Summer Alternatives

Brit watched the street from the vantage point of the upstairs window just outside of their resting place. The sun was setting, she noted as she watched the street below. As the sky grew darker, she heard the door behind her open followed by the sound of familiar footsteps. Strong arms embraced her and she felt soft kisses on her temple before she turned to kiss Ethan’s lips. “Good evening, princess,” murmured Ethan.

Smiling, Brit replied, “Good evening, Ethan.” Quiet followed. Brit had acclimated to the quiet and knew the reason. Ethan’s thoughts broadcast his unhappiness over the shortened days. The summer before, he expressed frustration. This summer, she could feel deepened unhappiness over an occurrence in nature that he could not control. Summer nights were short and there was nothing Ethan could do about it.

Brit sensed his mood and could see the thoughts behind it. His thoughts were filled with resentment toward not having more time at night with her. It never bothered him in the past. Now, he was entertaining options that he would have never considered in years gone by: Moving to the southern hemisphere for the summer months would place him in a region entirely unknown to him. Ethan’s thoughts flashed anger that, in 1500 years, he had not bothered to venture there making the option unattractive without contacts or knowledge. “We could go to the library and look up wherever you wish to go, Ethan,” offered Brit.

He blinked realizing she was linked to every thought. “No, baby. The information I wish to obtain would not be found there, I fear.” Ethan caressed Brit’s arms and pulled her against him again after turning her to the window in hopes that the view would distract her for a moment. Ethan had made inquiries, but information obtained was sketchy to him. The unknown was unsettling. It had been many years since he had experienced such feelings.

Ethan reflected on Latin America. Ethan had no intentions of staying in a rainforest tree house as Brit had excitedly suggested. The strict Roman Catholic religion and American baby-napping rumors associated with organ harvesting also made him realize that logic was not always first and foremost in villager’s minds. Chile, Brazil, and Argentina had some nice cities, and he had requested more information about them. Regardless, most information that he had obtained revealed tight-knit families, which could prove difficult.

Brit was also excited about the concept of visiting Africa. Jungle cats and safari came to her mind. Ethan had not burst her bubble that safari activities usually were daytime options. Draught, disease, smugglers, and weak medical care for his mortal wife were all concerns. The many local religions also made him pause. With a shake of his head, he cleared the image of him becoming tribal chieftain of the gourd people though he did think Brit would look cute in a grass skirt.

The intense poverty of many areas of southern Asia coupled with the highly diverse religions did not make a visit favorable to Ethan. He sighed pulling Brit closer to him. Again religious extremism and lack of tolerance for outsiders would prove problematic. Besides, the last news report that Ethan had seen on a television reported piracy and drug running was prevalent in some of the more interesting locations.

Europe, like North America, had shortened days. Ethan yearned for some locations in Europe. Places he had stayed and known. If only nights were longer, how lovely it would be to take Brit there. “Perhaps we will spend Christmas in Salzburg, Brit,” he said wistfully as he arranged her hair away from her face. “Salzburg is beautiful when the snow falls,” he whispered picturing the longer nights of winter with Brit on his arm. The image of her bundled in a fur-lined hood with her nose reddened by the cold night made him smile.

“There is a castle there,” Brit replied. Ethan smiled again knowing there were many and wondered which she meant. His mind returned to the problem at hand and he considered other locals. Polar caps were simply out of the question. He had running water and livable conditions 1500 years ago. Needless to say he was not giving that up in the new day and age. Brit tilted her head curiously at a glimpse of penguins in his thoughts.

“They do not fly,” she said remembering yet another book she had read. He grinned kissing the top of her head and felt his mood lift a bit. Looking up to him, she needlessly clarified, “Penguins do not fly.”

“Perhaps next summer we could venture somewhere within Oceania, Brit,” said Ethan. “Sydney is said to be pleasant enough and New Zealand, I have been told, is bearable.” Ethan paused silently vowing to kill the first person who called him ‘mate.’ Ethan reflected on what he had read about the city of Sydney. “Australia. We could go to the opera, perhaps.” His eyes narrowed thinking of the beautiful opera house in Vienna, but he placated himself with the promise of longer nights.

