Edmund
On the way back to the hideout, I feel torn.
No, scratch that. I feel guilty.
No. It's not even that. There is a storm of emotions inside of me. I know I shouldn't be doing this. Any of this. I shouldn't be running after this girl. Vampires and humans don't mix. To make it clearer, vampire kings and ordinary human girls don't mix. I have no idea what I've been thinking.
All of this is in my mind as we're walking back. We're not talking. I know I should probably say something, anything. I don't want her to think that I've just taken advantage of her and that I won't give it a second thought. This situation isn't something I planned, but it is obviously something I have pursued with intention. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here. She wouldn't be here. I would simply mind my own business, which is the well.
She's walking behind me. I can hear her footsteps and the dry branches crunching underneath her feet. I expect her to say something. Women usually want to. They have this innate need to talk, even when the situation doesn't call for it.
Somehow, she doesn't. This makes me even more curious about her. She is so different from anyone else I've ever met. It makes me want to know all there is to know about her. This is when I surprise myself by being the first one to start talking.
"How did you end up in this place anyway?"
The sound of my own voice startles me. It almost sounds as if it's not my voice at all, but someone else's voice, someone who wants to sit down, right here, and listen to her talk for hours and hours. But we can't do that. No matter how much I'd like to.
I turn to her, to wait up, because she's started to lag behind. She lifts her long eyelashes at me, fluttering them like a butterfly's wings. Only, it's not to arouse me or to tease me. She's trying to remember something. Her mind is working behind those eyes, working hard at something that is obviously difficult for her.
"If it's personal, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," I tell her.
Shit, I think to myself. I wanted to ease the tension, instead I made it worse.
"No, it's not that," she suddenly tells me, with a dismissive half-shrug. "It's just that I don't really have much to say on the subject."
"What do you mean?" I ask, frowning. Her answer makes no sense. "How can you not know how you ended up somewhere?"
Now I'm even more curious than before.
"I was too little to be aware of it," she explains, as we keep walking.
She catches up to me, and now, our bodies are aligned, our feet moving together, slowly, as if neither of us is all that willing to reach our destination. I want to ask again what exactly that means, but she continues before I get the chance to do so.
"I was told that they found me by the side of the road, as a baby," she explains, as if that makes all the sense, while in fact, it doesn't. It makes an already mysterious situation even more enigmatic.
"What about your parents?" I can't keep myself from asking.
She looks ahead of her, into the lush greenery around us, the same greenery that is keeping me and my vampires hidden from plain sight.
"They were never found," she says, with a tone of melancholy in her voice. "There was no car, no vehicle of any sort. Not even a bicycle." She chuckles at the last words, at the obviously ridiculousness of the whole situation. "I mean, something must have happened to them, right?" she asks, but I immediately recognize it's a rhetorical question. She's not really asking for a response, because we both already know it. "Why else would someone leave a little baby, all alone, by the side of the road?"
There is sadness in her voice. There is also rage. I can understand all of that. This feeling of not belonging, of constantly having to fight to prove that you are worthy of someone, something. But I don't say any of that. I don't know why.
Sometimes, it is just safer to keep your mouth shut.
"And the shifters took you in?" I ask, instead of delving more deeply in the parents topic.
"Mhm," she nods, matter-of-factly. "They never told me this, but I think not everyone wanted me here. Sometimes, I think more shifters wanted me gone than having me stay, but still somehow, I stayed."
"Someone obviously wanted you here," I pointed out.
"Milena," she says, a name that doesn't mean anything to me, but the sound of that name lights up her face like a million little fireflies in the dark.
"Someone important?" I ask, but only so she would continue, so she would know that I am listening.
"She has been the only motherly figure I've known," she explains. "But that was only for a few years. Then she… died."
"I'm sorry to hear that," I say.
She turns to me finally, after what seems to be a small eternity of her face just staring into the distance, at some invisible spot visible only to her and no one else.
"She died years ago," she tells me. "Sometimes, I can't even see her face with my mind's eye anymore, and that frightens me more than anything else."
I think for a moment, then I ask. "Do you try to remember her with your eyes open?"
She frowns. "Yeah," she nods. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Try with your eyes closed," I say, stopping.
Slightly startled, she does the same.
"Relax," I instruct, taking her by the wrists and adjusting the position of her body so that she is now standing facing me. I let go, and she focuses her eyes on me. She is waiting. I guess I am also.
