Flicker

  Elise lost track of how long she'd been playing, letting her music guide her through her new experiences as she separated the information she'd received from her emotions on the subject. After a while, however, prickling tension in her shoulders and neck told her she was being watched. She glanced up, pausing, and saw her mother standing in the kitchen doorway.

  “This boy really affects you, doesn't he?” Marie asked quietly, her tone somber.

  Without a word, dreading another argument, Elise nodded. From across the room, she heard her mother sigh.

  “Do you feel safe with him? Does he make you happy?” Her mother asked casually, but Elise could tell she was only feigning disinterest-- she practically hummed with tension. Still, Elise appreciated her attempt at calm.

  She shrugged. “I don't know if I'll ever feel safe, really, with anyone. But it feels nice to have a friend. I'm not sure if we are anything else, and even if I do want to be-- I don't know yet-- I'm not sure I know how. But,” she lifted her hands, gesturing vaguely as she tried to express something for which she had no words. “I don't feel like he'll hurt me on purpose. Everyone hurts each other, that's part of life. But I don't think he means me any harm.”

  Her mother nodded slowly, sadly. “You had to grow up too fast,” she said, so softly that Elise barely heard her. Before she had a chance to respond, Marie straightened up. “I'm making egg salad for lunch, if you want any,” she said briskly, turning on her heel and walking back into the kitchen.

  Elise blinked after her mother, surprised by the exchange. Belatedly, she remembered Alex telling her, just yesterday, that both of her parents were latent vampires. From what she understood of his explanation, maybe that meant that as she was more willing to let people-- including them-- back into her life, they would be better able to comprehend how she really felt. Perhaps that made at least her mother more willing to empathize. Elise supposed anything was possible.

  With a slight smile, she closed the lid over the piano keys and went to have lunch with her mom. She even managed not to think too much about Alex for of the rest of the day-- at least, until she curled up in bed that night and abruptly wished he was there to hold her.

  For the first time in years, Elise woke on Monday morning truly eager to go to school. She dressed with care, but hurriedly, and barely paused to eat breakfast before rushing out the door. She knew it was silly, but the excited fluttering in her stomach had her half convinced that if she moved faster, eighth period would arrive more quickly.

  She did, however, slow down as she walked through the park. Mindful of Alex's remarks about spiritual starvation, she thought it might be prudent to give herself as much time surrounded by nature as possible. Her rational mind questioned the things he'd told her-- it did all seem rather remarkable-- but she couldn't deny that much of his revelation rang true in some deep part of her being. With all that in mind, she admitted to a burning curiosity about the abilities he'd told her she could develop. Whether there was something to this whole vampire thing or not, after a few minutes of strolling slowly under the trees, Elise left the park feeling centered and steady. As soon as she got to school, however, she noticed that something was different.

  At first, she just thought it was her mindset. After all, she'd had a very trying weekend even without the possibility of life-altering revelations about the world and her place in it. She hadn't told her story to anyone since her family had moved to Willowdale, and that in itself would be enough to make her feel different, to make her feel like everyone would be looking at her.

  But she wasn't even five minutes into homeroom when she had to admit it: everyone really was looking at her.

  It wasn't her imagination: her classmates, even her teacher, were literally turning in their seats to see her-- and not just lingering glances, either. A boy who sat a few desks to her right didn't seem to have blinked in at least a minute. This wasn't like when she'd first moved here, and people had looked curiously because she was new and different and they hadn't seen her before. Now, they stared like she was a banquet, and they were starving.

  The bell rang for first period, and Elise jumped. Miss Carmine, her homeroom teacher, also taught her first period physics class, so she didn't need to move. Instead, she tried not to watch her classmates dazedly gather their things as they continued to stare at her. They were more furtive now, having been reminded of the outside world, but all the same, they continued. And as they walked out the door, the students in her physics class entered, every one of them glancing at her as well. She shrank down in her seat, wishing desperately that she was invisible.

  What is going on? She thought frantically. This couldn't have something to do with-- and then she realized.

  Alex.

  He must have told them.

  She knew how quickly gossip and rumors could spread, especially when they were this scandalous. She clenched her fists and bit down on her lip until she tasted blood, but it didn't help. She'd finally opened up and trusted someone, and this was what came from it. Without pausing to think, her eyes brimming with tears, she jumped up, nearly knocking over her desk, and sprinted from the room. She could hear Miss Carmine calling her back, could hear the bubble of excited conversation that broke out at her abrupt departure, but she didn't care. Tears spilling freely down her cheeks, Elise dashed out the door and ran for her sanity.

  Knock knock knock. Alexander tried to wait patiently, but it took more willpower than he was proud of to keep from pacing until Marie opened the door.

  “What do you want?” She demanded, and he could tell she was trying not to be openly hostile.

  “I'm looking for Elise.” He spoke calmly, soothing her with barely a thought.

  “She... she isn't here,” she said hesitantly, her panic barely smothered by his influence. He frowned, concentrating a little harder on her mind. She was stronger than he'd expected, but he expended the effort-- he needed this woman rational. “Come in, please.” She stood back so he could enter, closing the door firmly behind him. “The school called and said she ran out during first period, which is completely unlike her, but then they said she left early last Wednesday, too. And we thought she would be at home, but she isn't here!” Her voice rose, the composure Alexander projected into her fraying as her hysteria peeked through.