Brit perked, “They eat bugs there! I read it in the library. You can order a plate of bugs at many nice restaurants.” She giggled at the thought of bugs for dinner, but her smile faded at the decidedly un-amused expression of her husband. “No bugs,” she lisped questioningly.

“Quite right,” said Ethan with a decisive nod. He blinked again and visibly shook his head. “Bugs are what one eats out of necessity, Brit. You have no need to consume bugs.” Sensing her confusion, he glanced at her thoughts and waved his hand dismissively. “Just because someone deemed it a delicacy does not mean it is good or something you should ingest, princess.”

Brit nibbled her lip, “Maybe they are not real bugs.”

Ethan replied, “Then they should have called them something else. We do not call fish ‘sea kittens,’ do we? Of course not. They are fish. And bugs are bugs.” Seeing her puff her cheeks slightly, he grinned again giving her a playful squeeze. “Do not let me dark mood upset you, Brit. I am unhappy over the short night. If you having bugs for dinner will allow my summer nights grow longer, I’ll consider it.” Brit grinned, which caused him to chuckle. Kissing her, he mused there would be no bugs in her future without a call to the health department. “Shall we go see Kylean? Perhaps he can assist us in making inquiries about Oceania.”

They prepared to leave the Shelter and Brit paused at the door. "Don't perish anyone if they call you 'mate.' Okay?" she asked.

Ethan grinned again at her glimpse into his thoughts and motioned her toward the door.

Belladonna & Eosphoros

Opening the book, Ethan pointed out a picture and said to Brit, “Their names were Belladonna and Eosphoros and they had been life-long nemeses.” Seeing Brit’s confusion, Ethan clarified, “A nemesis is a formidable rival. All their lives, Bella and Eosphoros had competed for honors and awards in and out of school. Each of them achieved early admittance to a most prestigious magic school as both showed talent for magical feats.”

After a moment, Brit responded, “You do not like magic, Ethan.” Though she saw Ethan use archaic methods to do mystical things, she had noted his distain when others used similar methods. “How did you know these two? Were they friends of yours? Did they perish? How long ago did they live?” With a grin, Ethan patiently let her ramble out her questions until she puffed her cheeks and whispered, “I know….one question at a time.”

With a soft chuckle, he touched her nose playfully and said, “All questions will be answered in due time, darling. This is simply a story, but all stories tend to be based on some inkling of truth, hm?” She smiled giving him an affirmative nod and he settled her back to him and continued. “As fate would have it, each responded with immediate animosity when they first saw one another. Of course the rivalry continued. One took top marks one week only to be usurped the following week. And each blamed the other for their own lack of success when the other moved ahead.”

“I guess that made them not like each other even more,” lisped Brit. She shifted against Ethan so that she could look up at him. Seeing him nod in agreement, she settled back against him. Within his mind, she glimpsed images that she assumed were Belladonna and Eosphoros.

Ethan caressed her arm. “With hatred growing, each lost the ability to think rationally when it came to the other. With each passing week, the other had planned how to discredit or dishonor the other so they would leave. It was late in their first year when they gave up trying to harm the other, and a more sinister plan started to form.”

Brit’s eyes grew big. “They tried to perish each other?”

Brushing his lips over her temple, Ethan said, “No, baby. Truly perishing would have been kind compared to what each planned.” Brit looked almost fearful but remained silent to hear what each did. Ethan gave her a reassuring hug and reminded her, “Tis a story, baby. No need for concern.” She relaxed against him and he moved forward with the story. “Eosphoros decided that, since he could not drive Belladonna off, he would enslave her. Staying up all night, he made a love potion that would bind her to him. Her heart would feel that it could not beat if he were not near.”

Looking thoroughly confused, Brit said, “He hated her so he wanted her to love him?” Ethan nodded. “That does not seem like hate to me. Maybe he secretly loved her.”

“It is said that there is a very thin line between love and hate,” Ethan said. It was clear to him that Brit did not understand, but to discuss such now would mean to side track from the story. Ethan had learned early on to stick to a path when talking with Brit or their conversations would go in more directions than hydras had heads. Besides, he had eternity to follow each path in time. “We shall come back to that topic, baby.”

