Free Blacker than Black by Rhi Etzweiler Page B
Authors: Rhi Etzweiler
room to breathe, yes?” Without touching, he guides the two rivals away from our couch and draws them into conversation elsewhere.
I know from experience that when the aura weakens, the mind scrambles to find different paths to travel. Paths of less resistance within the brain. Memories. And the pictures flash across a Nightwalker’s vision like waking dreams.
This party is pushing me too far. Being in physical contact with Jhez helps. Our energy bleeds together when we touch, so she’s taking the brunt of all the dips into my aura. Despite the glares Garthelle tosses at the most daring of his guests, they still tug shards from my stomach where I’ve pooled my chi. It feels like they’re skinning me one sliver at a time, inch by excruciating inch, until they withdraw their hands. I want to scream.
Every time one of them moves away, pictures flash through my mind. Memories, old ones. Not all of them pleasant. Things I haven’t thought about in years. I see the house we lived in when we were young. When we still had parents, a normal life. Before the world crumbled down around our ears and reformed itself into this nightmare of existence we now know.
Saturday mornings full of mindless cartoon entertainment, sharing a bowl of sugary cereal with Jhez, curled up on the couch. The sunlight of a cloudless summer day warming our skin as we jump through the sprinkler in the backyard. The sound of dogs barking, children’s laughter. That unmistakable smell of summertime, of green growing things and the damp cool feel of the turf and soil against the soles of my feet.
Another hand flutters over my abdomen, the invasive presence shattering the memories into a thousand sharp shards in my brain. They tumble away into nothingness, and I open my eyes with an involuntary gasp. The ceiling looks very, very far away. As if I’m staring up at it from the bottom of a well. Why a vampire would have fluffy summer clouds painted on the ceiling is beyond my capacity to grasp.
Is that our father, there?
“Did he come back for us, finally?” Something’s wrong in the carriage, the profile. Memories blur with reality, superimposed what was over what is. “Tell him to sod off. Better yet, let him come over here and I’ll tell him.”
Jhez flares her aura in mine, her hand on my chest suddenly haloed a brilliant hue of scarlet. Alarmed but trying to calm me. I recall her doing that before, but couldn’t say when. Just know the sensation is familiar, that blend of emotions, that color, swirling in my aura.
I don’t remember the details. Those days, when he left and didn’t come back, they blur together, skip like one of the old compact discs, scratched beyond redemption. Error—Cannot Read Disc.
“Deep breaths.” My sister’s words soothe as fingers sink into my hair, stroking my scalp. I force myself to inhale as the vampire moves away. Garthelle’s voice reaches me, rumbling on a low register. He sounds tense, angry. I could close my eyes and point directly to where he is without the assistance of his voice. His aura brushes up against mine like the radiant heat from a bonfire on a chilly winter night in the woods.
Like that camping trip we took in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. A harsh place in late November. Why we went then, I will never understand. But the sky, the stars. Never before, and never again since, have I seen so many stars twinkling against the black velvet of the midnight sky. As if someone tossed a million flawlessly cut diamonds across the top of the world. And the sounds, oh, the tranquility of the world without humanity. Not quiet or still, not by any measure. The thrum of bullfrogs, tree frogs, crickets and other nocturnal creatures. It was the most beautiful symphony I’ve ever heard.
The memories string together, broken sporadically by sharp, gouging pain, only to flood over my senses once again. Like the rhythm of the ocean’s tide. I lose myself in it, until I no longer know where I am, or
I know from experience that when the aura weakens, the mind scrambles to find different paths to travel. Paths of less resistance within the brain. Memories. And the pictures flash across a Nightwalker’s vision like waking dreams.
This party is pushing me too far. Being in physical contact with Jhez helps. Our energy bleeds together when we touch, so she’s taking the brunt of all the dips into my aura. Despite the glares Garthelle tosses at the most daring of his guests, they still tug shards from my stomach where I’ve pooled my chi. It feels like they’re skinning me one sliver at a time, inch by excruciating inch, until they withdraw their hands. I want to scream.
Every time one of them moves away, pictures flash through my mind. Memories, old ones. Not all of them pleasant. Things I haven’t thought about in years. I see the house we lived in when we were young. When we still had parents, a normal life. Before the world crumbled down around our ears and reformed itself into this nightmare of existence we now know.
Saturday mornings full of mindless cartoon entertainment, sharing a bowl of sugary cereal with Jhez, curled up on the couch. The sunlight of a cloudless summer day warming our skin as we jump through the sprinkler in the backyard. The sound of dogs barking, children’s laughter. That unmistakable smell of summertime, of green growing things and the damp cool feel of the turf and soil against the soles of my feet.
Another hand flutters over my abdomen, the invasive presence shattering the memories into a thousand sharp shards in my brain. They tumble away into nothingness, and I open my eyes with an involuntary gasp. The ceiling looks very, very far away. As if I’m staring up at it from the bottom of a well. Why a vampire would have fluffy summer clouds painted on the ceiling is beyond my capacity to grasp.
Is that our father, there?
“Did he come back for us, finally?” Something’s wrong in the carriage, the profile. Memories blur with reality, superimposed what was over what is. “Tell him to sod off. Better yet, let him come over here and I’ll tell him.”
Jhez flares her aura in mine, her hand on my chest suddenly haloed a brilliant hue of scarlet. Alarmed but trying to calm me. I recall her doing that before, but couldn’t say when. Just know the sensation is familiar, that blend of emotions, that color, swirling in my aura.
I don’t remember the details. Those days, when he left and didn’t come back, they blur together, skip like one of the old compact discs, scratched beyond redemption. Error—Cannot Read Disc.
“Deep breaths.” My sister’s words soothe as fingers sink into my hair, stroking my scalp. I force myself to inhale as the vampire moves away. Garthelle’s voice reaches me, rumbling on a low register. He sounds tense, angry. I could close my eyes and point directly to where he is without the assistance of his voice. His aura brushes up against mine like the radiant heat from a bonfire on a chilly winter night in the woods.
Like that camping trip we took in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. A harsh place in late November. Why we went then, I will never understand. But the sky, the stars. Never before, and never again since, have I seen so many stars twinkling against the black velvet of the midnight sky. As if someone tossed a million flawlessly cut diamonds across the top of the world. And the sounds, oh, the tranquility of the world without humanity. Not quiet or still, not by any measure. The thrum of bullfrogs, tree frogs, crickets and other nocturnal creatures. It was the most beautiful symphony I’ve ever heard.
The memories string together, broken sporadically by sharp, gouging pain, only to flood over my senses once again. Like the rhythm of the ocean’s tide. I lose myself in it, until I no longer know where I am, or