Raven

by Allison van Diepen

  “Wow. How long were you together?”

  “About a century. Since then, on and off.”

  “A century? That’s the longest relationship I’ve ever heard of.”

  She laughs. “It was long, but wonderful.”

  “Why did you end it then?”

  “We didn’t want to tire of each other, so we decided to take an extended break. We’ll get back together one day. A great love can survive centuries, and that’s what Carlo and I have.”

  An image of Zin comes to mind. I could imagine spending centuries with him. There are some people you can never get tired of. Some people are eternal.

  If only I had that kind of deal with Zin. If only I knew our time would come.

  But that’s Viola’s love story, not mine.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Tonight, for the first time, I’m invited to one of Carlo’s Sunday dinners.

  When I walk in, I feel deflated. I thought I’d be the only non–Jiang Shi there, but it turns out several of the Jiang Shi have brought their friends.

  Carlo’s place is a black-and-white maze of rooms. It must have at least four bedrooms, or maybe the mirrors on certain walls make it look bigger than it is. The living room is minimalist, with soft black seating and white walls. Right out of a style magazine.

  Zin isn’t here yet, and Viola is engrossed in conversation with a guy (I imagine it’s her boyfriend), so I take a seat on the couch beside Richard. He’s as tall and strong as Mig, but not at all gregarious, and with a formality that’s not very twenty-first-century. He’s hardly said two words to me since I came to Evermore.

  “Hey.” I smile.

  “Hello.”

  We sit in silence for a couple of minutes. I rack my brain for something to say. “I hear you knew Queen Elizabeth the First,” I say quietly. “What was she like?”

  “Crusty, but well respected.”

  “Crusty? You mean she was bitchy?”

  “I mean she was crusty. She wore far too much foundation. Back then they used white lead paint. By the end of the day it would get all cracked and crusty. It was grotesque.”

  “Ick.”

  Carlo asks me what I would like to drink. Carlo serving me? Now this is a nice change. I ask for a gin and tonic, a fairly adult drink. He brings it back in a minute.

  “Thanks, Carlo. You’re an excellent host.”

  He smiles.

  A few more people arrive, and Richard and I are joined on the couch by Gabriel, who brings with him a quiet intensity so different from Richard’s quiet calmness. When Gabriel starts talking politics, it hits me that our interaction has never been anything but music-related until now.

  “And if it doesn’t change, we’re going to have another Civil War,” he says. “This century.”

  “The next major war will not be within this country,” Richard says. “World War Three will force the West to unite.”

  I sip my drink, wishing I’d chosen something fruity. I’d rather not hear this WWIII talk. It scares me. Which probably doesn’t make sense, since by the end of the century I’ll be dead, and these guys won’t.

  Daniella perches on the side of the couch, her slim, bearded boyfriend standing next to her holding a martini. I hear he’s an academic type named James, but she hasn’t bothered to introduce him to me. “Did I hear something about World War Three?” she asks.

  “It’s coming,” Richard says. “One could argue it’s already begun in the Middle East.”

  Daniella raises an eyebrow. “Ever the cynic. What is it with you guys?” She turns to James. “Am I the only eternal optimist?”

  “I’m an optimist,” I say. “At least, I try to be.”

  Daniella shrugs her left shoulder, which is her way of acknowledging my existence. I’d prefer that she completely ignore me rather than give me this patronizing little shrug.

  I excuse myself and go to the kitchen, where Carlo is tossing veggies in a pan. His kitchen is exactly what I would have expected—sleek, state-of-the-art appliances, black and silver.

  “Smells good. Can I help with anything?”

  “That’s okay. I’m a well-oiled machine, as they say. But thank you, Raven.”

  “Thanks for inviting me.”

  “You are one of the family.”

  I feel the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Something about the way he says it makes me nervous. I force a smile. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure you say that to all the mortals.”

  “Actually, I don’t.” The pan sizzles as he tosses the vegetables.

