by ID Johnson
We had my mom’s awesome turkey sandwiches for a late meal, and Elliott and I both shoveled down more pie before Cadence declared she was beat and going to bed. Grandma headed off so she’d get home before it was too late, as well, and I realized my perfect Christmas would be over soon. No matter how hard I tried to hang on to it, it was slipping through my fingers.
Once my parents were settled in front of the TV in the living room, my dad reading the paper and my mom crocheting, I headed to the kitchen, looking for something to do, and decided I could empty the dishwasher since my mom and sister had done the dishes earlier. I’d just pulled out my mom’s heavy serving platter when Elliott’s voice startled me. It slipped from my fingers, but before it could hit the ground, he dashed across the room and caught it.
I looked up in awe. He’d crossed about ten feet in less than a second, faster than gravity. I stared at him as we both clutched the dish. “How did you…?”
He didn’t answer. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, taking it from me and opening the correct cabinet and sliding it inside exactly where it belonged.
“It’s okay,” I mumbled, turning back to the dishwasher. “I guess I should be used to that now. I’ve seen it enough times. It’s still… weird.”
“What? My face? Thanks, Cass,” he joked. With a deep sigh, he said, “Not much I can do about it now.”
He had me laughing, which made me think I might accidentally drop another dish, so I took a few calming breaths before I turned to the glasses. “No, that… speed.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, pulling a stack of plates out and putting them away, too, like he’d spent a lot of time strolling around my kitchen. I could tell by the way he said it he did know what I was talking about, though. He just couldn’t let on like he did.
We continued to empty the dishwasher in silence, and I took the few dishes out of the sink and stuffed them into their slots before I closed it, and we both washed our hands. I handed him the dish towel I’d dried my hands on, and taking a deep breath, I turned to face him. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Nope,” he said, using the towel and then looking around like he was trying to decide what to do with it. I took it from him and chucked it into the hamper my mom keeps near the laundry room for dirty dish towels.
“Please?” I asked.
Elliott leaned back against the counter. “Nope.”
Frustrated, I crossed my arms and stared up at him. “Not vampire related?”
He shook his head and let out a deep breath. “What, Cass?”
What I really wanted to ask was vampire related, so I had to choose something else. It took me a moment. “Why aren’t you with your family?”
I think I took him by surprise. He raised an eyebrow at me. “Well, not everyone has a family,” he replied with a shrug.
Noticing his answer didn’t quite match my question, I asked, “You don’t?” He hadn’t said that.
A far-off look crossed his face for a moment before he shrugged it off. “I used to.”
“What happened to them?” I asked, turning slightly so that I was better facing him.
“It’s a long story, Cass.”
“Luckily, I’ve got all night.”
He laughed at me and then started to walk away. I thought he was refusing to answer me, but he walked over to the nook and took a seat at the table. I followed. “I was married once, a long time ago. Things didn’t work out, so we separated.”
Shocked didn’t even begin to encapsulate the way I was feeling. “Really?” I asked. It was so hard for me to imagine him having a wife, especially one he’d been married to “a long time ago.” Knowing someone claims to be in their seventies when they look like they’re only a few years older than you are yourself is one thing; accepting that it’s true is something else entirely.
“Yep. So… I don’t really have a family now. I told you about my brother. And… there isn’t anyone else.”
Something about the way he made that last statement made me think he wasn’t being completely honest with me, like maybe there was someone else, but I decided not to press my luck with this line of questioning. As long as he was talking, though, I decided to keep going. “What’s up with Aaron and Eliza?”
Perhaps that was not my next best question as the air he blew out sounded something like a cross between a frustrated best friend and an angry water buffalo. “Heck if I know,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “That woman is… insane. I am hopeful this was just a temporary lapse in judgement, and everything will be corrected soon, but I swear, if I’m forced to endure that relationship again, I’ll… run away from home.”
I gathered from his expulsion of information that this was not a new thing then. “Aaron and Eliza have dated before?” I asked cautiously.
