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Authors: Arreyn Grey

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BOOK: Flicker
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              “Good evening, Alexander,” Gregory's voice over the phone was the most welcome sound Elise had ever heard. “I trust nothing has gone awry with our plans for tomorrow?”

              “Gregory!” Elise cried, cutting him off. For an instant, the line was silent.

              “Elise?” Gregory sounded shocked. “Is everything all right?”

              Suddenly, Elise found that she couldn't speak fast enough. “Rashid has Alex!” She exclaimed. “I got a call from him saying to meet him at this address before dawn and I went to Alex's house to make sure he was telling the truth and Alex is gone and he left his phone and there's a card here that must have lured him off, and I don't know what to do!”

              “Okay, okay,” Gregory soothed her. “Let me get this straight: Rashid kidnapped Alexander, called you with an address and a demand, and you are in Alexander's house right now, correct?”

              “Yes,” Elise said breathlessly. In the background, she heard a voice that must have been Sarah's. Elise couldn't make out what she was saying, but she sounded angry.

              “What does the card say?” Gregory asked in his soft, “talking people off ledges” voice. Elise read it off to him rapidly. She could tell he was writing down the information, so after she told him about the address Alex had been lured to, she added the one that Rashid had given her.

              “I don't even know where it is,” she said, trying not to sound like a helpless child.

              “I'll look it up,” Gregory placated her. “In the meantime, we need to keep you safe. Do you have a car?” He paused. “Um, do you drive?” Elise had to fight the insane urge to giggle-- he was clearly not used to dealing with anyone under a hundred years old, let alone under eighteen.

              “Yes, I got my license on my birthday.” She hesitated, her eyes lighting on the counter where Alex's phone had been. He'd clearly dumped his pockets there. “And I have access to a car.”

              “Good,” Gregory's voice turned clipped and efficient as he rattled off orders. “Get a pen and write this down.” He gave her directions to his apartment in New York City. “I want you to get in the car and drive straight here, no side trips. Sarah and I can protect you, and you in danger does no one any good. Understand?”

              “Yes,” Elise said somewhat meekly, too relieved to have someone else in charge to argue his assessment.

              “Is there going to be trouble with your parents?” He asked, almost as an afterthought. Elise couldn't be sure, but she thought she heard Sarah cursing in the background.

              “No,” she said quickly. “Alex and I have-- had early plans for tomorrow, so they won't expect to see me until tomorrow night at the latest.” She struggled not to let the strain from changing to past tense show in her voice, but of course Gregory picked up on it.

              “Listen to me,” he said with quiet force. “I need you to keep it together, okay? You've been through so much, this will be easy.” Elise was quiet. “I know you're strong enough to do this. Alexander trusts you, and so do I.”

              She drew in a deep breath, forcing her hands to stop shaking. “You're right-- I can do this.” She checked the time on the microwave clock. “Okay, I'll be to you by one-thirty.”

              After they hung up, Elise pocketed Alex's phone, then paused before she ran out the door. Thinking rapidly, she dashed back upstairs and grabbed his backpack. Emptying his school stuff out, she stuffed in his laptop, the card and envelope Rashid had left, and the little paper on which she'd written the address where Rashid told her to go. She zipped her keys, her wallet, and both cell phones into the front pouch, and she was ready to go.

              There wasn't much to do about the broken back window, so she left the lights on and locked the door again anyway as she slipped out to Alex's car. He drove a silver Maxima, similar enough to her mother's sedan that she had no trouble getting used to it. As she eased back out of the driveway, she had the momentary, giddy thought that if he'd driven a stick shift, she would have been completely out of luck.

              As focused as she was on driving through the dark town, Elise couldn't help but notice all the decorations people had put up for Halloween. It was only six days away now-- she'd spent some time working on her costume and Alex's, but with her attention so divided lately she doubted she'd have them ready in time. She refused to think that Alex might not be around to wear his, or that she may not have a need for one, either. She passed a house that was clearly home to small children-- the decorations were far too cute to ever be mistaken for frightening, and even included a giant blow-up Frankenstein monster propped against a tree.
Pretend monsters
, Elise shook her head. The children there were still too young to know about real monsters, and Elise hoped for their sake that they'd never find out.

