Afterlight tdic-1

by Elle Jasper

  After a quick shower, I quickly ate a can of SpaghettiOs and changed into something Phin suggested: comfortable, movable clothes. I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but I took no chances: a pair of baggy jeans that sat below my hips, a black ribbed tank, and a pair of well-worn Vans. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail, slipped on a belt to keep my baggy pants from falling around my knees, and was ready to go. At least, I thought I was. I was learning real fast to always expect the unexpected. I popped four ibuprofen tabs to keep away the soreness I knew my body would be experiencing — was already starting to feel — from the Dupré workout. It was well after dark when we left, and Luc as well as Josie joined us.

  For the first hour, we simply mingled in the streets with the tourists. Sunday nights were typically slower than the rest of the week, but there were still a good handful who stepped out into the historic district to wallow in Savannah’s atmosphere. I found myself obsessively searching for a crowd of delinquents wearing dark hoodies but never caught the first sight of them. We hit all the main squares, walked Broughton Street east and west, and even strolled through Starbucks. Mullet was in there with his übertall girlfriend, and I spoke to them for just a few seconds before leaving.

  It was nearly midnight when we found ourselves in a small alley two blocks over from the Panic Room, and that was when I caught sight of them. Huddled together, they knelt on the sidewalk next to a streetlamp, completely engrossed in . . . something on the ground. Phin grabbed my arm as I moved forward.

  “No way, Riley,” Phin said, and we all fell into the shadows. “Watch, not approach, or don’t you remember the other night?”

  I glanced at him. “Yeah, I remember.” Todd could have killed me.

  “They grow stronger every day,” Josie said beside me. “And Seth doesn’t know you anymore.”

  I’d already known it — Eli had said as much. But somehow it hit harder now, and it hurt. An ache spread through my chest at the thought of my brother not knowing me. I studied each of the boys and couldn’t determine which one was Seth.

  Just then, one of the boys shifted, and I saw all too clearly what they were so intrigued by: a body. By the size of the chunky black boots I estimated a male; I couldn’t tell whether he was dead. My stomach lurched at the thought, and I wanted to react. No way in hell was I going to sit by and watch as my brother sucked the blood of some dude lying on a dirty sidewalk. I moved, and a hand abruptly stopped me.

  “We can’t drink the blood of the dead,” Phin said, grasping me with a steely grip. “It’s lethal for us. That’s why they use dope.”

  “To sedate and subdue,” Josie said flatly.

  I felt my face lose what little color it had. “Will they kill him?” I asked, afraid of the answer.

  “No,” Luc said. “They can’t make their first kill until the quickening is complete.”

  “They’ll take him back to the Arcoses, and they’ll kill him,” Josie offered.

  In the next instant, I shifted — barely a movement, from one foot to the other — and one of the boys heard. Several hoodies glanced my way, but one in particular had enough light from the streetlamp illuminating his face for me to get a good look. Seth’s extraordinarily pale face and lightened eyes stared hard at me; blood was running from the side of his mouth. I reacted — I lunged. And Seth lunged back, both of us at the same instant. He was close enough now that I could see the depth of his eyes: crazed, unfamiliar, incoherent — nothing at all remained of the loving, sweet brother he once was. The others stood, glaring; the energy around us snapped, and I knew they were ready to pounce.

  “Shit — get her out of here!” Phin yelled, and Josie grabbed me and yanked so hard I thought my arm had popped the socket. She all but dragged me away, and behind us I could hear the fight that had started. We ran — hard — I had no choice, really. It was run or be dragged. I followed Eli’s sister and rolled beneath a red-tip shrub and into a neighboring yard. The grass was damp and cool with dew, prickly and stiff. We both jumped up, crossed the lane, and started running.

  “You have to go back and help them,” I said breathlessly. “I’ll go straight home — promise. But seven against two are bad odds — even for a vampire.”

  Josie stopped and stared hard at me. “Promise?” she asked, then frowned. “Swear it.”

  I nodded. “Swear it. Now, go,” I said.

