towards the fire. She hated Halloween.
In the distance the soaring bonfire lit up the night, and it was the main source of light in the vast, open field. All around it, the school had strung up little lanterns, illuminating an area about half the size of a football field. She could already hear the music, muted, the base pulsing, and already see people dancing, wearing glow sticks around their necks, the shaking lights of their necklaces punctuating the night like small fireflies.
As she approached, she felt a growing pain in her stomach. The day had been interminably long, with her counting the minutes until it was over, until she could be done with all this and back in Sage’s arms. After the disaster of her first class she’d kept a low profile, trying to just avoid everyone; she’d found an old baseball cap in her locker and had pulled it down low, sitting in the back of each class, slouching, and burying her head in her books.
But as much as she’d tried to concentrate on her books, it was no use. All she could do was think of Sage, all day long. She counted the minutes until they could leave together. She couldn’t stand waiting for the night, but she knew that Sage was right, that it would be safer for them to leave town in the cover of darkness: by the time people started asking around, they would already have a head start. She also understood that he’d needed time to gather his things and say his goodbyes.
She, on the other hand, had no goodbyes left to say. After school, she’d considered going back home and packing, but didn’t want to risk running into her parents. She couldn’t deal with them anymore. They had become too weird and unpredictable; she almost felt as if they had turned into strangers in her house, into people she didn’t even recognize. Her loving, devoted father had become angry and confrontational, and her mom had just plain lost it.
Scarlet thought back on all the happy memories they’d had together, on how much they’d loved her, how much she’d loved them, and wiped a tear from her eye. She couldn’t understand how it all had gone so wrong so fast. A part of her still loved them, and missed them terribly—and wanted to go back and say goodbye to them.
But another part of her knew that would not be possible now. She was changing—she knew it, could feel it in every fiber of her being. She could feel it in her heightened senses, in her ability to hear things far away, her sense of smell, the pain in her eyes, her surges of strength and rage. Most of all, she felt it in her desire to feed, which seemed to be growing stronger each day. She could no longer lie to herself, no longer hide what was happening. She knew it was true: she was becoming a vampire.
Reading her mom’s journal had convinced her. Her mom had been one, too. She felt sure of it. She didn’t understand how, or when, but she knew it was true. Her mom knew. And when she saw her mom’s note, that she must stop her, it was like a knife through her heart. Scarlet felt that her mom wanted her dead, and after that, she could not bear to see her mom again.
So instead of going home, Scarlet had idled the time after school down by the river, going by herself to the Hudson. She combed the shore for rocks and sea glass, throwing them into the water. She sat on a log for hours and stared out, watching the tides roll in and out, contemplating her life to come. She was internally, silently, saying goodbye to all this, to this beautiful river, to this quaint small town, to the normal life she’d once had. She knew that after tonight, after Sage picked her up, the two of them would be gone, far from here, and never coming back. And she was ready.
As she got closer to the bonfire she thought again of Sage, of their incredible night together on the island—and her heart beat faster. As upset as she was with her life, she was equally happy with Sage. He filled her heart, her entire soul, with a newfound hope. And as she thought again of what he had told her, that he only had weeks to live, she felt determined to spend every last minute with him. She was also determined to find a solution for him to live longer.
She reached down and felt her necklace, at the base of her throat, as she walked more quickly towards the fire, so close now that the voices in the crowd filled the air. She also reached down and felt the ring Sage had given her. She loved wearing it: it was like wearing a part of him. She wondered where they would go together. She didn’t really care. She just wanted to get away from both their families, from all their friends, from all the obstacles in the path of their love together. She just wanted to go someplace where it could be just the two of them, with the world to themselves.
As she finally reached the big dance, Scarlet snapped out of it, and felt a swirl of emotions race through her. The day had finally come, and ironically, here she was, showing up without a date, something she’d vowed she’d never do. Not to mention that just days ago, she and Maria had vowed that if they didn’t have dates, then they would go together. How quickly everything had changed. Now, here she was, alone, not even speaking to Maria; now, none of her friends were even speaking to her. Just a few days she had so desperately wanted to go with Blake, but now, she had turned him down. Now, she had a date of her own—even if he wasn’t actually here yet.
As Scarlet reached the crowd, she scanned the faces, looking hopefully for any sign of Sage. She wandered through the thick crowd, looking over the hundreds of eyes. Most of the crowd were in costume, making spott
ing him difficult. She wondered if he’d be in costume, too—but then quickly discounted that. Of course he wouldn’t. He didn’t need to be: he was already different than everyone else. He was an Immortalist.
Scarlet looked down and suddenly felt self-conscious about not being in costume herself—but then realized that was silly, especially as several girls passed her dressed in vampire outfits. After all, she, Scarlet, was the real vampire here. What need did she have for a costume?
Scarlet passed folding tables on which sat huge bowls of punch, with serving ladles and cups. She noticed a few kids spiking their glasses with a clear liquid from a flask hidden in their pockets. She realized that many of these kids were probably already drunk, despite the watchful eyes of the school administration.
The music was blaring, blasting a dance song. On the makeshift dance floor in the grass, hundreds of kids were dancing to the beat; it was a strange sight to see this dance club outside, on a football field. She kept working her way through the crowd, winding between groups of people, looking at all the costumes, wondering if behind any of them was Sage.
She felt increasingly desperate as she reached the end of the crowd and saw no sign of him. She flooded with panic as worst-case scenarios crossed her mind: had he changed his mind? Would he not show, leave her stranded? Would she be left all alone in the world?
The thought set her heart pounding. She quickly tried to push it out of her mind.
Stay positive, she told herself, again and again. Maybe he’s just late.
She circled through the crowd again, and came to the huge bonfire. Dozens of kids stood around it, staring at the flames. Most of these were the kids without dates, not dancing on the floor. A lot of them had long sticks, roasting marshmallows. The huge pile of wood burned higher and higher into the night, crackling and popping as it did.
As Scarlet scanned the faces, she suddenly recognized a familiar face: Maria.
Maria noticed Scarlet at the same time. She looked at her, then rolled her eyes and turned and walked away.