NEWBORN: Book One of the Newborn Trilogy

by Shayn Bloom

  “Can I call you my wizard?”

  Gabriel starts in surprise. “What?”

  “I’m tired of calling you ‘my wizard friend’,” I admit, blushing against the bedspread. “Now that we’ve – you know – I should be able to call you my wizard!”

  “I’ve never, ever heard you call me ‘your wizard friend’,” Gabriel says. “But sure. Call me your wizard, your boyfriend, your lover, your giver of all things. Anything so long as I get to keep fucking you!”

  I giggle helplessly. “You’re such a romantic, Gabriel. You’re also my wizard!”

  Splotches of red color the periphery of my vision. Looking down for the first time since coming, I gasp still air. Blood peppers Gabriel’s midsection. It’s splattered across his legs and coloring his cock. Propping myself up, I look down. My whole groin is covered in it. How didn’t I notice?

  Gabriel is watching me. “Don’t worry about that,” he says calmly, “It’s normal for a virgin. It won’t always happen.”

  I’m alarmed and confused. “But – but I don’t understand! I didn’t feel any pain. It was all good… all pleasure.”

  “I said don’t worry about it,” Gabriel repeats, looking distressed. “Are you hungry?”

  My thoughts are everywhere. “Yes, strangely.”

  “You look thin, Nora,” Gabriel says, his tone chastising. “Unhealthily so. You need to eat more. Have you been eating?”

  To lie or not to lie? To lie. “Yes,” I tell him.

  “I’m not so sure,” he says flatly. “Either way, eat more and more often. Understand?” Who the fuck does he think he is? As I open my mouth to tell him off, he opens his. “We’re not arguing about this! I don’t know if it’s anorexia or not, but I’d rather you be healthy than thin. Tell me you understand that.”

  “I –” I begin.

  “Tell me!”

  “Okay, okay! I understand!”

  Holy bejusus fuck!

  What is with everybody lately? Still, I don’t want to argue about it. So I’m going to change the subject. “Gabriel, earlier you said I know you better than anybody. Did you mean that?” To my surprise, I’m actually interested to hear the answer to my distraction question. Who’d of thought?

  He nods once, turquoise eyes searching mine. “Yes I did, Nora. If you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit of a loner.”

  “I noticed,” I remark. “It – well – I thought it was a strong opinion.”

  He doesn’t blink. “It is.”

  It’s time. I can’t go too long without saying it. There is a shelf life for this type of response, unfortunately. Because I would have liked more time. Oh well. Here goes nothing, as they say.

  “You know I love you, Gabriel.” Swiping my hair behind my ear as I say this, I refuse to break his unrelenting eye contact. I need to look as appealing as possible in this moment. “Do you love me?”

  He swipes his blond hair to the side of his forehead. “You know I do,” he says to me. “I told you. Did you forget?”

  “I mean for – like – always. I want you to say you’ll never stop loving me, Gabriel. I want to hear it.”

  Calm the fuck down you needy cunt, says my alter ego. You’re going to ruin everythin g!

  You’re the only thing that needs ruining! I yell back.

  “I will never stop loving you, Nora Saynt-Rae,” Gabriel promises. “Never ever! For as long as we live, I will be yours and you will be mine. Till the seas have claimed the lands and the skies have claimed the seas and the sun has claimed the skies, I will be your man! There,” he finishes, “how was that?”

  “Brilliant,” I answer. “Insanely brilliant, actually. Almost overdid it but not quite. Well done. You are magical on occasion, Gabriel.”

  “I don’t care for your indictments.”

  “Nor I for your vampire vendettas,” I inform him.

  We stare at each, neither surrendering. I surrender. “But,” I tell him prophetically, “I fear our love will not stand the test of time. The Puridites will come for us and rip us to pieces. Perhaps not just our relationship but our bodies as well. The clock has started ticking. They are coming for us.”

  Gabriel narrows his eyes. “When did you become so versed in these matters?”

  “I’m repeating what you told me,” I say. “You said they keep a look out for when wizards and Immags are fraternizing. Disobeying their laws. We’ve done it. The deed. They can tell, can’t they?”

  A long pause. “Yes,” he responds.