              She wasn't only recalling the human kind of monster, either. She was acquainted now with the real monsters of the world; in fact, she was one. Fear and uncertainty had temporarily dulled the feeling, but since she'd gotten Rashid's call, a fine, trembling fury had taken root inside of her-- and a large portion of it was directed at herself. She'd made the mistake of treating Rashid-- and Alex, really-- like humans. She'd thought of them as boys-- wealthy yes, powerful certainly, but still boys with boys' wants and needs and goals. It wasn't that she couldn't wrap her mind around how very different they were after all their years of war and scheming and loss and survival-- she'd just never tried to. She hadn't wanted to look at them as something other, and this was what happened as a result. Scowling, she blew through a yellow light and got into the lane that would take her up onto the highway.

11 BREAKING POINT

 

 

              Through the fog obscuring his mind, Alexander could hear Rashid speaking. He had to focus to make out the words-- but did he want to? It might be important. Why was it important? He struggled to remember. What had his hated adversary done this time? He had stolen something, something so vital to Alexander that being without it was akin to life without oxygen. And yet, what?

              Rashid's voice was closer, right beside his ear.  He whispered, “Elise.”

              The word, the idea of the young woman, the picture it brought to Alexander's mind-- and the world was suddenly clearer, his mind less hazy. With his awakening came the agony.

              He was kneeling; the realization brought his focus to the sharp, stabbing pains in his knees. A glance told him all he needed to know: he was positioned on a patch of uncooked rice grains, with his ankles tied together to stop him from standing. His weight had been partially supported by a harness around his chest, but as he rapidly regained his senses, Rashid was already walking around him, unstrapping it and leaving him to support his own body.

              Alexander tried to alleviate the pain in his knees by leaning back, and was rewarded by a wrenching, screaming twist through his shoulders and back that surprised a cry from his lips. He had been too focused on his knees to think about his arms, but now he realized he couldn't feel them. Any struggling both redoubled the sensation in his legs and sent waves of nauseating agony through his shoulders, but a quick series of jerks confirmed his hypothesis: his wrists were bound together behind his back, and had been hoisted up to nearly the level of his shoulders, forcing him to hunch forward. Any attempt to relieve his knees, and he would risk dislocating his shoulders, and worse. Rashid had, with exquisite simplicity, trapped him in quite a predicament; the force of Alexander's rage at the situation was palpable.

              Or at least, it should have been-- but as Alexander reached for his power to assist him in escaping this tortuously uncomplicated position, he found only the tiniest flickering ember in place of his usual roaring furnace. His eyes widened in panic: he'd never been this drained in his life. Desperate, he cast around him for someone, even Rashid, upon whom to draw-- and came up abruptly as he ran into a solid wall. Invisible, intangible, but completely encasing him was a shield that tasted of Rashid.

              And there he was, the villain himself, now seated comfortably in a chair scant feet away, watching Alexander's face intently.

              “You,” Alexander hissed venomously, throwing himself forward. The agony that screamed through him as the ropes brought him up short reminded him why that was a terrible decision.

              Meanwhile, Rashid laughed. “Of course me,” he said, still chuckling. “What a cliché way to begin all this.” He seemed indescribably pleased with himself, and was practically licking his lips as he watched Alexander suffer.

              “And what is all this, exactly?” Alexander forced the words out through gritted teeth, refusing to pant despite the torment that seemed to grow with every breath.

              Rashid wiggled his finger in front of Alexander's face, clucking at him like a chastising grandmother. “No, no-- no ruining the surprise.” He sat up suddenly, clapping his hands together sharply. Alexander heard the sound echo through a vast empty space, though the room that he was in was so dark he could only see a little ways beyond Rashid's chair. “Now, let's get started, shall we?” Rashid was grinning again.

 

              Later, Elise would recall very little of her drive to New York; all she could remember is that it took an eternity. She didn't have a car, didn't often have a reason to drive her parents', and so was still somewhat unfamiliar being behind the wheel; where Alex had taken maybe an hour and a half to get to the city, it took her a little over two. She was glad Gregory had warned her, as he gave her the directions, that she would need change for tolls; much as she hated to stop, she had to take the few minutes to pull money from an ATM. All of it was interminable. Throughout the entire trip, Elise's imagination treated her to vivid images of what Rashid could be doing to Alex while she was stuck driving thirty miles per hour behind a tractor trailer, fueled by her recollection of the tiny little spark of deranged loathing Rashid had had in his eye on the occasions when he had said Alex's name.

