by Abra Ebner
STELLA:
I flew back to the rock and landed, quickly changing into my human form. I had grown ever more comfortable with life in this human figure, but I still didn’t understand who I was beyond a name—Stella. I set the rabbit I’d just caught on the rock where I’d been born into this world. Once the rabbit was laid to rest, I pulled on some clothes I’d managed to steal from a nearby hunter’s cabin—an old sweatshirt and jeans. Still, it did little to keep me warm in this blooming winter weather.
Sliding my palms against each other, I made quick work of skinning the warm rabbit. In my mind I wanted to cook it. I’d watched the man at the cabin perform the task of skinning a rabbit and making fire a number of times now, but I’d not yet attempted it on my own. I was curious, though. As an owl I knew I could survive the winter just fine on instinct, but I craved the chance to be human.
I picked up an arm-length stick I’d stripped of its foliage. With a length of string, I tied it to each end of the stick, making something that looked like the bow the man in the cabin hunted with. I looked at the bow, wondering how it was I knew what it was at all. I must have lived a human life before this one, but I couldn’t remember it. All I could remember were things like words, and general skills like walking, running, and jumping, just not speech beyond the simple line of ‘who am I’. That wasn’t going to get me very far.
I grasped a bit of foliage and made a small pile. Picking up a second stick that was half the length of the first, I looped it onto the string of the bow and stuck the tip of it into the pile of foliage. Holding the bow horizontal with the ground, I began to drive it back and forth like sawing down a tree. The faster I did this the faster the stick looped in the bow spun against the foliage that was wedged against the rock. Soon enough, smoke began to wisp its way through the foliage. I stopped and dropped the bow and stick to the ground. Bringing my face close to the foliage, I blew gently. Within, an ember began to glow.
I gathered the ember in my hands and added it to the pile of kindle I had collected earlier. Fanning the small ember, it eventually grew into a flame and then a fire. Right away I was impressed by the heat it put off. Anxious to eat cooked meat, I skewered the rabbit and set it close to the flames. An hour passed before the meat appeared cooked as I had seen the hunter’s. With anticipation, I pulled the rabbit away from the flames, pinching a bit of flesh near the leg. Right away I yelped as the heat of the meat took me off guard. I waited a moment, my leg shaking with impatience before trying again. This time, the meat was cooler to the touch and I was able to slip off a chunk. It felt noticeably drier than the fresh meat had against my human hands, but it flaked in a way that made my mouth water. I touched the meat to my tongue, and instantly the taste was far more complex than I’d ever tasted with the tongue of the owl. I was taken by the whole experience, and before I knew it, there was nothing but bones.
Finished, I couldn’t help but feel restless as my stomach felt full. The task itself had been completed, but I was bored. I wanted more of this new life. Inside me, something began to tickle up my spine. I tried to determine what the feeling was. Trying it on for size, I began to get the sense that it was a memory that wanted to come out. In this memory, there was the intense feeling that there was someone I needed to find. But who was this someone and why?
Looking at my hands, I picked at the dirt caked under my fingernails. If my purpose was to find this person, this person I now saw as a man, I knew that I could not find them in the human world looking the way I did. What resources did I have to make myself into more of the human I observed watching the hunter? The question presented all the answers I needed. Quickly, I switched back into an owl and flew toward the cabin. It was dusk and I knew the hunter would still be out hunting. It was the only chance I had for the next few days.
WES:
Lacy and I stood outside Emily’s bedroom door. “This is hard for her,” I whispered.
“Hard for her?” Lacy rolled her eyes. “Brother, I realize it’s hard for her. But, don’t you think it’s maybe a little harder for her mother? She saw Jane die.”
“Jane isn’t dead,” I snapped.
Lacy gave me a look, one that told me not to get my hopes up.
I sighed, pinching my fingers around my forehead. I had a headache. Voices murmured their way up the stairs. I couldn’t make out what they were saying but I imagined they were speculating as to how Jane had—gone.
Who was I kidding? The best chance I had of getting over this was to say it—died.
