Reluctant Guardian (16 page)

Jill's eyes narrow as she purses her lips. “I'm not talking about vampires like Dracula, who turn into bats, Brecken. I'm talking about real people like you and me who use tools to do it—sharp teeth they place over their own to drink the blood of their lover. It's very primal, very spiritual. I... think we should try it.” She pulls a small, wooden box with a hinged lid from the table and places it before him. When she opens the lid, two sets of gleaming silver vampiric teeth reflect in the soft candlelight.

“Brecken, listen to me,” I hurry to say. “This is bad. This is
really
bad. You have to know that.”

He ignores me and picks up one set of fangs from the crushed red velvet, then touches the tip. “Ouch!” A bead of blood appears. He starts to put his finger in his mouth, but before he can, Jill reaches over, grasps his hand, and draws his finger into her mouth. She sucks his blood with a moan of pleasure.

This is horror film 101, and we are heading somewhere terrible, somewhere I refuse to go. I can't watch, and yet, I can't look away or leave Brecken.

Before any intelligent solutions enter my mind, Jill takes the other set of teeth and stabs
her
finger. A crimson drop of blood blossoms, ready to spill over her fingertip. Before it can drip, she slides her finger into Brecken's mouth.

 

~Another Deception~

Alisa

 

I nearly gag. Brecken doesn't think it's fabulous either, because instead of being turned on, seduced, or hypnotized—I'm not sure what Jill is going for—Brecken opens his mouth and pulls her finger out
without
swallowing the bright red liquid that stains his lip. He wipes it away with his arm.

“Uh, Jill?” he says kindly. “I don't think this is for me.”

“Brecken.” She leans forward. “You have no idea how good it can feel. She presses him back until he lies on the floor. She moves over him slowly, bringing her lips to his. He doesn't push her away.

A cold ball of anger wells up inside me. If I could rip her hair out by the roots, I would. Instead, I clear my throat and squat down beside his face. “Excuse me, pretty boy. But I'm bored with this b-rated romance flick. Can we please get out of here?”

He opens one eye and smiles while continuing to kiss Jill. He even wraps his arms around her waist.

I'm half-tempted to kick him in the head, but I doubt he'd even feel it. “Do you care about me at all, Brecken?” I ask with seriousness.

He stops his make-out session abruptly. “What?”

“I didn't say anything, baby,” Jill answers. She goes right back to kissing his face, his neck, his collarbone.

I look him right in the eyes, trying with all my heart to make him understand. “If you feel anything for me—anything at all, you'll leave with me now. Please.”

He searches my face, and then his eyes close for a moment, as though in pain. He gently pushes Jill away.

She sits up with a confused expression. “What's wrong?”

He gazes at her, a frown forming as he studies her at arm's length. “Jill, Your aura. It's... muddy.”

“My aura?” she repeats. “So what?”

“It's just that it's... a brown color.” He pushes her back further to scrutinize her face.

“What's that supposed to mean?” she says with a glare, her jaw clenching.

He squints as though trying to get a better look, as though trying to clear up a puzzle. “I've never seen it like this before.”

She shakes her head. “Don't start with that crap again, Brecken. You know I don't believe in it.”

“We've talked about this before, Jill. It's not like you don't know I see it,” he says. “It helps me know what people are feeling, what
you're
feeling.”

Anger radiates from her. She's ready to explode, but instead of screaming, she smiles. “You're right, Brecken. You're always right. You're obviously not ready to embrace this, so we'll do something different instead. Okay?”

Brecken releases a breath and nods. “Sure. But I really should get going. I don't like leaving Heidi and Sophie for so long.”

“Yeah, I know,” she says. “Will you do me just one favor before you go? Close your eyes for one second.”

With a reluctant sigh, he says, “All right, but this has to be quick.”

“Oh, it will be.”

Jill takes her fangs and dips them into a shallow bowl of liquid that sits on the table. She blows them dry, and before I can blink, she places them in her mouth, bends forward, and sinks the needle-like fangs deep into Brecken's bicep.

His eyes fly open
and he shoves her away. “Ow! Damn it, Jill!” He stares at the puncture which blossoms red on his arm. His eyes flick to mine in confusion.

