by Jen Kirchner
I dropped the keys to the Audi on the counter, hugged Mom and Dad goodnight, and slipped out. The gravel-lined alley was dark and empty, and the buildings muffled the shouts and sirens. I walked to the end of the path where it met the street.
Mikelis was standing at the front of the building, concealed by a shadow. One elbow was propped high against the brick and his forehead rested in his palm. Another one of his non-expressions was plastered to his face, though his eyes wandered back and forth over the damage.
As I approached, he straightened, making his posture rigid and defensive. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. I was so taken aback by the difference in his demeanor that I forgot to apologize for blowing up his neighborhood.
“Let’s go,” he said, and turned away.
I followed him to a concealed side street where his Camry was parked. He held the passenger door but still wouldn’t look at me. As we were driving away, putting the flashing lights of police cars and fire trucks behind us, I remembered to apologize.
“I’m sorry. I had no idea you owned the neighborhood. When I found my uncle, I was upset.”
He gave me a sideways glance.
“Okay, I was more than upset. I was crazy with anger and pain and...” I wiped my sweaty, dirt-crusted bangs out of my face. “I’ve never felt like that before. I just reacted.”
He nodded his head, a curt bob. “I understand.”
He seemed sincere, but he still wouldn’t look at me. Mikelis, of all people, had to understand my reaction to tonight’s events. Long ago, when his family had been murdered, he had done the same thing, and to a greater degree. Maybe it was something else I had done that upset him?
I replayed the night in my head. He seemed fine when he left my house. I went to bed, found my uncle, and took Henri hostage in the coffee shop. As my mind replayed the conversation in the basement, it finally dawned on me. Someone must have told Mikelis what I had shouted at Henri.
I blurted, “I don’t think you’re a soul-sucking demon.”
Mikelis’s lips pursed slightly. His eyes flickered to me, then back to the road.
Bingo.
“I’m sure you’ve said things you didn’t mean when you were upset. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”
We pulled up to a stoplight. He jammed the gear shift into park and turned toward me suddenly, startling me. His inexpressive façade disintegrated.
“We don’t drain human souls! You get your energy back naturally from eating and sleeping, but we have to get it externally—yes, from humans! If our blood stops moving, we die.”
A car behind us honked its horn, drawing our attention back to the road. The light had turned green. Mikelis put the car in drive and hit the gas, plunging through the intersection.
“And we aren’t demons,” he grumbled. “We’re people.”
“I know. I hadn’t seen The Change before and it freaked me out. I mean, I had guessed that’s what it was like, but…” I caught myself before cringing. The thought of my uncle on his kitchen floor was forever burned in my memory. “Seeing it firsthand took me by surprise.”
I could feel him staring at me out of the corner of his eye. “You don’t ever think about The Change and yet you keep those vials in your basement?”
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “No, I don’t think about it. Once I drink that… that stuff, there’s no going back.” I sucked in a deep breath, realizing I was angry about the vials. “It’s not like anyone asked us if we wanted the vials in the first place. They were just given to us without explanation. So when I saw my uncle…”
I threw up my hands, searching for the words to describe how I felt when I saw Uncle Rick lying on the floor, a victim of Ruairí O’Bryne and the aggressive disease called immortality. The words escaped me. Nothing matched how I felt.
Mikelis finished my sentence for me. His voice was soft. “Everything you had been trying not to think about suddenly became real.”
I dropped my hands back into my lap and stared into the early morning mist swirling in the glow of the headlights. “Yeah.” I exhaled a long, slow breath. “I need to check on my uncle. Can you take me back to his house?”
“They’ve moved him to Marcus’s apartment. He’s fine, but he’ll sleep until his body finishes changing. He’s lucky that Henri attacked him and not someone lower.”
I snapped upright in my seat and glared at him. “Excuse me?”
He shot me another sideways glance. “There’s a lot you should know about Immortal society. The magic in our blood dilutes every time it’s passed to another body. Being closer to the Fathers on the lineage tree is better. Anyone fifth generation or later is seen as...” His voice trailed off. “Lesser. More human. They’re our version of lower caste.”
I clasped my hands in my lap to keep them from trembling. “What’s my uncle?”
“Fifth generation, like me. Barely acceptable.”
“Who made you immortal?”
“Luucas did.”
My mouth fell open. “And you’re still friends?”
“We agreed. It was the only way I could sacrifice Ruairí’s cronies without killing myself in the process. There was no one higher on the lineage tree available to Change me, so I had to take what I could get.” He offered a small smile. “Not that anyone else would have been willing to help me, since I’m fourth channel.”
I shook my head, unsure of how to respond.
“That’s why I own so much property, Kari. I rent cheap business space to immortals who are seen as lesser. Owning a business gives them dignity and purpose they wouldn’t normally have. I own the apartment building I live in and I rent out the lower floors to immortals who need a leg up. It’s my own way of flipping off proper society.”
I slouched in my seat. “So I just blew up your ‘Good Samaritan’ project?”
“Yeah.”
Damn.
We drove back to my house in silence and pulled up to the garage door, triggering the light. Mikelis shut off the engine and turned to me.