Jane had died. She was dead. I knew no one wanted me to refer to it this way, but really, what other way was there to say it? As far as I was concerned, I would never interact with Jane again. Though Max could still see her, what did that do for me? I couldn’t see her, and as far as I was concerned, she was dead.
Dead.
But it felt silly. All this felt silly. A funeral? I realized her mother wanted to make this as traditional as possible for everyone who didn’t know about the family secret of magick. But still, she knew the truth, knew that Max was trying to bring her back. What if he did? What would she tell people then? That Jane just reappeared? I was still angry about what Jane’s mother, Sarah, had decided to do with Jane’s body. She gave it to the priory for safe keeping. Safe keeping? The whole idea gave me chills. Jake had promised me it would be fine. Apparently they replaced the blood in her veins with infected vampire blood in order to keep her preserved. But, doesn’t that make her a vampire? A chill ran down my spine. Just the thought of her body frozen in time like that made my stomach churn.
Oh, and did I mention that they’ve never done this before?
Never had they successfully brought a soul back from the Ever After. It’s just not possible—yet. At least that was the rumor around Winter Wood. But knowing Max’s stubborn demands, I guess they had to try. After all, they owed it to her. She’d been the only hope left against the Black Angels, perhaps even still, I’m not sure. I’m not really sure what happened in the first place.
In some ways I think keeping Jane suspended as she was gave the people of Winter Wood hope, even if Jane’s future had nothing to do with saving it anymore. Everyone was nervous right now, and without a better plan in place, this was it. We’d all heard the stories about the European priories. They’d been taken over by the Black Angels already. Just two weeks since Jane’s death and you’d think it was like opening a floodgate. Perhaps the thought of simply having Jane’s body made people think they’d never come here, but I wasn’t so naïve. It was only a matter of time before more Greg-like characters showed up in town. I wasn’t looking forward to it.
And what was it with this prophecy, anyway? I hadn’t even heard about it until after Jane died. If it were so important, why didn’t I know about it before and why hadn’t it worked? In my short familiarity with the history of prophecies, it seems that they’d always come to fruition. Why didn’t they better protect her? It was careless of the priory to let Jane wander on her own—with that Avery girl, nonetheless. I’m sure they knew what was happening—I figure they know everything. Perhaps they thought Max would do a better job. I almost couldn’t help but feel bitterness toward him for failing, but seeing him now, I knew he was punishing himself enough without me adding to it.
Lacy was leaning against the wall, staring at a picture across the hall. I wondered what she was thinking and if it were as complex as her look would suggest. I mimicked her, arms folded across my chest. I was just about to strike up a conversation when I heard Emily’s door open at last. A small sniffle escaped. I stood up straight, turning to peer in through the small opening.
“Are you okay?”
I saw Lacy shake her head out of the corner of my eye, annoyed with my obvious question. I ignored her.
Emily nodded.
I felt so hopeless. Her eyes were stained red as they’d been almost every morning for the past two weeks. “Are you ready?” I urged. I didn’t want to push her into this assuredly awkward situation but everyone w
as looking for her. Quite frankly, I had run out of excuses as to why she was hiding. At some point, though, she was going to have to face this—tomorrow was going to be her first day back at school.
Emily nodded again.
For the last two weeks she had been taking this the only way I figured she knew how, by shutting herself away from the world. She was hiding now as she had hid her abilities to hear thoughts all her life. I couldn’t imagine how excruciatingly truthful it was hearing all those same thoughts now, especially with the speculating I assumed was happening amongst the crowd downstairs. I knew if I were her, it would be really hard to stay sane, and that’s what scared me. The last thing I wanted was for Emily to dive into another tail spin of drugs just to forget it all. I’d attached myself to her side every moment for the last two weeks. Not hard to do when her mother was encouraging me. I guess she didn’t see the harm in it, and she was right. Emily was going to need constant support.
