The First Evil Ch. 03

It took me a moment to truly feel myself again, the weightless sense of floating felt like it had become part of my flesh. The power from the kiss still raced through my body making my muscles tingle and my bones burn. It was as if he'd blown the cobwebs from my mind with that kiss. A lifetime of accumulated dust and debris I hadn't been aware of gone in a rush of power. The same way I was feeling the missing part of myself, the part that I could still feel now even with him gone. The place at my side where he should have been felt tender like a fresh scar but not empty, more like we'd been built to fit together but could also stand alone. The distinctive places where we fit merely giving us our own individuality instead of blending us together.

I could think more clearly now, with the clarity and perspective as if I were still above my life looking at it from every angle. More, my body felt fantastic. None of the aches and pains and discomfort that had been with me for my entire life were present now.

The power still circling through me seemed to be growing with every revolution, becoming part of me, finding its match in me. I hadn't been aware of any latent power in my self until now, not that I'd been delusional enough to think I'm normal. Powerful just wouldn't have been an adjective I'd associate with myself. I couldn't help but feel it now. My senses were beginning to register information as my brain searched for a reference that explained the things I'd never been able to be aware of before. The sound of footsteps muffled by layers of concrete, the cadence of breath from another room, the smell of the linoleum tiling the halls and the briny smell of soapy water in a metal tub.

I haven't even opened my eyes and I know exactly where I am and where everything around me is. A sparkling sense of awe filled me, almost exactly the same thing I'd felt earlier looking at the waving golden fins flutter in the water. Innocent wonder. I haven't felt innocent anything in at least a decade but now the world felt new and fresh. No, I feel new and freshly able to interpret the world. Effervescent bubbles of excitement and joy tingled through me and I could feel them more deeply. I felt like a shaken champagne bottle primed to explode and it was wonderful.

A familiar scent approached me and I rack my mind to figure out what it is. I know it's another one of those things I've never been able to really identify before. Unlike some of the other things around me, this is something I know intimately, just not as intricately as I could experience it now. It hit me. Juliet's perfume and Rachel's shampoo blending with the scents that were just a part of them. Overlaying those scents a sour smell I felt I should know but couldn't place. Voices began to filter to me in words instead of being relegated to the steady hum of background noise I'd been hearing and ignoring without thought.

M"Baby you need to just chill out. Something ... horrible happened to you tonight and I know you need to deal with it how ever you ... do. But you're sounding really crazy and I would like for you to just sit and explain to me what you're thinking," Rachel's voice was overly calm and steady with an undertone of tension, the way you'd talk down a person standing on a ledge or holding up a convenience store. It was a cop voice, good thing Rachel's a cop I guess, but I'd never heard her use it on Jules. I'm actually having a hard time remembering Rachel ever speak in anything less than indulgent tones with Jules. We've all always joked that Rachel saves all her anger for the bad guys.

B"You don't know. You don't understand, you can't," her voice sounded shattered, like she'd cried and screamed for hours and still didn't know what emotion to feel. My heart broke at her tone, even as questions arose with her words.

Our last "conversation" came to me and I remembered what she said about infection and controlling my self. What had she meant? Will she even be happy that I'm not dead? It hurt me to think it but I wouldn't bury my head in the sand about our friendship. It's real or it isn't, and I need to know either way, no pretending that everything's ok, even though that's exactly what I want to do. I need to know what the hell is going on here.

I quickly began to do reaction and reflex tests on myself, wiggling my toes, touching my thumb and fingers together simultaneously, rotating my feet and hands and head. Yup everything still works. I still hadn't opened my eyes. I knew what I'd see; I can smell the cotton and the too strong detergent the hospital used. The white sheet that had been pulled up over my face after I'd been declared dead. I probably would have been DOA except for Dr. Martin making them try and work on me. Try to get them to perform a miracle. I knew I had been dead, I'd understood that I would be coming back to that added complication when he had asked me. But somehow seeing the sheet pulled up over my face was simply one thing too much for me to process right now.

"Please just let me do this alone. I don't need you to come with me ... you just can't understand ... you shouldn't see," desperation crept into her already anguished sounding voice. "I need to do this alone."