Brit settled again and Ethan handed her some juice to sip as he returned to the story. “So, Eosphoros would simply give her the potion and Bella would fall in love with him. And he would extract his revenge on her daily knowing she would love him and he would hate her.” Ethan waited for Brit to process and was rewarded with an audible gasp as Brit realized how much it would hurt the other to love and not be loved in return.

He could feel her heart ache for the unloved magic student and moved on quickly. “Eosphoros took his potion and placed it in a wine bottle. He found Bella in a lab working on a class assignment. Entering, he said, ‘Look. We have been at odds for years. Perhaps we should set aside our childhood anger and agree that we will not continue this rivalry since we shall be breathing the same air until we graduate.’ He was most sincere in his tone and actions.”

“Indeed, Bella was surprised,” explained Ethan. “After all, they had hated each other for years. Eosphoros handed Bella a bottle of wine and asked, ‘Truce?’ Bella looked doubtful, but reached for it to accept it. It was a very small bottle and Eosphoros said, ‘I would be so honored if you would accept this truce by drinking of it.’ And with that, he poured the liquid into a glass.”

“If he was always mean to her, why would she trust him?” asked Brit. Ethan hinted a grin that she thought of the obvious question. To him, it showed growth.

“Bella did not trust him. She asked him to sip first and he made a bit of a scene, but drank after telling her that her skepticism was not helping their new truce. Of course, magic users tend to be immune to their own concoctions.” Ethan’s fingers curled a strand of her hair around his index finger. “She watched him drink and said, ‘Then please drink with me.’ And with that, she too poured him a glass of wine from the open bottle she had beside her. Her own glass just inches from her fingertips.’ Seeing this, he smiled graciously accepting her offer. The two clinked glasses and both drank.”

Brit whispered, “And then she fell in love with him and he still hated her!” Her eyes widened in a mixture of horror and sadness.

“Don’t jump ahead,” Ethan chided gently with a playful poke causing her to giggle slightly. She was too focused on the story, and so he went forward with it. “Each drank while watching the other. They kept their individual glasses to their lips and poured in the contents slowly. By drinking slowly and watching, each encouraged the other to drain their glasses dry. When their glasses were empty, each smiled a contented smile.”

“And then she fell in love with him and he still hated her!” Brit exclaimed.

With a bounce and a tickle, Ethan said, “Slow down, you!” Brit giggled more merrily causing him to grin again. When she quieted, he said, “The room was quiet and each sat watching the other. It was then that Bella noticed how very beautiful Eosophoros looked as he gazed back at her almost lovingly. Perhaps the lighting had improved, she thought.”

“Uh oh,” whispered Brit.

“Bella desired above all other things to touch him. Her fingers curled into each other to prevent her from doing so. His hand seemed to reach for her hair and he grabbed the edge of the table blinking. Bella gasped and he widened his eyes. Each shouted, ‘You gave me a potion! What was it?’ They went quiet again and stared at each other. Each seeing beauty and wonder in the other that they had never seen before. Each screamed, ‘How dare you!’ Then words flew from each other. Sparks flew quite literally as they attacked with magic which brought the attention of their instructors running to the lab.’

“Did she give him a potion too? What kind of potion? How did she know to give him one? Did she know he was giving her one?” Brit asked in rapid succession.

Ethan shrugged, “No one knows whether she knew or whether it was just amazing coincidence.” Shifting her back to him again, he said, “By the time, the instructors arrived, the laboratory was quite destroyed. With a bit of a truth spell, it was found that each had used magic against the other. Both gave the other a love potion and, for that, each was expelled from the academy.” Seeing her tilt her head, he clarified, “Expelled means cast out.”

Brit giggled, “Now they both love each other!”

Ethan grinned, “There is a fine line between love and hate, Brit. Neither had been on their own. They stood on the steps of the academy knowing they could not return home in disgrace to their parents. However, for a full hour, they continued to shout at each other that it was the other’s fault. Night was falling, and they spent their first night under trees as they continued to argue and were told to leave the small roadside inn.”

“Did they ever get along?” asked Brit.

“The sun is rising, baby. I will tell you more of their story another night. But safe to say that they were beloved of one another. Willingly or not.”