              After what had to be several millennia, Elise found a parking spot in the garage she and Alex had used last time they came to see Gregory. Rashid's warning about the Court's secrecy laws echoed in her mind, and as Elise crossed the cement building, the knowledge that there were unknown numbers of security cameras recording her was the only thing keeping her movements human-slow. The thought occurred to her briefly that this late at night, young and alone as she clearly was, there was a chance she might encounter a mugger or some other criminal type; these notions were in no way lessened as she recalled a lecture her mother had given her recently about the dangers of the Big City. Elise dismissed the concern as soon as it came to her: if she did meet someone intent on doing her harm, at least it would give her a chance to vent some of the fury that lay tightly coiled in her belly. However, whether the snapping aura of barely contained violence around her drove them off, or whether her mother had grossly exaggerated the frequency of city attacks, as Elise strode to the narrow staircase that would take her to the street, her footsteps echoing aggressively in the darkness, there was no other living soul in sight.

              As she made her way down the carpeted hall that led to Gregory's apartment, Elise felt her rage beginning to soften. She recognized how closely it was intermixed with her terror-- for Alex and for herself-- and the idea that she would shortly be relieved of command of the rescue mission by two people with centuries of experience in this sort of situation went a long way toward easing the pressure on her.

              Once again, she didn't have to knock-- in fact, the door to number 908 opened as soon as she came in sight of it. Gregory stepped out into the warm hall lighting, and Elise breathed a sigh, letting more of her tension go. “Gregory,” she greeted him, her relief apparent in her voice, as she restrained herself from running to him. Suddenly, she was holding back tears.

              “Elise,” he smiled tightly. As she drew up before him, he took both of her hands in his. “I'm glad you got here safely.” His grip was firm and steady, and she began to feel almost as secure as she did around Alex. She frowned a little, suddenly-- was that normal? Gently but decisively, she drew her hands back; well-intentioned as he may be, she didn't want anyone influencing her right now. She'd had her fill of vampire politics already, and she was well aware they had a long night ahead of them. “My apologies,” Gregory's voice was softly amused as he held the door open for her, continuing his disturbing trend of answering her thoughts.

              From inside the apartment, Elise heard a bitter laugh. “Already has you on her hook, does she, little brother?” Elise's eyes narrowed as she glided past Gregory and into the living room, disliking the tone before she even saw its owner.

              Sarah stood by the windows, a glass in her hand and her posture military-straight. Elise could see the physical resemblance between Gregory and his sister-- they had the same arching brow and full lips, the same wide cheekbones and slender hands. But there, the similarities ended. Sarah's hair was dirty blonde and pulled back into a tight ponytail; she was several inches shorter, broader and more sturdy in her build. There was a solid thickness of musculature in Sarah's core, neck, and wrists that her brother lacked. Gregory wasn't frail, but a glance at him showed that he belonged with a book in his hands. The same glance at Sarah told Elise that the woman was most at home holding a weapon.

              But the biggest difference was in their demeanor: just now, Sara's mouth was pressed into a hard line. Where Gregory maintained a casual, relaxed air, his sister exuded tensed readiness, bearing the mantle of vigilant near-violence in such a way that Elise was sure it was her constant, natural state. There was an unmistakable feeling of danger around her; this was a woman who lived for confrontation, and suddenly, Elise was more than ready to give it to her.

              Elise crossed the room in a few quick strides, going still scant inches from Sarah-- just far enough away that she didn't have to tilt her head back uncomfortably to meet her glare. “You must be Sarah,” she said, keeping her voice neutral. Perhaps she had learned something from Rashid about the useful difference between manner and words, she reflected.

              Sarah clearly knew that lesson well. “And Elise, the girl about whom I have heard so very little,” she said, matching her tone exactly. The icy malice in her eyes was in no way diminished by her bland voice, and it sent a pulse of anger tingling through Elise's fingertips.

              “Good,” she snapped. “Keep it that way. The last thing I need is yet another vampire prima dona vying for my attention.”

