Infinite Days (26 page)

It took an hour to convince Justin that he needed to go about his day as though I wasn’t there.

“I’ll meet you at your lacrosse practice. In the woods that separate the field from the beach. Just come to the edge. I’ll see you.”

When I finally left that morning, I tried to keep a low profile. I wore one of Justin’s black baseball hats, jeans, and a black T-shirt. Every few moments I touched the outside of my jeans, on my pocket, just to make sure that I still had the ritual tucked away safely. It was six in the morning, so I knew as well as anyone that the campus was basically deserted.

Cherry blossoms dripped off the branches of the trees that lined the pathways. Daisies and tulips grew on every manicured lawn, and the grass was greener than ever. I passed the crowded Wickham greenhouse; it was almost bursting with plants.

While Justin showered and got ready for his day, I had something I needed to see. The art tower at Hopper. It wasn’t that I hadn’t wanted to think of Tony while I was in Hathersage. Quite the contrary. If I thought of him, my focus would have come crashing down, revealing my true intentions to the coven. It was already a struggle not to think about Justin every time I blinked an eye.

I climbed the familiar art studio stairs, running my hand over the banister of the twisting and turning wooden staircase. I looked out the small, square windows with a dull pain in my heart. I stepped quietly. I knew there was a banister beneath my hands, but I could not feel the textured wood or the coolness of the air in the tower. Just that there was air in the stairwell and it entered in and out of my body.

Finally coming to the top of the stairs, I stepped into the art studio doorway. There, across the room, and in the same spot from that winter, was my portrait. I walked toward it and stopped at the other side of the room. Unlike my sense of smell before, which was limited to blood and flesh and occasionally herbs, this time, every smell was heightened. For instance, I could smell every single ingredient in the paints. I could tell just from taking a breath which colors were which. The pine green paint had more ammonia than the red. The brushes smelled clean, like soap. There were exactly 5,564 cracks in the wood of the wall behind the painting. These days the preciseness of my vision and the strength of my smell was too much to take. It was just another pain I had to endure.

I looked over the portrait. It was amazing how accurately Tony had depicted the muscles in my back and the exact curvature of my mouth. And the tattoo on my back, as well. Tony had captured Rhode’s handwriting. My eyelashes, too, and the golden tint of my skin.

Thump thump, thump thump.
Someone was coming up the stairs to the art tower. Because of a lumbering step, I knew that weight on the right side of the body was heavier than the left and remembered Tony’s mismatched boots. He stepped into the doorway.

Tony gasped. I kept my back to him though I turned my face so he could confirm for himself that it was me. I turned back to look at the portrait. He, on the other hand, was staring at the back of me. I could feel the intensity of his gaze. Although the normal human cannot see the vampire aura, they can feel it.

The air was still. The only sound was a rush of the breeze through the open windows. A whir, then silence.

“Rhode Lewin,” I said.

Tony didn’t move.

“He was a fourteenth-century vampire.” I stared at the features of my portrait. “Original member of the Order of the Garter. A ring of knights under Edward the Third.”

Tony walked toward me. After a moment, he was standing beside me and we both stared at the portrait. Neither one of us looked at the other.

“Coined the phrase ‘evil be he who thinketh evil.’ He was the man in the engraving and in the photo. He died in September.”

I looked to my right and met Tony’s eyes. They widened as he searched my face. My vampire appearance must have frightened him—the sealed skin, and the radiating aura. Like a gleaming ghost. The blue of my eyes was like sea glass, hard and flat. Tony swallowed hard and kept his eyes on mine. In this state, in a dark room, my pupils were almost entirely closed like a cat’s in bright sunlight.

I examined Tony’s face for the first time in four months since I saw him slow dancing with Tracy at the winter prom. He looked the same except he had shorter hair and bigger gages in his ear. It made his lobes seem even larger than the size of a quarter.

I looked back to the portrait, this time noticing the slope of my shoulder. Tony had depicted it exactly right. With the small dimple right at the joint of my shoulder. I could feel the energy coming off Tony, his heat, the sudden drops or changes in his body. I wasn’t scaring him at all; he was anxious.

“Rhode once told me that when vampires first came into existence, we really were just corpses filled with blood. Enchanted by whatever black magic curses us.” I paused and looked at Tony again. “But we evolved, as all things do.” We shared a small, comforting smile. There was a beat of silence while I looked over the features of my former self. As I turned to leave, I added, “Who are they to judge the damned?”

Once my back was to him, Tony called, “So that’s it? You’re just gonna leave?”

I turned back to Tony, who remained in front of the portrait.

“I came to tell you the truth, as I should have months ago.”

“Were you a vampire then?”

“No. When I left that night in December, I was remade.”