“If you drink those vials, everyone will respect you. That’s probably why the Fathers gave them to you.”
“What do you mean, ‘respect’ me?”
“I mean they’d be afraid of you. The Fathers aren’t like the rest of us.” His eyes drifted away from my face as he searched for the words. “They’re stronger. Faster. Primal. The rest of us are only shadows of what they are. We call conservators and the Council our law, but really it’s the Fathers. If you drink that vial, no one will bother you ever again. You’ll be like them.”
I stared at him for a minute, dumbfounded. “Wait a minute. You want me to drink it?”
He nodded. “The Fathers want to protect you. So do I.” He was looking at me very intently, almost pleading. I realized just how determined he was. “I’ll stay with you while you sleep. You’re not very old—it won’t take your body long to Change.”
I blinked. “Right now? I can’t drink it now; I’m about to go on tour. I have to stand on stage under a powerful spotlight. Immortals can’t stand in spotlights, Mikelis. I’d go blind!”
“Wear goggles.”
“My parents don’t even know about the vials!”
“I’ll tell them while you’re asleep. They’ll understand.”
I was pretty sure they wouldn’t. “I’m not ready! I haven’t planned for this!”
“Not many do,” he said. “The Immortal State is really just a support group for everyone affected by immortality.”
I stared at him, unsure of how to respond. If he was trying to sell me on the idea, he was taking this topic in the wrong direction.
He must have realized his mistake, because he took both of my hands in his. “I didn’t mean it quite like that. It’s not as bad as I make it out to be.”
Not as bad? Was he kidding? “If I drink it, will you be afraid of me, too?”
“No. I’m either too stubborn or too stupid to be afraid of anything anymore.” A smile cracked the corner of his mo
uth. “Maybe I should be.”
I shook my head slightly and sat back, leaning against the seat. “This is a little much after everything that’s happened today. Ruairí knows about me, my mom’s going nuts, and Stubby and I just blew up your street.”
That was fun!
“I need to think it over,” I said.
I read disappointment on his face, but he didn’t push me. He released my hands, reached up, and cupped both sides of my face. “Just don’t leave the house until you decide.”
I wasn’t going to promise anything, but before I could say so, he leaned close and pressed his lips against mine. I forgot about The Change and Ruairí and even where I was until Stubby fell out of my lap onto the floor.
Hey!
We reluctantly pulled away.
“I don’t want to lose you, Kari.”
“I’ll still be here tomorrow. I promise.”
He nodded. I opened the car door, grabbed Stubby, and slid out. Just before I shut the door, I paused and bent down.
“Hey,” I said. “We’re even for what you did to my kitchen.”
“Damn right, we are.”
For the rest of the night, I tossed and turned, plagued by thoughts of Uncle Rick and the Styx. Around six o’clock, I decided sleep was a useless venture, rolled out of bed, and stumbled into the shower.
I dressed comfortably for a hard day down in the lab, tiptoed past the guest room where my parents were sleeping, and went downstairs to face the inevitable. Coincidentally, the inevitable was waiting for me on the couch, feet up on the coffee table, arms folded across his chest, and glowering. He was wearing the same clothes he had on last night. A coffee cup with a thick, dark ring around the inside told me he had been waiting a long time. Crap.
“Sit,” Luucas ordered.
I sat on the far edge of the couch, close to the door, in case I needed to make a run for it.
“Which part of ‘call me if there’s an emergency’ and ‘don’t leave the house’ wasn’t clear? What if Ruairí had been waiting for you?” I opened my mouth to answer, but he shouted at me before I could get a word in. “I’ll tell you—we wouldn’t be having this conversation, because you’d be with Ruairí getting fattened up like a magical turkey!”
“But he’s close,” I insisted. “We can find him.”
The crease in his brow deepened and he shook his head. “There’s no ‘we’, Kari. It’s going to take finesse, an attribute in which you are severely lacking.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It was only a matter of time before the Styx blew up Uncle Rick, and Luucas was asking me to sit and do nothing? “We don’t have time for finesse—my uncle could be killed within days! Talk to Henri! He has to know where Ruairí is.”
“Henri doesn’t know, but we’re working on it. In the meantime, I don’t want you going anywhere. Do you understand?”
“What about my uncle?”
The anger in his voice dissipated and was replaced with calm professionalism. I was no longer talking to my roommate; I was talking to the Principal Conservator of the Eastern Americas. I wanted to kick him.
“We’re doing all we can, as quickly as we can. I’m actually leaving here to investigate some leads.” He pushed the coffee cup away and stood. “Why don’t I take you to pick up your car? We can stop for coffee on the way and grab some breakfast. You’ll feel better after you eat.”
I knew I wouldn’t feel better about the situation, but I was pretty hungry. “Okay.”
He turned away and headed down the hall. Halfway down, he called back, “And while we’re in the car, we can talk about your community service.”
“You aren’t serious!” I shrieked.
He walked back to the living room. His stern look had returned with him. “You attacked a conservator and destroyed property belonging to immortals. I’ve spoken with Mikelis about pressing charges—”
I shrieked again. “What?”
