Page 21 of These Eternal Bones

Lines Drawn in the Snow

Molly

M – O – L – L – Y.

I copy the letters written on the page, although my handwriting is nowhere near as elegant as his. Embarrassment presses in on me as he looks over, checking that I did a good job, only slightly dampened by his approval. To be twenty-three years old and not be able to write my own name…

I shake off the feeling the best I can, starting on another new line.

It’s not like I didn’t want to learn. It simply wasn’t allowed, while also not being strictly forbidden.

There was no reason other than women who could read and write were less dependent on the men who could, I would assume.

They were quite wrong about that; I traveled across the ocean without either skill.

I found an employer and lodging, although the way I came into both is questionable at best.

I found magic.

Beings I thought were only reserved for horror stories, I found that they weren’t all that horrible.

Over the past week, I’ve come to look forward to my quiet nights with Péal.

My long, lazy days beside Elric. My job hardly feels much like one at all.

Even Tien, the chimera, I learned, has quite warmed to me in his own quiet way.

Settling in here is like slipping on an old glove.

Everything is as it should be. So why does my chest feel so unsettled?

Like something isn’t right, a piece is out of place. Disjointed and left unfinished.

Perhaps it’s because I know, however lovely, it won’t last.

I’m only here, surrounded by warmth, by spice and cedar and adoring, longing eyes, because I am leaving.

That’s the plan, that was always the plan.

New Isles, a place as far from New Eden as one can get without hurling themselves into the sun.

One of the older women who’d drop off food shipments to New Eden would tell me about it in hushed tones while I helped unload her truck.

“Syringa, we’ve been at it long enough. Time for lunch, yes?”

I frown at the man, his chest exposed, the top of his shirt opening into a large V.

One that shows the source of those dark veins covering his body.

A black, inky mark, like an abyss right where his heart should be.

Like most things about this man, it is equal parts beautiful and melancholy.

“I think time has gotten the best of you again. I only just–”

My words cut off as my attention slides to the tall, narrow windows, the crisscross detailing there obscuring nothing as tiny, fat flakes fall from the sky.

“Molly?” His voice hits me, but I can’t bring myself to reply as I get to my feet, ignoring the uncomfortable tingling sensation in my legs.

I fumble, nearly upsetting the spool of ink.

The plush pile of rich rugs I’d been lounging on most of the day abruptly gives way to the icy marble as I reach the window.

My eyes widen and my heart flutters with amazement as my fingers graze the cold, damp glass.

“What is it, my love?”

My love.

The words are lost on me as a squeal bursts from my throat, knocking into the stone fortress of a man behind me as I bolt from the room, my hands fisting my skirts.

I hit the stairs in record time, making a dark, shadowy creature yelp as I come close to it.

As if touching me would be some grave offense.

I ignore it and the shocked eyes of the Nephilim as I rush past him on the landing, my heart hammering in my chest.

Elric is behind me every step of the way, like usual, but I pay him no mind as I grip the narrow arched doorway of the sunroom, my eyes wide on the flurries outside the glass.

An entirely uncharacteristic giggle escapes before I’m off again.

The cold floor is nothing to me as I bypass the entryway of the castle, my feet hitting the elaborate stonework stairs before they’re met with grass.

All around me, the gray, boring sky bursts to life, tiny chilled flakes swarming like fireflies as they whirl and twist. I turn my head upward, watching them dash between the branches of the trees as two arms band around me, ones that rival even the winter chill.

“Open your mouth, you can catch them on your tongue.”

I don’t hesitate, opening wide, tongue hanging out like a dog, the tiny snowflakes catch on my eyelashes.

The world pivots as those powerful arms leave me, replaced by a warm cloak.

It's only then that I realize I’ve rushed out without one.

I am patient now, though, waiting for a flake to land on my tongue.

When it does, I laugh, spinning to tell Elric, only to find his intense eyes already on me.

With such a heady look in his eyes, you’d swear I’d been the one to hang each flake on the wind.

That I’d done it just for him. A flush spreads across my cheeks as I lower my eyes.

“It doesn’t snow where I’m from…I-I had no idea–” I laugh, a little breathless. “I always wanted to see it.”

The smile he offers me only adds to my blushing.

His inky hair, left down around his shoulders today, is wild and dusted with snowflakes.

It's only then that I realize he’s grabbed my shoes, and like every night, he puts them on me.

His hands daring, spending more and more time on my flesh.

Instead of urging me inside like I’d expected, he sits on the steps of his castle, watching me as my teeth dig into my bottom lip.

I truly do try my best to keep quiet, to not make a fool of myself, but the snow is falling wildly now, and I can’t hide my excitement.

It sticks to everything, white patches quickly gathering on the barren ground, and through it all, I giggle, run, and spin.

Feeling very much like a little girl I have never met before but know well.

All my life, she’s been there, deep down…

waiting until it was safe to peek out. It seems now it is all under the watchful eye of a creature whom many fear.

The Vampire of Port Clyde soon loses out against his restraint, joining me amongst the flurries.

Where I spin, he stalks, where I dance, he mirrors.

I am being stalked, but I have grown quite used to it.

Even if the fluttering deep inside me begs to differ.

It’s not until I turn, ready to bolt from him, that his hand snaps out, catching my wrist. His tendrils suddenly materialize, snagging my ankles and waist with a gentle caress. “What?” I gasp.

