by Jessie Olson
“Lizzie.”
She turned around quickly. Oliver was standing in the doorway. She leaned back over the chair and clicked out of the internet. She returned her attention and smiled at him. “Thanks for driving me home.”
“Do you want to get something to eat? You must be famished.”
“I ate something in the tent. Maybe later,” she smiled, uncertain if she should be alarmed he walked up to her room with no invitation.
“Charlotte knew.”
“What?”
“She knew before… she knew even before Ben went to her. She could… you can taste it in the blood.”
Lizzie let herself lean against the back of her desk chair. “When did she tell you?”
“It was a stupid fight. We always fought about ridiculous things. This time she was determined to win and told me what she was saving for decades. She told me that Lily was pregnant. She wanted me to feel… she wanted to undermine my confidence and tell me I killed my own child.”
Lizzie bit her lip, unable to stop the tears from forming in her eyes. It was one thing to think that in the quiet of her mind. To hear it articulated in Oliver’s voice made the pain of it very real.
“Ben told her Lily was sneaking out to see me. She already knew about me. Lily told her. She didn’t think that Lily loved me enough to…” he clenched his jaw. “… to actually leave the Fultons. Then she tasted the estrogen. She knew Lily would want to be a mother more than a source.”
“So Charlotte punished Lily and went after you.”
“And she punished Ben with the belief that he was responsible.”
“Did she know about Ben?”
“Charlotte wasn’t a fool. After Ben told her about us, she figured out he was still in love with her. He could have saved her,” Oliver muttered confusing Lizzie again. “He didn’t love her enough.”
“What else did she tell you?” Lizzie asked, uncertain about his last comments.
“Nothing. I was so angry I stabbed her in the heart. The heart she really didn’t have.”
Lizzie gulped a big swallow of air. He was so emotionless and cold as he explained that last detail. She heard him describe her death filled with remorse. She saw the repentance in his eyes when she confronted him about other fatalities of his vampire life. But none struck her with as much heartlessness as his description of Charlotte. “But you loved her.”
“It was a lie. It was all part of her wickedness. She never cared anything for me. She kept me because she always thought Lily would come back. She believed Lily would come back to me. She wanted to cause her heartache and pain, as she felt for Lily. She believed in the end Lily would take my life as I took hers. But she thought she could take away her happiness first.”
“She’s not here now,” Lizzie thought how she managed to take away her own happiness without any help from the ghost of a vampire.
Oliver heaved a deep sigh and sat on the edge of her bed. “I didn’t believe Lily was coming back to me. I hated her so much. Even though I mourned her death, I believed she died loving someone else. She loved Ben more. She loved Charlotte more. I didn’t think she really loved me until Charlotte told me about the baby. Until I found out she left Ben and wanted to marry me to start a family. Then you were at Springs… and I could finally remember the part of Lily that made me happy.”
“Why didn’t you say anything at Springs?”
“Because of Eloise.”
“Eloise,” Lizzie whispered, annoyed that Eloise even existed. What did she have to do with anything?
“But … these past few months. You remembered. You remembered me. You didn’t remember the baby. I thought… I thought that meant that Lily forgave me.”
“Forgave you?”
“I saw the hate in her eyes. Right before she kissed me. She knew what I did. I was too driven by instinct. I took her blood. I didn’t understand any of the rules. I didn’t… she offered herself to me. She knew what would happen. She wanted me to kill her.”
“Do you still hate her?”
“I was angry that she could leave this hell. But she came back. You left Ben and came back to me.”
Lizzie swallowed, unable to say anything to validate that opinion. She still wanted Ben. She didn’t understand why Oliver was there. She knew she owed it to him… to give him Lily’s forgiveness. But she wasn’t… she wasn’t going back to him. “What about Eloise?”
“Why don’t you remember her?”
“I don’t know… but I must be. There are things from that time I know that I shouldn’t know.”
“You don’t remember how she died?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Lizzie felt herself squirm with that answer. Was she supposed to remember? Why did only Lily return to her thoughts?