Memorial Day

Memorial Day. It was not the day that held real meaning to Ethan, but the simple realization that it heralded the start of summertime. Picking Brit up, Ethan jumped the railing and carried her to the rocks over the water away from the sweat and grime of the city. The tide caused the water to lap quietly on the rocks and the sound added to the peacefulness of the night.

Settling her back against him, Brit felt his face press against her hair. Ethan’s lips slide along the side pressing softly along her pulse points. Her body emanated heat. Mingled with the humid night, a thin layer of sweat caused from their fencing lesson salted her skin. There was a hint of sadness within him and Brit could pick up on the mood. “The nights are shorter,” she finally said. Her words were not so much of a question as it was a confirmation. Ethan nodded and pulled her closer.

Breaking the night’s silence, a couple were shouting at each other. “It’s your fault,” screamed the girl. A male voice immediately followed, “It’s your fault!” Both looked to the nearby building where a small window was open. More yelling followed by occasional slaps and punches followed. Brit’s eyes widened as she heard the loud crash from inside of the building. Ethan’s better hearing caused him to grin. Placing his lips to her ear, he whispered, “I believe those two have settled their differences.”

Brit seemed confused until her thoughts hit upon a plausible explanation. “They made up!” she whispered gleefully. Seeing Ethan’s grin, she snuggled back against him to enjoy the night and felt his lips explore her neck a bit more, which distracted her from the window above. Closing her eyes, Brit tilted her head to feel him caress her skin. Ethan pulled her closer to him.

It seemed a night for loving activity. Earlier, they had encountered a couple who had not left their room all day. Brit deemed they must have been very tired. Ethan had been quite sure that they were exhausted after their marathon ‘rest.’ A neko pair growled and hissed in the park causing the uninformed to avoid the area less the fight break out while they were near. A couple who was new to the city took advantage of having set up the bed first just a few doors down from the quarreling couple.

“Look up at the moon, Brit,” whispered Ethan. As she gazed up at it, he said softly, “If I were in Constantinople and you were here, we can gaze upon the same moon.” Brit smiled. Ethan continued, “No matter where we are, you can look at the moon and know I’m smiling back to you.”

Turning to him, she said, “And the same for you. I will never look at the moon without thinking of you, Ethan. Even if you are not right here with me.” Entwining her fingers in his, she peeked at him. “Of course, you should always be with me…when the moon is seen like this.” Going quiet, she thinks of the times he has had to make a trip without her. “I do not wish us to be apart anymore…maybe…if you have business….you should just take me along always.”

His fingers stroked her hair and he listened to the sounds of the night without replying for a few moments. “Brit, if it is possible, you are with me. I never go without you less it is absolutely necessary.” When she did not reply, he touched her face. “I will not place you in danger, baby.” His tone let her know that it was not for discussion. Puffing her cheeks, she simply nodded.

Brit turned to him to speak. No words came as someone had crossed the railing to move toward the rocks. Ethan caught the sound of someone there as well. Both turned so they could see more clearly. A man with blonde hair crossed the railing. Looking both ways, he reached to help a dark-haired lady into his arms. The lady was seriously injured and Brit looked to Ethan wondering if they should suggest a hospital.

Ethan pressed a single finger to her lips as he watched. The man settled the lady on the rocks and looked both ways. Not seeing anyone near, he opened the lady’s clothing revealing several gruesome wounds. Not caring that the wounds were bloody, he pressed his hands to them. Light gleamed from him as he muttered soft words. The lady fell against the rocks as if she had no energy to hold her with a soft cry. Brit simply watched.

The blonde man continued to mutter as the dark lady cried out softly reaching for him. Her fingers stretched until she touched him and seemed to make a complete circuit which calmed her. The light was bright beneath the man’s fingertips and the lady cried out softly again. “It hurts,” she stifled a sob as she lay on the rocks.

“Shhh,” soothed the man as he continued to press his glowing hands to her.

“It hurts, damn you! It hurts!” The lady struggled to keep from sobbing as the man continued to work. “I guess you like that….that it hurts…that I hurt.” He did not reply but continued to apply his hands, now red with her blood, to her wounds. “Ow,” she cried out and fell back onto the rocks with silent tears flowing freely.