Emily slipped out of her room and stood before us, looking so frail. She was wearing a dark blue cotton dress but no shoes. Looking at her feet, she had one foot crossed over the other, toenail polish chipped as I’m sure it was the last of her worries. Her skin was white and her posture tired.
Despite Max’s promise to bring Jane back, I knew it had given Emily little comfort. It hadn’t done much to lift her mood. She never trusted Max much, if at all. She was happier to assume the worst than hope for the best, only to be crushed later when his promise didn’t come true. I had no choice but to be optimistic, even if in my heart I wasn’t. Emily didn’t need me being as negative as she was right now.
Lacy put her arm around Emily’s shoulders. “You’re going to be alright.”
I gave Lacy a look. Emily hated to hear that.
Emily looked at me with eyes that said she was okay with Lacy’s attempt at niceties. She was crunched under Lacy’s grip, but somehow she seemed to like it there. I was amazed.
I heard a creak on the stairs behind us. Emily’s gaze wandered past me, her pupils dilating. I turned, only to feel jealousy as I saw Jake standing at the bottom of the stairs. He was staring at Emily in a way that caused my teeth to grind together. From around the corner, as though it couldn’t get worse, Max arrived at his side. I saw Emily’s demeanor change to one of bitterness. She wouldn’t admit it, but I knew she was just as angry with Max as I was.
Max whispered something to Jake and Jake walked away, leaving Max waiting for us.
“Come on, Emily.” I took her hand and salvaged her from Lacy’s grip. I led her down the stairs toward Max.
Max’s eyes had changed considerably over the past few weeks, slowly draining of what little human life was left. Each day he appeared less and less alive to me, and more and more drone-like. He had buried himself in the task of fixing what had happened. In a way I had liked being near him at first—he’d had a sense of Jane still about him, but today, all that was gone. He was a stranger to me if not for the familiar outline of his stone-like face.
He nodded as we landed on the bottom floor, ushering us toward the living room as Lacy joined Max behind us. She whispered something to him but I missed what it was. Emily flashed me a look, knowing what Lacy said in ways I couldn’t. I just squeezed Emily’s hand more tightly, not sure what Lacy said but sensing enough from Emily’s annoyed scent that she was notifying Max about Emily’s ever changing mood.
The living room was a blur of familiar faces from school, friends from town, and clouds of human scent. I had learned to sniff out who was human and who wasn’t as my animal instincts continued to magnify with each passing minute—a pubescent state I was hoping would peak and subside soon. I smiled and tried to be polite, but in my mind I was making mental lists.
Mrs. Baker, the English teacher—human.
Mrs. Tuel, the librarian—not human, but we knew that already, in one way or another.
It took only seconds for me to categorize them, and often they would appear to be categorizing me as well. Magickal beings addressed me in a knowing manor, a bow or wink, implying they knew what I was in return. I guess I’d never looked at people as closely as I do now. Understanding the secret way about our community made me wonder how I never saw it before. For the most part humans maintained a highly ignorant bearing, passing through life with no idea of those that protect them. I saw why the priory took on this task. Humans were blissfully unaware of the world like a pet, living out their lives with little distress beyond making money to survive. Making money to survive was just the tip of the iceberg for us—life had suddenly lost a lot of its freedom.
Emily was swept away from me by a couple of old ladies. I was left standing against the wall with my hands in my pockets. To my dismay, Jake joined me.
“Max hasn’t found Avery.” He informed me, speaking low. He hid in my shadow to maintain his energy. Knowing he was a vampire made me notice how he’d always done this. It’s not that daylight hurt him, it just drained him of energy and made him annoyingly groggy. Preserving the energy he had admittedly made him more pleasant to be around, so to me I didn’t always mind his awkward nearness—other than the fact I disliked him.
“He’s not going to find her,” I reminded. “If she was easier to find, I’m sure he would have done it two weeks ago.”
Jake snorted. “Doubt that. What I understand is that Max didn’t know any of this was going to happen. I’m still trying to decide if I believe that or not. Either way, I would have thought the priory would keep him better informed.”
