The Ylem (26 page)

Read The Ylem Online

Authors: Tatiana Vila

Tags: #David_James Mobilism.org

“I guess that being born on an equinox causes
the absorption of some of this radiation, which increased
dramatically the energy surrounding your body. It’s like you’re
coated with an overpowering radiation that messes up with my
receiver.”

His words brought a new cloud of thoughts
into my head. Could that be behind my bugging static issues? The
flickering lights, the jolting shocks—maybe it was all related to
this “overpowering energy” that covered my body.

“But I sensed you once,” he said. I looked at
him. “At Ski Apache. I was inside the car when I caught a wave of
plea mingled with fear. It came with a strong resonance, so the
location was really clear. The only thing I didn’t know was that it
was
your
wave. Finding you laying there was as surprising as
it was…upsetting,” he frowned. “At that time, I thought I’d been
able to sense you because of the snow. Since water conducts
resonance much better than air, I figured it had amplified your
wave. But I'm still not sure about that.”

So that’s how he’d found me that day. Now I
could see why he couldn’t tell me.

“Why don’t you give Kalista a little taste of
your talent?” Elan said, rubbing his hands in anticipation. That
bright, white smile widening his lips.

“Yeah, bring some popcorn,” Vincent said.
“It’ll be fun.”

Mingan only shook his head in exasperation
and walked up to the wall where the video games and movies
were.

I looked back at Tristan. Curiosity blossomed
inside of me. As if he’d noticed it, he took in a deep breath and
closed his eyes. It took only a few seconds to know what he was
doing. “Valerie,” he said and opened his eyes. “She’s mad about
something—riled,” he pulled up his eyes to mine. He was staring
past me, frowning. “The words ‘couch’ and…and ‘bruise’ are mingled
in her wave.”

“Call her,” Lamia prompted, placing an iPhone
on the coffee table. “That way you’ll see what he’s talking
about.”

Hesitantly, I bent forward and picked it up.
Everybody was watching me. I dialed Valerie’s number, not knowing
what to expect. After the third ring, she answered with a deep
sigh. “I'm not in the mood, so pl—”

“Valerie, it’s me,” I cut her off.

“Kalista? ”she said, lessening the dryness in
her voice. “Oh, sorry. It’s just that—wait, whose phone is
this?”

Oops. “It’s, um…it’s my dad’s,” I lied. “Why
do you sound so worked up?”

“Owen.” She offered as an explanation. I
could sense a snarl twisting her lips. “Remember the lovely white
couch I told you about, the one I got this week for my room?”

Owen’s muted groans rumbled in the
background.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I was painting my nails when he showed
up. I got to my feet to kiss him, leaving the bottle on the
armrest, and when he sat down on the couch—no, actually, when he
threw himself on the couch,” I heard Owen complaining again. “my
purple nail polish spilled and left a huge, I mean, huge stain all
over my brand new couch! Of course, we tried to save it with a
polish remover but all it did was smear the stain. It looks like a
giant bruise now!”

I shoved the cell phone away from my ear,
afraid it’d explode.

Lamia repressed a laugh. “Tell her to use
vinegar,” she whispered.

“Is someone there with you?” Valerie
said.

“No,” I turned around nervously. “It’s just,
um, the TV. Look, use vinegar on it. I got to hang up. My dad needs
to call someone. See you tomorrow, okay?”

“But—”

“Bye!” I closed the cell phone before she
would ask more questions. I stared at it for a moment, pondering
Tristan’s words and Valerie’s cranky shouts. He’d got it right. He
could sense people’s feelings and ‘bits’ of their thoughts.
Amazing.

I looked at him. He was studying my face,
waiting for my reaction. Anxiety touched the corners of his
eyes.

“Wow.” Vincent said, staring at us with
excitement. “Isn’t this better than watching a crappy reality
show?”

“You love watching reality shows, Vince,”
Lamia gave him a look.

“I know,” he raised his eyebrows. “Somehow
the crappiness is addictive.”

“Thanks,” I handed Lamia her cell phone,
suddenly uncomfortable with being the center of attention.

“Good thing she carries that thing with her,”
Elan said, nodding to the cell phone.

I frowned. “Why are you carrying a cell phone
if you don’t need one?” I asked Lamia. They had the telepathy
thing, right?

“Don’t you use a cell phone, too?” Vincent
said to me. “How else will she communicate with us?”