“I must insist you refrain from running from me, syringa.”

“Why?”

His eyes darken, those fangs taunting. “I fear I have trouble resisting the urge to chase.”

Oh, but how that makes me want to run all the more .

He sees it in my eyes, his narrowing as he leans in. His deep voice all growly, cool breath dancing against flushed skin. “In time, perhaps I shall hunt you in these woods, little human.”

My heart jolts in my chest, my already rushed breathing growing ragged because…

I suspect I would quite enjoy being his prey.

His lips run the course of my slender neck, pausing over my rapid pulse there.

The prick of something sharp, a well of hot liquid in its place, before the man towering over me tenses.

Grace and fluidity reduced to stone. All at once, the tension between us becomes a physical thing, something you could cut with a knife, until I feel it again… his fangs.

My core aches, my entire being readying for…something, preparing itself as if it’s always held out for this moment.

The savage sound that leaves him only adds to that anticipation as his tendrils all but rip me from him, albeit gently.

Disappointment swells in my gut as the snow hazing around us renews its efforts.

Making up for lost time because seconds ago, I swear the entire world had paused.

Irritation snakes into my chest, determination .

For what, I’m not sure, as I swipe my finger through the well of my blood, regarding it before holding my finger out to the panting vampire in front of me. “Seems an awful waste.”

I watch his longing rage with the restraint in his eyes. The desperation there matches what’s budding inside me, so I take a step closer before being wrenched back by his tendrils again. My eyes widen as he flicks his wrist, the blood dissipating from the tip of my finger before my eyes.

“Stupid woman.”

My head snaps toward the porch, finding the furious Nephilim there, his eyes emitting an odd glow. It’s an alarming sight, despite his small stature. Where I expect to feel fear, to cower as I once did so easily, I find none, and I do not. “Excuse me? ”

Péal rushes from the house after that, knocking intentionally into the golden man. Her slight frame nearly a match to his, all except their height. “You mustn’t tease the master in such a way, mistress.”

The Nephilim only seems to anger further. “Are you that desperate for the grave that you–”

“Enough.” Elric’s voice booms behind me, all snarls and malice as Péal all but gathers me from his tendrils, tugging me back toward the house.

“Let’s get you warmed, yes?”

I jerk my arm from hers, glaring at the golden man instead. “What have I done to earn your ire?”

His eyes widen at that, the glow dimming as he seems to calm. “Perhaps you should ask the master .”

My attention turns to Elric, but he seems to be stuck in the moment from seconds before.

His eyes bleeding that same ink from deep within them as he stalks toward me.

“Ignore the Nephilim, he will be corrected soon enough. Do not think I will soon forget your offer, syringa. Though it will take more than a mere drop to sate me.” His voice is liquid velvet, and in an instant, my irritation is forgotten as he gathers me in his arms.

It’s as smooth as the falling snow, but his body is tense around mine. His tendrils snapping wildly behind him, claws prodding my flesh where his hands rest.

I huff, casting a longing look at the snow. “Can we stay outside a while longer?”

“You will catch a chill.”

“It’s just so pretty. What if it stops?”

“It will do no such thing.”

“Elric–”

“Allow me to warm you the only way I can. ”

I know I’m being difficult, but the idea of losing this moment makes my chest ache. “Please? Just a moment more.”

That stops him just in the doorway, a long sigh leaving his chest. “Selkie, she will have her lunch in the snow today.”

A smile splits my pouting, earning me a rueful look from the man who has me perched on his arm.

“Cartiel, see yourself to my levels tonight.” It's spoken like a warning, the Nephilim’s eyes widening.

Suddenly, the prospect of the golden man, Cartiel, receiving the same treatment as the fox sours my desire for food.

Even my longing to play in the snow. My fingers dig into Elric, halting his fluid gait back to the grass.

Cartiel’s head snaps up from where he’s scowling dutifully at the ground when I give him my attention.

“I had hoped we could be decent to one another, if not friends.” I offer, hoping to quell some of the tension, but he doesn’t seem interested in that at all.

My olive branch only seems to harden him. “I do not require your fr–”

His words cut off, making me frown until I spot movement from my peripheral vision.

One of Elric’s tendrils takes on a shape I’ve yet to see from them.

Instead of the hardened, yet silky soft texture they hold against me, this one is sharpened to a deadly point.

Poised and rigid like a blade ready to strike, aimed at the lanky man.

I sigh, casting Elric a disapproving look before glancing back at Cartiel. “We’re meant to work in the same establishment. And we are both adults, yes? No doubt you can manage as well as me, without huffing and puffing all day long.”

He doesn’t respond, but I suppose I wouldn't either with Elric glowering at me like that. He doesn’t waste time stalking back inside when Elric changes the tendrils’ form, making it a soft, silky thing again .

I wiggle, suddenly wishing to be free from his arms. He relents after a few, setting me on the ground, but I don’t miss the way one of his tendrils wraps around my ankle like a gentle, lazy rope.

Something they have taken to doing more and more often.

I assume it’s much like a pet you’re worried will stray too far outside your yard, so I don’t complain.

“Must you threaten everyone?”

“Yes, I must. Go little human, play in the snow. I will not set off toward the cottage when you are cold and the hour is growing late...unless you intend to stay the night.”

My lips part, my stomach doing an odd little flip before I shake his tendril from around my ankle, clasping my hands in front of me and heading off to watch the snow gather on the pine trees.