“Yeah, not recently. I had hoped it was over.” He was shaking his head. “Not really something you need to worry about, though, lil girl.”
I disagreed. “He broke my sister’s heart,” I reminded him, leaning forward slightly.
“I know. But you let me handle that. Don’t you go worrying your pretty lil head about it, okay?”
I could feel myself blushing because he’d called me pretty, so I decided to move on. “What’s LIGHTS?” I asked, and his eyebrows arched high enough to make me concerned for his vision. “My mom slipped up,” I explained.
“Oh,” he said, shaking his head again. “That Liz. First, she doesn’t want you to know anything, then she’s telling you stuff. I wish she’d make up her mind.”
I giggled for a moment before I realized he hadn’t answered me. “What’s LIGHTS?”
“That’s the place where we work!” He sounded slightly exasperated now, like he wasn’t used to people catching him evading questions and redirecting him. “I think you could probably gather that from whatever your mom said.”
“Sure, I could,” I nodded, “which is why I’m asking you what it is. That’s a weird name. Why is it called that?”
“Heck if I know,” he replied again. “I didn’t name it.”
“Does it stand for something?”
“Yes, yes it does. It stands for Lil Intelligent Girls Have To Stop, and it was named that because you need to stop asking questions.”
Now I was laughing hard enough that I was concerned my parents might come to investigate. “Did you just think of that?”
Elliott winked at me. “I’m pretty quick on my feet. Pun intended.”
Afraid I might fall out of my seat, I braced myself against the table and tried to get my laughter under control. I thought he might try to make an escape while I was rendered speechless, but he didn’t. I did notice he was doing that weird thing with his eyes, like he was talking to someone, and once I could breathe again, I was determined to find out what that was all about. I’d seen my sister do it, too. “Why do you look like you’re carrying on a conversation when there’s no one else around?” I asked, finally returning to normal.
He went from looking shocked to shaking his head. “Really, Cassidy. Stop asking me things I can’t tell you.” Elliott pushed his chair back and began to stand. I grabbed his arm.
“Wait! Seriously, I know so much more now than I did before, and I haven’t even told Lucy or Emma, though I’ve been dying to. Elliott, you’re the only one I can talk to about any of this stuff, and it’s starting to drive me crazy. Please, just tell me.”
While he looked sympathetic, he sighed and said, “I can’t, Cass.”
“Why? Because Aaron doesn’t want you to? After what he did to my sister, who cares what he thinks?”
“It’s not that simple. I told you. Your parents don’t want you to know either.”
“Yeah, well, most of what I know is because they keep slipping up. They’re bound to say something more they’re not supposed to eventually anyway. Earlier, my mom said you’ve always been welcome here. What did that mean?”
“It means, your mom knows that I’ve been watching over you for
a long time,” he admitted slowly. “Cass, accidentally saying something is one thing; going out of my way to tell you information I’ve been sworn not to is something else. I’m glad you haven’t been telling your friends. There’s no reason to confuse them and have them running around asking all sorts of questions, too. Seriously, just let it go.”
I couldn’t though. “Will you at least tell me what an IAC is?” That question had been burning in my mind for weeks, since I’d overheard Aaron and Cadence talking about her getting one installed, something I thought Christian was supposed to do.
“Can’t do it, lil girl.” He was out of his chair now. “Why don’t you worry about freshman stuff and let us worry about saving the world?”
I wanted to yell because they hadn’t done a very good job recently, that Jack was dead, and Drew was dead, and Cadence was weird, but I knew it would get me nowhere. I’d have to try again later. “Fine,” I said, watching him go. I imagined he’d head off to the living room to listen to the television like my parents did while they did other things, but he didn’t seem to be the type to crochet, and I didn’t know if my dad would be willing to part with the paper.
