by Jan Dockter
Peter roughly kissed her, pushing her against the wall hard. She had nowhere to go but towards him, her body melting against his as their bodies entwined. He could sense the thrill that she felt knowing that they would soon be closer they ever had before. Peter could almost taste the desire on her tongue. Her thoughts and emotions flooded his brain, the love she felt for him and the electricity of her attraction. He could tell Ashe had been waiting so long for this moment. It was up to him to make the leap, though there was a chance he could hurt her in the fall. But at the moment none of this mattered. He only wanted Ashe.
Then an image swam up from the depths of Ashe’s consciousness, of a tall, blonde man smiling at her. Will.
Peter pushed away from Ashe in surprise. The image disappeared immediately leaving only blackness. He barely registered the look of hurt on her face as he turned away without explanation. Why would she think of him, a practical stranger, in such a moment like this? Ashe loved Peter, didn’t she? There were no words to describe the pain Peter had felt at seeing the man’s face in Ashe’s thoughts.
“Is something wrong?” Ashe asked as Peter tried to control the rage growing inside him.
“I made a mistake,” Peter replied.
Ashe put her hand on Peter’s back but he shrugged it off. “If you’re worried about hurting me...” she started.
Peter kept his back turned to her. “It’s not that simple.”
“Then let’s talk about it.”
Peter didn't think there was anything for them to talk about. He looked into Ashe’s thoughts and been surprised by what he had found there. If Ashe knew he could invade her privacy at will like that, it would no doubt tear an irreparable wound in their trust. It wasn’t so long ago that he had reassured her that he couldn’t read her thoughts. He hated that this was happening now, of all times. It was quite true that ignorance was bliss.
“I’m hungry. I’m going out,” Peter said pocketing his keys. He left the house abruptly and headed straight for the woods. He would hunt for a few hours and come back with a clear head. In the state he was in now, his words would only lead to fighting.
The ground was soft from spring rains and the trees were showing the first green of the year. The weather was still overcast enough for Peter to feel safe going out during the day. Summer would not be so carefree. He wondered if he and Ashe would still be here in the summer, or if the past would have caught up to them by then and they would be on the run. Or worse, dead.
Peter clenched his fists. It did no good to entertain such black thoughts. He turned his attention on his surroundings and soon honed in on a rabbit trail off to his left. A rabbit would be a good challenge for him after a long time away from hunting in the wild. The fresh blood would do him good.
He tried to focus on the task at hand, but his mind still worked over what had happened at the house. Peter had no real reason to feel the jealousy that he did. The human brain was not a perfect machine. Thoughts wandered. Peter knew that Ashe loved him, but being in love didn’t mean that one didn’t have eyes. Peter could admit that Will was good looking and it would have been impossible for Ashe not to notice this fact. It could have been a fluke that she had thought about Will at the moment she had. Even as Peter told himself this, he felt the jealousy bubbling back up.
What he should have been worried about was the sudden ability to read Ashe’s thoughts and emotions, not just the messages that she projected to him willingly. His telepathic ability should not have been developing so rapidly. He would have to keep an eye on anything else out of the ordinary. If things got bad enough, he would have to call someone with more knowledge of such things that could help him. It would be a risk to reach out to other vampires, as any contact could be picked up by those trying to find him. But if he had to, he would do it. Peter couldn’t let himself become a risk to Ashe.
There was a crackle of branches in the brush ahead. Peter stilled. The scent of warm animal blood wafted towards him on the breeze. He waited for the creature to bolt but it didn’t. It didn’t seem to know that it was being stalked. Peter crept soundlessly forward and stopped a short distance away. A small brown wood hare poked its head out from the bushes, its nose twitching below two glossy black eyes. It seemed to regard Peter with curiosity and he could sense no fear coming from it. The hare hopped a little further out towards him and stopped at a clump of maple seedlings that had sprouted up out of the forest floor. It nibbled at the soft green leaves unaware of the danger only feet away.
For a short time, Peter just watched the hare. He wanted to give it time to enjoy the last moments of its life. Those maple leaves would be the last thing it ever tasted. Peter had never been given a last meal. He had always needed blood ever since he first emerged into the world over a hundred years ago. He didn’t know what it was like to eat real food, to enjoy a variety of tastes and textures. He almost envied the hare.
Peter decided that he had given the animal enough time. He sprang forward with superhuman speed and caught the hare around the scruff of the neck. It let out a high-pitched squeaking scream but Peter soon silenced it. He was sorry to kill such an innocent creature, but that was part of nature. He was the predator and the hare was the unfortunate prey. At least he had killed it before it could feel any pain. He wasn’t cruel like so many others of his kind.
The animal was still warm as he sunk his teeth into its flesh. Blood pooled in his mouth and dribbled down his chin. The taste was not satisfying, but his body responded instantly to the fresh blood. When had finished feeding, he wiped his mouth clean and started back for the house. He carried the hare with him.
