Flicker (46 page)

              Sarah snorted. “You omnivores rarely mean anyone harm. And yet, somehow, bystanders keep dropping.”

              Elise looked away, thinking of the deadline looming in her future. How many bystanders were about to be hurt because of her actions?

              She heard Sarah sigh, and had the distinct impression that she voiced her next words very reluctantly. “All things considered, you could have done worse, I suppose.” Elise blinked at the other woman disbelievingly. “It's true,” Sarah said heavily. “You didn't have to stop them fighting-- you could have let Alexander kill Rashid.” Her eyes were narrowed, but just faintly, Elise detected a grudging respect. “He'd be even worse off right now, if that'd happened. Your way was better.”

              Elise accepted her praise graciously, and for a moment they sat in silence. “He's right, you know,” Elise said softly, watching the peaceful scene of a young couple pushing a baby in a stroller down the sidewalk. “Rashid, I mean. I think he's right about the unbalance in the Court.”

              “I know.” Sarah's gaze was far-off, her fists clenched. “You want to be careful who you say that to, because most of us don't. But I know.”

              It was evening, and her friends had gone, before Elise sat down alone in her room to read the other letter-- the one she'd used her friends' preoccupation over the Queen's summons to hide in her pocket. There was no name on the return address, but it was postmarked from Allison Springs. Whatever was in that envelope, Elise needed to be alone when she read it.

              After her shower, she sat cross-legged on her bed, just staring at the plain white envelope for a long time. She had changed so much over the past week, let alone in the last month-- had she moved on enough that she could read whatever was in there? Had she moved on enough that she shouldn't? It was clear that she couldn't pretend that part of her past hadn't happened anymore-- she was going to have to face it, and continue to face it until she could overcome all the damage that had been done to her. But if facing off against Rashid had taught her anything, it was that what had happened to her three years ago wasn't her fault.

              When she'd decided to seduce Rashid, to use her power to make him desire her beyond any point of reason, she had begun to truly understand that aspect of her abilities. Despite what Rashid had once said to her, what she had done to him was night and day from what she had encouraged in her fellow students in her old school. She had made him want her, stolen away his will and his reasons not to take her right there on the filthy cement floor. She would have to live with that for the rest of her life-- and was already paying for the deed with her vivid nightmares.

              But what she'd wanted at Allison Springs High School was to be loved, to be admired, to have friends. Elise had come to grips with the fact that her power had most likely influenced people who would otherwise not have cared about her to hang on her every word. But nowhere in her intentions, even subconsciously, had been the idea that anyone should find her irresistibly sexy. She knew what that felt like now, inciting others to that drive-- she hadn't even approached the idea three years ago. Staring down at the harmless-looking envelope sitting on her comforter, Elise finally let herself off the hook. Her rape had not been her fault-- responsibility for the decision to attack her lay squarely on the shoulders of the boys who had done the deed.

              Feeling lighter than she had in years, Elise fearlessly tore open the envelope. Inside, on a few sheets of lined paper, was a handwritten letter.

              “Dear Elise,

              “I'm sorry if I'm intruding by writing to you-- I swear, after this I will never bother you again. But after you came back to town, after what you said to me, I couldn't just leave things the way we did.

              “I lied to you. I guess that's sort of a habit, and I'm sorry, again. But I lied when I said I don't think about what we did to you.

              “Every day, I drive past the high school on my way to work, and I remember. I see the kids who go to school there laughing, and I remember how you used to laugh when I saw you in the hallways. And then I remember how you looked at me while my friends hurt you, and how I never saw you laugh again.

              “I see my girlfriend every day, and most of the time everything is fine. But then sometimes, she'll tilt her head a certain way or make some remark, and for some reason it reminds me of what we did to you. That whole scene will play in my head like a movie, and it's like getting punched in the face-- I'm going on with my normal life, and then I'm suddenly reminded that I'm just pretending.

              “You asked me why. There are so many “why” questions that you deserve answers to, and I only feel more guilty that for a lot of those, I really don't know. Why did we have to attack anyone? I don't know. Why was it you? I don't know. But I can tell you why I didn't help you, and I can tell you why I lied. You deserve that much.

              “I'm a coward, Elise. I pretend every day that I'm not, but the truth that I hide from everyone else is that I'm terrified. That day, even with your eyes fixed on me, begging me for help, I couldn't move. I was too scared to stand up for you. If I told you every second until I die that I'm sorry, it still wouldn't be enough. I can never give you back what we-- what I-- took from you that day.

              “I didn't help you because I was afraid of my friends-- what they would think of me, what they might do to me. Better you than me, I thought; I was wrong. But I lied in court because I was afraid of my family, and of myself. I couldn't stand the thought of my parents looking at me like I was a monster. They didn't raise me to be that way-- they're good people-- and it was easier to pretend that you had wanted it. I didn't want to think of myself as the kind of person who hurts someone, or stands by and lets other people hurt someone. I wanted to pretend that it was your fault. Once I started lying, it came out so much more easily than the truth. But I'm still a coward, because I know the truth, and every day I'm terrified that someone will find out how pathetic I really am.

              “If there was any way I could go back and change that day, or any of the days that followed, I would. As it is, I don't know what I can do, but if there is anything that will make your life better, you only have to tell me and I'll do it. I figure you probably never want to hear from me again, and like I said I won't contact you without your permission, but if you want to write or call or find me again, even if it's just to tell me you hate me, you know where I am.