“—and he’s declined to do so.”
“He blew up my kitchen!”
“I saw your kitchen. Believe me, he got the worse deal.” He lifted an amused eyebrow. “By the way, that twenty foot wall of fire that spread half a block but didn’t burn anything was a nice touch.”
I felt my face redden. “I didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”
He pointed a finger at me. “And that’s why you’re getting off with community service.”
“How long is it going to last?”
“As long as I think it should.” He paused. “You’re going to make The Change someday, right?”
“Why? So I can be your slave for all eternity?”
As he turned away, I caught a smile forming on his lips. “I like the sound of that.”
TWENTY-FOUR
Luucas dropped me off at my car. He waited for me to get in and put my bracelet on, then followed me out. We went opposite directions on the highway; Luucas took the exit heading west and I went east. I didn’t remember him saying where he was going. Then again, I was so angry that I hadn’t listened to anything he said on the drive over.
As soon as I had merged onto the highway, my phone rang. I fished it out of my purse and activated the speaker. “Hi Moons,” I said. “You’re up early.”
“After the first three millennia, you sleep less,” he quipped, “especially after an exciting evening.”
Exciting? That definitely isn’t the word I would have used. There was an uncomfortable pause as if he expected me to respond.
“Are you driving?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Are you alone?”
“My bracelet’s on.”
“Ah.” He sounded thoughtful, almost stumped, but quickly regrouped. “Eliana, I understand you are upset. After Mikelis drove you home, he returned to explain why you reacted so severely to your uncle’s attack.”
Through the bracelet’s telepathic link, I noticed Dad setting his newspaper aside, suddenly very interested in this conversation.
“He explained in front of my parents?” I asked.
“Yes. They now know about the vials.”
No wonder Dad was all ears.
Moons continued, “I think you should come over so Ashur and I can apologize and, of course, answer all of your questions. Anything you wish to know, we vow to tell you truthfully.”
It was a nice gesture, but I just wasn’t in the mood. “I appreciate that, Moons, but I can’t today. I have to figure out a way to save Uncle Rick.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. Luucas says it’s going to take time to find Ruairí, but my uncle doesn’t have much.”
“Yes, something should definitely be done soon—” Moons’s voice became uncharacteristically sober. “—though it is very important to follow the rules.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He spent most of his time breaking rules and thwarting authority! At the very least, I expected sympathy, if not help.
At the top of my lungs, I started to give him a piece of my mind. “You know what, Moons? That’s the crap—”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized what was going on. Moons was using code. I put both hands on the steering wheel. Moons knew something—why else would he refer to last night as “exciting”? He didn’t want me to follow the rules; he just wanted to play it off because Dad was listening and would stop me from going anywhere.
A tamed eagerness glimmered in his voice. “Yes?”
“Eliana, are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, Dad.”
I swerved across two lanes and cruised onto the next exit ramp. “I’ll come over and we can talk,” I said, hoping my cool tone would keep Dad from becoming suspicious.
Moons’s soothing tone matched mine. “I look forward to it.”
We hung up.
“I’m sorry you had to find out like this, Dad.”
“They had no right to give you those vials at such a young age, but that complaint is for them to hear. My only wish is that
you had not kept it a secret.”
I glided to a stop at a red light and sipped my latte while formulating a response. “Honestly, Dad, we didn’t know what the big deal was about the vials. By the time we started to suspect, I didn’t know how to tell you because we’d had them for so long. I guess I hoped you would bring up The Change, but you never did.”
“You are too young to have to worry about that decision. I was sixty-three when I had my Change.”
“You’ve never told me that before. Grandpa and Moons bring it up twice a year, on my birthday and at Christmas.”
“I will be having a discussion with them to ensure that stops.”
I took another sip of my latte and thought about that. “I think I can tell them myself, Dad. You don’t need to do it for me.”
“I understand. Know that I am always here if you need.”
“I know, Dad. Thanks.”
Grandpa and Moons were staying in their usual rented duplex off of Fast Food Row, in a small cul-de-sac nestled away in the shade. They usually stayed on opposite sides, but Death Radar indicated they were both waiting for me on Grandpa’s side. I parked in the gravel driveway.
Before I even reached the front step, the door opened. Grandpa wore a slick pair of black sunglasses, a blue terry bathrobe—and black running shoes. I tried not to look down in case Dad noticed them too.
He hugged me and invited me in. The house was dimly lit. They had turned on a couple of small side lamps just so I could see. We walked through a sparsely furnished living area to a table where they had put out three coffee mugs… with nothing in them. Moons stood at the dining table wearing leopard sunglasses with lenses so large he looked like an insect. Black and red running shoes peeked out from his floral bathrobe.
Grandpa sat down at the table and placed his hands in his lap. Moons sat down across from him and pretended to drink out of his mug.
“Dad, if you wouldn’t mind, I think I’m going to do this alone.”
“Oh… yes, I understand. Do not let them pressure you into anything. If you would like to talk later…”
“Thanks, Dad.”
I slipped the bracelet off my wrist and dropped it into my purse.
