Authors: Arreyn Grey
At the sound of the bell, Elise barely heard Magistra's customary parting, “Valete discipuli!” She was already out of her seat, notebook and textbook stuffed into her bag, and turning to face Alex. Just now, he was looking at her seriously as he came around the row of desks to meet her. “You seem very happy, Elise,” he said softly after a moment.
She tilted her head to the side, watching him study her. She couldn't quite tell what he was thinking, and took that to mean that she was separate from him right now as well. Alone in her head, she considered, then smiled serenely as she answered. “You know, I am happy.” It surprised her a little bit-- she hadn't actually been happy in a long time. “I feel strong right now, and safe. A lot of people take that for granted, but it's sort of a change for me.”
Alex smiled back at her and reached out his hand. Without a moment's hesitation, she took it, and when he made to escort her from the classroom, she reveled once more in his look of shock as she took the lead and all but dragged him out the door.
The day was sunny, but last night's chill had intensified, heralding the arrival of autumn. Elise glanced back at Alex, who was chuckling as he allowed her to tow him across the street to the park; the breeze stirred his silky black hair, tossing it across his sparkling eyes, and Elise felt her heart skip a beat. He was just so handsome and bright, and though she knew perfectly well that was no indication of his demeanor, in this moment she could have no doubt of his good intentions.
“So,” she chirped, whirling to face him beneath the huge oak tree he'd pinned her against two weeks ago. “You understand, now that I've had a few days to digest all this, I do have questions.”
“Okay, go,” Alex smirked, leaning nonchalantly against the tree.
Elise drew a deep breath. “First things first,” she said, fixing him with a very direct gaze. “About the first day we talked, when you threatened me.”
Alex suddenly looked much less carefree. “Yes?” He said warily. It took all of Elise's willpower to keep her amusement contained-- she enjoyed how wary he was of her temper.
“Now,” she began severely. “If you were the normal kind of vampire who actually needed to drink people's blood to survive, I would understand. But you're this lame, non-killing vampire who had no reason to threaten my life-- and I'm not buying the whole 'trying to get my attention' thing. So why did you say that me being interesting to you would keep me alive longer? Do you just kill people for fun, then?”
Alex laughed, his tension broken. “Little girl, the sheer volume of emotion that poured through you when I said that kept me sated for more than a day. After that encounter, of course, every time you saw me, you would remember and feel those same things again. All it would take was the barest touch or whisper to keep the emotions coming-- it's a basic recipe for self-replenishing food.”
Elise blinked at him, then abruptly giggled. “You really do have this down to a science, don't you?”
“Eh,” he waved away the compliment. “Too much time on my hands.”
“All right, next question.” He nodded, and she continued. “You aren't living with your uncle here-- in fact, you don't even have an uncle, do you?” She demanded.
“No, as a matter of fact, I don't,” he said, fighting a smile. Elise shook her head, a little amazed at his nerve.
“Or a father in the air force, of course, now that I think of it. Is there anything about that handy little cover story that's actually true?”
“I do have a family tradition of military service,” he said, amused and utterly unrepentant. “Of course, I'm the one who served, and the last time I enlisted was in England for World War Two. But I'd say that still counts.”
Elise stared at him. “Have I mentioned lately that you're out of your mind?” She asked rather faintly. Alex laughed.
“Next question,” he chuckled.
Elise took a deep breath, her amusement subsiding. “Last week, when I came to visit you at lunch, you were feeding, weren't you?”
Alex nodded again. “Yes,” he said simply, but at the murderous look on her face, elaborated. “It isn't always like that, though. You have to remember, I'm about nine hundred years old, and I am actively using quite a bit of energy at any given time-- I've gotten to the point where I need that much for a meal. It's why I tend to stay in cities: small towns just don't do it for me anymore.”
Elise blinked at him, remembering. “Alex,” she said slowly. “That riot in New York...”
Alex chuckled. “You think too much,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “Yes, that was me-- well, us. I don't have a cousin in New York, either, by the way, but I do have a friend-- Gregory. I found him and his sister, Sarah, about five hundred years ago. I trained them, and we spent a number of decades together; we like to keep in touch. I went up to visit the two of them, and apparently that riot was what happened when we went out to feed without paying much attention.”
