Amber Frost (26 page)

“Why?” I asked, tears filling my eyes. I felt like I was in shock. “I don’t understand. Why would you want…?” I trailed off in confusion, trying to understand the strange expression on his face.

“I didn’t,” he whispered, his face growing pale. He pulled away from me, anxiously running his fingers through his dark, tangled hair. The day suddenly felt colder, the magic I’d felt this morning twisting into a darker, dangerous black voodoo in the air. “I
know
I didn’t want that.” The fear in his voice scared me more than anything else.

“Sebastian, you’re hurt!” I suddenly noticed. The leg of his black pants was torn revealing a deep, bleeding gash down one of his shins. We both stared at the cut, at the thick, red blood steadily trickling down his leg, soaking into his cuff in a sticky, dark stain.

And suddenly I understood. I gasped as it all made sense, the pieces clicking together in my mind. Sebastian stared at me uncomprehendingly as my eyes filled with more sparkling tears.

“What have you done?” I whispered, all the shock and horror clear in my voice. He stared back at me in confusion, his expression almost offended at my hushed accusation. “You’re aging,” I stated, my welling tears spilling down my cheeks in two thin, salty streams. “You’ve given it all up – you’re
normal
.”

Sebastian’s reaction was not what I expected. He stared at me a moment longer, his expression totally blank and then suddenly he tipped his head back and hooted out loud. His face was alight with his excitement, his smile triumphant as he radiated pure, uninhibited joy.

“I did it!” he declared, lifting me up in his arms and spinning me around. He planted me back on my feet, his laughter fading as he saw the fresh tears on my face. “What’s wrong?” He looked confused as he gently wiped my tears away with his thumbs but instantly more fell in their place. I choked back a miserable sob.

“You’re hurt – you
can
get hurt now. You could even
die
! Things won’t be okay anymore, you’ll never have what you want and it’s all because of me,” I got out between sobs. Sebastian smiled at me affectionately, pulling me tightly against his chest and rhythmically stroking my hair.

“Shh, calm down,” he encouraged though I could hear the amusement in his voice. “Everything will be okay, I promise. This is what I wanted, Gracelynn. It’s what I’ve always dreamt of but never been able to truly want enough for it to happen. A part of me was always too afraid to be normal but you… you’ve given me my life back. You’ve made me strong enough to want the right thing; to be normal again for me and for you. We can be together now, for the rest of our lives – just like everyone else.” He sounded joyful at the prospect. His obvious happiness was enough to comfort me for the moment. My sobs slowed, my tears came to a halting stop.

“You shouldn’t have to sacrifice so much,” I argued sadly, sniffing as I spoke.

“I’m sacrificing nothing,” he argued. “I still have you. Don’t I?”

“What a stupid question,” I mumbled against his chest. His answering chuckle lifted my spirits, I smiled reluctantly. “You’re going to have to buy a razor,” I pointed out, running my fingertips down the length of his jaw, trying to get used to the unfamiliar texture. He laughed.

“That’s the least of my concerns. I’m going to have to be a lot more careful – I’m not used to the possibility of things going wrong. This is going to take some getting used to.” He glanced down at the pond, its icy surface cracked and broken apart, sparkling innocently in the sun. “I’m so sorry I endangered you,” he apologized, his forehead creasing into a frown.

“
I’m
fine,” I dismissed, looking pointedly at his leg. “We should go get that taken care of, you may need stitches.” Sebastian’s eyes lit up with sudden interest.

“Really? I don’t think I’ve ever had stitches before,” he mused. “The cut feels strange. There’s a sharp pain but it also burns, and I can feel my pulse around the wound.”

“Come on – let’s get a taxi to the hospital.”

“No,” he argued, frowning once more. “The hospital will want to see some kind of identification, a health care card or birth certificate. I have neither.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that,” I admitted, frowning also. “Well this complicates things.”

“We’ll go back to my house, there’s a first aid kit there and I don’t think this is really as bad as it looks.”

“How would you know?” I pointed out. He grinned in response. I couldn’t believe how much he was actually enjoying being cut and bleeding. “Let’s get a taxi still; I don’t think you should walk too far.” He shrugged, only limping slightly as we started to walk down the bridge and back towards the park trail.

“If you insist.” His arm was still around my shoulders and I could feel him leaning on me slightly as we walked. Every now and again I thought I saw him wince out of the corner of my eye too. For someone who rarely experienced pain, he seemed to have quite quickly taken to the natural male urge to downplay any injury. I snorted under my breath. Sebastian raised an eyebrow at me but said nothing, probably concentrating on his charade.