  I stare at him, panic rising inside me. I didn’t mean all that. Didn’t mean any of it. I was joking – being theatrical. I didn’t think they’d actually come. Didn’t think they’d be able to tell as soon as we had sex. Fucking fuck! This is worse than I imagined. I am – we are – going to pay for this!

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I yell. I fling myself from his arms. “Gabriel, how could you! You kept it secret from me!”

  “That wasn’t my intention!”

  I remind him, “Well, you did! Now we’re both dead!”

  He swipes blond hair to the side of his forehead. “We’re not both dead,” he says, sounding exasperated. “Relax, Nora! You’re giving them way too much credit. And me too little,” he adds sourly.

  I’m pacing up and down the center of the small room, my thoughts on my tongue. “They’ll come for us! They’ll know everything by the time they get here. They’ll kill you and curse me. My life is over!” I’m feeling this truth for the first time. “My parents will be so mad at me!”

  “You’re mental.”

  I turn on him. “Mental! You’re the one who got us into this! Get us out!”

  I’m astonished to see a smile playing about his features. He’d be twirling his wand in his fingers if he had it, I know. “That is my plan,” he reassures me, “to get us out of this! Nora, you’re underestimating the magical skill and talent required to become a Releaser at the Bureau of Beast Control. I’m not an average wizard. Far above it. I thought you would have figured that out.”

  He doesn’t get this victory long. “Who will come for us?” I snap, knowing the dreaded answer to my question.

  “Releasers from the Bureau of Beast Control,” he answers, turquoise eyes bright with anticipation. “Why do you ask?”

  Geez, he likes to bait me, doesn’t he?

  “Listen, Nora,” he continues, his smile slipping, “The Bureau has been infuriating me. They’ve basically left me out here to rot. They ignore my messages and assume I’ve given up trying to find the Newborn after giving me a broken Vampass… in any case, I don’t agree with the Puridite Party’s line on wizard and Immag relations. If I’m going to indict myself in protest, it’s going to be on that issue.”

  None of this makes me feel better. “So it’s political? You’ve endangered us because of your issues with the Puridites?”

  He appears surprised. “Yes. I – I thought you’d approve, Nora. I’m making a stand for what I believe in. What I believe is people like you and me should be able to enter into relations if we so desire. Should be able to have sex if we desire. Should be able to marry if we desire! That’s what I believe! How about you, Nora? What do you believe?”

  Stopping my pacing, I take a deep breath. “Sorry for my outburst. I’m feeling kind of high-strung.”

  He nods. “I can tell. I think you need to eat. Your poor diet isn’t contributing to your reasoning skills.”

  The nerve! How dare he criticize me like that!

  “Stop telling me to eat! It’s annoying, Gabriel!”

  He’s scanning me perceptively. “I’ve touched a nerve.”

  “Undeniably!” I shoot. Was that a good comeback? I’m not sure. I didn’t think before saying it. “Let’s get along! I’m tired of fighting. Don’t criticize me and I’ll try not to question you. Deal?”

  “Deal,” he responds. Standing up, he comes to me and soaks me in the sugar of his kiss. He breaks from me. “Let’s get a shower,” he suggests. “Also, you may want to replace you
r roommate’s comforter.”

  What on earth is he talking about?

  I look at it. Oh… right. It’s splattered with blood. Geez, how did I not feel that? It looks like it hurt. Yet it didn’t. I can’t begin to explain it. “Okay, I will,” I tell him. I’m trying not to appear overly surprised.

  * * *

  Gabriel and I take a long shower together. I’ve never taken a shower with anyone. I enjoy myself cleaning him and I hope he enjoys cleaning me. Though judging from the expression on his face while I lather soap onto a particular part of his body, he’s enjoying it. Like, a lot.

  Clean and dry, we go back to my room. Geez, it’s nice not having to worry about Kiri. I can dress without eyes on me. Well, this isn’t the best moment to illustrate that. Pulling on clean jeans and a fresh bra, I feel cold. The warmth of the sheets and shower gone, I realize how cold it is in my room.

  Gabriel is watching me. “Here, put this on.”

  My turtleneck. “I’m not sure that will be warm enough,” I say, searching around for my jacket. It’s on my bed. Looking back, I see Gabriel’s eyebrows nearly disappear into his hair. “Oh, right!” I gasp.

