An Ever Fixéd Mark

by Jessie Olson

  “That was wrong,” she swallowed air.

  “Was it?”

  “Yes,” she took a weak step backwards. “I love Ben.”

  “This isn’t about Ben,” he took more deliberate steps forward. “It’s about you and me.”

  “Oliver,” she wanted to cry. She thought of the eager kisses behind the carriage house. His lips were at hers again, making that flash of dream a reality. She lifted her arms to push him away but wilted as he opened her mouth and made the kiss more intense than the last. Ben. Ben. Ben. She tried to think of Ben, who no matter how much he hurt her didn’t deserve this. Oliver moved his lips away from her mouth and across her cheek, down to the nave of her neck. His hand reached for the waist of her skirt. Lizzie jerked herself away and left the room.

  She went back across the hall to Harriet’s room. She pulled the curtains shut and in her agitation walked into the dresser. She watched a bud vase wobble back and forth, fearing it would land on the ground with a destructive crash. She breathed out in relief and faced the doorway where Oliver stood watching her.

  Lizzie looked at the floor. “What’s so special about that chair?” she tried to think of Gerard Fulton.

  “That’s where you died.”

  Sound and the focus of the floorboards at her feet started to blur. She felt the blood drain from her head and leave the strength of her knees. Oliver caught her and guided her to the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Should I get you some water?”

  “Did it really happen here? In this room?” Lizzie clutched his hand.

  “Yes,” Oliver swallowed.

  “How?”

  “I…” Oliver sat beside her and looked at her hand in his own. “I was a fool, angry and consumed with my own selfish rage. I didn’t want it to end the way it did. I just wanted her to be with me.”

  “Why were you angry?” Lizzie felt she knew the answer but didn’t know where to find it in her mind.

  “Lily chose someone else.”

  “Charlotte?”

  Oliver stood up and walked over to the chair. He stared at it in silence for several minutes. “Has he really told you nothing?” Oliver didn’t move his eyes from the chair.

  “About what?”

  “About Mr. Chester and the plans for Harriet?”

  “No,” Lizzie shook her head as it started to muddle again with blurred shapes and sounds.

  “What do you remember? About her?”

  “I remember running into the Harris’ yard and hiding behind the hedges. I remember you coming out of the shadows and …” she stood up slowly. “I remember that I loved you.”

  Oliver grasped her hand and pulled her into another kiss. She felt the cloud of her mind dissolve as the warmth of his kiss provoked her own. The room spun into another reality. The lamps were lit by flames. The wallpaper had no water stains or cracks. The wood on the bedposts glowed with a fresh sheen of oil.

  Lizzie pulled herself away from Oliver. A quiet voice in her thought about closing up the museum, but she ignored it as Oliver took apart the buttons of her sweater and unhooked her bra. She felt his hand press against her left breast. He grinned as he felt her heart pound through her skin. He kissed her again and moved his hands to the waist of her skirt, slowly sliding it over her hips as he lowered in front of her. She became aware of the cold when he removed her stockings but resisted the urge to shudder as she watched him slowly undress. She saw the muscle she imagined, that she knew from all those meetings in the shop. He was exactly as she knew he would be. Tall and strong. The scar at his side was worn and faded, but still noticeable. He came back towards her and kissed her warmly. She pressed against him for the heat she felt escaping her body. He moved his hands down along her back and behind her hips as he pushed her towards the bed. He lay down with her and slowly began his rhythm. She breathed in deeply, silencing herself for fear that Charlotte – not Charlotte- would hear in the next room. She arched her back and turned her neck as the sensation warmed her spine. She felt his breath move to the base of her shoulder and the slight prick of fangs as the sensation flooded through her brain and the blood pumped out from the veins of her neck.