              “In the meantime, I want you to know that you coming here and talking to me changed things for me. I realized I can't keep pretending. My girlfriend isn't from here, and didn't know about what I did to you. I sat down with her last night and told her everything. I haven't heard from her since. I don't know if she'll ever speak to me again. I went to see my parents, too-- I told them the truth about what happened that day. They looked at me like I was terrified they would, but the little boy I was when I helped my friends attack you is glad that I finally started to be a man. It's taken long enough. My biggest regret is that it has come too late to help you.

              “God bless you, Elise. I hope more than anything that you're able to find some peace, and to live a full, happy life.

                                          “All the best,

                                          William Bates”

              Elise read the letter over once, and then again. By the third time through, she had begun to commit the words to memory. She sat for a while longer, Bill's words echoing in her head. Scenes from after the attack-- things that had happened in the hospital, when she went home, and during the trial-- played over and over before her mind's eye, re-framed by her new surety, by the perspective that was now ratified by one of the only people who could have told her anything new about that day. Slowly, she began to smile.
One down
, she thought, her mental voice both triumphant and vicious.

              Suddenly, she stood, sliding the letter back into the envelope as she crossed to her dresser. After one final glance at it, she slipped it into the bottom of her jewelry box, shifting things around until it was entirely hidden. Then she sat down at her desk and pulled out the formal stationary she usually reserved for sending thank-you cards to her grandparents.

              “Dear Madam,” Elise began the missive. Her pen hovered over the heavy paper as she paused to meet her own bright eyes in the mirror. It was time to stop living in the past; life would only move forward, and it was high time she moved with it. “My escort and I would be delighted to accept your gracious invitation,” she wrote carefully, smiling to herself. She was going to Russia.

              Later that night, the three vampires sat in Alexander's living room, nursing mugs of coffee as they dragged out the last evening before Gregory took Sarah to the airport. Their conversation generally stayed away from troublesome topics, like how Alexander had been doing this past week, or where Rashid was now; despite the bland subject matter, after a while, Alexander noticed that Sarah seemed to be wrestling with herself silently. “What's wrong?” Alexander asked his old friend softly during a lull in the conversation.

              Sarah sighed. Her grip was relaxed enough on her coffee mug, but her eyes were set with tension. “I'm having trouble understanding why you're still with this girl,” she said after a moment. “Her heart may be in the right place-- I'm not exactly sold on that-- but I don't trust her.”

              As Alexander hesitated, Gregory looked between his two companions. “
Are
you still with her?” He asked astutely, watching Alexander's face closely.

              “Should I be?” Alexander returned, his sharp eyes boring into Gregory, who'd had the most opportunity to make an unbiased study of Elise's actions over the past month. “Can I trust her?”

              Gregory shrugged, looking away for a moment. “It depends,” he said softly. “On what you're looking for.” Meeting Alexander's eyes directly, he continued. “She was willing to do anything,
anything
to save you last weekend.” He hesitated. “But if you want assurances that she's going to tell you the whole truth absolutely all the time...” He trailed off, and then sighed. “She'll feel bad about this for a while, so you'll probably get a few months of complete honesty from her. But she's too used to having secrets, and too good at lying. In short,” Gregory added, pinning Alexander with a pointed glance. “She's very much like you in that regard.” Alexander winced at that dig, the many things he still hadn't told Elise-- several of them relevant to their impending visit to the Court-- running through his mind.

              “So, there's every chance you'll end up in a situation like this again. Let's not forget that.” Sarah leaned back, surveying both of her companions shrewdly. “She used you, Alexander, and she'll use you again.” Her words were harsh, but her voice was even, and Alexander couldn't deny the likely truth of her statement. “She's a born politician, and that inclination is only going to get stronger as she becomes involved with the Court.”

              Alexander chuckled at her tone of revulsion as she spoke about the Court. “So you're most definitely not petitioning for an audience as well, so you can come with us?”

              “I'm not going anywhere near that nest of vipers,” Sarah snorted. “To be honest, I don't see how you can.”

              “There's a storm coming,” Alexander said simply, his gaze turning distant as he looked out the dark window. “Some people may run from it, but that's not in me.” He turned back to his friends. “You know me-- I'm too much of a politician as well, and too invested in what happens at the Court. There's nothing in the world that could make me run from the storm she's going to bring with her-- I intend to ride it out in the eye.”

              Sleet rattled the windows and wind howled outside as an early winter storm swept over Willowdale, but inside Alex's living room, Elise was warm and comfortable. She was sitting sideways on the couch, her legs stretched out in front of her so that her feet almost touched Alex's leg. He sat at the other end, his laptop on his lap. When he'd first turned it on, Elise had peered over his shoulder to see if he was doing some sort of top-secret vampire activity, but unless playing Age of Empires counted, she highly doubted it. He'd laughed at her expression of surprise.

              His laughter had had an edge to it, however, and after a moment, he'd rounded his shoulders in such a way that encouraged Elise to take her seat at the other end of the couch, where she wasn't so close to him. She'd settled down with a blanket over her lap and opened her worn copy of
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
, but it was hard for her to focus. She kept glancing up at Alex worriedly, a fact that he seemed uncharacteristically unaware of. After what had happened last weekend, they hadn't actually talked about anything important-- what Rashid had done to Alex, Elise's clandestine meetings, the fact that Elise had let Rashid walk away, or the looming deadline ahead of her. But the silence between them, the neutral glances and lack of contact, was eating at her.

              Finally, Elise sighed, putting her book down and stretching out her toes to nudge Alex's leg. When he looked up at her questioningly, she said gently, “We need to talk.” He raised his eyebrows, inviting her to continue, but the coolness of the gesture made Elise bite her lip as a shot of fear made her heart stutter. “You aren't... are you mad at me?” She asked quietly.