“But…isn’t she a Shifter?” I looked at her.
With those ethereal looks, there was no doubt she wasn’t human. I
was seriously considering she’d been the prototype for some of the
anime cartoons I’d seen.

“God, no!” Elan said, as if the thought of it
was ridiculous. “Women can’t be Shifters.”

“You’re vessels,” Tristan explained. “The
grail of our connection to the human world. Women bodies are a lot
stronger than men’s. If bitten, the ‘virus’ carried by the saliva
doesn’t affect you. We believe it’s some kind of immunity female
bodies already have. You also reject Shifter genes, which is why
the biological inheritance doesn’t work with you.”

“Really?” I couldn’t imagine being stronger
than Tristan or the others. “So, what are you?” I looked at Lamia
again.

“It’s not really a big deal,” Lamia said,
looking at me warily. “It’s just that…well, I'm not technically a
girl.”

“Stop turning it over in your mind, Lamia,”
Vincent told her and glanced at me. “She’s a vamp.”

I turned to look at Tristan and found him
studying my face once more. “A vamp?” I said, puzzled. “Like in…a
vampire?” Surely not.

To my surprise, he nodded. I turned around
wide eyed and looked at the purple-haired girl who seemed to be a
vampire. An honest to God vampire. The craziness didn’t stop
coming.

“Awesome,” Vincent said, looking at me amused
“This is definitely much better than a reality show. Your face is
priceless.”

“Before you start on me with all the
Dracula-crap-questions, let me explain to you the basics first,”
Lamia said in an annoyed tone. She straightened her body from the
curved position she was in. “One, I don’t bite humans, I feed on
blood bags that are shipped to me once every month from a special
blood bank unit at the Red Cross, and on animals when the
provisions are limited.”

“Oh yeah, you should see us hunting together.
It’s quite an experience,” Vincent said with a wicked smile.

She ignored him and carried on. “Two, I don’t
sleep in coffins, nor fly—that would’ve been cool, though—and
garlic, holy water, or any other sacred items don’t hurt me. Oh,
and I can’t be killed by a stake in the heart. I’ve never really
understood that dumb superstition. It’ll hurt like hell if someone
does it to me, but I'm dead, so heart or no heart, it doesn’t
matter.”

“You already have mine, luv, just in case.”
Vincent said, putting his arm around her waist.

She glanced at him and smiled. “And three, as
you saw earlier, I didn’t combust while standing here with the sun
getting through the windows.” She pointed out. “Sunlight doesn’t
kill me, but it harms my skin and eyes after a long exposure. Sun
glasses help a little, but not enough to stop me from going blind
for eternity.” She grimaced. “And that’s something I definitely
don’t look forward to.”

I swallowed, struggling to process all the
information. “What about fangs? How can you drink blood?” She
didn’t have any, just a set of perfect evenly white teeth.

She chortled, amused by my question. “Oh, I
do have fangs. They’re just well hidden.” She arched one eyebrow.
“They’re attached to my hard palate, behind the teeth. If I need
them, I only need to open my mouth and push them out.”

“If you’ve seen snake fangs, you don’t need
to picture anything else,” Elan said.

“Yeah, you could say that,” she agreed.

It would’ve never occurred to me that a snake
could be similar to a vampire. Then again, I’d never really thought
vampires were real, so I hadn’t put too much thought in. “I don’t
understand. Aren’t you supposed to be enemies or something like
that?” I said, looking at Vincent and her.

Everybody laughed, even Tristan and Mingan
who’d been serious all the way through the conversation. “I think
it’s quite the opposite, Kalista. Vampires are too friendly with
us,” Elan stated, raising his eyebrows.

“And that tends to be a problem sometimes,”
she told me. “Jealousy doesn’t elude male vampires, so some of them
don’t get along with Shifters at all. I think that’s the main
reason behind your theory.”

“Yeah, do you remember that vamp who believed
he was the immortal reincarnation of James Dean, Tris?” Elan
smirked. But Tristan wasn’t paying attention to him. “Tris?”

Tristan raised his eyes and looked at me.
“Your father,” he said. “He’s really worried over something.”

My stomach clenched. “My dad? Why?”

“I don’t know,” he tightened his eyes, as if
he was thinking over some tricky puzzle. “I can’t catch anything
else.”