  You’re precious, my alter ego tells me.

  Go fuck yourself, I tell her.

  Pulling the turtleneck over my head, I instantly feel comfortable. My body is the perfect temperature. “Does the charm last forever?”

  “Not exactly,” he answers. “A form of it will last for a long period, but it will lose strength over time. It will take a few years before it’s just a turtleneck. Not a magical turtleneck. Anyway, how about food?”

  I’m marveling at my newfound comfort. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Of course you’re not!” Sitting on my bed, he pulls his T-shirt and jeans back on before covering them with tangerine robes. “I’m going back to the forest. Food first. Sure you don’t want to come with?”

  Stretching beneath my bed, my fingers grasp his wand and I retrieve it into daylight. Laying it on my palm, I offer it to him like a great and noble sword. He eyes me deprecatingly before taking it.

  “For your ‘reconnaissance work’,” I explain, fleshing my tone with doubt, “go forth and reconnaissance!”

  Gabriel scowls, swiping his blond hair to the side of his forehead. “I’m trying to find the Newborn,” he reiterates. “It’s coming terribly slowly. When I discover more, I will take you to the coven’s lair.”

  “You promise?”

  Pocketing his wand in his tangerine robes, he takes my hands in his and lowers them. Then he kisses me. A fantastical, lingering kiss that drenches my consciousness in the majesty of his promise.

  * * *

  I’m walking back to my dorm after an exhaustibly boring session of English 103: English Composition, when something unimaginable happens. Mom calls me. I stare at the name stenciled across the screen.

  I can’t believe it.

  Mom hasn’t called in over two months. Actually, she hasn’t contacted me since dropping me off. So much for her tears. But now she is. Calling out of the blue. I can’t get a grip on it. Trying to shrug off my already mounting dissonance, I answer my phone. “Hi, Mom,” I say, trying to sound casual.

  “Nora!” Surprise is the emotion I detect in her voice. Did she think I wouldn’t answer? She’s my mom. “I’m so glad to have gotten hold of you! I was worried you wouldn’t answer!” So much for that.

  Halfway across Red Square, I find the nearest wrought-iron bench and sit. “I’m here, Mom. What do you want?”

  “You, of course!” she exclaims. “Sweetie, I’m almost to Evergreen. I thought we could do lunch. Are you free, honey?”

  I gaze around wildly as though searching for eavesdroppers. I have half a mind to lie and say I have class. I can’t deny it. I’m upset about how she treated Dad. About how she found a boyfriend and moved in with him out of spite. But I can’t lie to my mother. So I say, “No, Mom. I’m free.”

  “Perfect!” Mom whoops. “I’ll be driving up to Red Square soon. Do you know where that is, sweetie?”

  I dearly want to twist my phone in my hands until it breaks. I fight off this impulse. “Yes – I’m there now.”

  A gasp of excitement. “Excellent! Perfect! I’ll be there in five minutes. Bye.” She hangs up on me.

  Astonished, I stare at my phone. Disbelieving. First she ignores me for two months. Then she calls out of the blue and wants to hang out. No warning. Now she hangs up on me. Our connection has been refurbished for a whole minute and already I want to scream. Instead, I take several deep breaths.

  Twenty minutes later I see her Toyota Matrix pull around the horseshoe shaped road at the base of Red Square. Getting up, my weightless backpack in tow over my shoulder, I walk to her car.

  It’s a windy November day. I’m glad to be wearing my charmed turtleneck. I feel fine. Well, temperature wise, at least.

  “Darling!” Mom coos through the open window. “Get in, get in!”

  I’m relieved to find her alone. Waving half heartedly, I toss my backpack in the backseat before climbing in beside her. Hugging me tightly, she kisses me on the cheek. She’s drenched in Chanel’s Chance. Mom – the only person in the universe who wears more perfume than I do. Lord help us.

  “You must be cold!” Mom says loudly, her grey eyes falling over my turtleneck. “Where’s your jacket?”

  “Oh, it’s fine,” I say, waving her away. What am I supposed to say? That my wizard boyfriend charmed my clothes? Get fucking real. “Really, it’s fine! I’m comfortable,” I reiterate hotly.

  “Well, if you say so,” she says.