I wet my lips. I feel like something inside of me is in need of air, in need of water.
"Close your eyes," I tell her. I wait until she does it. She hesitates for a moment, then obeys.
I take this moment to look at her, to really look at her. For a moment, I am overtaken by how stunning she is. I don't know if she even knows this. I can see her fingers fidgeting nervously. She doesn't know what to expect, and yet, she trusts me enough to keep her eyes closed and wait patiently. That knowledge hits me like a ton of bricks.
I feel like shit. Like a bastard for giving in to my urges, when I know that we can't be together. I can't give her what she needs. It has nothing to do with my emotions, or hers. It is simply how things are.
"Now what?" she asks, interrupting my train of thought. Still, she doesn't open her eyes.
"Sorry," I grin. "Keep your eyes closed. Now, try to remember Milena."
I give her a moment or two. I can see her eyes fluttering underneath her eyelids. We're standing that close. I could lean in and kiss her. I know where it would lead. I fight this urge and focus on the present moment.
"Can you see her?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "Barely. It's like she's in a fog."
"Try to remember something she said," I continued, not getting discouraged.
"Like what?" she wonders, still with her eyes closed.
"Whatever," I shrug to myself. "Maybe a song she used to sing to you, some wise words you might remember."
"A song," she recognizes, nodding. Then, she starts humming. I can't tell what song it is, but it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is that Bianca is recognizing it as something that is connecting her to this woman who was the only mother she has ever known, even if it was for a very short while.
I let her hum for as long as she likes. I don't know how long we just keep standing there, probably looking like a pair of two idiots. But none of that matters. She is trying to remember someone important. I know what that feels like, not to be able to remember something important, something that you are so desperately afraid you might forget.
"I can see her!" she exclaims loudly, squeezing her eyes tightly shut now. She is smiling. Her lips reveal a row of pearly white teeth.
"You can?" I ask. "What does she look like?"
"She has the most melodious voice in the world," she tells me. "Her lips are small, full, almost… pouty, as if she's upset about something."
"Probably that she can't be here with you," I say. "But… you have me."
Suddenly, her eyes pop wide open, as if someone slapped her out of this reverie.
I don't know where this last sentence came from. It surely wasn't planned. I didn't mean to say it. I didn't even think about it. And yet, it is out of my mind. It crossed the threshold of my lips, and now it is occupying this space between us, revealing something neither of us is willing to deal with right now.
"I mean, I'm here to keep you safe," I tell her, clearing my throat. "Those shifters won't harm you as long as I'm around."
I have no idea if that clarified anything, but I'm glad I said something, anything really. Silence would be too revealing, much more revealing than any words could be.
She smiles. She seems to understand. At least, I hope she does.
"I really appreciate this," she says, sounding a little awkward, but I see she also wants to clarify things. "All this," she adds, gesturing around her with her arms wide, as if she's thanking me for giving her the entire woods around us. "You didn't have to help me."
I scratch the back of my head, sighing. "I feel guilty. Somewhat."
"Aha," she chuckles. "You finally admit it."
"I guess," I smirk. "But I did save you as well."
"You saved me and put me in more trouble than I was, at the same time," she laughs.
She has the most harmonious laughter. I can't help but listen to it intently, getting lost in it.
"Yeah, sounds about right," I agree, seeing no other way out. But it's all good. She's not saying it because she's upset. We've reached a certain understanding. "We should probably head back," I tell her, and she quickly nods.
We continue walking, but this time, that tension in the air between us is gone. It dissipated. I don't know where it disappeared off to, but I hope it won't be back. We're still silent, but it's a good kind of silence.
We reach the hideout, and I notice that everyone is looking at her weirdly. I tell Kano to gather everyone around, so I can explain why Bianca is here. I doubt any of them know her from the shifter town, but I need everyone to be on the same page here. I am responsible for her, but if I am not around, I expect them to jump in, if necessary.
Kano nods and starts gathering everyone. Bianca seems a little nervous. I near her and squeeze her hand. It feels clammy.
"Don't worry," I assure her. "It'll be fine."
"I'm OK," she nods, although she sounds apprehensive.
I know I would be as well. Once again, she is in a new place, surrounded by people she doesn't know. After all, we are enemies. She's always been taught that. How does one change such a conviction almost overnight?