“So what will feeding be like for me?” She asked, though it was an effort not to press him for more person information. She was desperate to know more about her own circumstances, but just as curious about him and others like him. “I mean, once I start using energy consciously, am I correct in assuming that I'll need more than I absorb subconsciously?”
“Think of it like breathing,” Alex explained. “You breathe all the time, but if you're going to run a mile, you start breathing deeper.”
“Okay, so how do I do that?” She asked, holding her hands open in a gesture of helplessness. “I feel like it's something I should know, but...” She shrugged.
“No, no, don't worry-- it's quite normal not to know how to do it at first.” He smiled reassuringly. “If you open to it, you'll feed just from an exchange of emotion. That's direct feeding. But you can also gather energy ambiently. Have you ever been to a professional sporting event or a big concert?”
Elise was thrown a little by the apparent change of subject, but she nodded. “My dad took me to a Steelers game, right before high school,” she said, smiling a little at the memory.
“And I bet you loved it, didn't you?” Alex prompted.
“Oh, yes,” Elise grinned. “The crowd was huge, and so loud – they were all screaming and chanting and jumping up and down, and I got to be a part of it, and-- oh, my god, that was feeding, wasn't it?”
Alex laughed. “Yes, miss, it was.”
“Wow,” Elise murmured, recalling the light, buoyant sensation of being so utterly alive, surrounded by so many other people who were so vibrant and open.
“Now, that was just ambient feeding. I always picture it as using a fine net to skim heat waves out of the air above a crowd. But imagine, now, if instead of the players on the field, all those people were focusing that energy directly on you.” Elise's eyes widened; for a moment, she was actually speechless-- and she realized Alex was sharing his own memories of the sensation with her. She looked up at him, and saw his eyes dancing with amusement. “Now you begin to see why so many of us, even latents, are drawn to careers as performers or public figures-- all that energy is intoxicating.”
“So, does this have an effect on the people we feed from?” Elise asked, suddenly troubled. “I mean, is it like donating blood-- do they have to make more energy, or something?”
Alex sobered, his amusement muting. “Yes,” he began somberly. “Ambient feeding is perfectly safe for them-- what we take is excess that they simply exude; however, it isn't nearly as potent as feeding directly. Ambient feeding is fine for everyday, or as a pick-me-up, but outside of events like that football game, there isn't enough real substance to it to support us for long.”
He took a deep breath, and Elise noticed that his gaze was leveled on the playground. Even from this distance, they could make out the squeals and shouts of a dozen young children playing there. Alex sounded sad as he continued. “But there are side effects for humans from whom we feed directly too often, or for too long. In essence, as best we understand it, we are sucking out pieces of their souls; they'll replenish if they spend enough time away from us, but our feeding is a one-way transaction. Although we can push energy into them purposely, which in turn costs us, they won't gain anything just from an interaction with us.
“But they feel very alive during the act, and their psyches tend to latch on to us because of it. They become clingy, needy, and dependent-- always seeking the emotional high of our feeding. When they are away from us during this period, they will experience depression, hopelessness, and poor memory, even losing small periods of time. If this relationship continues too long, the human will waste away from the continuous demand. There are members of our kind who actively drain humans-- they insist that by doing so they dig down to the very essence of life, and that it is very potent. I personally have never seen the appeal. But most often, you see that relationship when a powerful latent is tied to a human-- picture, for instance, a successful politician and his ailing wife: he has drained her for so long that she is wasting away. The medical symptoms are akin to dementia, and can eventually lead to utter insanity.”
Elise swallowed hard. Until now, even if this wasn't a game, it had been by and large a toy; now she saw very clearly that like everything, it had a much darker side. Buying time to get herself under control, she looked out over the field nearest them, where the varsity girls' soccer team was warming up. Across the field, by a pair of yellow school buses, another team in different colors did the same-- apparently, there was a game today. With a sigh, Elise turned away from the sight of supportive parents setting out chairs by the sidelines.
Sinking onto the springy grass and patting the ground to invite Alex to join her, she voiced as best she could something that had bothered her since Alex had mentioned hiding their abilities from normal humans. “Even with those side effects, though, we aren't all that dangerous to humans, are we? I mean, we don't drink blood or kill people to survive, but you said we as a species tend to encourage the whole Dracula-like myth to make ourselves less believable... Is that really necessary? Why would they be scared of us?”