  She watched me for a split second longer, gauging her trust of me, no doubt, then took off. I ran in the other direction, toward home. While my gut told me to stay and fight, my brain told me to get the hell out — I was nowhere near capable of handling myself against a newling — much less a group of newlings. It ate at me to run away — it just wasn’t in my nature. But all three Duprés together could fight off Riggs and the others, and my being there would be a total and possibly lethal distraction — to both parties. As I ran hard and fast beneath the streetlamps, my Vans pounding the paved sidewalk, I prayed the Duprés wouldn’t accidentally hurt my brother.

  I turned at the intersection at Martin Luther King and ran up River Street, the lights and activity at the west end not nearly as heavy as at the east end, but I’d get there soon enough. I hurried up the cobbles, the old Atlantic Paper Company on my left, then past the Hyatt. I crossed over to the river walk, slowing now to a jog. I glanced over my shoulder and didn’t see any hoodies, so I began to walk, out of breath. I couldn’t help but wonder who the victim on the ground was; I’m glad I hadn’t seen his face. I knew I’d never rid my mind of Seth’s pale skin, with blood dripping off his chin; it was too horrific. I felt like screaming at the top of my lungs; I felt like hitting something — I felt sick to my stomach. I started to run again — ran hard. Very few people were out on a Sunday night at midnight — even on River Street, and I had free rein on the walk. I jumped over the short wall barrier and headed to the river. At the section across from Inksomnia, I stopped, leaned over the rail, and threw up. Never, ever would I forget what my brother had looked like, what he’d unknowingly done. I hated this. I hated all of this.

  I stood there grasping the metal railing, breathing hard. The night air was stagnant, the low tide making the scent of the marsh pungent, and the shoals of oysters bubbled and popped across the river from Dafuski Island. The mosquitoes were out in armies, and I slapped my neck as they bit. Damn, I hated mosquitoes. I pushed off the rail and turned to go inside — but gasped and jerked to a halt as I stared straight into the vacant, opaque eyes of my brother.

  I stood frozen in place; my eyes widened and my insides quivered as I stared at Seth. I hated being afraid of my brother, but I was. He almost looked dead, with his skin so pale and translucent, his eyes a completely different shade of green — nearly white now — and his lips a darkish blue. Dried blood streaked his chin. His nostrils flared as his gaze settled on the side of my throat, at my carotid, and I took a step back. With a sound emanating from his throat that no longer sounded human, he moved slowly toward me. Again, I froze, and he stopped. I know he didn’t recognize me, and was pretty sure he’d followed only because he’d caught sight of me. Josie and the others had said more than once Seth wouldn’t remember me or his previous life. Had she been wrong?

  The air tensed around us; Seth and I were both on edge and about to lunge — I could feel it. I slowly eased back a few more steps, until my flesh grazed the rail, and my hands followed, encircling the metal in a tight grip. “Seth,” I said quietly, steadily, my eyes directly on his; hopefully he would concentrate on my face and not my hand movement. I was going to freaking jump in the river if I had to, despite the bull sharks that patrolled the waterways — another thing not mentioned in the tourist mags and brochures. I inhaled slowly, and even that slight movement was noticed by my brother. He flinched and jumped at me. “Seth!” I said, louder, and he jerked as though he’d been struck. His chest rose and fell rapidly, faster than human, and his Adam’s apple bobbed unnaturally — like he was swallowing something rapid-fire, over and over.

  Then his face
drew taut and his eyes widened, and in the next second, he lunged for me. In the same breath I threw my legs over the handrail, and before I could drop, Seth’s body just . . . stopped coming at me. I tightened my grasp and held on to the railing, suspended, until my hands started to sweat and my fingers grew cold and numb. Nothing happened. I had no idea whether he stood there, waiting, or . . . what? No more than thirty seconds passed, and I’d decided a swim with the bull sharks was going to be my finale for the night. Then Phin’s face appeared over the rail, and he reached down with one hand, grasped one of mine, and effortlessly hauled me back over. “Riley — what the hell are you doing?” he asked.

  I looked at him, then looked around. “What’d you do with my brother?” I asked, ignoring his question, still scared but trying to shake it off.