  “Who's there?” Robert boomed from the kitchen, hearing his wife's tone. Without waiting for an answer, he burst into the foyer. “Oh, it's you, is it?” Unlike Marie, he clearly had no qualms about being hostile.

  “Where is Elise?” Alexander demanded, matching his tone.

  “How dare you come into my home and speak to me that way?” Robert thundered, he chest puffing and his face purpling. But it was Marie who broke.

  “This is your fault, you horrible boy!” She shrieked, grabbing Alexander's shoulder and trying to shove him. He shrugged her off in disgust, but she continued to rave. “She was fine, everything was good, we were all happy here, and then you had to come along and drag up the past and make her miserable again. This is all your doing! You've ruined her and you've ruined our family!”

  “That. Is. Enough.” Alexander's voice was ice. Every word was a shard of glass, a piece of shrapnel that he drove deep into their minds. “You small, petty fools. You have the capacity to see your daughter, truly see her, and you've chosen selfish ignorance instead. Elise was not happy. She hasn't been happy since she was attacked. And this whole time, you've blamed her for what happened to her.”

  Marie opened her mouth, but when he took a fierce step toward her, she retreated so quickly she slammed her back against the wall. Alexander knew his eyes were black with fury as he turned to Robert, hissing into his face. “Understand this: I will find Elise. I will heal all the damage that's been done to her, both by those animals you brought her here to hide from, and by the two of you. She will laugh again, really laugh, and she will learn how to trust and to love. And when that happens, and you are forced to confront the reality that you kept her living in a hell of lie
s and blame for the last three years, you will thank me.” Alexander spat the words, his voice deadly and his entire body shaking with rage and disdain. Leaving Robert pale and sweating, turning his back on Marie's silent tears, he stormed from the house.

  It took him several blocks of walking before he calmed down; even once he could no longer feel his pulse pounding in his temples, the black cloud of their fear and hatred clung to him, their energy a disgusting weight he couldn't shake off.

  Alexander stopped outside a cafe on Main Street, drawing in a deep breath and with it the faint taste of the patrons who happily chattered away inside. This was one of the reasons he hated small towns: there was barely enough food here to sate him. After his many centuries of amassing power, it took the throbbing life of a packed nightclub, all those people crammed together in a desperate, screaming search for something to free them from the drudgery of their lives, to truly satisfy his appetite. Or, he reflected, apparently it just took an afternoon with Elise.

  He sighed, massaging his aching head as he leaned for a moment against the side of the building. Obviously, her parents would be no help-- it had been clear enough that they had no idea where she was. He'd already spent the better portion of the day kicking himself-- as soon as he'd realized, at the change to second period, that she wasn't in the school, he had grasped what must have happened.

  Usually, Alexander could feel at least a hint of Elise throughout the day-- in fact, his awareness had been growing with every day they spent time together. Today, however, the school had been in an unusual state of unrest, and it had distracted him; by the time he had traced it back to Elise, she was already gone. He had never dealt with an untrained omnivore before, and it was painfully obvious to him now that she wouldn't be like the other latents he had taught. In this matter, it seemed her deliberate shielding up until this point had truly kept her classmates from registering her presence in any meaningful way. However, when he had opened her up on Saturday, it had clearly left her open to the other students in the school as well, and they would feel the pull of her power immediately. He squeezed his eyes shut, dropping his head back hard against the brick wall of the cafe. Alexander could vividly imagine, especially after the way his food had reacted to her last week in lunch, exactly what Elise's classmates would have done upon really noticing her for the first time. She must have been so afraid, and he was a fool for leaving her alone. He clenched his fists, reaching out for her once again as he'd done countless times already today. He had to find her.

  Alexander ground his teeth, frustrated-- he had no sensation of her at all; it was as if she'd just ceased to exist. He pushed away from the wall, striding down the sidewalk as the streetlights came on and a light drizzle began to fall. He knew she had to be out there somewhere-- she was just shielding as tightly as possible. He'd felt her shield like this before, whenever she'd gotten too close to losing her tight grip on her emotions; it was an inexpert solution, but effective. He was willing to hazard a guess that it was particularly effective at the moment, far more so than usual, because she would be wishing more fervently than ever to disappear.

  It tore at him, to track her like this when she so clearly craved solitude. He wanted nothing more than to respect her wishes, but he couldn't-- not when it was his fault, and not when there was something he could do to help her. He could teach her, as he'd taught others, to control her power and the effect it had on those around her; that she was more potent than anyone he'd ever trained changed nothing except how careful they would have to be.

  Not to mention, it was entirely possible that she was hurt somewhere, still too distraught and afraid to open herself up and let him find her. His imagination painted him a vivid picture of Elise, bloody and tearful, lost in the woods somewhere.

