Ira

It was late, the dark of night broken only by the dim glow of city lights. A motel room is scattered with papers. They covered the floor and bed and were loosely clutched by the hand of a restless man gripped by an uneasy sleep. His false youth was marred by dark circles and the deep creases present even in sleep. He rested precariously on the edge of the bed where exhaustion had claimed him. He still wore the same dress shirt he had for two days now, too focused on his task to bother with clothes. Much time and effort had gone into his search, but it would come to an end now. Beside him, a laptop sat open but unused. Its dark screen flickered then blinked to life just as the window across the room changed. Glass warped and shifted like the water that once when it had held another form, had flowed over it, and allowed him to walk through. The glass clung to him, but only for a moment, before silently retreating to settle back into its own shape.

The intruder approached the bed and studied everything laid out on top of it. Picking up one of the papers he quickly inspected the column of numbers. He put it back down and scanned others. Invoices. There were no names or words to identify what of, but he recognized them for what they were.

Moving closer to the prone figure of his target he drew his dagger and pressed it against the slumbering man's throat. A knock came from the other side of the door startling him awake. The intruder slapped a hand over the target's mouth, muffling a surprised response, and lifted a finger to his own lips. For insurance, he pressed his dagger into the victim's skin causing a thin line of blood to appear. Wide eyes jumped from him to the door and back. The intruder tilted his head and soon the potential guest padded away. When they were gone the intruder removed his hand to reach for the papers spread out on the bed but did not remove the blade from his target's throat. He held up one of the invoices so his target could see it.

"Where did you get this?" he asked with barely a whisper.

A hard swallow then. "Who are you?"

"Not the right answer."

"Why should I tell you." He sneered, "You'll just kill me anyway."

Cold, almost disinterested, the intruder twisted the knife, drawing more blood, and warned "I won't ask again."

"Go to h-"

The intruder shifted and pressed a thumb into his target's eye, so deep he could feel tissue taring. the target let out a strangled scream and tried reaching to stop the pain but found he could not move. Panic made his tongue lose.

"The Harrington foundation!" he gasped "The orphanage is just a front for their underground operation! I was only supposed to – "

Stopping the onslaught of words with the force of his will, the intruder glanced around the room suddenly aware of another. "It seems we have a guest." He murmured then turning back to his victim, told him "Victoria says hello" And slit his throat.

Blinking I focused on the light fixture above me. I was shaking but wasn't sure why. There were so many things I'd seen and felt within the dreams; babies drowning in rivers, women raped, beaten then stranded in the woods, and men choking on their own skin. I've heard the strangled screams of little boys, the shattering of bones, and the taring of flesh. And yet of all these things, none had ever frightened me as much as this one did. I could still see his face. the killer with his strange indifference when taking a life. It was so cold I couldn't feel anything from him. There was no sadistic joy but nor was there any regret. It was as if there was a dark hole sucking at everything inside him, leaving an icy emptiness in its place. And yet his indifference, it was almost...

Comforting

And that terrified me more than anything.

Despite the chill of early northern spring the room felt stifling hot. Pushing myself out of bed I went to the window, pulled it open, and breathed in the cool fresh air. Crisp with the early morning frost, I let it clear my mind of the chaotic images still rattling around my brain and peered out at the quiet street down below. A lone light stood on one corner of a four-way stop, the luminous leaves sprouting from its post doing their best to fight the dark of night.

Two weeks since dad left and not a single word from him. I didn't know if I should be more worried about where he was or furious that he didn't take me with him. I knew he was trying to protect me but how was I supposed to be safe if I didn't know what he was protecting me from? Mindy knew something but wouldn't say what and I was getting tired of walking on eggshells all the time. I always had to watch what I said, afraid I'd let our past slip out and the ones we ran from would somehow find us. Well... find me. And my eyes, I couldn't control them. Even with Emma's help hiding their unnatural glow someone was bound to notice. Contacts were out of the question. The first time we tried using them they started melting the moment my eyes lit up and were hell to get out. Even if we could come up with a reason for me to wear the darkest sunglasses, we could find 24/7, the light was still visible through them. Nothing we tried could mask when it happened, so it was a constant game of who'd see first. Emma watched and acted as a distraction when needed while I kept my head down and avoided looking directly at anyone.

A prickle of sensation made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and suddenly the street seemed too quiet. Unsettled I drew away from the window and went back into bed but was too disturbed for sleep and I wouldn't have wanted to even if I could. Not when it meant I could end up going through years of torture instead of getting any real rest. Deciding to make use of the early morning I pulled out my books and finished the week's homework while carefully avoiding any thoughts about strangers or broken rules.

By the time evening came, I couldn't stop thinking. With all my homework done and classes barely being a distraction I couldn't not think about him. And to make matters worse I didn't have any work and so I was stuck with Emma for the day.

We were supposed to be studying for tomorrow's test. While I could pass without even trying, thanks to knowing just a bit too much, Wes and River had already failed our first two tests. Emma wanted to show some solidarity so all of us ended up here for an end-of-the-week study session. We were at Wesley's house because Wesley's Mother, Mrs. Stevens, loved to cook and River liked to eat, a trait that greatly endeared him to Mrs. Stevens. Today she had decided to slow roast an enormous chunk of beef. The delicious smells drifting upstairs were as much a distraction as a helpful motivator. When she finally called us down to eat it was already dark out and more than one stomach was growling

Potatoes, gravy, peas and corn, salad, and the roast were spread out buffet style on the counter and Mrs. Stevens was pulling out a stack of plates. River was first to reach the food and stopped only to grab a fork before spearing the biggest slice of meat. he bit into it and let out a moan of delight while the rest of us filed in behind him.

"Mm Mrs. Stevens," he said his slice and bowing his head in mock reverence "You are an angel sent from heaven!"