Alex sighed, sliding down the tree trunk to sit with her on the ground. “Aside from the perpetual instinct to fear that which is different, you mean? Well, you saw what happened in the cafeteria while I was feeding-- and I know you expected to hear all about it for days after, so didn't it surprise you when no one said a word?”
Elise nodded, arranging her skirts around her. “I was pretty confused by that-- I imagine you had something to do with it?”
“Of course. And influencing a crowd to forget that something unusual occurred is hardly the most I can do. Humans would fear us because they have no way to stop us from influencing everything about them.”
“Really?” Elise asked, surprised. “I mean, I know you're good, but wouldn't someone catch on?”
Alex smiled at her. “Your perception is colored by your potential to see into me as well as I can see into you-- something humans don't have. Imagine if I were to use the wealth I've amassed-- which is considerable-- to get myself noticed by the right people. Put me on a stage in front of a national convention, and suddenly I'm the next major party candidate for president. All those speeches allow plenty of time to influence people-- to say nothing of sabotaging my opponent whenever we encounter each other. Suddenly, I've been elected President of the United States, with only a tiny portion of the population even slightly suspicious that they may not have actually chosen to elect me.”
Elise realized her mouth was hanging open. “Oh,” she said softly. “When you put it that way, it makes a little more sense.” She took a deep breath as Alex chuckled. “So, what can we do, really? Like, what's possible?”
Alex answered her with a smirk. “Really, anything you can think of. Emotional manipulation, memory modification, and so-called mind reading. Increasing your physical prowess to super-human capacities, healing or inflicting injuries, affecting the physical movement of objects, changing your physical appearance or changing others' perception of you, and of course, continuous cell regeneration-- which leads to our pseudo-immortality.”
By the time he was done, Elise's eyebrows were nearing her hairline. “Wow,” she breathed. “And I can learn to do all of that?”
“One thing at a time,” Alex answered patiently, his eyes dancing. “Now, if you're done with the questions for now, it's time to breathe.”
7 CONSEQUENCES
When Gregory's text message sent him to his computer the following Thursday night, Alexander almost decided not to open the email waiting for him. He hadn't forgotten his request for information; however, Elise had progressed so well both personally and in her training over the past week that Alexander was somewhat reluctant to return to the subject of her past.
However, as he'd often found to be the case, the information drew him like a flame would a moth, and he found himself seated at his desk, opening the files Gregory had sent him. As he began to read, the fury uncoiling within him let him know he'd chosen poorly.
Alexander skimmed over Elise's school transcripts from Allison Springs' middle and high schools, noting similarities-- such as her grades-- and differences, mainly in the form of her extracurricular activities. She'd been in French club, he saw, not Latin; she'd played a number of sports, as she'd said; there was even a photo that drew a tight smile from him-- a grainy yearbook shot of her laughing with a group of other girls, the caption for which told him that she'd been in her eighth grade musical.
Then he came to what he'd been searching for: the police reports and court transcripts. He scrolled past names, photos, and testimonials-- Jason Martinez, Evan Sinclair, Kyle Brent, Christopher Rosenberg, and William Bates. Mr. Eric Heinlein. Less than a page in, he was already seeing red.
Two names in the list of character witnesses for the defense made him pause-- Kristen Abernathy and Jennifer Parks. He pulled up Elise's school files again, and there they were, smiling with her arms around their shoulders, all three of them wearing ridiculous sequined costumes. He wondered if, at that point, her friends had been trying to think of a way to betray her-- but of course not. That was just what humans did. Knowing that after high school they would likely never see most of those people ever again, never having to worry about running into the people they hurt after a century or so of stewing, they felt free to practice whatever cruelty entered their dim little minds. He slammed his palm into the desk, and the resulting sound of cracking wood did nothing to improve his mood.
Standing quickly before he could damage any more furniture, Alexander stared out the dark window, abruptly wishing that he was with Elise. She would be asleep now, however, and in any event, he thought ruefully that he hadn't quite sunk to the level of stalker where he would show up at her house in the middle of the night. Without her to focus on, however, the rage he was trying to push back surged forward once more.
He knew she would resent, feel objectified by, and maybe even hate him for the plan that was unfurling in his mind. He couldn't help it, though. With a resigned sigh, he went slowly back to the computer and pulled up a map.
Saturday morning found Elise pacing the edge of the lake in the park across the street from Willowdale High School, while Alex lounged on a bench beside her.