  I feel an inexplicable panic. Then I realize: Of course he doesn’t say it to all the mortals; I’m the only mortal who knows about them.

  “I’m glad you’re okay with me knowing about you guys,” I say.

  “I trust you completely.”

  “Thanks. I’m not sure if I’ve earned that yet, but I appreciate it.”

  “You didn’t have to earn it. I can see your soul.”

  “Oh, right. So you can see that I’m not the type of person to sell you out to the Enquirer.”

  He looks puzzled. “Who is the enquirer?”

  I laugh. I guess he hasn’t been in America all that long. “It’s just a gossip rag.”

  “Ah, yes.”

  I watch him for a while. “I hear you’re a world-class cook.”

  “I’ve had years of practice. But if your expectations are high, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.”

  “I never have high expectations. That way I’m rarely disappointed, or at least, rarely surprised.” Maybe it’s the buzz from my drink, but I feel like I can ask him anything; he did tell me I could. “I see that a lot of the Jiang Shi are having relationships with mortals. Are you ever worried they’ll get too serious?”

  “They know they will have to disengage at the appropriate time. Most do so well before the time comes. It’s the nature of most romantic relationships that they will not last.”

  “What about you—do you have relationships with women?”

  A black eyebrow arches. “You’re curious tonight.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No need.” He puts a lid over the pan and leaves it to simmer. Approaching the marble island where I’m sitting, he steeples his fingers. “I enjoy the company of women. I simply prefer to keep it in the realm of dating. Fortunately, my way isn’t unusual these days. Women are disappointed, but never surprised.”

  “That’s sad.”

  “I do what’s best for all concerned.”

  I remember Zin’s words that horrible night he rejected me. I’m doing what’s best for you.

  Carlo stares into me like he’s reading my thoughts. “Most Jiang Shi leave a trail of broken hearts behind them. I try to avoid that. I would not have a serious relationship with a mortal woman.”

  “Viola said you were together for a while.”

  “The longest relationship in my rather long lifetime, though I spent thirty years with a woman named Martine.”

  “You spent that long with a woman who wasn’t a Jiang Shi?”

  He shakes his head. “She was one of us.”

  “Where is she now?”

  His expression darkens. “Murdered.”

  “How’s that possible?”

  “Since you know about the Jiang Shi, you might as well know about our enemies. They are called Heng Te, which means hunters. They are mortals, Chinese scholar-warriors whose goal has been to rid the earth of every last Jiang Shi. Fortunately we have managed to elude them for several generations.”

  I can’t believe this. The Jiang Shi have enemies? It’s sickening to think that the Heng Te’s purpose is to kill them. The Jiang Shi don’t have it easy, and they pay their dues to humanity in any way they can. At least, that’s what Zin’s been telling me.

  “I thought it was impossible to kill a Jiang Shi.”

  “They can drain every last soul from our bodies. That is the only way to kill us.”

  “Oh God.”

  “Don’t worry, Raven. All
of the Jiang Shi know how to defend themselves. Everyone has been trained and tested.”

  “Tested for what?” Zin appears in the doorway of the kitchen.

  “Syphilis,” I say, taking another sip of my drink.

  “Syphilis sucks,” Zin says. “Ask Mig. He had it before he was changed.”

  “I hope this won’t become our dinner conversation,” Carlo says.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  It’s hard to picture Carlo doing anything half-assed. Like our dinner—it’s a traditional Italian meal with a variety of veggies, three kinds of fish, and homemade pasta. The Jiang Shi attack the food like it’s their last meal, the same way Zin always has. I guess having extra souls inside you boosts your appetite.

  I have Carlo on one side of me (at the head of the table, no surprise) and Viola’s boyfriend, Kirk, on the other. Kirk is a pro motocross racer who tours the country sponsored by some big company I’ve never heard of. He’s good-looking in a rugged way, but rough around the edges, and not someone I could picture sophisticated Viola falling in love with. But then, maybe that’s the appeal.