  In the lamplight, Phin’s flawless pale face, chiseled features accented by the light dusting of scruff on his jaw, all but glowed. Even though he had different colored hair he looked a lot like Eli. He cocked his head. “What are you talking about?”

  I glanced up the river walk, toward the west end. I saw nothing. “I left Josie and ran here, stopped, and barfed over the railing.” I looked at Phin. “When I turned around, Seth was right behind me.” I met his gaze. “He knew me, Phin. I could see it.”

  Phin’s face turned hard. “In his opaque eyes, you mean? He didn’t recognize you, Riley. Not this far into his quickening.” He shook his head. “No way.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, glanced upward at the more than half-circle moon that slipped in and out of misty clouds, and sighed. “He did. He lunged at me, and when I called his name” — I looked at him — “he flinched. He stopped when he didn’t have to.”

  Phin rubbed his neck. “Then, where’d he go?”

  Glancing at the place where Seth had just stood, I shrugged. “He lunged for me, I threw my legs over the railing, and he just . . . disappeared.” I stared up both ends of River Street. “What about the guy? Back in the alley?”

  Shaking his head, Phin grasped my elbow. “Don’t dwell on it, Riley. They took him, probably to the Arcoses. Come on, let’s go,” he said, then mumbled something French beneath his breath. “Eli would kick my ass if he knew I let you off alone,” he said to himself, but I’d clearly heard.

  We crossed the cobbles and old trolley rails, gained the sidewalk, and walked to the narrow alley next to my building. “Why’s that?” I asked. I knew it was fake coy, but I didn’t care. I wanted to hear it. We climbed the steep concrete steps to Factor’s Walk, and Phin gave me a sly look.

  “He just would,” he answered, and continued to look at me with curiosity. “Why’d you barf?” I looked at him, and he held up a hand. “Ah — never mind.”

  “Right,” I said, and fished the key out of my pocket as we mounted the top of the steps and turned down the merchant’s drive. The moment we reached my back door, images of Eli kissing me hard against that very door raged through my mind, and so did everything that followed: his hands, his mouth, his body inside of mine — it overwhelmed me. I found it beyond weird to think I’d known Eli for such a short time. It seemed like years. I wasn’t a virgin; I’d had sex before. That night with Eli wasn’t sex. It was something else that to me had no name, no origin, and obviously something I’d never experienced before — probably never would again. I accepted it as that and pushed everything else out of my brain.

  Chaz barked as soon as he heard me push the key in the lock; he had to go out. Grabbing his leash, we walked him for a few, then headed inside for the rest of the night. I made a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich, and Phin sat on the counter while I ate.

  “My father says you’ll need to close your business for the last week of the quickening,” he announced. “I was supposed to tell you earlier, but I forgot.”

  I stared, midbite. “No way.” I bit, then continued to chew. “I’ll take off, but Nyx can run the shop. This is high season for me, and unlike you, I didn’t come from money.”

  Phin smiled. “I confess — that is a pretty sweet deal. But Papa made us each invest — even Josie. We all have our own money.” He smiled. “Microsoft.”

  “Do you have a social security card? Driver’s license?” I asked, and took another bite. I chased it with a long gulp of milk from the carton and regarded him. “Insurance on your bike?”

  He grinned. “Of course,” he said. “We pay taxes, too.”

  I shook my head and rinsed my plate in the sink. “I don’t even want to know how you manage that.”

  Phin just chuckled, hopped off the counter, and flopped onto the sofa. To look at him, or Luc, you’d think they were just a couple of hot young guys without a care in the world. But I’d seen them in action. They were tough-asses to the max.

  “Pretty impressive fighting today,” he said as I walked from the room. “Sincerely.”

  I turned and grinned. “Yeah? You too, Dupré. Night.”

  Phin laughed a total guy laugh, said good night, and flipped on the TV.

  I had to constantly remind myself that he used to suck the blood out of innocent humans.