“How exactly is this supposed to work?” Elise demanded incredulously. Alex's barely-suppressed smile did nothing to ease her frustration.
“Picture it like a paint brush-- instead of using a large brush to paint broad strokes, you want one with a fine, narrow point.”
Elise gritted her teeth. “Not working,” she ground out, struggling to breathe deeply. She felt the pulse of her power in her chest, fed by her annoyance, but when she went to reach for it, it slipped from her grasp like smoke. Sighing, she consciously relaxed the tense muscles in her shoulders and jaw, concentrating on her heartbeat and the steady pulse of power that went with it. She didn't realize she'd scrunched up her face, too, until she head Alex emit a sound that might have been an impression of a strangling cat.
Her eyes flew open. “Stop laughing at me!” She cried, whirling and whacking him on the shoulder.
“I can't help it,” he chuckled, not at all phased by her blow. “You're just so cute.”
“I am not cute,” Elise pouted, well aware that her pouting could indeed be considered cute.
“Elise my darling,” Alex took both her hands and gazed seriously up into her eyes from his seat on the bench. “You are many wonderful things, and you had best come to terms with the fact that cute is one of them.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, then sighed again as she withdrew her hands from his grasp.
Clearly, the paintbrush analogy wouldn't work-- she needed something else. She cast her mind around, and it occurred to her that what she was trying to do might work well as radar. Once she found the ping she was looking for, it would be a simple matter of narrowing the 360-degree area of her focus down to a cone, and from there to a single, sharp point. She decided to give it a try.
Stepping back from him and turning toward the water, Elise closed her eyes once more and breathed deep. She envisioned a bubble expanding from herself, encompassing the whole park, and a red wave of shimmering heat spinning around it, searching for other minds to interact with.
Sweeping her awareness wide across the park, Elise was immediately and completely overwhelmed by the amount of feedback she received. There were schools of tiny fish in the water at her feet, Alex behind her, children in the playground across the lake, joggers running along the park's paths, four different sports teams spread across the grassy fields-- to say nothing of the squirrels, birds, and other animals who made the park their home. Her eyes flew open as she gasped, stumbling toward the water.
In a flash, Alex was there, his strong arms steadying her. “Are you all right?” He asked, half worried and half amused. “You need to stop falling over, you know.”
But Elise wasn't listening. The second he'd touched her, before she'd completely closed off her mind again, she had been open, searching for the focal point of another living being to lock on to-- and she had found Alex.
In that instant, pictures had flashed through her mind, information she had never thought to have, faces she'd never wanted to see again.
Evan Sinclair-- studying criminal psychology at University of Miami. Kyle Brent-- corporal in the army, married for two years. William Bates-- in tech school, slated to take over his uncle’s mechanic shop in Allison Springs, has a girlfriend. Jason Martinez- working as a journalist in Chicago, has a girlfriend. Christopher Rosenberg- attending law school in Pittsburgh, has an internship with a firm in Allison Springs. Mr. Eric Heinlein- retired, living in Texas with his family. Kristen Abernathy-- in drama club and playing varsity field hockey at Allison Springs High School, planning to attend University of Pittsburgh for teaching.
Elise's knees gave way, and distantly she was aware that Alex caught her and lifted her in his arms, carrying her to the bench. There was a roaring in her ears, and she felt cold and clammy; black spots danced in her vision, and she found suddenly that she couldn't lift her head.
She wasn't sure how much time passed before she became aware of Alex calling her name. With a great effort, she focused on his face, and saw that he had gone alarmingly pale.
“Elise,” he whispered. “I am so sorry.”
For once, his sincerity didn't move her. She turned her face away from him, lacking the strength to do more-- but of course, she didn't need to be weak anymore. She reached for her power, and it did her bidding readily. She sent it pulsing through her body, burning out the last of the faintness, and felt her wobbly limbs instantly firm. Brushing off Alex's hands, she stood.
“Wait, please,” he exclaimed. “Let me explain.”
Elise thought for a moment that she might actually kill him. As it was, her hand twitched, itching for his throat as she whirled to face him. “Explain?” She hissed venomously. “There is nothing for you to explain. You had no right-- none!-- to pry any further into my past. You might have at least thought of the effect seeing all that would have on me-- or did you really think you could hide it from me?” He actually shrank back from the force of her rage, and she had the vague impression she was making it difficult for him to breathe.
