by Marta Szemik
“Fine; I’ll see you Saturday night.” She paused before adding, “No cancellations.”
“No cancellations,” I promised.
Mira dropped her hands and turned her head toward the window, then back to me. I read concern and anger in the lines of her tightened cheeks. She looked as if she were listening to someone I couldn’t hear. Then her eyes grew distant, as though she were lost in her thoughts, and she nodded slightly, agreeing with unheard words. She tried to hide this, but there wasn’t much a face could hide from me.
“I’ve got to run. There’s some business I need to take care of,” she said, the sudden change in her behaviour out of character. Lips tight, she dashed out the front door.
“See you soon,” I called after her, and waved.
The door didn’t get a chance to close before a young man stepped inside. Tall and clean-shaven, he wore a black shirt that clung to his toned abs; his brown hair, bleached by the sun, held a hint of red. Turquoise eyes pierced mine—eyes I knew well.
My eyes fell on the design on his left wrist, and I caught my breath with excitement. The tattoo confirmed it was him. Dark green leaves within clean black edges, petals purplish on the bottom, shimmering blue at the top identical to mine—it was the tattoo of our blue orchid.
My mouth dropped open so I covered it with my hand. Even so, I blinked rapidly and rubbed my eyes, then lowered my arm behind the counter to pinch my thigh to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.
I tried to speak, but the words stuck in my throat, choking all sound. “Uhm . . . ahh . . .” I finally managed. My cheeks felt hot. My heart skipped a beat. His did the same.
For the first time in my life, I wasn’t dreaming about William. He was actually here.
I smiled and shifted my gaze back to William’s face. When my mouth opened, I hoped my vocal chords would cooperate, but as quickly as he’d come in, he turned and walked out again—and disappeared.
“William! Wait!” I yelled, an explosion of sound from my lungs releasing the tension in my throat. “Come back!” I rushed out of the store after him and starred.
His legs were long, and his steps too quick for me to catch up—not unless I wanted to use my other half, and I couldn’t give into the vampire inside me. Not now . . . or maybe, not yet.
My legs fought my mind as I began to trot. The trot turned into a run, and soon my legs carried me at their will. I’d lost control, and buildings and cars swooshed past me as the wind pressed against my body. Still, William seemed faster. Pushing my feet to their limit, I didn’t want to let William go out of my sight, yet he disappeared like a drop in an ocean. My feet stopped. I stood frozen, soles of my shoes cemented to the sidewalk.
“Ugh!” I snarled in frustration. Why did he leave without saying a word?
My reflection in the storefront window display reminded me of someone else. Sweaty shirt, cobwebbed hair and grey circles under the eyes weren’t part of a fashion statement I wanted to make when meeting William.
My lungs filled with air, drawing his scent in. The smell of the stranger who’d picked up my hat three times in the past month, the scent penetrating dreams . . . the same fragrance as my blue orchid. How could someone who had so much power over my emotions just walk away?
I pressed my hand to my heart, over the anguish lingering in my chest—not the pain of hurt, but a heartache. Deep sorrow buried under my breastbone, the sorrow of having a part of me gone; grief and distress at being torn away from the handful of people I loved. It hurt so much I’d kill to get it back.
Feeling empty, I touched the middle of my chest and knew William would not be there when the nightmare became reality. The pain of the scar was bearable; knowing William would be nowhere near wasn’t. He was the only one who could fill the emptiness in my heart.
* * *
By early afternoon, a storm hovered over Pinedale, mimicking my feelings. The murky weather had appeared out of nowhere. I stared out the store window, following the streaks of raindrops coursing down the glass. Each rivulet flowed on a specific path, then it connected to another bead on the way down, then another and another, until it became one broad stream that plunged toward the windowsill.
Two oval drops on opposite sides of the window trickled down at the same pace. One veered right, toward the center; the other one, left. They followed a ragged pattern across the glass, getting heavier on the way, collecting other droplets. Finally, they joined and danced down to the bottom as one.