  The sadness of it strikes me. Am I better off not being with Zin the way I crave? Every time I look at him across the table, I know I’m not. If he gives me a chance one day, I’ll take it. Even if it ends in heartbreak. Knowing it will end in heartbreak.

  I realize I’m not the only one watching Zin. Daniella is too, beneath her dark eyelashes. She’s doing it subtly enough that her date doesn’t seem to notice. But I notice. I can’t believe I haven’t sensed it before, but then, I’ve rarely been in close proximity to both of them.

  Daniella is in love with Zin. Whoa. I’m not ready to deal with this.

  If I can see it, Zin must see it too. Are they going to get together? It would be the perfect match; they’re both Jiang Shi.

  Maybe they’ve already gotten together. Of course. This group has been together for such a long time that any attraction would have played out years ago. Obviously Daniella still has feelings for him.

  It’s amazing how so much can become clear in a second.

  It was hard enough to accept that he had a serious girlfriend once—even if it was two hundred years ago—but a relationship with Daniella? Suddenly my dinner seems less appealing.

  I turn to Carlo. “Are you reading my mind or something?”

  His smile is gentle. “It’s easier to read your face. I’m watching you respond to your intuition. Intuition is everything, isn’t it? You are correct, Raven.”

  “They used to be . . . a couple?”

  “For a short time—five years, perhaps. A one-night stand, by our standards.”

  “What happened?”

  “Ask him. I’m sure he will tell you. It is so long ago now.”

  So Zin and Daniella are not some eternal couple like Carlo and Viola.

  Thank God.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Ex-girlfriends are like car wrecks.

  You shouldn’t want to know the details, but you do.

  We’re in an empty corner of the train on orange plastic seats. At the other end of the car, a group of teens in preppy getups are being loud and obnoxious. I wonder if I’m really of the same generation as them, or if it’s some cosmic mix-up.

  “So you and Daniella, huh? Way back when?”

  He doesn’t look happy. “Carlo told you.”

  “He confirmed it. But I noticed her looking at you.”

  He sighs. “I’d prefer to forget it ever happened.”

  “Sorry. I know it’s none of my business.”

  “It’s not that. I guess I didn’t tell you because . . . knowing my life was saved because of a crush isn’t something I’m proud of.”

  “Are you saying Carlo changed you because Daniella had a crush on you?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I wasn’t a knight in the Elizabethan court. I wasn’t a war hero. I was just an entertainer.”

  “A famous one, from what I’ve heard.”

  “I wasn’t famous then. I was a popular act at the local carnival, nothing more. Carlo and the Jiang Shi were in the audience one day, and apparently Daniella claimed it was love at first sight. I’d call it an infatuation, since we hadn’t actually spoken.”

  To my surprise, I feel for Daniella. Who are we to say if it was love or not? When I first saw Zin, an intense emotion came over me. If Daniella felt something similar, I can’t blame her for calling it love.

  “I got sick around that time, and she asked Carlo to change me. After I was changed, my life was turned upside down. I left my village, met up with the Jiang Shi, and got together with Daniella.”

  “But you didn’t love her?”

  “No. I tried to convince myself that I did. It would’ve been a lot easier to love a Jiang Shi. I didn’t want to be alone back then.”

  Back then. He wants to be alone now?

  “I’m grateful to Daniella. She helped me learn how to live as a Jiang Shi. She loved me even though I’d done nothing to deserve it, even though she knew that I never really loved her back. I know she can be cold at times, but she’s a good person.”

  “Must’ve been a terrible situation for both of you.”

  “I was too wrapped up in myself to notice her suffering.” The side of his mouth goes up without humor. “I actually resented her for asking Carlo to change me. I didn’t want to be a Jiang Shi. I wanted my other life back. I know it sounds irrational; I’d have been dead if I hadn’t been changed. But I wasn’t at my most rational then—it’s your stop.”

  He catches the door before it closes, holding it open so I can slip through. We climb the stairs leading us out of the station.