Striding back to him, Elise grabbed the front of his shirt in both fists, shoving him back against the wooden bench hard enough to make it creak. Her nails were digging into his shoulders-- she felt it not just in her hands, but in her shoulders as well; he was completely open to her, she realized. Narrowing her eyes in focus, she ruthlessly pawed through his thoughts without a care for his comfort; she felt him wince more than once as she handled his power roughly.
And then she found what she supposed she'd been looking for: the mix of emotions he'd felt as he read Gregory's email. She felt his rage burn through her, adding to her own, but she also felt his guilt-- even now, he thought he ought to have somehow protected her from what had happened three years ago. She felt the stab of his pain every time she'd faked a smile or flinched away from him. The irrational regret was layered over with fresh guilt, that he was selfish enough to risk her having to relive her past again so he could soothe the rage in himself. The sobering recognition that he was letting her down, behaving like her father had: with more regard for his own feelings than for hers. The arrogant confidence that he would be able to hide this information from her, and the underlying doubt, the knowledge that he couldn't hide anything from her-- and the fear that engendered in him.
But most of all, she felt his profound sadness. She felt his awareness of his own flaws, and the wish that he could be better for her. And deep beneath it all, she felt the shy but certain resolution that he was completely, irrevocably in love with her.
Elise drew her power back from him, and he sagged in a mixture of relief and defeat. “I'm so sorry,” he said again, his normally sure voice painfully subdued.
“It's okay,” Elise said, her voice a dangerous caress as a plan took form in her mind. “I should have done this a long time ago anyway. But how exciting for you, now you get to be a part of it.”
Alex looked vaguely terrified. “Elise, what are you talking about?”
If she hadn't been so furious, she would have found his confusion and uncertainty entertaining. After all, he enjoying playing fear games with her so much-- it was about time she gave him a taste of his own medicine.
Elise smiled, and knew that this was what it felt like to be a hunter instead of prey. “You are going to take me to Allison Springs,” she said ruthlessly. “Now.”
To his credit, his challenge was firm but sweet. “I'm not taking you there to do something you'll regret later,” he said, reaching out to grip her wrists and hold her in front of him.
Elise felt her predator’s grin relax into something a little more natural, his concern softening just a tiny bit of her rage. “I won't kill anyone, if that's what you're worried about.”
“It is,” he murmured, looking up at her with something resembling awe. “You have death in your eyes right now.”
Elise locked her gaze with his. “Remember this if it ever occurs to you to cross me,” she breathed. “Now, we have a bit of a trip-- we'd best get going.” The words were bitter, and she was already turning away.
Once he saw that she was resolute in her decision, Alex became coldly calm and efficient. He took charge, escorting her back to his house, and after tossing a few items into a backpack, out into his car. Elise wasn't certain how they would get to Allison Springs-- she supposed she had expected to drive, despite it being over three hundred miles away. However, Elise was paying enough attention to notice that once Alex drove over the bridge into Philadelphia, he headed onto Route 95 South, not 76 West as she'd expected. “Where are you going?” She demanded quietly, struggling not to lose her temper again.
Alex shot her a glance as he merged onto the highway. “The airport,” he replied shortly. “Did you think we were going to drive there?” When Elise didn't say anything, he gave a short laugh. “Elise, it's almost a five hour drive just to get there-- that's not going to happen.”
Her fury threatened to soften as Elise considered the cost of airline tickets. But then the photos of her attackers flashed through her mind, along with fantasies of the happy and blameless lives they were living now. Her jaw clenched, Elise nodded curtly.
Alex set the pace as they strode through the airport, but for once, Elise had no trouble keeping up with his long-legged stride. She barely listened to him bantering with the perky woman behind the desk as he purchased their tickets. He was passing them off as brother and sister, buying open-ended tickets for a short-notice trip that might be their last visit with an ailing grandmother. The woman was appropriately sympathetic; Elise struggled to contain her simmering rage at the delay.
When they reached the long line at the security checkpoint, Alex took a tight grip on Elise's arm. She nearly shook him off, but he bent and quickly whispered in her ear. “Contain yourself,” he murmured sharply against her hair. “You're putting off waves of anger-- you feel dangerous, and the humans are starting to notice. If you can't pass yourself off as harmless right now, you're going to get detained and searched-- and I thought you didn't want delays.”