  His body warmed on top of her, diminishing the cold drafts of Harriet’s room. She pulled the warmth closer to her as he moved away from the inside of her shoulder and rested his head against her beating heart. She saw the gleam of the oiled bed posts before she closed her eyes and everything in front of her blurred…

  There was no moon as she walked around the path to the front of the house. There was a candle burning in the kitchen. Annie was still awake. Would she notice the creak of the front door? She tucked her loose hair under the cap and checked her apron strings. Someone took her hand away from her back and turned her around.

  He was in shadow, but even in the darkness she could see the green of his eyes. She wanted to move away from him. She felt badly indulging him, indulging herself after visiting Tom. After the decision Tom made to leave Boston. She couldn’t resist as he pulled her lips towards his.

  “Lily,” he whispered her name as no one else ever had, with respect and admiration. Not to call an order or refer to her as some sort of pet.

  “I don’t have much time,” she pulled away from him. “She will be back soon.”

  “I know,” he kissed her again.

  She didn’t want to stop. She didn’t want to go back into the stuffy room with Harriet. She wouldn’t be able to sleep. Not after his kiss. Not after another complication to her escape. “I have to go inside,” she attempted weakly.

  “You don’t have to do anything, Lily. They don’t own you,” he pressed his forehead against hers.

  “Stop,” she put her hands around his and stepped back from him. “I don’t want you to hurt them. I don’t want you to… please take her away and go.”

  “You don’t want me to go.”

  “I am going to Kentucky with Tom.”

  “You don’t want to go to Kentucky. You want to go to Prussia and Turkey and France. I can take you there, Lily.”

  “She won’t let that happen.”

  “I told you there is a way,” he rested his hands against the sides of her face. “I can make you like her, like me. Then we can be together. We will go to the countries you read about. You will see all those places with me.”

  “But how?” she fought the tears she felt surface in her eyes.

  “I have money.”

  “Without her? What about Harriet?”

  “We shall let Harriet be,” he kissed her forehead. She looked up and saw the green visible in the shadows.

  “What if she tries to stop us?”

  “She won’t,” he caressed her cheek. “She has Horace’s fortune. She has what she wanted.”

  “She won’t have me.”

  “She has others. You know she has…”

  “Will it hurt?”

  “No,” he kissed her again.

  “Will I become like her? Will I be cruel and … will I be a monster?”

  The green eyes looked at her. “You will never be her,” he touched her brow. “You have a heart that is full of love, Lily. You will not be a monster.”

  She rested her head against his shoulder as he pulled her into an embrace. “Will you love me?” she asked into his ear.

  “I will always love you,” he kissed her again.

  Lizzie shook with the cold and sat up suddenly. “I have to finish closing,” she looked for the clothing on the floor.

  “We can go somewhere,” Oliver stood behind her and turned her back into his kiss. Lizzie couldn’t resist and let him touch her lips again. She was still somewhere between awake and dreaming. She saw the image of shadows outside the front door and felt the movement of her mouth. She wasn’t sure how many minutes passed before she pulled away.

  “I have to get Ben at the airport.”

  “Oh,” Oliver watched her reassemble her sweater and skirt. She shoved her tights in her pocket and then looked to the historic
bed. The cover was ruffled. She straightened it out and hoped it wasn’t obvious someone had touched the precious furniture. She watched Oliver zip his ski jacket. He was still so handsome and eager to be near her. She turned away and rushed from the room down the servant steps.

  Oliver followed right behind her. Lizzie quickly gathered her things and went to the alarm. She set the code and ushered him out of the building. “Let me get you something to eat,” Oliver touched her back.

  “I have to meet Ben,” Lizzie faced him.

  “You are beautiful.”

  “I’m…” Lizzie felt the sadness overtake her.

  He kissed her again. He stepped back as her breath nearly gave out. “You should go.”

  “Goodbye,” Lizzie turned in the opposite direction. She hastened her speed to a run and let herself cry all the way to the train station.

  *****

  Lizzie went directly to her car when she got to Ben’s apartment. She contemplated going inside for the remaining two hours. She didn’t want to be surrounded by Ben’s things. Maria’s things. Were any of them Lily’s things?

