I reached out to shut the water off but yanked my arm back from the hot torrent. “Well, that was stupid.” With a three-quarters rotation with my index finger, the handle turned smoothly to the right and shut off.
I stepped out of the shower without waiting to towel off, lest the voice, whatever it was, returned for another chance to boil me alive.
I grabbed the plush cornflower blue towel off the hook by the shower and looked in the mirror as I began to pat myself dry. No harm done. I took a step closer. Actually, it might have done some good. I’d tried not to look at myself too closely when I’d gotten into the shower. The small glance I’d taken showed my skin ashen and my face slack. Now my skin was glowing, the red already fading into my normal light-brown color, leaving me healthy and robust-looking.
Upon closer inspection, the only parts of me that didn’t look up to snuff were my eyes. They looked tired, scared, and a bit hard. Not to mention there were huge bags underneath them. Using my pinky, I stretched one of them toward the side of my face, causing it to smooth out. I couldn’t do much about the tired, deadish eyes, but I could do something about the bags. I hated to do it. It seemed so shallow to use power to affect my physical appearance. It was kind of a witch taboo. Those that broke that unspoken rule were often looked down upon and snubbed. We were supposed to have higher aspirations for our power than a face-lift. I’d only given in to the temptation a couple of times during my teenage years. Even though I hadn’t been in public high school, kids are kids, and acne is fair game for ridicule no matter who or what you are. I didn’t even use power to take away my pastry belly when that started forming a couple of years ago.
Then again, I had just finished up a rather intense drug/sex binge. Did I really need to be concerned about breaking a few more social taboos? Plus, I was willing to bet Caitlin used her power somewhat regularly. Her neon hair color collection stayed a little too vibrant for a little too long. I highly doubted she was home every other night coloring her hair. And after all, I was going to see the nymphs. Wouldn’t want to look all bedraggled…
Justifications cataloged and then pushed aside, I raised the four fingers of each hand under their respective eyes, making little concave arches over the bags. Focusing my intention on the skin under my fingertips, I closed my eyes and breathed slowly, taking long, deep breaths.
After a few moments, I pulled my hands away and inspected. Perfect. Skin healthy and taut. No dark circles, no puffy luggage under my eyes. The skin probably hadn’t looked so good since I was eight. Probably no one would notice, but if anyone did, I would bet it would be Caitlin.
My eyes caught their own gaze in the mirror, and I gave a loud burst of laughter. Who else besides a gay boy had a voice in his head that tells him something big is coming and tries to turn him into a lobster, and then he gets distracted by the bags under his eyes?
Turning from the mirror, I finished drying off. No more worrying about my appearance, and no more worrying about the damn voice in my head. Whatever the fucker wanted, it was going to have to wait. I needed to focus. I wasn’t sure exactly why I needed to go to the cliffs. I doubted the nymphs would even show. I didn’t even need them to. I just needed to be there. I needed to get a hold of myself, and I knew I needed to begin there.
I glanced at the digital clock by my bed. Four in the morning. It was going to be cold on the cliff at this time of night, especially if there was wind.
I threw on some clothes and was ready to go. Already heading to the door, I paused. If I was going to do this, I really needed to do it. To do it all the way.
I returned to my bed, sat, and pulled out a small velvet pouch from under my pillow. In an act of betrayal, my heart clenched as I opened it and emptied its contents into my palm. A five-dollar bill, a set of keys, and his driver’s license. The only items that had been in Brett’s pockets the night the vampire shredded his car. The night Sonia was killed.
I fingered the money, then folded it again, slipping it back in the pouch. The keys I held longer, tracing the etched grooves on their sides, turning them over and over again in my hands.
This was all I had of Brett. This was all Brett had had of Brett. We’d not retrieved any of the stuff from his house before he’d disappeared.
After returning the keys to the pouch, I took the ID in my hands. I stared at his face in the tiny picture. Even in his driver’s license photo, he was beyond male-model stunning. His perfectly wavy blond hair and gorgeous blue eyes seemed to glisten. His beautiful mouth and jaw set upon a godlike neck and shoulders. He wore an icy-blue shirt, which complemented his fair porcelain skin perfectly. How could anyone look at him and not instantly know he was descended from angels? He had demon perfection written all over him.