              Sarah snorted, taking a step closer so that she was invading Elise's space, forcing her to crane her head to continue to look her in the eyes. “An omnivore without vanity, who doesn't manipulate everyone around her to gain universal approval?” Sarah leaned down further so she could all but hiss in Elise's face. “Liar.”

              And suddenly Gregory was between them, one hand on Elise's wrist to keep her from swinging at his sister, and the other on Sarah's chest, propelling her backward. “Not. Helping.” He snapped, glaring at each of them in turn. He used his grip on Elise's arm to steer her over to the couches, firmly suggesting that she take a seat. Sarah stalked behind them, and Elise pointedly didn't look back at her, letting her see how little she threatened her. A low growl told her the other woman had gotten her point-- and Gregory's hand tightening warningly on her wrist let her know that he'd noticed, too. Thoughts that had the feel of his mind wafted through her own, reminding her that, untrained though she was and age non-withstanding, Elise was still the most powerful vampire in the room. With a sigh, Elise sat, arranging her skirts very deliberately as she took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the trembling tightness in her body. If she really did have the most influence over the mood in the room-- and from what she had learned, she was willing to agree that was likely-- then she had better be more focused on helping Alex.

              Sarah didn't seem to be quite as okay with the notion of working together, however: as she took a seat on the couch across from Elise, she was still glaring daggers at her. Elise could see her lips whitening from the force with which she pressed them together, as if she was holding herself back from another outburst. Gregory, meanwhile, was the portrait of calm as he settled beside his sister.

              “Now Elise,” he began seriously. “Do you mind if we go over everything that happened tonight once more? I think my sister would benefit from hearing it firsthand.”

              Elise nodded, not looking at Sarah. She had the feeling the other vampire's reactions to her tale would just piss her off again.

              Sarah didn't disappoint. Elise had no sooner told them about Rashid's ransom call, when Sarah spoke up. “Do you really believe this crap?” She burst out, slamming her glass onto the coffee table and turning to Gregory in disgust. “Rashid goes to the trouble of getting his hands on her phone number just to demand that she show up by sunrise, or never sees Alexander again?” Sarah sneered at her. “Some little girl has been watching too many movies.”

              “It's what happened,” Elise insisted shortly, trying to keep her gaze on Gregory and not rise to Sarah's bait.

              “Yeah, right,” Sarah snorted. “I think you concocted this cock and bull story to cover up the fact that you and Rashid were in this together.”

              Elise turned, very slowly, to look at her. “You think I had something to do with Alex's kidnapping?” Her voice dripped disdain.

              “Prove you didn't,” she snapped. “You're hiding something, girl-- don't think I can't tell.”

              “Enough, you two,” Gregory sat up straight, his eyes narrowed. “Casting blame right now isn't going to help anyone.” He turned to Elise. “Perhaps if we could see the note that Rashid left Alexander, it would help us to unravel what it was that lured him out so quickly.”

              Elise obediently fished the envelope out of Alex's backpack, handing it over to Gregory. “There was definitely something in there,” she said, fiddling with the tail of her braid as she thought out loud. “Something of mine, it seems like. And whatever it was, it convinced Alex that I was with Rashid.”

              Gregory was frowning at the card in his hand, his lips moving as he silently read the note to himself. Sarah leaned over his shoulder to read as well, then brushed her fingertips lightly over the page. Elise watched, fidgeting, as the siblings shared a look she couldn't decipher. Then Gregory glanced up at her, and froze.

              “Elise, have you cut your hair recently?” He asked carefully. She frowned, shaking her head.

              “No, I like it long.” She hesitated. “You don't think...”

              Gregory stood, coming around the coffee table to perch on the edge of the love seat beside her. “May I?” His eyes were on her hair as he asked permission, and when she nodded he took the end of her braid gently from her fingers. Running his hand down the twined length, he paused at a section Elise hadn't really noticed when she'd hurriedly styled her hair before school-- but the fact that a small tuft stuck out of the braid several inches before its end now seemed glaringly obvious. Elise's eyes widened as the blood drained from her face. “It wasn't like that a few days ago,” she whispered, recalling how carefully she had styled her hair before she had gone out to dinner-- she forcibly shut the thought down before Gregory could see its conclusion.

BOOK: Flicker
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