Tony swallowed. I walked to him, but I could tell that once I was inches from him he was finally afraid. He took a step back, but I placed both hands on Tony’s shoulders and looked directly at his face. “Look at me,” I whispered, allowing my fangs to come down from my mouth. They weren’t long; they were small but deadly.

Tony looked toward the floor.

“
Look
at me,” I repeated.

Tony’s eyes darted from my boots, to the floor, up at my eyes for a fraction of a second, and then back down at the floor.

“You deserved the truth. About me, about Rhode—all of it.” Tony’s eyes, the brown eyes that showed me kindness in moments when I really needed it, looked as though they would spill over with tears.

“You look so different,” was all he could say. He grimaced, likely to prevent himself from crying. He clenched his teeth and his nostrils flared.

“I know.” I sighed.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Tony asked.

“I didn’t know what would happen. You seemed so intent on finding out the truth. It seemed too dangerous.”

“Will you stay?”

“No—I must leave as soon as it’s safe.”

“Where? I’ll come visit.”

A dash of panic surged through me.

“No. No, Tony. I wish it could be. But you have to promise me you won’t go looking for me. Your acquaintance with me will get you killed. I won’t risk that.”

“I want to help you. I want to protect you,” he said, and a tear managed to escape down his cheek. I knew to expect this. I gripped Tony’s shoulders, not hard, just hard enough that he would stop trying to talk.

“Do you not understand! Can I not be more clear? I am here to protect Justin,” I said with urgency, “and myself.”

“Why?”

“I belonged to a coven of vampires. They saw me with Justin at winter prom. I have betrayed them, and now they are on their way here to find me.”

“Here?” Tony’s voice cracked. “To Wickham?”

“Yes. Right now.”

Suddenly, the image of Tony sprawled on the floor, covered in bite marks and drained of all his blood, made my words disappear. I took a moment to formulate my words carefully. “There is no protecting me against them, Tony. You will be killed, and your death—God, I don’t even want to think of it.”

My words seemed to stick in my mouth. The tears, the curse, all of it came up from the pit of my soul. Instead of tears, the fires of hell were coming up into my body. The relief from the tears would never pour down my face. I let go of Tony’s shoulders and bent over. I held my stomach from the pain. That was the curse of the vampire. Punishment for wanting anything more than utter despair.

Once it passed, I stood back up. Tony wiped the tears from his cheeks with his fingertips. I felt a surge through me, to protect Tony. I loved so many things about him: that his fingers were always stained with paint or charcoal; his casual sense of humor and that he was loyal, to the end—even when I had lied so many times. He pursed his lips, highlighting his high and prominent cheekbones.

“This isn’t some secret I’m trying to hide from you,” I said. “This is a dangerous group of men who will be here by nightfall for one purpose. To murder me. I don’t want you in the middle.”

“What are you going to do? How are you going to stop them?”

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve,” I said, and looked to the window when lines of light moved across the dark wooden floor. I looked up at the window. “I must go,” I said.

“But it’s early.” He looked to the window, too.

“The instant the sun rises, it also begins to set. The moment we are born, we begin to die. All of life is a cycle, Tony. When you realize this, that vampires are outside the realm of natural life, you will understand. I’m sorry, but I really must go.”

“I don’t understand. Please stay—”

“I promise you, I will come to you and tell you everything: my birth, my death, and how I ever came to be at Wickham. As long as you promise not to meddle in whatever happens tonight.”

“When will you come back?”

“When you are just old enough to believe that perhaps this was all in your mind.”

“I’ll never forget this,” he said. “I’ll never forget you.” I held Tony’s gaze, and just as I turned to leave, he asked, “Did it hurt? To be remade?”

“This hurts more.”

The corners of Tony’s mouth turned down, and tears ran down his face. I wanted to take his hand, run outside, and suddenly be back in my life.

“You’re still my best friend, Lenah. No matter what happens.”

“I am going to confess something to you,” I said. “I don’t think I’ve even said these words to myself. But I can tell you. Because you’re you.” I smiled again, just for the quickest of moments. The silence gave me strength, propelling my words into the air. “I wish I had never walked out onto that orchard that night”—I took a deep breath just to give myself strength to say the words—“I wish I had died in the fifteenth century as I was meant to. But, instead, I’m here, picking up the pieces.”

Although Tony would never understand what that meant, it didn’t matter. It was irrelevant that he didn’t know the story of my vampire making. Tony understood me, and that’s why I said it. I looked into Tony’s eyes as long as I could before I would have to make small talk. I turned from him and walked down the winding wooden steps and back out into the world.

“Rosemary,” I told the woman behind the herbs and flowers cart. I was on Main Street at about one in the afternoon.