Again, I wondered about the ID. I hadn’t mentioned it to Brett, but I was willing to bet this little card had led to Sonia’s death. Brett had retrieved it out of the glove compartment of his car when we’d found it destroyed in Old Town. In my mind, I could see the vampire going through Brett’s things in the car, finding this, memorizing the address before he put it back, and then making a little house call. I supposed it was also an option that he’d been following Brett after the assault in the alley, but for some reason, my interpretation felt truer.
How was I going to get rid of this? It was all I had of him. The money and the key, I could do that, sure, if I had to. Those would be hard enough, but his license? It was the only picture I had of him. And as much as I loved him, and as beautiful as he was, I knew that his image would fade in my mind. As impossible as it seemed, I might not even be able to picture him at all without this photo. How was I supposed to deal with that?
Why was I doing this to myself? Hadn’t I just decided it was time to move on? To live again? To do that, this had to go. I couldn’t sleep with it under my pillow every night. I couldn’t even have it in my home where I could dig it out and stare into his face, praying I’d hear his voice from behind me. Praying I’d hear a knock at the door. Praying he’d show up saying he’d been wrong, that he’d worked through his relationship issues, and that he wanted to be with me again.
In self-disgust, I shoved the license in with the keys and money and rose from the bed. Refusing to let my mind focus on anything specific, I grabbed my keys and went out to the truck.
Thechill of the air did as much to make me feel like myself again as the shower had—at least the initial part of the shower. The peace of the forest fell over me as I made my way up to the cliff. At first, I’d used my light ball to illuminate the path. Even though it wasn’t fire, just pure light energy, it made me think of Brett, his hands burning. I flicked it away, and it dissipated before it could touch the ground. Even without it, the stars and moon were still bright enough that I had no trouble seeing. And in some ways, the naturalness of it all made it seem even more magical.
I stopped as I exited the woods. I’d been here countless times. All of the witches’ weddings and funerals were held here—in addition to the celebrations, holidays, and religious ceremonies. Even so, I’d never grown fully accustomed to it. No more than a person can get used to sunrises and sunsets—at least not a person who wants to see the wonder of life around them.
As if on cue, the sunrise began to dawn. I couldn’t move. Beyond the edge of the cliff and the twisted willow standing alone on its brink, the sky grew to an intense pink, brushes of orange and purple deepening and fading as the day was born.
With the forest at my back, the stars above me, and the sunrise illuminating the sky and sea in front of me, I walked slowly up the cliff toward the willow.
Already, I could feel tears slowly traveling down my cheeks and falling off my jaw to the ground below. I was overwhelmed by the beauty. Overwhelmed by the sadness. The last two times I’d been here had been with Brett. The last, less than an hour before he left me, before he disappeared, leaving without a trace.
By the time I’d nearly reached the willow, I knew I’d made the right decision. I also knew it was going to be harder than I ever fathomed. I managed to make it to the base of the roots before I fell to my knees, the sobs making it too difficult to make the last few feet to the trunk. Even so, the outermost branches fell in cascading streams above my head.
I stayed there, knees growing moist as they sank into the damp ground. After a moment, I let my hands crash to the ground as well, as I sobbed on my hands and knees. I couldn’t back out. I had to do this. I had to let him go. Had to let my sorrow go. I had to live. I had to gain control over my life once more.
Unable to stop the tears, I sank my fingers into the soft earth, the grass and moss allowing me entrance. I kicked off my shoes and socks and let my toes sink into the dirt as well.
I buried my fingers up to the knuckles of my fist. Unable to stop, I sank even farther, until my hands were submerged up to the wrists. Without any effort, I stretched my fingers out so my hands were flat, parallel with the surface of the earth an inch or so above. The ground enclosing my hands showed no indication of my presence underneath, but remained flat and serene.
Letting my tears continue to fall, I shut my eyes as tight as I could and began to call all my energy to my core. I could feel it building in my chest and stomach, feel it churning inside of me, a soft greenish light that grew to the point I could see it reflected behind my eyes. I called it forth, beckoning it to grow, demanding that it remember me, even through the neglect it had suffered.
Once I felt I could ensnare it no more, I sent it forth, shooting down my arms and legs, the invisible green light passing through my fingers and toes and spreading out to the earth around me.