“That was a lost opportunity to make things right. But now,” he walked to her. “Now I can do that. I don’t believe what Charlotte said will happen. She was so full of hate and vengeance, she didn’t understand forgiveness. She didn’t understand the beauty of our longevity is that we evolve and improve. We don’t have to stay monsters. Our power can be used for good. We can find redemption.”
Lizzie stared up at the tears in his eyes. He was the same strong, unbelievably beautiful Oliver. The beauty came from his vulnerability. From the humanity within him. She didn’t see the vampire any longer. She saw the young wheelwright who was given the time and decades to improve his luck in the world. Not just for himself, but those around him. But even with that power and limitless time, he still had the weakness of a human heart. The need to be loved by the one he loved at the beginning.
She saw what Lily saw. The sweet boy for whom she would have given everything to raise a family. The boy to whom she could say anything, with whom she was at ease without any effort - who was willing to give up everything to be with her. He gave up his life when he believed he couldn’t have her. He was forced into that position by the one Lizzie thought she loved. The one she let herself forgive. Why? He didn’t care. He wasn’t there. He disappeared into the shadows and faded out of her life. He didn’t try to come back to her. Oliver was there at the finish line. He was the one who wanted her.
Why did Ben try to keep him away from her? The question faded as she focused on Oliver’s sad eyes. She saw the echo of her sadness and ache for love. He loved her. He loved her forever. “Thomas,” she whispered and stood strong on the strength of her calves to meet his kiss. He lifted her off the floor and landed her on the bed. She felt the swim of her exhausted senses as her head rolled against the pillow. She asked herself again why Ben didn’t call. Why he wasn’t there. She closed her eyes and didn’t stop as Oliver slowly came down to the bed with her.
He rested his head against her chest. She let the breaths plunge into her stomach and made her ribcage rise and fall under the weight of him. Her mind was in a different place as he touched her. She was too tired to think and remember the 26 miles that exhausted her limbs and made her throat dry with thirst. Everything from her morning - from Hopkinton to Meg and Nora at Heartbreak Hill to the crowd at the finish line - left her mind. She kept thinking she had to get home. She had to be there before everyone woke up. She felt his nerves, his clumsy hunger. The depth of emotion in his kiss. Thomas would always love her, no matter what she did. He would always forgive her. He would always be there for her. Even if she didn’t love him.
He lifted his smile and indulged a kiss on her lips before going back to lean against her heartbeat. Even through her dress she knew he felt the healthy rhythm. He took her hand and interlocked his fingers through hers. “Children don’t matter if there is eternity,” he brought her hand to her lips.
She let him hold her hand there, against his kiss. She didn’t know if that was endearing or startling. Her senses were too tired. He moved his mouth away from her palm towards her wrist. He paused, looking at her veins through the translucence of her white skin. Lizzie touched his cheek with the tips of her fingers, but he stayed focused
on the interior of her wrist. “You can give me life,” he kissed her arm.
All too quickly, he lifted his head and shifted his concentration from her wrist to the inside of her neck. “I could…” he breathed against her shoulder. The instinct thrilled her and then memory froze her. She felt the tips of his fangs and the sensation of her blood rushing towards her shoulder. She lifted her hands and attempted weakly to push him off. He was too strong, too powerful, too intoxicated to notice.
“Oliver,” she whispered but her voice was too tired and weak. He stayed at her neck. It was too long. It was too long. He was draining her. She felt the strength of her eyelids wane. She tried her hands against his shoulders again. He was locked into drinking. She shut her eyes and felt herself fall backward. In the fade to darkness she saw the green eyes watching her, waiting for her. She forced her eyes open and managed to summon the strength to jerk her legs and shift to her side.
Oliver rose and looked down at her. She could see the blood on the corner of his mouth. “It’s bad blood.”
“Lily,” he looked down at her hungrily.