Shaking her head Mrs. stevens patted his cheek and handed him a plate.

"Manner's boy. I know you have some, use them" she said a soft southern lilt to her words. Giving her a cocky grin River took the plate from her while Wes grumbled something to JD that made him snort a laugh.

"Anything for you" River winked making Autumn roll her eyes and share a look with Emma just as the back door opened. Mr. Stevens, or Eric as he insisted, we call him, came striding in.

"Did I hear someone trying to butter up my wife again?" he asked, going straight to said wife for a kiss.

A brief flare of pain stabbed into my chest as I was reminded how much my own parents had once been like that.

"Hey, what can I say, man? If you don't hold on to her, I might just have to steal her away from you." River said around a mouth full of potatoes, then winked at Mrs. Stevens. "What do ya say? want to trade in the old bag for a younger prettier model? I can be very creative in the – fuck! What the hell man"

River scowled and rubbed his shoulder where Wes had landed a solid fist.

"She's my mom you pervert. If you want to get laid at least bother someone your own age"

River smirked "Is that you offering? Didn't think Em was into sharing."

Wes opened his mouth to respond but Mrs. Interrupted him.

"Boys!" she scolded "this is not a dinner conversation."

"But-"

A pointed look and Wes snapped his mouth shut but flipped River off as soon his mother's back was turned. River returned the gesture with a grin and quickly earned Mr. stevens forgiveness by asking him about his latest project while the rest of us stuffed our faces. Well, most of us. I picked at the food but couldn't bring myself to eat anything despite the lack of appetite since waking up. Instead, I listen to River and Mr. Stevens talk.

The Stevens lived in an old house, and like most old things, it was a constant battle to keep it from being run over. After buying it from its previous owner for next to nothing, they had been renovating it ever since. The copper ivy trying to take over the kitchen was just one of several remnants that had taken up residence on the property but were by far the most bothersome. Every few months it would invade the wiring forcing the Stevens to cut it down, dig it up and sell what they could to a local welder who used it to make jewelry, only for it to come back a few weeks later. This time Mr. Stevens was trying a new method of removal which primarily consisted of reinforced cement.

After dinner, we all ended up back in Wes's room to finish going over the last week's chapter. Wes and Emma sat together on his bed while Autumn took the spot on the end so JD, on the ground, could lean against her legs. River claimed the desk chair, so I sank down next to JD and opened my book to the page where we left off.

It showed a picture of an impossibly gaunt man, barely more than a skeleton, as he walked through the gates of Auschwitz. Next to the picture, several paragraphs described the horrors of the holocaust that hadn't come to light until almost a year after the war. In the mad scramble to make sense of a world in chaos, the concentration camp had been forgotten along with others. By the time someone had thought to check on them the only people left were those like the man in the photo.

"French-born immigrant, Nicholas Loupe 'the vampire' spent two years in Auschwitz before the day of slumber." JD read aloud. "After the Awakening doctors pointed to severe anemia and lack of nutrition as the cause of his inability to recover from the extreme conditions of Auschwitz. Soon after receiving transfusions Loupe developed the ability to track the location of those whose blood he had been given. But this newfound ability would come at a cost. Doctors discovered that loupe's body had stopped making its own blood cells. He spent the rest of his life relying on frequent transfusions and died in 1963 when his village experienced a shortage of blood donations."

A strange ringing seemed to echo in the quiet that followed. Nicholas loupe's story while unique was not unusual for one of the mages. Even with their unnatural youth, most mage didn't live long because their mutations would often become fatal and there was little modern science could do to help.

Leaning back, River let out a low whistle "Dame that's messed up. Could you imagine having to live off someone else's blood?"

JD said something in response, but it was drowned out by the ringing that grew closer.

As I studied the poor soul who'd suffered so much, I couldn't help but see little faces, all shriveled with age before their time. The memory of smoke assaulted my nose and the image before me blurred with another. Bodies, thousands of them, burning as he watched on.

"Ira?" I blinked up at River's concerned frown before remembering what he might see and quickly looked back down. "You ok there?"

Everyone stopped talking to look at us.

"Yeah" I shrugged catching Emma's brief moment of panic out of the corner of my eye "it's just sad, you know."

"Yeah..." River didn't sound convinced, but he let it drop. "Let's get this done. we only got a few more pages and I hear my bed calling."

After a few more hours of studying, we decided to call it quits. Everyone was tired and even Autumn seemed done with Emma constantly making out with Wes. The twins took off first leaving me and JD to wait on princess passion as she said goodbye to the Stevens. We dropped JD off back home and Emma crashed the second she made it to our room. Not even bothering with her shoes she faceplanted onto her bed and let out a long happy hum. The early morning and long day had left me bone-tired but still nowhere near ready for sleep, I took my time changing before laying face up on the low mattress I used.

What if I saw him again?

What if I didn't?

This was the worst part.

the knowing but not knowing.

"Emma?"

"Humm?" she hummed, already half asleep.

"Do you remember the guy I told you about last week?"

"Guy?"

"The that one saw me."

"mm."

I wasn't sure if she was still listening, but I felt the need to say it aloud. To acknowledge what I'd seen.

"I dreamt of him again."

It was quite so long that I was sure she had gone to sleep but then she rolled onto her side and squinted at me.

"Again?"

"Ya."

She sat up and rubbed her face.

"You said that never happens."

"I know.

"First, he sees you and now you're telling he's made a reappearance?" she sounded almost incredulous.

"Yep"

"What hell am I supposed to do with that? Is he real? Does he know who you are?" then as if she just realized what this could mean, "Can he find us?"

"No! ... At least I don't think so."

She cursed and flopped back down.

"Yeah," I sighed and we both stared up at the cracked ceiling because, really, that just about summed it up.