Jill steps away.

After a few seconds, Brecken falls forward, one hand reaching out for balance, his other hand rubbing his glazed, sleepy eyes. With a moan, he lets himself fall all the way to the floor, his head bumping against the carpet-covered cement.

Jill is motionless, staring at Brecken's prone figure, a serious expression on her usually dim-witted face. She says nothing.

Kneeling at Brecken's side, my hands flutter desperately as my mind whirls, searching for a solution. I come up with nothing. I'm horrified that Jill would hurt someone she supposedly loves. What kind of a person can react so coldly, with such calculation?

After a moment, she wraps her long, white fingers around his wrist, checking his pulse. She shows no sign of worry. Only the frigid expression of an ice-queen. She lays Brecken out flat and adjusts his arms. Then, instead of bandaging his seeping bicep, she pulls his arm out to the side and lays her head on his chest. She wraps his arm around her, and places her lips on the delicate skin around the wound.

And sucks.

 

~Her Darkness Revealed~

Alisa

 

There is no way I can sit back and watch Jill drink Brecken's blood. And even though I've never tried to force my will on anyone, I know my mind has more power in one square centimeter than she has in her whole body. At least, that's what was told in
Idir Shaol
. I can supposedly make things happen by sheer force of will, but I've never tried it. I've never felt a need to.

With my hands fisted, every bit of fine matter in my spirit is focused on Jill. Narrowing my eyes so I can see only her, I picture a white-hot dart of fury, flying like a bullet from my mind into hers, exploding in the soft recesses of her buttery brain.

Nothing happens.

She continues to suck, a serene expression gracing her blissfully oblivious face. I can't even describe how she sickens me. I close my eyes, forcing a calm to come over me, forcing my mind to slow down—this time without the interference of frustration or anger—and send a silent message into her mind.

“Stop.”

A strange expression comes over Jill's face, and her sucking slows. Her brows knit together in question, she sits up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. The sudden burst of energy I'd used is gone, and I fall forward onto my hands, fatigued, limp, and mentally exhausted. I can hardly move as I watch the scene unfold in slow motion. Jill grabs a Band-Aid and unceremoniously rips it open, slapping it down on the white skin of Brecken's inner arm. She lies down next to him, snuggling close to his side while the candles burn, flickering lower and lower, their melted wax making a thick puddle on the table.

Dark shadows dance on the heavy quilts, and no sounds filter down from upstairs. Where are her parents? Doesn't anyone care where she is or what she does? When I was alive, my mother knew everything that went on in her house, where each of us was, and what we were doing. I swear she was psychic. I figured all moms had that gift.

After a moment, Jill falls asleep on the hard ground, a blanket spread over them. I kneel before Brecken and smooth my ghost-like fingers down his cheek. He looks so peaceful, like an innocent little boy, like he must have looked as a child. Then I remember his sisters. He needs to wake up! He needs to get out of here. “Brecken! Wake up!”

He doesn't respond. He breathes in and out, his chest rising and falling, his lashes fluttering against his pale cheek. I'll have to wait for him to wake up on his own. Time slides by at a snail's pace. The one lone window across the room is small, and creates shadows that pass over us with the setting of the sun. Still, there's no movement or sound from upstairs.

Finally, Brecken begins to stir. His eyes flicker, an agonized groan escapes his lips, and he turns on his side, waking up Jill. He blinks repeatedly, his hand raised to his forehead.

Jill sits up in a hurry, fully cognizant. “Brecken? Are you okay?” She's full of concern as she brushes his hair from his forehead.

Oh, to stomp on her, to rip her hair out. To bite
her
arm!

“Baby. I was so worried!” She leans forward and kisses his lips tenderly, then traces them with her long, white fingers.

Seeing her touch him, lie to him, does something to me, and I snap. An uncontrollable righteous fury rises up inside me, and the only thing I see is her neck squeezed by my unrelenting fingers. I spring for her, determined to take her down, to pound her face into the cement floor.