“That’s a joke,” I laughed low. “I think it’s all a conspiracy. There’s some manipulation of the truth going on, that’s for sure.”
Jake laughed sarcastically. “Still, I’m not surprised Max hadn’t tried to find Avery before all this. I mean, to him she was just an ex-girlfriend. You don’t typically suspect your ex to come back with the type of vengeance Avery did.”
My brow rose. “Are you sure about that? Seems pretty predictable to me. That stuff happens all the time.” But still, I had to agree with him a little. I let him know that with my open thoughts. It wasn’t Max’s job to keep tabs on his ex like Jake suggested. If I had to keep tabs on every girl I’d ever kissed, the job would be insurmountable.
Jake laughed. “You don’t have that many ex-girlfriends, Romeo.”
Allowing Jake a moment to roam my head sent a chill down my spine—he wasn’t shy about it. I growled at him before pushing him out and shutting off my thoughts.
With him out of my head, I thought more deeply. I didn’t like to admit to myself that I’d ever agree with Jake, but it was inevitable from time to time. My reasons for disliking him were obvious. I knew enough from the events a few weeks ago that Jake had a thing—correction—a huge thing for Emily. I wasn’t okay with the fact that he had been spending his nights watching her sleep from the chair in the corner of her room. I was still angry that I hadn’t caught onto that. How was it he could be so invisible to me? It only made me worry about what he was hiding now because I knew he was hiding something, he had to be.
Comparing myself with Jake, Jake seemed the better man, at least on paper. Perhaps I was being hard on myself. I wasn’t necessarily a good judge of who was going to best for Emily in the long run, I just hoped it was me. The one certainty I could count on was the fact that Jake would legally never be allowed to be with Emily. As a vampire, he was forbidden. His kind was a life saver in that respect—their leaders forbade outside unions for fear of spreading the fever further than necessary.
Still, I couldn’t trust that Jake wasn’t the type that would break the rules for love—especially when it was for Emily. I let this last thought out so he could hear it.
Jake shrugged, hearing it as I hoped he would.
I wasn’t ashamed of that.
“I promise I’m going to stay away from her, Wes. I told you that.”
I laughed sarcastically. “Yeah, but it’s not necessarily you I’m worried about.” I looked across the room at Emily who was nodding at whatev
er the old ladies were telling her. “I know her enough to understand how unstable she is.” I looked Jake in the eyes again, eyes obscured behind his anti-reflective glasses in order to hide the nocturnal nature of his metallic gaze. “Just promise me, if you can, right here and now that you’ll deny her if she ever . . .” I allowed my voice to trail. He knew what I meant.
Jake nodded. “I promise not to give in. It’ll be hard. I won’t lie.”
I glared at him.
Jake looked amused. “But I won’t give in.”
And I had to believe him. If there was one thing I’d learned about vampires over the past few weeks it was the fact that they were brutally, almost compulsively honest. Perhaps it was the fever, but they could not be bothered to lie. However, they were experts at avoiding the truth in such a way that would never classify as a lie, too. You just had to know how to tell the difference, and watch for the loopholes in a promise.
“I know enough about Emily to watch for the signs, Wes. Besides, I’m afraid of what Max would do to me, not to mention what my own kind would do to me—they don’t like me much as it is.” His eyes behind his glasses got big. “They don’t like that I choose to attend a human high school, therefore denying my real race.”
Max approached from the other room. “I’m headed out.”
“Did you get a lead?” I could see the urgency in his eyes, one of the only emotions I still could see from him anymore. Everything was urgent now, it seemed.
He’d already turned to leave, but paused and looked over his shoulder. “Not on Avery, but my brother. I’ve been waiting to feel something from his end. It’s complicated. I’ll keep you posted.”
I felt a rush of anticipation trickle down my spine. “Let me know if I can help.”
“Me too,” Jake added with determination.
I glared at Jake, angry that he’d copied my declaration of assistance. “There’s no need for you to do this on your own, Max,” I added. “Besides, we work well as a team.” I looked for some flicker of gratitude behind Max’s dark eyes, but none came.