"And I need to stay with you right now. You know Rory was my friend too, maybe I don't want to be alone right now," her voice did seem sad but it sounded more cajoling than anything and I wondered what must Juliet look like right now to bring out the crisis management training in Rachel.

I reached up and pulled the sheet from my face before opening my eyes. Looking straight into a light fixture directly above me.

"Fuck!!" the bright florescent light seared my eyes stabbing pain into my temple. I shut my eyes and sat up gingerly so I wasn't staring right into the light again before I slit my eyes open, carefully. Don't ask me why I'm such a dumbass that I can't make the logical leap from increased senses to increased vision and what that might mean.

VThe world was pulsing with colors and the harsh lighting accented even the tinniest details which I couldn't help but focus on. The pain in my temples was spreading across my forehead from the sensory overload. I'd kill for the grey distortion of my contacts right now. "Jesus Christ, that hurts," my eyes were watering even as they adjusted to the brilliant intensity of my new vision. I didn't have time to appreciate the new way light was reflecting off of the dust motes or how I could see even the tiniest details of the fabric I was now clutching to my chest. Juliet and Rachel were standing not twenty feet from me with differing levels of shock coloring their faces.

They always looked like they should be on the cover of some magazine when they were together, they were both so beautiful and such a perfect compliment for each other. Juliet with her petite pixie flawlessness, enhanced by the whimsically cut hair and the warm eyes the color of the inside of a honey comb. Rachel who stood more than six inches above her at 5'9". Her hair, a dark almost auburn brown and her blue eyes were the color of the sea in the tropics. A statuesque figure that Juliet and I had always harassed her for not dressing for completed the package. She'd never quite grown out of her tomboy phase, and could usually, when not in uniform, be found in jeans and a vintage tee shirt. Like now, only she'd added a faded college zip up to the look in deference to the cooling autumn nights.

Juliet was still wearing the short red dress from earlier though now it was coated with blood. My blood. She recovered first and anger transformed her face so that I barely recognized her.

"What did you do?" Jules snarled at me. I guess it's my turn to have my mouth hang open in shock. As far as I knew I'd been mostly dead all day. She started looking around the narrow hall, under the gurney I was sitting on and in the janitor's closet next to her. There were more doors on the other side of me, even across from me but she was giving me a ten foot radius and she would have to breach that barrier to check anywhere else. Ice crystals crawled under my skin, numbing me, thankfully pushing back the choking lump of grief that was forming along with horrifying suspicions. I'd choose numb over emotional hemorrhage any day. Rachel finally snapped from her stupor.

"Shit! Jesus Christ, Rory," she shook her head and looked at me again, "Rory?" She sounded so confused for a second before she gathered her self together. "What the fuck is going on here? I don't understand," anger was beginning to creep into her voice incinerating the sadness and the shock. Her eyes darted between us before landing suspiciously on Jules and staying there. "You said I wouldn't understand, is this what you were talking about," she turned tortured turquoise eyes to me, "But I saw you. You were definitely, definitely dead," she was back to staring at the floor an expression of loss on her face like she didn't know what to believe, but knew the truth was going to hurt like hell. When she looked at Juliet again and there was a hardness in her eyes I'd only ever seen her direct at criminals.

"What the fuck is going on? No more traumatized bullshit side stepping. Did you two plan this? Is this some insurance fraud type of thing?" the cop voice was back in full on mirrored aviator glasses mode, the voice you'd hear asking you to assume the position and put your hands behind your head. I was still playing catch-up trying to understand what Jules wasn't saying. So the voice didn't have the same snap-to-it for me that it did for Juliet. Maybe it wasn't that scary to me since we aren't sleeping together. Something about the person who shares your bed being angry at you always seems to make people try that much harder to fix things. She spun around to face Rachel, almost but not completely turning her back on me.

I would have laughed except for the complete and total lack of anything funny right now.