  I realize that Daniella and I have more in common than I thought. As hard as it is for me to love Zin and not be with him, her situation—being with him but knowing he didn’t love her—must’ve been worse.

  My neighborhood is silent except for a strong wind rustling the trees. Above us, the stars are muted and far away. I wish I could feel the warmth of Zin’s hand over mine. But he only takes my hand when he’s leading me somewhere.

  “I always wondered if Carlo regretted changing me. He spent centuries protecting her, and then I came along and broke her heart.”

  “He couldn’t protect her from being human. Heartbreak is a part of that.” I glance at him. Sometimes just being by his side is enough, but other times, like now, the distance between us is unbearable.

  “I guess it is.”

  “Carlo couldn’t regret changing you, because he knows you.”

  “He’s said many times that he sees me as a son. But sometimes I wonder if he really does.”

  “I’m sure Carlo wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true.”

  “That’s the mystery of the magician. You can know him two hundred years and not know him at all.”

  SOUL HATH

  SPOKEN

  When I get home from school the next day, Mom is in the living room reading a magazine. I have the feeling she’s been waiting for me.

  “Nicole.”

  Uh-oh.

  “Josh called.” She walks toward me, eyes swollen from tears.

  Josh. The ghost. I’ve hardly thought of him in weeks. I was fine with that. Happy with that.

  I consider running—to my room, out the front door. I can’t choose, and so I go nowhere.

  “Mom, I’m—”

  “He said he never called. That you made it up. I told him you wouldn’t lie to us and that he must’ve forgotten calling. Then he told me what happened at the club.”

  I drop my eyes.

  “How could you let those bouncers beat him up? Isn’t his life miserable enough already?” She starts to cry.

  I try to hug her, but she moves away.

  “They didn’t beat him up, Mom. He got all crazy, so they had to take him outside.”

  “He says you humiliated him in front of his friends. Your brother feels bad enough about his life without you being so hard on him.”

  “I was jus
t trying to help.”

  “Help? He says you accused him of manipulating us out of money. He was so hurt that he refused to call to get the money we’d promised him. They kicked him out of the rooming house because he couldn’t pay the rent. He called me from a shelter.”

  A lump burns my throat.

  Even if I could say it, sorry seems pointless now.

  Her eyes are huge, magnified by tears. “I can’t believe you would lie to us and tell us he was okay. I’m just beside myself, Nicole. I knew Josh was manipulative. I never thought you were too.”

  I just stand there, waiting for her eyes to let go of me.

  Then she’s crying again. I wish she’d go back to the anger. If she wants to yell at me, I’ve got plenty of anger to throw back at her. But I can’t yell at her tears.

  I run up to my room, collapsing on my bed. All I wanted to do was protect her and Dad. Why can’t she understand that?

  Everything is so fucked up. So completely and utterly fucked up.

  I wish I could do something, take something, to make this pain go away.

  But no, that’s Josh’s style. He’s the addict.

  I can’t self-destruct.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I have no more tears. I need to go somewhere. I need to escape.

  I call up Zin. “Can I come over?”

  “Of course. Are you okay?”

  “No. It hit the fan.”

  I ride the subway with my eyes closed, my iPod playing upbeat hip-hop. I crank the music up to drown out the squeaking of the train. The lady next to me gives me a nudge, so I turn it down a little. Yes, lady, I’m going to be deaf by the time I’m twenty. I’ve already accepted that.

  When I arrive at his door, Zin hugs me. “You don’t look so good, Nic. You haven’t eaten, have you?”

  “I don’t feel like eating.”

  “At least have some tea.” We go to the table, where he’s been eating his typical Mediterranean spread. He pours me a cup of tea. “Tell me what happened. Get it out. You’ll feel better afterward.”

  I tell him every last sordid detail. When it’s over, I feel lighter for having spewed it all out. Zin isn’t looking at me like I’m an evil, selfish being.

  “Life sucks that way,” he says. “No matter what you do, you can’t stop the people you love from suffering.”