After she bundled the rosemary into a tight bunch, she tied it together by a red ribbon. I took it and walked under the shaded branches of Lovers Bay’s Main Street. Humans walked by me and no one knew, or at least they didn’t behave as though they recognized that I was different. I wore the baseball hat and kept my eyes to the ground.

Once I left the farmers’ market, I checked the position of the sun again, making sure I had enough time before the coven emerged. I started on my way out of the commercial section of Main Street. I headed toward the Lovers Bay cemetery and held the small bundle of rosemary in my left hand. I gripped it tighter, crossed the street, and walked into the cemetery.

It was very quiet, even though cars passed behind me on the street. Some headstones were ornately carved and weathered while others were sleek and modern. I maneuvered through the grassy lanes. My thoughts rolled over Justin’s face, Tony’s promise, and my hope that now, with the ritual in my pocket, I could go back. Maybe…

Even though I’d had the tombstone created long before my hasty departure last winter, I hadn’t seen Rhode’s tombstone myself.
There,
I thought. I walked slowly down the end of the row. Facing me, in the direction of the sweeping grounds, was a horizontal granite slab. It lay directly on the ground and did not stick up like the other headstones nearby. To the right of it was a dense wood filled with thin oak trees. Some of the branches jutted out so far that they dangled over the stone—as though they were protecting it from rain or perhaps direct sunlight.

Rhode Lewin

Date of death: Sept. 1, 2010

“Evil be he who thinketh evil.”

The birds chirped and the wind was light, throwing strands of my hair around my face. My eyes focused on Rhode’s name. An ominous hush fell over my ears, and I knew a vampire was close. That eerie silence. That inherent knowledge that something ancient and dead was nearby. My gaze slowly circled the cemetery. I made sure to keep my hands in my pockets for fear of my new “power.” I scanned the perimeter of the woods again.

Through thick brush and a collection of dense green, Vicken emerged from the trees. Even though I had seen him in modern-day clothing in Hathersage, I was surprised by his contemporary appearance in Lovers Bay; he fit in, with his dark sunglasses and a long-sleeved shirt. No matter the circumstance, his strong shoulders and powerful build made him gorgeous. I looked back at the tombstone as though Vicken’s presence meant no difference to me. He approached me in silence and stood on my right. Together, for one moment, we looked down at Rhode’s grave marker.

The only sounds were the birds chirping and the rustle of the leaves through the wind. Then he said, “So. You’ve come to protect the boy.” I studied the etching on the tombstone, saying nothing. Vicken turned his head to look at me. “That is monstrously stupid.”

Again, I said nothing.

“You know as well as I that despite my every intention, I cannot kill you. Though the coven has come to do just that.”

I turned to meet his gaze. “Then you find yourself at quite an impasse,” I said coolly.

Vicken gritted his teeth.

“You ask me to betray my coven?” he said.

“‘My coven’? ‘
My
coven’? No, you ingrate,” I yelled. “It is
my
coven, born from the darkest of ideas. The lowest of beliefs. And fear.”

“They will murder you. Can you not see? Do you not see what you are doing to me? What you did to me just a few days ago, with that child? Perhaps Rhode’s voodoo set you free from our binding, but not me!”

“I don’t care.”

Now it was Vicken’s turn to yell. “They will kill you, and I will be forced to watch!” Vicken’s voice echoed into the silent, sunny cemetery. “You are still evil then, if you wish such torture on me.”

I said nothing. He was right—about all of it.

“Once upon a time,” he continued, “you told me you would be with me. Always, you said. How quickly you forgot, when Rhode returned. I sat. I waited for you to awaken.”

I nodded, but it was quick. I saw my own reflection in the silver of his sunglasses. “Why are you here?” I asked. “You’re very brave to risk the sunlight.”

“I’m not afraid of that anymore,” Vicken said.

“And the coven?”

“You know they cannot be in the sun.”

The momentary relief that spread throughout me was my realization that if Vicken was here, then he was not with Justin.

“If they will kill me,” I asked, “why have you come?”

“You have two choices. You die by your own hand, or they kill you,” Vicken said calmly.

I looked back at Rhode’s tombstone, still keeping my new and powerful hands in my pockets. “At least I have a choice,” I said, though every syllable was dripping in sarcasm.

Now Vicken turned his body toward me. “I’m trying to make a deal with you, Lenah.”

“Vampires don’t make deals,” I snapped.

“Use the ritual. Make me human and die at your own hand. Or the coven will kill you and the boy. Your death is inevitable. You cannot return to the vampire world.”

I could feel the warmth of the fire within me, the white of the light that now resided inside my soul and the love I had for Rhode, Justin, and, sometime ago, Vicken. I took a deep breath. I wouldn’t let them hurt Justin. Vicken raised his sunglasses, and I looked into his coppery eyes. The truth behind them was familiar to me, and for one moment I understood Vicken completely. We could have been on the fields in Hathersage. I could have been Rhode.