We ended up having to walk halfway to the Jensons’ house before we were passed by a cab. There was a fair amount of snow, especially on the side streets, and not many people were out. Sebastian found this very amusing – wanting a taxi but having to wait for one to drive by. He apologized when we arrived at the Jensons and I had to pay the fare; he usually ‘found’ money when he wanted it or was given freebies or ridiculous discounts when he didn’t want to pay the amount asked. Carrying money was another thing he was going to have to get used to.

The sun had disappeared and a light snow started to fall as we trudged through the icy snow up the Jensons’ driveway. I could tell Sebastian’s leg was really starting to hurt him as he limped awkwardly through the snow, no longer attempting to hide any stabs of pain. He looked markedly less amused by the situation when we discovered the front door to his house was locked and he didn’t have a key. Naturally, he’d never wanted to be locked out before. As he banged on the door I found myself holding my breath, praying that someone would be home.

I let out a soft sigh of relief as we heard footsteps approaching the door from the other side. The door was unlocked with a click and then swung open to reveal Mrs. Jenson, her expression a mixture of surprise and confusion as she looked us over.

“Sebastian, Grace, what…?” she began to ask. Her eyes drifted down to Sebastian’s torn pant leg and the bloody cut beneath. She gasped in shock, her eyes darting back up to Sebastian’s face, her eyes full of questions and concern.

“I had a bit of an accident,” he explained with a rueful grin. His eyes twinkled excitedly. “I’ve finally done it, Shauna. I’m
normal
, just like you, just like Grace,” he declared triumphantly. Her reaction was similar to my own had been, she just stared at Sebastian in mute horror. She recovered more quickly than I had.

“Come in, you must be freezing out there,” she said as she ushered us inside. Her brown eyes were wider than normal, her coloring slightly dull and pale. “Go have a seat in the living room and I’ll get the first aid kit,” she instructed as she closed the door behind us. Mrs. Jenson bustled out of sight. I was fairly certain she would be taking a moment to recover herself as well as finding the first aid kit; Sebastian had just dropped quite the bombshell.

I followed Sebastian into the living room and insisted on helping him take off his boots. I gently raised his injured leg up onto a foot stool and carefully rolled up his torn pant leg to expose the wound. The gash was about four inches long but not as deep as I had feared; paper stitches would probably suffice to hold the wound closed. I mentioned this to Sebastian and he actually looked disappointed.

“You wouldn’t want Mrs. Jenson to stitch you up with a sewing kit,” I pointed out.

“I suppose not,” he reluctantly agreed. His face suddenly brightened. “Do you think it’s deep enough to scar?” he asked hopefully. I tried to give him a disapproving smile but his cheeky grin was hard to resist.

Mrs. Jenson returned and proceeded to treat Sebastian’s wound, carefully cleaning it with antiseptic, closing it with paper stitches and finishing with a thick bandage to cover and keep it clean. Sebastian refused the Tylenol she offered him, insisting that he wanted to fully experience and enjoy this forgotten sensation of pain. I wondered how long his strange fascination with unwanted and undesirable events would last yet at the same time, I was a little afraid for when the novelty wore off.

After Mrs. Jenson finished tending Sebastian’s injured leg she made us a pot of tea and we all sat down in front of the living room fireplace with tea and biscuits. Sebastian told the story of the ice cracking out on the pond, explaining how he’d acquired his first injury in over four hundred years. He was a wonderful story teller and though I’d witnessed it all first hand, I found myself leaning forward in my seat, as enchanted by the images his words were painting as Mrs. Jenson. He didn’t mention what we had been doing out on the pond, making no reference to his secret mural or the ring he had given me. I was certain Mrs. Jenson had noticed the ring though, her eyes occasionally glancing down to my left hand.

Just as Sebastian finished the tale, we heard the sounds of someone arriving through the front door. Seconds later, Mr. Jenson walked into the living room with snowflakes sprinkled over his coat and clinging to his grayish-brown hair.

“That snow’s really coming down again,” Mr. Jenson commented as he shrugged out of his coat and draped it over a chair near the fire to dry. “Sebastian, Grace,” he greeted us with nods as he took a seat beside Mrs. Jenson on the couch, eagerly reaching for a biscuit while his wife poured him tea. I hadn’t noticed until then that she had brought out four cups, not three.