Brit’s eyes filled with tears for the lady as she watched. Ethan pulled her closer and cautioned her to not make a sound. He had never seen either in the city before. With the moonlight so bright, both could easily see the lady was soaked in her own blood. “Nearly perished,” thought Brit. Ethan squeezed her gently in warning.

Ethan could see the man’s energy waning as he worked. Sweat caused his blonde hair to darken. The lady’s wounds bled less and her sobs grew less until they were the slightest of whimpers. As the last wound closed, the blonde man cupped her thigh and placed his lips to kiss the spot as it healed beneath his hands. The lady’s hand touched his wet hair. Silence followed for several minutes. “Thank you,” whispered the lady.

The man looked up in surprise smiling for a moment. The couple sat together simply touching. Not moving. Not talking. “Not a worry, Jezabeth,” said the man. “It grieved me to see you injured by anyone else but me.”

The lady groaned as she rose up to her elbows to look at him. “You are a bastard. A complete and total bastard.” He chuckled causing her to glare. “Did anyone see you with me?” she blurted out.

Tilting his head, he said, “No, but your blood is all over my hands. I’m bathed in your scent.”

Sitting up, she said, “Well, go bathe soap and water. And thank you, I guess.” She was shaky as she made her way back to the rail crawling over it.

Looking at his blood-coated hands, the man responded, “I suppose that I’ll see you later. So you can thank me properly.”

Turning, the lady spat toward him, “Well then, love. Be sure you use the back staircase. Naturally.”

The blonde man chuckled and said, “Naturally.” The lady nodded and strode away angrily. Brit looked up at Ethan quizzically wondering if the couple hated each other. As the lady walked away, the blonde man touched his bloodied hand to his lips kissing it and blew it in the direction of the shadowy figure. “Soon, my beauty. Soon,” he whispered as he got to his feet and left in a separate direction.

Watching until the couple was clearly out of sight, Brit lisped, “Those two hate each other!”

Chuckling, Ethan said, “I don’t think so.” Seeing she did not understand, he said, “I’ll explain soon.” She tilted her head. With a laugh, he whispered, “Soon, my beauty, soon!”

Giggling, she said “Um…well…be sure you use the back staircase, naturally.”

Ethan blinked gazing at her for a moment only to break into a grin seeing Brit had no clue about such implications. “Naturally, love…run ahead of me less you not be there when I arrive.” Brit scampered toward the railing and slipped over it most improperly. Ethan followed ensuring she ran into him several times before she arrived home, and he bit her playfully each time he caught her.

In their resting place, Brit was giggling loudly as she burst through their door. Ethan grinned and then followed using the back staircase. Naturally. Once there, they made the most of what was left of the night giving each a fond memory of the unofficial start of summer.

The Power of Touch

Ethan rose and greeted Brit in the traditional way before asking what she might like to do that evening. At her response, he paused. “You wish to do what?” he said with an eyebrow raised in surprise.

“I wish to give you a massage,” was the matter-of-fact response. Ethan’s second eyebrow joined the first unsure what to say or even where to begin. Brit puffed her cheeks and slid a book from his desk. Opening it, she read slowly, “Massage is a way for beloveds to get closer. It is a way to connect mentally and physically by engaging all senses.” Looking up, she whispered, “That sounds good, huh.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed as he reached for the book. Flipping it open, he examined its contents thinking he may be paying someone in the library yet another visit. Brit continued to chatter as he flipped through the pages. She rushed through the titles starting with the history of massage and the power of touch. Her words flowed faster when he gazed over the book to her as she was telling him of the medical benefits of such practices. “I am not generally afflicted with headaches nor do I require help with increased circulation, darling,” he replied.

Pausing, Brit lisped, “I do not have headaches, Ethan, but maybe I would like increased circulation. My blood circulates.” Ethan tilted her head noting that she had clearly read the book and was obviously taken with the idea of doing something new to increase their closeness. Peeking into her mind, he could see she had linked the concept with romantic notions befitting a young wife. It showed growth, which pleased him greatly.

Looking around, he noticed that she had already made some preparations for a massage. Closing the book, he knew she likely went with the book’s suggestions for trying something new, and he did not wish to spoil her fun by knowing what was next. Besides, she looked cute dressed in her loose, frilly summertime nightgown. Ethan focused on his wife who was placing towels about the room and went to lighting soft-scented candles that she had enjoyed on their last vacation.