I smiled, allowing determination to return to my body, recalling his heartbeat so clearly, it could be mine. William’s flowery cologne settled in my store. As the scent filled my lungs and passed through me, time slowed, clearing my thoughts. This always happened around the blue orchid, my most potent flower. My senses intensified; everything happened in slow motion; tiny air particles circled in front of my eyes, dancing on the breeze from the heating vents; clusters of molecules created spiralling drawings, colourful swirls in front of my eyes.
The grandfather clock in the back room struck ten times; it was no longer daylight outside. As I cleaned the store, I abandoned the slow human motions; my movements were swift, my survival instincts strong. I’d never felt as free and didn’t want to stop my other half as it stirred. The corners of my mouth stretched up as I thought of Sleeping Beauty waking, years after pricking her finger: her body frozen in time, life progressing, time passing around her as she lay there motionless, unable to live until awakened by Prince Charming . . . William was my prince, the blue orchid his kiss.
When I left the store, the streets were empty. I hesitated, looking over my shoulder, fearing this night welcomed someone other than the creature lurking in my skin. But the vampire in me wasn’t afraid. With my back straightened, I confidently walked the familiar short path by the river toward my house. Tonight, not even a mugger would stand a chance.
I meandered, following my feet, letting them remember the way home. It was a bright night, the sidewalk showing as a light shade of gray, the white moonshine silvering parked cars and glittering in a nearby pond. The white oval in the sky made this night more complicated and difficult for me. My instincts grew stronger. The need to hunt surfaced like a hungry lion. Lust emerged as if I were a teenager wanting to explore another body. The needs of the other half were taking over.
The full moon above reflected in the front door of my home. It was the enemy I would be fighting tonight. When I stepped over the threshold, my gaze flew toward the dark corner of the living room, drawn by rustling wood chips and squeaking rats. The dryness in my throat increased.
My “pets” climbed one on top of another, trying to escape, as if knowing their minutes were numbered. I crouched by the third crate and picked up one of the rodents by the back of its neck. The hunger won, but I refused to drink from the source. I broke the rat’s neck, sliced it open, and filled a glass with red fluid.
“At least it looks like red wine,” I observed.
Plugging my nose out of habit, I gulped it before the blood cooled and became lethal. Its potency flew through me, expanding my veins. The pale skin on my hands flushed. I drank the blood of five more; each one tasted sweeter than the one before.
Sated, I shifted my gaze toward the kitchen, thinking of the clear syringe filled with blue fluid in the fridge. Like an addict needing her next fix, I jabbed the needle into my thigh. The serum spread through my body like hot water. Sweat beaded and dripped from my forehead. I crashed down on the couch in the living room, falling into the middle of a dream.
A fire engulfed a wooden building in a jungle. I’d seen the building before, but it was difficult to recognize it behind the red and blue flames. My need to put the blaze out overpowered any rational thoughts that I could get hurt, but I knew the logs of the cabin would crumble within minutes. Thunder sounded, not too far away. I let out a cry and wiped the tears with the ball of my palm. Rage flowed through my body, and it shook like I’d had a seizure, helpless against Earth’s element. Fury rushed out of my mouth i
n the form of foam. Ash fell like snow, covering my hair. Rain began to pour, and the penny-sized drops sizzled on the scorching wood, releasing smoke to the top of the canopy.
I woke up screaming. Sweat turned into pearl-like drops as it slid down my arms onto the sofa. The smell of the smoke wrapped in my hair. The dream was not only intense, but sickening. It tore at me from the inside out. Sadness tightened around my heart in an unbearable ache. I hated when my dreams turned into nightmares that would become real, and lately that happened almost every night.
“Enough! Why is this happening?” I shoved the glass syringe from the side table to shatter on the floor. “I don’t want to sleep anymore!”
The next two nights, I reduced the dose by half, as I always did when the nightmares returned. The lower amount of serum would allow me to stay awake without having to give in to the instincts.