But in spite of my indignation, I fly right through her and the quilt that hangs as a makeshift wall. I roll to a stop next to the wine bottles that line the basement shelves.

Rising, I stare at the blanket I barreled through. It sways back and forth. For a moment I'm mesmerized, watching the to and fro vacillation of the quilt. I made it move. I affected something in the physical world. Feeling stronger and even more determined than I had a moment ago, I stomp back inside the comfortable, candlelit room to witness Jill helping Brecken to a seated position. With her arm around him, she whispers words I can't hear.

I don't have time to figure it out. Brecken needs to wake up and get out of here before Jill decides she's hungry again. I kneel before Brecken, placing my hands over his, staring straight into his eyes. “Brecken, can you hear me? Can you see me?”

“Huh?” His head lolls with dizziness. “What happened?”

“You tripped on the rug and fell.” Jill's explanation is ridiculous. He'll never believe it. He's not an idiot. “You hit your head pretty hard.”

“I did?”

“Yeah, hun, you did, and if I hadn't been so worried, I would have laughed. You looked so funny at first, but you were only out for a minute. Everything's all right now. Can you get up?”

“Yeah. Sure.” He shakes his head and tries to stand but loses his balance and stumbles forward, his hand catching on the low table. The candles sway, spilling their melted wax. Jill is quick to slip under his arm, taking his weight.

“Ow,” he groans, noticing his bandaged arm for the first time.

“You cut yourself,” she said. “You don't remember? Wow, baby, you must have hit your head hard.”

That lying, sneaky, little... I bite my tongue and my chest heaves. Can't he see through her? Boys are beyond stupid. Dead or alive. My temper boils and there's nothing more frustrating than being helpless.

“Brecken, can you hear me?” I ask again.

He takes a step up the stairs. “Yeah.” He answers with slurred detachment. His hands slide along the walls, grasping at the loose railing that rocks under his weight.

“You need to get home as soon as possible. Your sisters need you.” He's not really clear minded enough to listen, but maybe thinking of his sisters will get him to move faster. He has such a soft spot for them. “You're dad's working late and they're getting scared. We have to hurry!”

“Yeah, okay. Hurry,” he says, stumbling on the top stair.

“What?” Jilly turns to glance into his eyes.

“I need to get home.”

She helps him to a chair at the kitchen table where he plops down, his elbows resting on the tabletop, holding his head. Rocking back and forth, he groans looking like he might pass out again.

“I'll make you some herbal tea before you go. How does that sound?” Jill says.

“My head is killing me.”

“I'm not surprised with the thumping you gave it.” She smiles at him, then takes a cup from the cupboard and drops a dry teabag in. She fills it with water and places it in the microwave. “This will be done in one minute.” Taking down a bottle of Ibuprofen, she shakes out two white tablets. “Here. These should help.” She sets a cold glass of water before him.

Brecken takes the pills without question.

What an idiot.

 

~Stupid Boy~

Alisa

 

The pills don't kill Brecken so they really must have been ibuprofen, but I'll never trust Jill again. She's not who she appears to be, her pretty face and perfect body covering up a dark and putrid heart. I know what her future holds if she doesn't do some drastic changing. She'll get a condo complete with a lava-filled hot tub right next to Mr. Roland.

After Brecken finishes his peppermint tea, she drives us home. I sit in the backseat and fume. Brecken's eyes are still slightly glazed even after she dumps him onto his living room couch. He lies there exhausted while she kisses his forehead.

“See you later, Breck. Hope you feel better.”

“Yeah,” I murmur as she closes his front door. “Later.”

The dark circles beneath Brecken's eyes give him a hollow, ethereal look in the dim light of evening, and he probably won't remember any sort of conversation, but I can't wait any longer. “Brecken. We need to talk.”

“Huh? Where are you?” He lifts his head and searches the living room. His sisters are nowhere around.

“I'm sitting in the tan La-Z-Boy.” I move closer to sit right in front of him on the coffee table. “Can you see me now?”

“Uh... yeah. Kinda.” His head falls back to the couch cushion. “Man, my head is killin' me.”

“That's because she drugged you.”

He squints and turns to his side, his cheek resting on his hand. “What?”