CHAPTER 3
After weeks of catching snippets of Ashe’s thoughts and emotions, Peter knew he needed outside help. The breach of trust was straining his and Ashe’s relationship. As Peter worked through the morning he contemplated who he could trust with such information. He decided on someone untouched by vampire politics, a neutral source of knowledge who had helped him out in the past. The first person who came to mind was Winnie. She wouldn’t tell anyone she had been in contact with Peter or knew where he was. Even if he reached out to her his location would be safe. Besides, Winnie had met Ashe and knew that whatever Peter did, he did for her.
Things were a bit complicated with Winnie, however, and Peter couldn’t count on her one hundred percent. As a sentinel, she held no stakes in petty blood feuds and was only interested in keeping tabs on the vampires and making sure they did nothing to put the humans at odds with them. In short, sentinels’ most fundamental job was to prevent all-out war between vampires and humans. Winnie had only helped Peter in the past because Landon’s clan had been doing things to bring attention to themselves. This time, the fight was between vampire clans. Winnie had no obligation to help either side. Even if she knew that Landon’s family were closing in on Peter’s position she would do nothing to warn them. She would only help Peter out with his telepathy issue and provide any information on that subject that he required. Outside of that, he was on his own.
At lunch, he ducked into the back hallway and called Winnie on his cell phone. He couldn’t risk being overheard by either Jerry or Greg.
She picked up after far too many rings, but Peter felt immediately better upon hearing the old woman’s familiar voice.
“Didn’t think you’d miss me so soon,” she said. Peter could hear the pleased smile in her voice. He imagined her in that dusty old shop of hers among cobwebs and rusty antiques.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he replied jokingly. “By the way, how’s my mirror doing?”
“Still hasn’t sold. I’m starting to think I should have asked for cash for those earrings instead.”
Peter recalled the ruby earrings he had given Ashe as a present last Christmas. He had traded an antique mirror for them, or at least for the favor of tracking them down. The earrings were well-known heirlooms of the oldest matriarch of Peter’s vampire clan, and though they belonged to his family they had been missing for quite some
time until he had enlisted Winnie’s help in finding them. It was a shame Ashe couldn’t wear them now, but they couldn’t afford to advertise their affiliation with his clan. There was no telling who could be watching them.
“But I’m guessing an old mirror isn’t why you called,” Winnie prompted.
“No,” Peter replied. “I need to ask you about vampiric abilities. Specifically telepathic communication.”
Winnie sighed. “It’s a complicated subject, but first tell me what got you asking about it.”
Peter paced idly up and down the hallway as he explained the situation. He told Winnie of the way he and Ashe had communicated during the blizzard by using no more than thought alone. He also told her of the more recent development of his ability to read Ashe’s thoughts and emotions even when she wasn’t actively projecting them.
“And this hasn’t happened with anyone else?” Winnie asked when he had finished.
“Only Ashe,” Peter replied.
There was silence on the other end. Peter could hear soft tapping like a pen against paper. Winnie must have been thinking. Finally she said, “I wouldn’t be so worried about the speed of your ability’s progression if I were you. Every once in a while, there’s a rare vampire that has special knack for the power they possess. You might just be a quick learner. Though powers progressing at this sort of speed tend to zap a vampire’s energy, making them ill. You might want to try feeding a bit more than you’re used to. Stave off those pesky hunger pangs before they start causing trouble.”
This wasn’t what Peter wanted to hear. If his ability to read Ashe’s thoughts had been brought on by something external, there might have been a way to reverse it. However, if the ability was something he naturally possessed there would be no way to rid himself of it. He may be aware of Ashe’s thoughts and feelings forever. “Is there any way to stop it?” Peter asked.
Winnie replied, “The power’s under your control. It’s up to you to stop it. It might be hard at first but eventually you’ll get the knack. In the meantime, I suggest telling Ashe about it. As a woman who’s lived for centuries and had my fair share of romantic attachments back in the day, the one thing I do know is that communication and honesty are vital. If you’re struggling with something, let her share the burden. If she truly loves you she’ll be glad that you asked.”
Peter was reluctant to tell Ashe about the new aspects of his ability, but he also was aware of the wisdom in Winnie’s words. He decided he would tell Ashe everything tonight after work. She deserved to know the truth, and to share what he was going through. He would also start to work on controlling it for her sake as much as his own.
“It’s a good thing I called you,” Peter said.
As he moved to hang up, Winnie asked, “Where are you?”
Her question gave him pause.
Winnie seemed to notice, and added, “I like to keep tabs on my people, that’s all.”
Peter relented. “It’s a small town called Morris. The population’s probably a few thousand people at most. It’s quiet and Ashe likes it here. But I don’t plan on staying here forever.”
“Morris,” Winnie repeated. “Haven’t heard of it.”
“I’d be surprised if you had.”
Winnie said nothing further on the subject. They said their goodbyes and Peter hung up.
Peter found himself standing at the door of the room he had encountered during his first visit to the theater. He hadn’t been back since that day, far too busy with construction in the main theater to even think of setting foot in the back rooms. Perhaps it was simply the memory of his last encounter with that door, but Peter could almost feel a harmful aura radiating out from the dark wood. He extended his hand slowly towards the doorknob, the sick feeling growing as his fingers neared the metal. At the last second he drew them back, cursing himself for being so silly. There was no monster behind that door. He turned away from the door and left the hallway. He would see what was in that room another day. There were more pressing matters to attend to at the moment.