Brit spread out a thick sheet over their resting area while he watched with a bemused expression. She ran from the room only to return with a stack of towels and some oil that was heating in rusty-colored, warm water. “Where did you obtain the oil?” Ethan asked. Upon hearing the answer, Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. He read the label carefully and found she had followed the book to purchase sweet almond oil. Opening it, he sniffed to ensure it was pure and nodded with satisfaction choosing not to scold her for venturing into the porn shop for the purchase.

Pressing play for music, a version of “When Love and Death Embrace” poured from the small speakers. Brit shook out a second sheet and peeked over it. “Um…you have to strip.”

Mouthing the word “strip”, Ethan coughed softly into his hand. Yes, she was definitely demonstrating growth, he thought as he shrugged off his jacket coat while watching her clear green eyes over the edge of the sheet. Regrouping, Ethan asked casually, “Did the book instruct you to tell me to strip, baby?”

She processed as she thought carefully, “No, but it said I have to rub everywhere and, if you did not strip, then oil would get all over your clothing.” Her eyes widened and he was amused that she was sincerely concerned over the potential damage to his clothing. Not wishing to tease too much, he discarded his clothing and let her wrap him in the sheet to direct him to the second sheet.

Ethan felt suddenly clumsy when she instructed him to lie on his back. He watched her curiously feeling suddenly unworldly beneath the sheet while he watched her move about. Rather than start to pour oil on him, she picked up the hair brush and focused on brushing his hair. When his eyes kept watching her, she leaned to kiss him before barely putting oil on her fingers and massaged his face gently then moved to rub his scalp. Her fingers caressed and she dragged her fingers lightly over the skin.

Feeling Ethan start to relax, Brit poured a bit more oil on her fingers and pressed them beneath him to let his weight push him on her hands that pulled gently along his large shoulders. He took a breath and exhaled slowly causing her to pause as he did not need to breathe. Feeling him relax more, she smiled.

Brit took her time caressing his skin. Sometimes, she would find tense spots, just like the book described. For these, she would press her palms and fingers against his flesh and slowly work the tension to his fingertips until he was completely relaxed. When she told him to roll to his tummy, a loud pop from several vertebrae were heard causing both to pause looking bewildered. Seeing her wide eyes, Ethan smiled catching a hand and placing it to his lips to let her know that she did not break him.

True to the book, Brit carefully practiced with long body massage strokes and kneaded the larger muscles in between. Her pace was very slow taking far more time that one might with such activity. Peeking again at her thoughts, she was focused on her hands and the feel of his body beneath them. No other thoughts entered her mind except following the instructions of the book, and the pleasure she had of examining him relaxed but not resting. She paused only when more soft pops were heard as his spine relaxed.

This time, it was Ethan who processed. He focused on the feelings and sensations that her touch yielded. Also the differences in the way she touched his skin. With a slight shift, he pondered that perhaps he would rethink his opinion of such practices. Immediately, he grimaced at the thought of anyone else giving him a massage. Rage flared at the slightest thought of anyone else touching her, and he quickly pushed the thought from his mind. This was an activity that should be reserved for proper couples, he thought.

“Are you okay,” asked Brit. Ethan refocused on her face as she gazed at him oddly. “You seemed uneasy for a moment,” she lisped. He noted that she was definitely in tune with him – possibly more than she had ever been before.

As for Ethan, he felt closer to her as well and marveled at the power of such a simple act. Ethan shook his head and said, “I was thinking….perhaps it is your turn.” He sat up feeling blissful. Pulling her nightgown off, he pressed her on to the sheet.

Brit whispered, “They don’t say how to get a massage…just how to give one!”

Chuckling, he said teasingly, “Then I suppose you shall learn like I did.” Pouring a bit of oil into his hands, he mimicked her actions almost to the textbook letter. Rather than lying lazily beneath his hands, Brit squirmed like a playful kitten. Ethan grinned and continued until he scooped her up to hold her tightly to him drinking lovingly from her throat.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oFLN8cMuWL0

Låt den Rätte Komma In

Lifting her head from Ethan’s shoulder as the credits rolled, Brit asked, “Did she love him or does she need him?” The movie was called Låt den Rätte Komma In. It was a Swedish movie about a 12-year old boy named Oskar, and a 200 year old vampire child named Eli. Oskar was being bullied at school and befriends a mysterious child who moved in next door to him and his mother. Eli lived with an older man who took care of her. The two develop a close relationship as Eli struggles with changes that challenge her ability to care for herself, and Oskar strives to resolve his issues with school bullies.