  The woods-- of course! How could he have been so stupid? He'd been thinking like a carnivore, but she had lived as an herbivore for years-- of course she would fall back to her sanctuary. He stopped walking and closed his eyes, relaxing his grip on his mind and picturing a forest in the evening rain. Softly, gently, he reached out, steeping himself in the sounds and smells of nature, searching for her among the moss and leaves. He had never tried this before, but in his brief exchanges with Elise in the park and the garden, he had gotten a taste of how an herbivore's power felt.

  Alexander's mind crept like mist along a riverbank, feeling its way over water-smoothed stones and fallen branches, around trees and beneath ferns. He tasted something that reminded him of flowers, of rain, and of-- he doubled over, gasping, as a sharp pain shot through his gut. Agony twisted him, guilt and grief and rage.

  Betrayed. She'd been betrayed.

  Alexander jerked himself free, stumbling and nearly falling to his knees on the sidewalk. Leaning against the solid pole of a streetlamp and dismissing the strange looks he was getting from an elderly couple walking past, he gasped for breath, his heart racing. He swallowed hard a few times, trying to settle the nausea that rolled through him, but that was all the time he was willing to waste. Pushing himself upright and ignoring the residual pain from his brush with Elise's mind, he set off at a jog for the river at the edge of town.

  More than an hour later, Alexander stopped again, frustration gnawing at his composure as he was forced to admit that he had no idea where to go now. He'd reached the river quickly and followed it out of the suburbs, channeling energy into his circulatory and respiratory functions to speed his progress as paved roads had given way to dirt paths and undergrowth. But shortly after he'd left all traces of civilization behind, the trail had gone cold-- Alexander could no longer feel the pull of Elise's mind.

  He growled, slamming his palm against a tree hard enough to send a shiver up to its crown. Nine hundred years he'd walked this earth, fought wars as a soldier, stalked marks as a mercenary, hunted food for both his body and his mind, and now he couldn't find one little girl. Letting out a tight breath, he relaxed his mind again, forcing himself to be calm, and reached out for her. Nothing. No matter how perfectly he pictured mist or moss or water, he couldn't sense her.

  Shaking his head, he kept walking. He knew now for sure that she was out here, and she would probably have followed the river. All he had to do was have patience, and he would likely find her before the night was out. As he went, he lightened his footsteps, scanning the ground for any tracks and listening intently to the sounds of the forest as evening deepened; if he couldn't rely on his power, he would just have to use the rest of his senses. It had been many years since he'd foraged through the woods, but that didn't mean he'd forgotten the skill.

  Alexander passed animal tracks-- squirrels, birds, raccoons, rabbits, and even deer-- but ignored them all. The increasingly heavy rain didn't help matters; he walked for over an hour more before he found what he was looking for: a human print in the muddy riverbank. Immediately, he froze, crouching down in one fluid motion to look closer. Yes, he was correct-- it was a bare footprint, small enough to be hers, and judging by the way the mud was dented and swirled around it, she'd fallen here and forced herself back to her feet. He placed his fingertips into the indent in the soft ground and relaxed his mind again, reaching tenderly for any trace of her.

  There were tears on the ground here: she'd been crying when she fell. He could smell the salt, could taste her despair, could--

  His gut twisted again, sorrow and regret and shame burning through him. She was shivering violently, freezing and alone, her tears spent but her mind raging. Her past was afire, her future empty nothingness, and the river below her cold and inviting.

  Wrenching himself back to feet he barely remembered he had, Alexander ran.

  He didn't need tracks now, but they were there anyway, guiding him through the dark woods. He knew better than to call out to her, and in fact had the forethought to mask his presence and quiet his footfalls as he drew closer to where he knew she'd be. She didn't want to be found, and his crashing up on her might drive her to recklessness.

  With that in mind, he slowed before
he got close enough to see her. Dashing silently through the underbrush, he left the river and circled around a large outcropping of rock at its edge.

  And then, quite suddenly, there she was. On the other side of the rushing water, an embankment rose steeply, its face marred by the yawning mouth of a large, rusting drainpipe. Huddled in the opening was Elise.

  Her feet were bare, her skirts were matted with mud, her shirt was wet and dirty and plastered to her skin, and her hair was soaked and wild. She was curled like a child, her knees drawn up to her chest and her back pressed against the hard, cold wall of the pipe like she was hiding from a monster. Her eyes had been fixed on the river below her, but as soon as Alexander looked at her, her gaze snapped up and focused on him.

  They stared at one another for just a moment, each taking in the other, and then abruptly she looked away. “Leave me alone.” He barely heard her broken voice above the sound of the water-- but he did, and his heart clenched. He could have-- should have-- protected her from this.

  “Elise, please listen,” he began, slowly making his way toward the river. “This wasn't your fault.”

  Even from this distance, Alexander saw her ashen skin flush. She whirled, bracing her arms against either side of the tunnel and letting her feet hang from the mouth, everything about her suddenly screaming her fury. “My fault? Of course it's my fault! I should have known better! I never should have trusted you!”

  He actually stumbled back a step, stunned by her sudden rage as much as he was pushed by the force behind it. Breathing deliberately to suppress his instinct to meet her anger with his own, he called back. “I'm so sorry; I know I never should have left you alone. Please come down-- I can help you! I can teach you to control it.”