  Lizzie looked at the marks on her neck in the rearview mirror. She thought about getting a turtleneck, but there was no point trying to hide it from Ben. Even if she could justify the distance of one night as punishment for abandoning her on Thanksgiving, she wouldn’t be able to hide it for the weeks it would take the marks to fade. She tied her scarf around her neck and tucked it inside her jacket. It was a temporary solution, at least until they got back to his apartment.

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to hide it. She wanted him to know. She didn’t feel the need to lie about Oliver. Ben should know. Not because Lizzie wanted to be fair to Ben. Because she wanted to be fair to Oliver. She made a conscious choice to accept Oliver – Thomas – back in her life. Is that what she was doing? Hadn’t she made that decision by letting him seduce her and take her blood? Ben chose to stay in Chicago. He chose to put his career before her. He chose to deceive her about Lily.

  Why didn’t he tell her that he knew Lily? That he … loved her. He loved her enough to want to stay with her forever. To make her a vampire. Lizzie kept trying to shake that detail from her mind. Oliver was proof that changing someone into a vampire didn’t necessarily bind them to that person forever. Forever was a long time. But that was Oliver. Ben was more steadfast and determined. He only left the women he loved because they left him by dying. She didn’t want to die. She didn’t know she wanted to leave him. She couldn’t stay. How could she trust him again? How could she not know he was hiding something from her? About her? He said he didn’t know what he should tell her. But to not tell her that he knew Lily, that he loved Lily, that he stole Lily from Oliver and Charlotte, that he wanted to make Lily what he was… that was a heartless attempt to withhold the truth. Why? Why tell her that Lily was in love with Oliver but not him? Why wouldn’t he want Lizzie to know to whom her heart once belonged?

  She didn’t say much at the airport. She let him kiss her cheek, but pretended to focus on the traffic making its way back to the Pike. They drove in silence. She knew he was tired. She knew he knew she was upset. He had no idea about Oliver. No idea at all.

  Ben brought his bags to the bedroom and Lizzie went to the couch in the living room. She glanced to where the vase of white roses used to be. Lily was the reason for white roses. She didn’t know how or why. She knew the roses were for Lily… for her.

  “Do you want to go get some dinner?” Ben asked from the doorway.

  “No,” she set a hard stare on him.

  “You are still in your coat.” Lizzie took off her coat, but kept the scarf tied around her neck. “You are angry with me,” he sighed heavily. “I don’t blame you. I… I know this weekend was important to you.”

  Lizzie looked away from him. She didn’t want his false sympathy. If he was really sincere, he would have been there. He wouldn’t have made another choice. He preferred to be with other vampires and not at the eating frenzy of a bunch of regular humans.

  “Are we going to talk about this?” he sat beside her and took her hand. She pulled it back and hid it under the cushion beside her hip.

  “Oliver came to see me.”

  Ben turned away and let out a cool breath. “I thought he might.”

  “What?”

  “I knew he was coming to town to give a lecture.”

  “You knew?”

  “Yes, Elizabeth,” he looked at her not showing any anger or impatience.

  “He came to the Fulton House,” she tried to provoke him.

  “Did he take one of your tours?” his question was almost too light and frothy to be sincere.

  “No, he did that a month ago.”

  “A month?”

  “Halloween. The day you kissed Meghan.”

  “So is this retaliation?”

  Lizzie fingered the ends of her scarf. She looked back at Ben. “He told me things about the house and the Fultons…”

  “And Lily.”

  “Things you wouldn’t tell me.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  Lizzie let out a breath and walked behind the couch towards the empty table under the mirror. “Do you know they found Melissa Benson’s body?”

  “No,” Ben let his confusion show.

  “They are pretty sure she fell into the brook and drowned,” Lizzie watched his brief distraction from focusing on her.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it must make her family sad.”