I stared over his shoulder, looking through
the window at the shadowy night outside. And the answer hit me. “My
dad! He must be freaking out!” I looked at Tristan. “I have to
go.”

“I’ll take you,” he said immediately.

“Well,” Vincent patted the armrest and stood
up. “I guess the fun is over. It was nice meeting you while it
lasted, Kalista. Too bad you can’t hang around.” He shrugged.

“Yeah, this testosteronic haven could’ve used
a bit more of female wit,” Lamia looked around and smiled at me.
Then it vanished from her lips. “And by female wit I mean
unpolluted and bitch-free female wit. That double-tongued bitch of
Chloe is not included.”

I pressed my lips and hid a smile. Poor
Lamia. Having Chloe around every day must’ve been a purgatory.

“Bye, Kalista.” Elan wrapped me in a bear hug
all of a sudden. No air seemed to pass through my lungs. “Keep our
secret safe.” He pulled back with a smile.

Mingan nodded at me, the faint trace of a
smile touching his lips—the kindest gesture he’d put on display for
me until now. He wasn’t a bad person, I realized. He only worried
over his friends. To his eyes, I was a threat, a threat that
jeopardized their lives. And he was right. After everything I’d
heard tonight, I could bring a thunderstorm to their quiet
existence. Mingan’s hard manner didn’t seem so crazy anymore.

I looked at Tristan with a pang in my chest.
“Let’s go,” he told me, his silver eyes mirroring my own
sadness.

I pulled my red hood over my head, not
knowing if it was to cover the sadness wrapping my face or to
shelter my head from the cold waiting for us outside.

Before I stepped into the hall, Vincent’s
voice brought me to a halt. “Why, Little Red Riding Hood, I thought
you’d learned to stay away from the dangers of the forest.”

Tristan shot him a glare.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it.” Vincent said
with a wry smile, looking at my red hood.

And on our way to the door, I couldn’t help
the smile tugging at my lips, too.

 

After nearly giving him a heart attack and
everlasting stomach-knotting hours, my dad had said, I was
surprised he’d taken Tristan’s explanations so well. Though I’d
told him not to, Tristan had insisted on helping me with him,
claiming that he’d been, as well, responsible for my late arrival
and for my dad’s overanxious state.

Now, after being thanked for taking care of
me and being invited to drink hot chocolate, Tristan finally let
out the words I’d feared all this time. “I have to go, Mr.
Hamilton,” he said with a polite smile. “But thank you for your
offer.”

“Anytime,” my dad said, patting Tristan’s
shoulder warmly. I wondered if he’d do the same thing if he’d known
what Tristan was. “I’ll wait for you inside, honey.” He strode into
the house, leaving the door open.

We climbed down the steps of the porch and
stopped a few feet away from Tristan’s car. He turned around,
hesitant. “So…”

“So…” I looked down at my Converses.

“I'm glad I got to tell you about it,” he
said with a soft smile in his voice. He didn’t need to be specific.
I knew what he meant. “It was…liberating and…well…” He looked at me
and our eyes met. Hundreds of thoughts hanged between us. Yet,
their intensity seemed to swallow us whole, rendering us
speechless. We could only stare at each other, unable to mouth what
was happening inside of us.

“I do understand, Tristan,” I finally said,
hoping that with those few words, I would sum up the throbbing
feelings that churned within my chest.

He lowered his eyes, nodding. A long pause
followed, and for a moment, I thought he was going to touch my
hand. My breath stilled. But he pulled it back to his side quickly
and stuffed it in his pocket, as if afraid of committing the same
mistake again.

I sagged in disappointment.

Not knowing what else to say, he turned
around and slipped inside his car. I walked up to the porch and
stood under the threshold, watching the front lights of his car
being swallowed by the darkness of the woods. My shoulders drooped
more, as if I was carrying buckets of cement.

Then, I felt it again. That same queasy
feeling of being watched. I scanned the dark surroundings with my
eyes. Was Chloe still spying on me? I didn’t stay too long to find
out, though. Suddenly the idea of her being inside of some wild
animal’s body out in this shadowy night filled me with dread. I
closed the door, made sure to lock it and headed to the living
room.

“Hey, Dad,” I said, stopping next to the
couch. “Is there any animal that can, like, jump from the ground
onto my balcony or…or climb up the wall?”

He gave me a look. “Are you still afraid
about that werewolf nonsense?”

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