I sat in the kitchen for a long time, staring at the wall. Suddenly, all of the Christmas joy seemed to be sucked out of the house, and reality began to set back in, which made me angry because I should still have a couple of hours before the clock struck twelve and everyone turned back into pumpkins. I was so tired of secrets, so tired of being the one left in the dark. I decided that, if Elliott wouldn’t help me, I would figure things out for myself, one way or another, and if that meant re-involving my friends, well then, so be it.
Chapter 4
The next morning, I took my time getting up, showering, dressing, and hauling myself down the stairs. Christmas magic was long since gone, and I looked at the Christmas tree with disdain, wishing it would fold up its branches and put itself away.
My parents were in the kitchen, chatting with Elliott over leftover cinnamon rolls. They all greeted me when I came in, but I proceeded to march to the coffeemaker with little more than a mumble in their general direction. I poured a steaming cup of joe, added almost half as much cream, two cubes of sugar, and stirred it up. I’d never drank coffee before, but I had decided I was an adult now, and adults drank coffee.
It was awful. I almost gagged it tasted so bad. Despite my attempt to make it sweet, it was bitter and gritty. I wanted to dump it down the sink, but I couldn’t let them through my façade, so I took my steaming cup of poo into the living room and found a seat by the window, staring out into the collected snow, wishing I could open the glass and toss out the concoction I’d made.
Maybe five minutes passed before Elliott followed me. I didn’t turn to look at him, and I knew I was being rude, but I didn’t care. “You all right?” he asked.
Ignoring the question, I asked, “Is Cadence still asleep?”
“Nah, she went over to Sidney’s house,” he replied. “Guess she wanted to see her friends before we head out this afternoon.”
“What’s left of them.” No longer able to stand the smell, I set the coffee mug down on the table, still not looking at him. He was sitting in my mom’s chair, and since I’d swiveled my dad’s chair to face the window, that meant he was behind me. I had picked up on the fact that he said they would be leaving in a few hours, too. Part of me wanted to beg them both to stay, or let me go with them, but I knew it would do no good.
“Cassidy,” he said quietly, “I know you’re upset about our conversation last night….”
“What conversation?” I asked, not turning to face him. “Seems to me like I did most of the talking.” I was being very rude now; it wasn’t true. He’d told me a few things he didn’t have to, things about himself he could’ve chosen to keep me in the dark about. But I was feeling sorry for myself, and I wasn’t about to return to my normal blissful persona, not yet.
In the blink of an eye, he was standing next to my chair, his hand extended. “Come here,” he said.
Looking from his hand to his face, I raised both eyebrows and opened my mouth, letting it hang for a second before I said, “Wha—”
“Just come here.”
Slipping my hand into his, I let him pull me out of the chair and followed silently as he headed for the stairs, having no idea where we were going.
Elliott walked straight to my bedroom, closing the door behind me. He pulled my chair out from beneath my desk and sat in it, gesturing for me to take a seat on the bed. “You’re gonna get me in trouble, lil girl,” he said, shaking his head. “What? What do you want to know?”
I stared at him for a moment, not sure whether or not he was actually going to answer my inquiries or if this would be another session of “I can’t tell you”s but I decided to give it a shot. “What does LIGHTS stand for?”
After his hand brushed through his hair, it was standing on end. “Lincoln International Guardian and Hunters Training Station. Do not ask me what any of those words mean.”
The last sentence came out with enough force to cut that question off before I even dared to formulate it. I nodded. At least I’d have something to work with. “And IAC?”
“Intelligence Assistance Communicator.” He was silent, and I stared at him for a long moment, expecting another warning.
When none came, I asked, “What is that?”
“You won’t believe me.”
“That’s okay,” I shrugged. “I shouldn’t believe any of this… and yet I do.”
A smirk crossed his face, like he was saying he knew the feeling. “It’s a computer chip that helps us talk to each other. It’s implanted in our eye, and we can communicate without talking, sort of like having telepathy but with technological assistance.”
“You’re right,” I managed. “I don’t believe you.” It wasn’t that I didn’t—I just didn’t know what to make of that.