  “But relieved to know what happened,” Lizzie hardened her jaw. “Oliver helped find the body. He probably could have found her seventeen years ago, but he didn’t want them to see the fang marks on her. He didn’t want any suspicion to come near the Cottingham household.”

  “That doesn’t make him any less guilty.”

  “He didn’t kill her.”

  “I never said he did, Elizabeth,” he went behind the couch to face her. “You were the one who made that conclusion.”

  “You didn’t stop me. You didn’t want me to … you wanted to keep him from me.”

  “Did I stop him from going to the Fulton House to take your tour?”

  “No,” Lizzie felt her anger muddle with confusion.

  “Did he tell you how he killed Lily?”

  “He showed me where she… I died,” Lizzie’s voice cracked.

  “And you still think he is someone you can trust and feel safe with?”

  “No more than you,” she turned away from him.

  “How many times have you seen him?” Ben asked slowly, still not letting any anger into the tone of his voice.

  “He took me to lunch and I went to his lecture. Then we went to the Science Museum. Today he came back to the house,” Lizzie stared at a window across the street decorated with red Christmas tree lights.

  “I’m glad he was able to answer your questions about the Fultons and Lily.”

  “I had a dream, Ben,” she turned to face him again and let the hardness return to her eyes. “A very vivid dream about Lily. You were there. You kissed her. You…” her breath quickened as she tried to form the words. “You told her you were going to make her like you.”

  Ben stopped his breath and softened his eyes. “You remembered?”

  “You didn’t tell me you were a part of Lily’s life.”

  “I didn’t… I wanted you to remember that.”

  “What?”

  “Then I would know that…” Ben stepped closer to her.

  “What?”

  “You remembered that?” he looked at her hopefully. “He didn’t tell you?”

  “No,” Lizzie shook her head in disbelief. “You wanted to change her. You wanted to drink her blood and feed it back to her so that you could be with her forever.”

  “Yes,” he nodded and smiled.

  “Is that what you want to do to me?”

  “I… Elizabeth, this isn’t,” he shut his eyes, struggling
. He hadn’t fed. “I think about that. But I would never… ask that of you.”

  Lizzie closed her eyes to let the tears fall. She felt Ben come close and pull her into an embrace. She resisted, but couldn’t summon enough energy to push him away. She didn’t let her arms respond and stood lifeless in his hold. He pulled away and smiled at her. He smoothed down the sides of her hair, tracing a few fingers along her cheek to wipe away her tears. “I don’t want that,” she breathed through a sob.

  “No,” Ben caressed her hair again.

  She raised her tear stained eyes to his. “It’s all because of you.”

  “What?” he dropped his hands and stepped back.

  “You made that promise to Lily. She accepted it and Charlotte found out. Then she took,” Lizzie paused on a thought she couldn’t tell if it was her own. “She took Oliver’s life. He didn’t know anything. You destroyed him. You made him into the monster that you say he is.”

  “Oliver made his choice.”

  “He wouldn’t have had that choice if you didn’t want Lily. Charlotte would never have found Lily if it wasn’t for you,” Lizzie heard the last sentence echo in her brain. She didn’t understand what made her say that. Was it the irrationality of her anger? Or was it something else she couldn’t remember?

  She went back to the couch. She felt the itch of the wool at her throat and ripped off her scarf before dropping her head into her hands. She wanted a drink. She wanted to not be there, having that conversation. She wanted her life back, her thoughts back to her own. Being so close to Ben wasn’t a comfort. It made it all worse. She looked at him standing over her, hesitating whether or not to offer his hand.

  He bent his knees and came to her eye level. “Lily made me want to be human again.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Ben couldn’t mask the struggle of what to say. He moved her hair from where it stuck to tears on her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. He moved his hand away from her slowly. She saw a strange sneer and the hint of his fangs very briefly. Lizzie sat straight against the sofa, knowing he saw the bite marks on her neck.