"No! God no. We didn't plan this. How could you think that? We didn't plan anything except to go out and dance. This all just happened. I don't know what set off the symptoms but none of this could possibly have been planned. At least not by me" she looked angrily at me for a moment before giving all of her attention back to Rachel. Fear filled her face, starting in her eyes and bleeding outward, stealing the tiny rush of color her anger at me had brought to her cheeks. "Rachel you can't tell anybody about ... this. I know you're sworn to protect and serve but if you talk about this you'll be painting a giant red target on your chest and I can't live with worrying about you more than I already do." Oh yeah, she definitely knows something. Something I would never have imagined could be her secret. It called too many truths into question.

If you're told too many times that "it can't be true" you believe that. More even than your own senses, your own memories. I'd simply justified everything else around that idea- it can't be true so it isn't. Stupid. I should know better than to trust anyone more than I trust myself, but these things had been told to me when I actually was a child. I'd been as impressionable as any other kid back then. Maybe more so.

C I had a flash of my old nightmares. A beautiful face surrounded by white blonde ringlets, covered in blood. Blood that she'd ripped from the throat of a wolf that had been a dark haired woman only moments before with her fangs. I remember the feeling of that hot blood striking my face which had been much smaller then. The memory gets interrupted by the remembered burning sting of the switch across my palms. A gift from the pious nuns of the Sisters of Charity for telling "evil, devil worshipping lies". I know, how can lies worship the devil? Silly nuns.

It had been years since I'd tried to remember that dream, partially because of that remembered pain. I'd long since discounted it as nonsense, but maybe it wasn't. What if it was true? What if my mother is still alive or undead or whatever? Might it be possible to find her, to talk to her? Could I accept that that not only might the supernatural be real but that it might be my past? Accepting powerful invisible presences and viscous amorphous darkness is one thing, but to think that the mother I'd wondered about my whole life might be a vampire who fought werewolves ... is it just too much?

Rachel took a step in my direction, breaching the invisible bubble Juliet had established as a safe distance from me. Jules grabbed her arm and pulled her back with both hands dropping the bundled fabric she'd been holding. Anger so intense, that for a moment I saw the whole hall way bathed in red, filled me. I didn't even know what exactly I was mad about but seeing her keep Rachel, who it seemed was my only actual friend, from trying to get closer to me just tipped me over the edge I hadn't even known I was near.

I stood up and something dangerous must have been written on my face because Rachel took back that small step. A low growl filled the air, it took me a moment to realize it was coming from me.

"So what?" I hopped off the gurney and tucked the sheet more firmly under my arms ignoring the cold sticky tile beneath my bare feet. "You're both afraid of me now," I was momentarily distracted by the shape of my teeth, something I hadn't noticed before I'd tried to talk. It almost felt like I would cut my tongue if I spoke too quickly so I concentrated on my enunciation since I wanted to be clear. Both Rachel and Juliet had wary looks on their faces but there was genuine terror in Juliet's eyes. Terrified, of me? Tears gathered behind my eyes and my throat tightened. I had to look away from them for a minute, suddenly caught up in all the emotions I had been ignoring. Anger had melted some the ice protecting me from this pain and it was leaking through, beginning to overwhelm me.

Before I curled into a ball and cried, I needed answers.

"What is it you think you have to be afraid of? You're the one who was obviously pretending at friendship. Not me. I was your friend. Everything I ever told you was the truth. I have no idea what the hell you're talking about or alluding to, but you have no reason to be scared and absolutely no right to be angry. I should be angry ... " I took a few deep breaths trying to calm my self, to quiet the hurt rage screaming inside me to make her feel as anguished and betrayed as I do right now. I barely succeeded and realized I would have to stay very calm if I was going to get any answers or even if I was going to want them.

"You will tell me," I looked over at Rachel who still looked just confused, "both of us" I corrected, "exactly what you're talking about that Rachel has to keep secret," the anger was back instantly when she opened her mouth to interject. "And before you speak another accusation or call me a liar or do anything other than answer my questions sans snide undertone ..." I trailed off.

I didn't know what to say. Would I really hurt Juliet? Actually both of them because it's not like Rachel is just going to stand by and let me. Could I honestly fight both of my friends with this new strength and all this power still coursing through me? It certainly wouldn't be a fair fight. Can I even afford to fight fair? To finally get answers, when a lifetime of abuse and neglect had stolen the even the questions from me. Could I really hurt the only two people in the world I care about? It's hard to realize that the answer is an uncomfortable, yes.