“This humanity you desire cannot be wielded by me. Remember what I told you? The ritual calls for the vampire performing the ritual to be five hundred years old or more.”

“But you are powerful. Perhaps it will work.”

“I do not think so,” I answered.

“Do it, anyway.”

“For someone who claims to love me you give my life up quite freely.”

“They will kill you, anyway.”

“Rhode died for this!” I screamed. We were silent again. “The ritual involves complete self-sacrifice,” I explained. “Do you know what that means?”

“We were lovers once.” Vicken looked at me. Somewhere beneath the shade of darkness, my coven was preparing to fight me.

“Why do you want this?” I asked.

Vicken considered me for a moment. “I became this monster
for you
. But you’re gone. I am forced to love the ghost of you in either form.”

“So I die and you’re free of me entirely?”

“I deserve it, Lenah. Don’t I?”

“You do…but the ritual is clear. It’s more than my age and blood. The person performing the ritual has to want to die. I cannot give that to you alone. My heart is broken in too many pieces.”

Vicken actually looked crestfallen. His dark eyes, the familiar look he gave me, he wanted me and hated me all at the same moment. He placed his sunglasses back on.

“Say your good-byes then,” he said, and turned on his heel. He disappeared into the trees.

I thought about calling out to him, calling into the branches and flowers that I knew smelled so good. If this were different, if this were how I could have wanted it, I would have sat with my friend and told Vicken how the earth in Lovers Bay rose to meet my feet in a way that nowhere else had. But I couldn’t. Much to my surprise, he called to me again: “Go forth,” he said from somewhere in the forest, “in darkness and in light.”

The lacrosse field was washed in peach sunlight, a kind of late afternoon light that made the whole field glow. But I watched from the shadow of the trees. The leaves protected me and although I wasn’t afraid of the sun, I never risked standing in it directly. I looked at patches of the sky between the geometric angles of the leaves. I could tell from the sun’s position that it was close to four in the afternoon. I leaned back against the bark of a large oak tree. After talking to Vicken it was clear the kind of battle this was going to be. Song would attempt to fight me physically, Gavin would attempt to spear me with a knife, Heath would use his words to attempt to distract me. But it was Vicken who would watch it—immobilized by the bond between us. The light was the answer—the only answer.

I turned my attention back to the field.

Justin sweated beneath his helmet and I could see tiny beads of perspiration resting on the top of his upper lip. He held his arms high in the air so his biceps flexed and pushed out from underneath the short sleeve of the lacrosse jersey. A line of girls, including the original Three-Piece, sat on the benches to watch the practice. A burning tinge of jealousy shot through me, but I shook my head quickly. That, more than anything else, was irrelevant now.

Beyond the field and across a pathway I could see the greenhouse. I wondered if in some magical world I could walk in, hide, and sleep amidst the nasturtium and roses. Then Justin ran past my eye line. He wasn’t in his varsity uniform. He wore a jersey and shoulder pads. Justin cradled the ball, dodged through other players, and finally shot it at the opposing goal. When he jumped up and down in victory, the coach blew a whistle indicating the end of practice.

Justin took off his helmet and when he did, he looked to the trees. He ran off the field with his lacrosse equipment over his shoulder. He stood on the border of the trees that lined the perimeter of the field. To the right of me was more woods and past that, the beach.

He stepped into the woods, and as the light from the sky shined down onto the ground, I remembered the first time I ever saw him. The boat racing, the beach, the way he glistened. He was still glistening, I just wasn’t a part of it anymore. Once he stepped a few paces into the thick bush he saw me leaning against an oak tree.

“It’s time,” I said.

“What’s the plan?” he asked. “What did you do all day?”

“Is your boat available? I want to go to the harbor near Wickham.”

“Why?”

“I’d like to keep watch on the campus. I think we can stay one step ahead that way. But I’ll explain everything later. We have to go. This really is time sensitive.”

I took a few steps through the woods in the direction of the lacrosse field.

“I—um.” Justin stayed near the oak tree and readjusted the equipment on his back. His eyes were hesitant. “I’m hungry,” he confessed.

“Oh, of course. I forgot—” I said, feeling very foolish.

“I’ll be really quick,” he interrupted, and motioned his head to the right. I looked and he was motioning in the direction of the Union. “I’ll grab a sandwich to go.”

“Sunset is at eight, which means we must be on your boat by—”

“I know, it’ll be quick, Lenah,” he said with a smile.

How could he possibly smile at me? I was a monster.

“Right,” I said, and stepped to the edge of the woods. “Let’s go.”