  “I do.”

  She glances at me with curiosity before letting it go for now. “So!” she exclaims, clapping her hands together. “You know the area better than me! Where should we have lunch? You can show me the haunts!”

  She’s having too much fun. I’m about to tell her I don’t eat and have no idea where to go when an idea strikes me. Sweet! “I know a place. Follow my directions and I’ll get us there.”

  “Sounds like a plan!” She’s effortlessly enthusiastic. “I’m so glad we could do this, Nora Saynt! So glad you didn’t have class or something. How are your classes, by the way?” Mom asks in passing.

  I gesture for her to drive around the horseshoe and onto the main road. “They’re fine,” I say carelessly. “Three English. One History. Looking like A’s and B’s. Probably more B’s than A’s.”

  Mom turns right, following my direction. “Three English! So many English classes, my little saint! Why so many?”

  I stare in utter disbelief. A new low. “I’m an English major, Mom,” I tell her, deadpan. “Remember? I want to be a writer.”

  She frowns. “Oh,” she says, “That’s right!”

  * * *

  Mom looks up at the hanging sign. “The Mousetrap?”

  “We’re here!” I exclaim excitedly. I know she’ll hate it. I can’t wait! “Come on!” I lead her inside. It’s surprisingly full for mid afternoon on a Monday. Maybe that’s why it’s surprisingly full.

  Mom looks around in disgust. “A dive bar? Seriously, Nora Saynt?”

  “It’s great!” I remark, “They don’t check I.D.”

  Without waiting for her approval, I dart to a table at the back and sit down. She has to follow me back. No complaints, no grievances. If she’s not going to try to be a mother, I’m not going to try to be a daughter. She comes slowly, as she’s busy feeling superior to her surroundings. It’s a full time job.

  I jump up as soon as she sits. “Want a drink?”

  “A Coke will be fine,” she answers. I start for the bar. “Nora!” I spin around. “Diet Coke, please.” Sighing, I turn back. “Oh, Nora Saynt!” Her voice is now singsong. Fighting the urge to ignore her, I turn again. “Get a lunch menu, honey.”

  A couple minutes later I’m back from the bar. A Coke for her. A gin and tonic for me. Mom eyes my beverage, her brow furrowing at the fizzing liquid and the toy umbrella. “Sweetie, is that alcohol?�
��

  “Yes,” I reply. Why shouldn’t I drink? You’re here, after all. Geez, there’s so many things I want to say to her. I didn’t realize until she showed up how mad I am at her. For what she’s done to Dad. For what she’s done to me. And for what she hasn’t done for me. Like called, for instance.

  “I don’t think you should be drinking in the afternoon during the week,” Mom tells me.

  So now she’s a parent? Who’d have thought? “It’s not a problem,” I say, discarding her opinion at once. “I’m taking the night off from schoolwork.” I’m already realizing I’ll be too mad later to study. Geez, I am furious. I need to distract myself from my anger. “Anyway, how are your students?”

  “Wonderful!” Mom exclaims, elated by her favorite subject. “Fantastic, Nora Saynt! I’ve got this one girl in my class – oh – I love her! She’s reading Tolstoy. Tolstoy, Nora! She’s ten years old. Imagine it!”

  “I really can’t,” I respond. Small talk isn’t working.

  Mom asks, “Where’s the menu?”

  I try hard not to smile. “There isn’t one,” I tell her. “The Mousetrap is a dive bar. If you want to go ask the bartender they may have chips. Maybe pretzels – I’m not sure. You’ll have to ask them.”

  Mom’s expression is impermeable. “I’m hungry, Nora Saynt. I drove all the way from Baring to see you. All I had this morning was coffee and yogurt.”

  The word ‘yogurt’ stirs my stomach unpleasantly. Honestly, it was more out of self interest than spite I took us here. True, I wanted to make Mom uncomfortable. I also knew I wouldn’t be able to keep anything down. Knowing her, she’d force me to eat. Right in front of her. No excuses.

  Mom says, “Why don’t we finish our drinks and go somewhere with food.”

  “No,” I tell her. “I don’t want to.”

  “Nora!” Mom exclaims. “What’s with you today? I make a special trip to see you and you won’t let me eat. You’re being rude!”