I don't want it to come to that. I don't want that, but I'm no longer willing to just let my life happen to me or pass me by completely. Remembering the looks on the faces of those girls as they stepped over the man bleeding to death beneath their feet was enough reason to forget my friendships. There would have been more reaction from them to seeing it on TV. Apathy so complete couldn't be anything but evil. My reason for being here, alive, right now is to find a way to combat the darkness I had seen crawling over my city. I can't selfishly save my friendship while the rest of the world goes to hell. I won't.

"You'll what? What? Hurt me? Kill me? Worse? Yeah you could always turn me. That would be a big funny ass joke wouldn't it. The vampire's daughter finally gets turned by the fledgling she's tried to save for half a decade," her tone was hatred made sound but there were tears streaming down her face. I'd thought I'd braced for it, I know I'd been expecting it.

It's just that hearing ultra rational Juliet Martin say the word Vampire in a sentence that doesn't also include the word Buffy was startling. Both Rachel and I had started at the important word in the rant. Though I can see we're going to have vastly different reactions to it. Rachel looked concerned bordering on panic but over that was a calm façade, and she was back to that talk-you-off-the-ledge voice she'd been using when they were headed down here.

"Did you say vampire, honey? You know vampires aren't real, don't you Boots?" Rachel's voice sounded more careful than I'd ever heard it. If she'd really wanted to be careful maybe she wouldn't have used the nickname I'd coined the night we met.

"What? You're back to thinking I'm crazy now huh? How do you explain Rory coming back from the fucking dead, more beautiful and with god-damned fangs? You thought I was having a breakdown when I wanted to come down here. Look what we found," her hand shot in my direction but jerked back when she realized how close to my face she'd just put her fingers, "Why don't you give my sanity the benefit of the doubt and start asking her some questions. Like who did she kill to complete her transformation. Whose life did she drink away to give herself immortality?" she was sobbing openly now. Rachel wrapped her arms around her and bent down to comfort Jules who was only about 5' 3" even in her heels.

I rubbed my eyes. I don't like to see my friends upset. This whole thing is just one big mess and I have to at least acknowledge to myself my part in it. I might never have lied to Juliet outright but I certainly hadn't just trotted out my whole sad story for her. Even after all these years I'm still partially ashamed of some of the things that I've done. Some of the things that were done to me. More I don't want to be defined by them or pitied for them. Obviously there was a lot being suppressed by her as well. Maybe if I'd had the courage to be fully honest, way back when, part of me wouldn't hate her right now for disillusioning me about our friendship. There might actually have been a friendship. Maybe I could have given her some closure about the mother who'd obviously done the unforgivable. Maybe I could have at least been an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on.

What if? What if? What if? It's a child's question, and I've learned the hard way that the world just doesn't function in the simple ways logical to a child. Wondering what might have been won't help me deal with what is right now. As much as I want to mourn for the lost possibilities, I have to live in the present, and deal with the reality of my life now. Even if that reality does include vampires and werewolves and god knows what else, strange as that sounds even in my head.

I looked over at Rachel, with all of her training and confidence washed away by her lovers wrenching sobs. Her eyes clearly begged for any kind of help. I'd never been able to help myself what the hell was I supposed to do for her. All I could offer was the truth and I was running awfully low on facts today.

I ran my tongue over my teeth and sure enough they were sharper especially my canines. I turned my back on to them and opened the sheet. Faced toward the empty end of the hall, I did a lightning quick assessment of my body before wrapping myself back up and turning toward them again. I looked mostly the same, but better. All my scars and burns were completely gone as if they'd never been there. My skin looked even more lustrous than usual, almost glowing with good health and I had gotten back all the weight I'd lost over the last few months and more. I looked like I'd always imagined I would if I had never been stabbed, shot, burned or even missed a meal. It's incredibly disconcerting to see all the scars and marks of a lifetime washed away with no explanation. I'd never realized how I relied on them to help me recognize myself and remember my life. Not all my scars were from bad memories. Now those marks were gone and I imagine that without them and with the extra weight I would qualify as more beautiful.