Forced back to sleepless nights, I felt torn. I wanted to be mortal but couldn’t silence the immortal. I could not find my place in the world. Unlike the raindrops on the window, I remained alone, unable to find my path.
Chapter 5
William focused on his feet, grimacing at the thick layer of mud on the shoelaces, residue from the crossing in the Amazon. The hideous disguise of a homeless man had become a nuisance. This was not the way he wanted to present himself to Sarah.
He wondered whether she’d go with him to his home. Two weeks had passed since he came to Pinedale, and he still hasn’t worked up the courage to introduce himself. Coward! he berated himself. I should have said something by now.
William wanted to tell her he was here, that he was real and that he needed her. He wanted her to know he was the William from her dreams, and she wouldn’t be alone anymore. The half-breed envisioned running across the street to the flower shop so many times, imagined being welcomed by her embrace. Then he’d take her face between his hands and press his lips firmly against hers instead of saying hello . . .
Each time William thought about Sarah, the urge to sweep her away grew stronger. He memorized the exact location of each freckle on her cheeks, the way her auburn hair bounced when she walked to work each morning, an aloe and vanilla fragrance wafting from it that he found hard to resist. Her beauty must have captivated more than one suitor, yet she seemed lonely. William watched her through the glass window as she arranged the flowers. She picked the dying petals off roses to unveil the fresh buds.
As the days passed, he became convinced she belonged with him. The need to touch her grew. But he had to listen to Atram, his father. He couldn’t get close—not that way, but temptation charged the need into a compulsion. He wanted her like he had never wanted anything in his life . . . and they’d only exchanged two short sentences:
“Thank you. Have we met before?”
“No.”
His heart had skipped a beat when her voice hit his eardrums. It took on a new rhythm, one more synchronized with hers. He’d wanted to say more, but feared he wouldn`t live up to the dreams she’d had of him.
Coward!
Sarah`s fresh scent had travelled from William`s nostrils straight into his bloodstream. He could recognize it from miles away. Smelling Sarah`s aroma overpowered his senses. She had control over his body, and she didn’t know it. William wondered whether he’d be able to control his desires around her. After all, he was still a man, with needs like any other.
Every time he came closer, ready to take her, he’d hesitated. When he passed by the store to make sure she was still there, he wavered. How could he not? He had never met her. Sarah had just received confirmation from her aunt about who she was, and now he had to take her away before the seekers found her. They were getting closer; he sensed it. Their stench of rotten eggs and dirty socks circled nearby towns.
William feared her safety would soon be compromised. Who else could protect her the way he could? Mira and Xander had done a great job, but even the shifters could not shield her from the seekers indefinitely. He knew first hand, for the siblings had trained him. Once the seekers found Sarah, more would come. William hoped she’d trust him the way he’d been told by his parents. But doubt lingered as he knew he’d only inhabited Sarah’s dreams.
Wednesday. I’ll talk to her tomorrow.
William knocked on the wooden door of a wide bungalow marked 21 Front Street. The door opened as soon as he lifted his fist. The aroma of freshly baked pumpkin pie made his stomach rumble. He smiled at the welcome in the lady’s face.
The hostess eyed William from top to bottom, then called over her shoulder, “Mira! Xander! It’s for you!” She looked back to her visitor. “Hello, William, we’ve been expecting you. Come on in.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Gobert. I wasn’t sure I’d be expected.”
“Don’t be silly, dear.” She paused. “You’re much wiser than many will give you credit for.”
William had been cautioned that the witch spoke in riddles. Hesitant, he walked inside and hung his filthy coat on a hook by a wall mirror. He turned back to close the door, but she’d already locked it. The half-breed followed Mrs. Gobert down a long hallway, pausing as she stepped to one side to discreetly push the basement door shut; the rising fog escaped under the door. She gestured with her hand to come in, but William stopped at a hall table.
“Beautiful tulips. Yellow are my favourite,” he said, admiring the arrangement.
“That’s why they’re here, William.” Her mouth curved in a mysterious grin.