“No,” she sat up, feeling very, very weak. “I’m not…”
She saw the fear in his eyes slowly melt into a different expression she had never seen. It was hunger and madness and illness. Lizzie wanted to shut her eyes, but was energized by a fear that crept from her stomach and inched out to the edges of her fingers. “Leave,” she couldn’t breathe. Her heart was beating too quickly. Something was wrong. Very. Very wrong.
“I can fix this,” he tried to take her hand.
She couldn’t look at him. It required too much effort. She needed her phone. “Get out of here,” she managed the words between her struggled breaths. She found the strength to go back to the desk. She saw him leave as she heaved the next huge gulp of air to pick up the phone. She found Ben’s number and pressed send.
Lizzie felt a cloud come over her and faded out of the moment. She saw Lily’s body crumpled on the floor of Harriet’s room. Benjamin came in and saw her body. He turned her over and leaned to feel the breath coming from her lips. He bit his wrist and let the blood drop from the veins. He held it to Lily’s immobile lips and stopped. He let her head gently down and forced himself to stand. He walked away and faded into the cloud.
Lizzie opened her eyes weakly. She was extremely thirsty. And sleepy. The sleep was warm and comfortable. She wanted to go back to the cloud, back to the Fulton House. Back to Lily.
“Elizabeth,” a voice whispered in her ear. “Elizabeth!”
Lizzie fought against her eyes opening again. She wanted to go in front of the fire in the kitchen. It was more comfortable there. There was a pitcher of water she could drink and listen to Annie sing songs while she made stew.
“Elizabeth,” Ben called. Lizzie looked through a gauzy film at his sheer green eyes. She felt something sharp stab into her arm. She was cold. Very, very cold. She needed her petticoat. No. It was April. She wanted some water. She really wanted some water. She couldn’t feel her legs. Her legs were so tired. She was running, running, running all the way to Fulton House. Away from the Fulton House and green wallpaper and Gerard Fulton talking about a chair. She was running, running, running back to her warm comfortable bed. Hearing Ben’s voice telling her it was going to be okay.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Lizzie opened her eyes. Her senses adjusted slowly to the beep of a machine and the feel of something attached to her arm. She inhaled the sterile aroma of the hospital as the room took shape. She lifted an arm with a tube taped to her wrist. Something moved out of the shadows. “Lizzie,” Meg stood from her chair. “You’re awake.”
“What happened?” Lizzie’s voice cracked with dryness.
“Ben said you were dehydrated and anemic.”
“Ben?”
“Yeah,” Meg smiled. “He came right away when you called him… at least that’s what he said. You don’t remember?”
“It’s kind of fuzzy,” Lizzie tried to see if there was anyone else in the room. The bed next to her was empty and lit only by the street lights outside.
“I didn’t call your parents. Ben and the doctor said you were going to be fine. That you just needed rest. I figured I would wait until you woke up. I didn’t want your mom to freak out.”
“No, that’s… that’s good,” Lizzie managed a smile. “Where is Ben?”
“He had to make some calls to his office,” Meg offered a knowing look. “He only left after I promised to stay here with you.”
Lizzie sat herself up, again feeling the tubes and wires attached to her. She realized a wire was conveniently taped along her neck. She felt as though moving from horizontal to vertical was as challenging as 26 miles.
“How long have you been here?” she looked for a clock.
“A half hour,” Meg beamed again. “Although I’ve been in the hospital all afternoon.”
“What?”
“Nora had her baby girl.”
“She did?” the smile let her forget the other obvious details of the moment.
“Rose Emily,” Meg explained. “Nora’s water broke as we were walking back to the apartment.”
“Did Ben call you?”
“I saw him in the hallway. I came to get a cup of coffee for Mark. Ben explained that you fainted and were here under observation.”
“What else did he say?’
“Just that you need a lot of rest and fluids. I think they are going to keep you here overnight. I can stay if you want.”
“That’s okay, Meg,” Ben said from the doorway. “I’ll stay with her.”