Elliott chuckled at me. “Don’t ask questions you’re not prepared to hear the answers to.”
“Can I see it?” I asked. “I mean—you said it’s in your eye?”
“It’s tiny,” he replied. “I doubt you can, but you can look.”
I leaned forward, squinting into his right eyeball as he pulled the skin out of the way.
“Wait,” I said, hopping up and leaning across him to access my desk drawer. I pulled out my magnifying glass and tried again. It seemed like a tiny, black speck was partially visible next to his iris, but it was really difficult to tell. A little frustrated, I put the magnifying glass down and resumed my spot on the bed.
“Listen, Cass, I know it’s gonna be hard, but you’re going to have to pretend like you don’t know any of this stuff, okay? Once you’re old enough, and your sister or your parents or whoever starts telling you all these secrets, you gotta be shocked, all right? Don’t you go getting me in trouble just because I can’t resist those big hazel eyes of yours.”
“Okay,” I muttered, not sure what else to say.
“And I do have something for you.” He pulled a small box out of his jeans pocket and handed it over. “I was actually coming into the kitchen last night to give it to you, but we know how that worked out.”
I held the box in my hand for a moment and stared at it, wondering what it was. I looked at him and saw him waiting for me to open it, chewing on his bottom lip. I’d only ever seen him do that once before, and that was the only other time he didn’t seem completely confident in himself.
Flipping the lid of the box open, I saw a small, golden ring with a pink flower on top. It looked like something a little girl might wear, except, as I picked it up, I noticed the flower petals were made of some sort of sapphires, and there were small diamonds on either side of the main setting. It was polished, but didn’t look new. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered.
“Do you like it?” he asked, leaning even further forward in his chair. “It was my grandmother’s. I don’t have much of anything from my family, but I got that a couple of years ago from a
distant relative. I thought… I thought you might like it.”
I slid it onto the ring finger on my right hand and it fit perfectly. “I love it,” I said, smiling up at him. “Thank you.”
“If you don’t like it, or you don’t want to wear it, I’ll understand.”
“No, it’s awesome,” I said, still staring at it. Then, dropping my hand, I scooted forward and wrapped my arms around him. “Thank you, Elliott.”
He squeezed me back, and the way I’d felt earlier, like the world was closing in on me, seemed to be held at bay once more. “You’re welcome, Cass. I might not be able to tell you everything, but I am looking out for you, I promise.”
Letting him go, I wiggled back onto the bed again. “It’s okay. I understand.” And I really was beginning to. I needed to stop pressing him for information and let things be, at least for a while. It wasn’t fair for me to pester him constantly for things he wasn’t supposed to tell me. “I understand enough now,” I said, thinking it was true. “I know Cadence is some sort of a vampire hunter, and I guess that must be what you are, too.”
He only shrugged at me, an indicator that he couldn’t say more.
“I’ll do my best to keep all of this to myself,” I assured him, “although it won’t be easy.”
“Thanks.” That’s all he needed to say to signal to me that this was what was for the best. “I can always come and talk to your friends again, make sure they aren’t asking too many questions.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, just come on over to SHS and brainwash the whole student body into thinking everything’s normal.” I rolled my eyes.
“Okay.”
Looking up at him, I could see that he was serious. “You could do that?”
“Of course, I can,” he shrugged. “When does school start again?”
Thoughts of him walking down the hallway with me, like my bodyguard, had me giggling. I shook my head. “Uh, we have two weeks off, so the Monday after New Year’s Day.”
“All right. I’ll be there.”
I wasn’t sure if I’d live to regret even mentioning it to him, or if I’d change my mind between now and then, but for now, the idea that Elliott might show up at my school didn’t seem like a bad thing. Maybe while he was at it, he could convince all of my teachers to give me straight As for the rest of the year, or talk Liam into asking me to the homecoming dance. On second thought, maybe I should keep my brainwashing friend at home.