The sparkling aura around the tulips held his eyes. He touched the silk ribbon and leaned closer to smell the flowers. Sarah! Her scent overwhelmed the fragrance of the bouquet.
“Are you coming?” Mrs. Gobert smiled politely.
“Yes, of course.” He pulled his hand away from the vase, almost knocking it over.
“Be careful, William. Wouldn’t want those to end up on the floor,” she teased. The hardwood flooring squeaked when she strode over the aged strips of oak.
William followed her into the kitchen, watching her long, navy-blue dress dance over the tiles as she swayed her hips and hummed under her breath. Her hair, wound into a thick brown braid that fell to the small of her back, swung in rhythm, and the collection of heavy bracelets on her left wrist chimed, occasionally revealing a small birthmark while rattling. She turned to face William and gestured for him to take a seat. He pulled the chair out; when he looked up again, Mira and Xander stood across the table.
“I’ll let you three be. Holler if you need anything.” Mrs. Gobert patted the siblings on their shoulders and then strolled down the hall, no doubt headed back to the basement and its thickening fog.
“Thanks, Mom!” Mira called. She immediately turned to William. “Has she seen you?”
“Yes, but she didn’t know it was me.” He tried to add certainty to his guess.
“I doubt that.” Xander snorted and gripped the back of the chair in front of him, knuckles white. “You don’t give Sarah enough credit. Oh, that’s right—you don’t really know her.” He stood tall and straightened his shoulders. Xander was shorter than William by an inch or so, but the way he presented himself made him seem taller than anyone in his company.
The half-breed studied Xander’s tense neck muscles, his flexed arms, his head tilted slightly to the side in challenge, and William knew it would be difficult to persuade the shifters to let Sarah go.
“Why are you here?” he asked William, suspicion covering his deep voice.
“I need to tell Sarah the truth. And I need you to be okay with—”
“Why are you here in Pinedale?” Xander’s jaw tensed.
“Sarah’s in danger. The seekers have sensed her. They’re on their way here, about a week away. I’ve been able to divert them with her scent as a lure.” Now came the hard part. William wanted to exhale, but there was no air left in his lungs. “I have to take Sarah away.”
“No way!” Xander growled. His muscles hardened to solid rock, and he didn’t bother hiding his sharp teeth.
“Play n
ice, kids,” Mrs. Gobert called from the basement.
Xander hid his incisors behind his lips. William held his back.
“Xander, I’m sure you understand the severity of the situation.” He tightened his fists under the table and tried reasoning. “The seekers will take her from you if she stays.”
“And they won’t from you?” he challenged.
Why am I better for her? William wished he could answer with his heart and what he felt. “I can take her to a place that’s safe where she’ll be protected.”
“Where’s that?” Mira asked. She’d been observing the men from the side, her eyes narrowed as if she was waiting for William to make a mistake she could argue against.
“I can’t tell you.”
And there it was.
“And we’re supposed to let Sarah go to hell knows where?” she echoed her brother’s tone with a sneer.
“Yes. It’s the only way she’ll be safe. And I know you’ll do what’s best for her—the way Ekim wanted.” He drawled to make his voice more pleading, more believable.
“And what does Ekim say about it? Why isn’t he with you?” she asked.
“You know he doesn’t want Sarah to know her father is alive—not yet. And, she wouldn’t trust him. She’ll trust me because she knows me.”
The siblings rolled their eyes. “We should still run it by him,” Mira replied.
“It’s not possible to reach him. He’s on the run, diverting the seekers,” William lied, hoping they’d believe it.
“William, you have to understand that our promise to protect Sarah binds us until we’re released. It’s not that simple. We can’t just let her go,” Mira explained.
“I understand, but this is what’s best for Sarah.” he countered, softening his voice. The only way Sarah’s watchers and best friends would agree was through reason.
“I’m going with you.” Xander stood taller.
“You have to stay here to cover our tracks. For Sarah’s safety.”