Meg looked at Lizzie for approval. Lizzie nodded her head mutely. Meg looked toward Ben and stepped back from the bed. “Then I am going to get one last look at Rose and go home. Call if you need anything, Lizzie. I can give you a ride tomorrow… if you need one.”
“Thanks,” Lizzie watched her leave the room. Ben lingered in the doorway and stepped closer to the bed. “Meg said you told her I was dehydrated and anemic.”
“You were,” he breathed out as he took the chair from the shadows and brought it closer to her side.
“But… there is more.”
“You had a transfusion, Elizabeth. Your blood loss didn’t result in anything worse than dehydration and anemia.”
“It could have been worse.”
“Much worse.”
“Thank you for… coming and getting me…” she looked down, wondering how on earth he got her to Mt. Elm and was able to explain her blood loss or the wounds in her neck.
“I’m glad you called me,” he took her fingers and held onto her hand. She saw his green eyes, but was too weak to let her mind think about all the images of those eyes since December. She wanted to ask him so many questions. She wanted to say so many things. She was glad he was there beside her, after wanting his presence for so long. She wished it wasn’t a hospital. She wished that it wasn’t because Oliver…
“I’m … I’m sorry I let this happen.”
Ben let go of her hand and folded it back against her stomach. “You need rest, Elizabeth. You should try to go back to sleep.”
“I just woke up.”
“You aren’t well,” he sat back in his chair.
“No,” she clenched her jaw and felt the anger drain a lot of energy. “I have to tell you…”
“You don’t have to tell me anything.”
“I saw you. When I was… I suppose I was unconscious… I saw you with Lily. I never saw Lily before. But I saw her dark curly hair and her pale skin. You were there. You had the opportunity to save her life at the end. You could have made her a … like you and had her with you forever. But you didn’t. You let her go. You let her die.”
Ben locked his eyes on her. They revealed no emotion. Just frozen but rapt attention. “You loved her enough to let her go,” Lizzie allowed herself to relax into the tears. “You weren’t… you weren’t a monster.”
He touched the hand he left on her stomach briefly before w
alking to the window on the darkened side of the room. His focus was not on her but whatever was happening outside the window – on the Charles River.
“I… a month ago I dreamt about the thunderstorm after the wedding. I’ve had so many vivid dreams, Ben. I saw you in the Fultons’ kitchen,” Lizzie said to make him turn his eyes back to her. She wasn’t sure if she was going to tell him what she did to prompt one of those dreams. She wanted him to know she saw him. She saw the monster and the man that loved Lily. Now she knew which one survived her death.
He finally turned his eyes back to her and let out a quiet sigh. “You really should get some rest now, Elizabeth. Even if you don’t sleep, it is important that you don’t use too much energy.”
She lowered her eyes away from him, feeling the sting of his refusal to discuss these very important images. “Ben…”
“I’ll be here,” he insisted and looked back to the river. “You don’t need to worry. I think we should just… you must try to sleep.”
Lizzie relented and lowered herself back against her pillows. In spite of the frustration, she closed her eyes and felt the wave overcome her. It was a deep, deep sleep. She knew she was dreaming, but the images embedded themselves in the dark corners of her memory as she moved to the next one. She felt she should wake a few times, but told herself it wasn’t important and let her mind roll into another wave of sleep. Finally, the brightness seeped under her eyelids and was unable to disappear into the darkness. She felt the wane of an emotion… a happy emotion, but the circumstance of the dream that prompted it was gone as soon as she opened her eyes.
She heard the soft click of a keyboard as she adjusted her eyes. Ben sat on the empty bed. He saw her open eyes and closed the laptop. “How long have you been here?” she brought herself to sitting. It was still an effort, but not as traumatic as the night before.
“It’s just after three. You slept through the morning,” he smoothed the hair across her forehead.
“I was tired.”
“Yes,” he looked at the machines to which she was wired. “I’m sure they will take you off the saline. Then we can get you some dinner.”