  After a shower, I left my hair wet, wadded it up high on my head, and wrapped a band around it to keep it in place. I pulled on a cami and a pair of black boy shorts, and sighed. I was sore and exhausted; my mind whirled around seeing my baby brother in his quickening state, and wanting — needing — Eli. It’d shocked me to learn he’d gone to Da Island to get rejuvenated — whatever that exactly meant. It had taken a lot of control for him to walk away from me, and Gilles’ words, or warning, felt heavy in my head. ’Twill end badly, chère. Between our kind and mortals, it always does. I crawled into bed, glanced at my closed French doors, and drifted off to sleep with Gilles’ words still ringing in my ears.

  In my slumber, another dream claimed my consciousness, and I found myself in a dark, hazy underground club — I didn’t recognize it, nor did I recognize the patrons. Was it a masquerade party? Halloween? Themed? Everyone was dressed in modified Victorian garb; women’s gowns dipped exceedingly low, revealing heaving breasts and nipples, and slits up the front and back of their flowing skirts exposed their nakedness when they moved. The young men wore dress velvet coats with tails and ruffles, their pants laced in the front but with laces loose and mostly undone; some openly groped themselves as they sucked an exposed breast. A themed orgy? An odd mixture of music played, one of Gregorian monks chanting and the ancient strings of a harpsichord. I glanced down at myself and noticed that I wore the same as the others; my breasts and nipples were also exposed, and I had no panties beneath my skirts. No one seemed to notice me, and I eased away from the corner I was standing in and moved along the edges of the crowd, seeking an exit, covering myself with my arms folded over my chest. I had no idea why I was there, only that I wanted to escape.

  Then he was suddenly blocking my path; I knew I’d seen him before but didn’t know his name. He was not Eli. A black-haired woman was at his side, her face hidden in his shoulder, her fingers entwined in the laces of his breeches, fondling. The man was flawless and beautiful; his gaze raked over my body, and wherever it lingered, my skin burned, tingled with desire. His hand lifted to the woman beside him, and he grazed a thumb over her hardened nipple; I felt it and gasped with pleasure. A smile tipped his sensual mouth, and he leaned to the woman and whispered; I heard it. He said, “Stroke me.” The woman’s hand slipped inside his breeches and palmed him, moving slightly up, then down; I felt it, too, hard and sleek in my hand. His gaze never left mine, and I hated how excited he made me. I wanted to escape; I was powerless to move. He whispered to the woman, “Taste me.” With her back to me she knelt before him, freed him, pulled it into her mouth; I felt it in mine, and I grew wet between my legs as I watched her head bob against him. He stared at me with a gaze so intense and powerful, I hadn’t the ability to move, and he smiled seductively at me, and whispered, “You look good enough to fuck,” and then licked his lips, sending me into a breathless orgasm; then his eyes rolled bac
k as he found his. I hated him; I wanted to be closer to him. It was then that the woman shifted, exposing a piece of bared back. At the same time I recognized my dragon tattoo, she turned and looked at me, smiling as she delicately wiped her mouth with the tip of her finger. The woman was me. All of the other patrons stopped their orgy at once to look at me. I blinked, and their faces contorted into those of monsters, their teeth jagged and gnashing from unhinged, exaggerated jaws, and they lunged at me. Terror gripped me, and I began to run, faster, and everything became barren and bleak. And suddenly I was no longer at a Victorian orgy but in a heavily wooded forest filled with long shadows and darkness. I was being hunted. . . .

  “Riley!”

  As my name being said out loud made it through the webby edges of the dream, I gasped and lunged forward, and steely hands were there to catch me. My heart pounded mercilessly, and I was breathless, grasping onto . . . someone. At first, I thought it was Eli. It was still dark, but I soon realized it was Phin.

  “Whoa,” Phin said, trying to comfort me by patting my back. “Slow down, girl. What’s wrong with you? You’re gonna have a freaking heart attack.” He pulled the sheet that I’d kicked out of to cover up my lower half.

  “Bad dream,” I said, and suddenly felt a wash of weakness overcome me. I fell back onto my pillow. It was just like before — I had no energy.

  “Tell me about it,” he said. “It always helps.”