Peter came home from work with flowers tied up in a delicate white ribbon. They were wildflowers picked from the park on his way home. Ashe loved the irregular shapes and bursting colors of the blossoms. No two flowers were exactly alike. They smelled like the woods, a wild and entrancing smell that reminded Ashe of fairy tales from her childhood. Flowers from a shop never appealed to Ashe, but these ones were just perfect. Though Ashe had been feeling under the weather on and off for the past couple of weeks, the sight of the blossoms made her feel much better.
“What’s the occasion?” Ashe asked taking the flowers from Peter’s outstretched hand.
Peter rarely gave her flowers so this was a pleasant surprise. Her thoughts still lingered on the day he had kissed her so passionately in the living room. She had really thought that was going to be her first time. Peter’s touch had been so insistent, so aggressive in a way it had never been before. Ashe been ready for the next step in their relationship, but Peter had pulled away without explanation. He had made no attempt to explain himself since then.
Peter looked nervous. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“Then tell me,” Ashe said, the flowers suddenly feeling heavy in her hands. Was he about to break up with her? If so, then why the flowers?
“I’m not going to break up with you,” Peter replied.
“Then what is it?” Ashe asked with unease. It was as if Peter could hear her thoughts.
“I can,” he said.
Ashe was confused. “You can what?”
“I can hear your thoughts.”
It took a moment for Ashe to fit the pieces together. It couldn’t be true. Peter had assured her that was not how his ability worked. Ashe dropped the flowers and they tumbled to the floor forgotten.
“You told me you couldn’t,” Ashe accused. How long had he kept this hidden from her?
Peter made a move towards her but Ashe backed away. “I couldn’t before,” he said. “Not until a few weeks ago. I should have told you then, but I was stupid and selfish. I thought it would go away on its own, but it hasn’t.”
They could only talk to each other, Ashe told herself, not steal things from one another’s minds. Peter had been present in her private thoughts and feelings without her knowledge for weeks. In theory, it had not seemed like such a bad thing, but in reality it was terrifying. Ashe felt violated.
“You’re reading my thoughts right now, aren’t you?” she asked.
Peter hung his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t control it yet, but I’m trying. All I can do for now is let you know when I’m doing it. It’s not fair, but it’s the best I can do.” He genuinely looked ashamed. Ashe could only imagine how hard it was on him to possess this power that, by its nature, broke the foundation of trust between them. She would have to take it on faith that he was being honest with her.
Ashe asked, “Is it just me, or is it others too?”
If Peter could read the thoughts of those around them it could keep them safe from Landon’s clan and others who would do them harm.
“No,” Peter shook his head. “It’s only you.”
He knelt down to pick up the dropped flowers and held them out to her. “You have to give me some time to work things out.”
For the first time since Peter had told her about his mind-reading, Ashe found the courage to fully meet his gaze. What she saw there was fear and guilt, and she could tell that this was as hard for him as it was for her. She reached the flowers.
“We’ll get through this together,” she said, though she still felt uneasy. She had to believe that he was trying his best.
He gave her a tender kiss, their hands still clasped together around the bouquet. Ashe let her love for him well up from the depths of her being and fill her body. She hoped that he could feel it and was comforted by its strength. They would both need the strength of love to get through this together.
Ashe was in the back of the library searching for a
match to the insignia Peter had found on the flyer in the theater. It was more of an idle curiosity than anything else. Peter had told her some tragedy had occurred at the theater decades ago that had caused its closure and subsequent abandonment. She had tried asking the people of the town but no one seemed willing to talk about it, not even Will who was usually quite talkative on any subject regarding the town. It turned out that his family, the Morrises, were the ones who had founded the town that took their name. Will seemed to know everything about the town, except for the meaning of the insignia.
Ashe’s arms ached as she took down books from the higher shelves. She wondered if she was coming down with the flu. Lately she had been tired all the time, and the stress headaches she had associated with college life had come back with a vengeance. She told herself she would sleep it off on the weekend. For now she had work to do.
She was deep in the stacks when a voice called her name. Will was coming towards her from the door leading to the town archives. Ashe looked up and smiled. “You aren’t coming over to let me take a crack at the town archives, are you?” she said.
Will laughed. “Not a chance. I don’t want to lose my job. If you need any information you can make a formal request like everyone else.”
Ashe pouted exaggeratedly. “You’re no fun.”
“Chin up,” Will said, brushing her chin with his finger. Ashe smiled. It was easy being around Will. He was human, simple. He said what he thought and never hid anything from her. Best of all, he couldn’t read her thoughts. He reminded her of the old Peter, the laid-back, confident man she had first fallen in love with. Though she still loved Peter more than anything, sometimes she wanted to escape from the vampire world back into the world of the living. Will afforded that escape, if nothing else.