“Shauna called you?” Sebastian asked, sounding surprised. Mrs. Jenson looked down, seeming embarrassed. Mr. Jenson shrugged.

“Of course. She explained the situation to me and we both felt it would be best for me to come home at once.” He glanced at me uncomfortably, his eyes briefly flickering to the ring on my hand too. Sebastian appeared not to notice, rolling his eyes dramatically.

“Not you too,” he complained. “Can’t anyone be excited for me? I’m finally
normal
– free to live a normal, happy life. Free to be with Gracelynn, with no further complications.”

“I’d hardly say that there are no complications, Sebastian,” Mr. Jenson argued, his brow wrinkled into a deep frown. Mrs. Jenson shifted uncomfortably at his side as Sebastian scowled back at both of them.

“Perhaps you should wait for Sebastian upstairs, dear,” Mrs. Jenson suggested tentatively. I hesitated, looking to Sebastian.

“You might as well go; they obviously want to speak with me alone,” he reluctantly agreed. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you everything in a minute,” he added quietly as he leaned over to quickly kiss my cheek. I didn’t doubt that he would, we had no secrets. It was also for that reason that I didn’t feel the slightest bit of guilt as I waited halfway up the staircase. I was far enough up that if anyone came out of the living room, I could quickly leap up the last few stairs but still close enough to the bottom that I could just make out the conversation below.

There was silence for several minutes after I left, the only sounds were those of the crackling fire. I assumed the Jensons wanted to ensure I was out of earshot before they began. This only served to further pique my curiosity. I strained my ears as Mr. Jenson began to speak.

“Sebastian, what are you thinking?” he demanded, his low voice breaking the silence.

“Really, Don. I thought you of all people would understand; you know how I’ve longed for this,” Sebastian replied, not answering Mr. Jenson’s question. “Why isn’t anyone excited? Everything’s going to be okay now, all my problems are solved.”

“No, Sebastian. Your problems are just beginning,” Mr. Jenson argued. Sebastian didn’t answer. I could imagine him scowling, irritated by Mr. Jenson’s negativity.

“There are so many complications I don’t think you’ve considered. You have no idea how to live in a world where you don’t get what you want the moment you want it; you have no identification, no proof that you even exist, all the questions you haven’t wanted people to ask are going to need to be answered,” Mrs. Jenson pointed out, her voice full of concern.

“I’m not worried about it,” Sebastian dismissed. “It’ll all work out.”

“Of course you’re not worried; you’ve never been worried about anything – except Grace,” Mr. Jenson conceded. “Shauna’s right though; you don’t know how to live normally.”

“I’ll learn, Grace will help me,” Sebastian argued stubbornly. I nodded my silent agreement on the staircase, pleased with his well-placed faith in me.

“Sebastian, you can’t possibly mean this. You’re going to give up your amazing ability, your whole life and existence for this girl? We like her Sebastian, we do, but I can’t say we understand. She’s a child compared to you – an infant. This won’t work,” Mr. Jenson sadly pronounced. Angry and fearful tears prickled my eyes as I heard his words. I was starting to regret my eavesdropping.

“Grace is everything to me,” Sebastian pronounced defiantly. “It will work. I want it to work more than anything and everything else.”

“Sometimes wanting something isn’t enough,” Mrs. Jenson spoke softly.

“It will work,” Sebastian repeated firmly.

“And if it doesn’t?”

The room fell silent. I wished I could have seen Sebastian’s face.

“If Grace is unhappy with me this way… if she decides that she truly no longer wants me, I’ll go back to the way I was,” Sebastian quietly responded.

“I thought you’d given up your ability?” Mr. Jenson asked. “Even if you wanted to go back to the way you were, would it work? How can you be certain?”

“It would work, if it came to that.” Though Sebastian answered reluctantly, I could tell he was sure. “I may have never been able to do this before but I did remember the theory… if Grace honestly didn’t want me, if she took off the ring…” I could tell he didn’t like considering the possibility; I didn’t either.

“Sebastian, about that ring –” Mrs. Jenson began, speaking gently.

“That’s between Grace and I,” he interrupted, his voice sharp. The finality of his tone had abruptly ended the conversation; I could tell I would hear no more.

I quickly and quietly crept up the rest of the staircase, tiptoeing down the hall to Sebastian’s room. I crossed over to the window to watch the heavily falling snow while I waited for Sebastian to come up. My thoughts seemed to swirl like the thick, heavy snowflakes, tumbling in all directions as the wind gusted back and forth.