Ethan shifted uncomfortably. He did not have an answer. The movie dealt with several issues that focused on the darker side of humanity and vampiric nature. He knew without peeking into her mind that Brit would be processing the movie for days if not weeks. She did not understand the nature of bullies. A need for someone to make themselves feel more powerful by preying on others was beyond her scope of understanding. When Oskar was being tormented, she whispered, “He needs a redeemer.”

The need for killing people when Eli drank was explained when Eli fed directly. Ethan explained that some thoughts on the creation of vampires were that it was caused by a virus-like organism that could be gained when the vampire fed. Ethan also carefully explained how his chylder was created in a way that Brit could comprehend. As he spoke, his fingers caressed her skin as his mind sifted her thoughts to see whether she desired to be more like him, and was disappointed as he had been before that it never dawned on her to ask.

Ethan felt disgusted when Eli’s keeper would kill victims that he had drugged to drain blood in a jug to sustain Eli. After all, in his mind, there was no need to kill them, but he rationalized that it was likely easier to get by with the attack if there was no witness. Brit blinked slowly as she watched the scenes that grew gory at times. Ethan noticed that her mind neither condemned nor justified the actions. Rather, she seemed to simply take in the story.

Brit seemed confused about the cats that demonstrated aversions to kindred. Ethan again told her of certain myths. She felt the myth was not true because Ethan had joined her in playing with a litter of kittens when they were in France. At that time, he told her many stories of cats and myths surrounding them. Brit had wanted a kitten, but she knew it would not survive in the city.

Brit’s thoughts surrounded Eli and Oskar, but Ethan found the story of Håkan unsettling. Håkan was the old man who had cared for Eli. At one point in the movie, he asked her not to see Oskar that night. Brit had no understanding of the request, but Ethan saw jealousy. He knew without a shadow of doubt that Håkan had been with Eli for a long time – perhaps since he was a boy of Oskar’s age. Now he was old and the two simply co-existed. Håkan provided and Eli endured.

Brit did not focus on the comment, but Ethan’s thoughts were not far from it. At that point on, he was sure that Håkan had one time been like Oskar. He had seen his kind use someone’s life for themselves only to cast them aside when they found someone new or grew weary of the one who had served them without a second thought. Brit was warm against him. He frowned seeing how others of his kind would view her.

In the movie, Håkan disfigured himself so he could not be identified. In the hospital, he offers Eli his neck and she drains him letting his body fall from the window. At no time in the movie, did it show Eli giving another thought to him. It was as if Håkan never existed as her focus was now on Oskar. Brit simply watched the movie focused on each moment as it arrived unaware of the discomfort that Ethan felt of the sad reminder of what he had seen played out through the centuries time and time again by kindred he had known.

The movie had endearing moments. Oskar teaching Eli Morse code so they could tap to each other through the wall. Also, Eli walking to him without being asked in to show him that she would harm herself for him and that she had watched over him when he thought she was gone only to help him in the end. Brit pressed against Ethan beaming at the screen when Oskar and Eli shared their first kiss.

The darkness, Ethan noticed, was lost on Brit. The sadness of Håkan’s likely story. Eli’s response to the question of her age: “I’m twelve. But I have been twelve for a long time.” Added to her story with Oskar, Ethan murmured, “Bittersweet.” At the end of the movie, Ethan smiled as Eli, who was in a crate, tapped out “kiss” to Oskar who was riding on a train and Oskar responded back in kind.

“Ethan?” Brit spoke again, “Does she love him or does she need him?” Ethan frowned. Brit’s thoughts had started to process the movie. Most movies were so simple to explain. This one was different and obviously close to home. He pulled her over him and kissed her softly. She giggled at the kiss but continued to wait for a response.

Normally he would ask what she thought, but he could see that she had no response. She was trying to make sense of it herself. “I’m unsure, Brit,” he said softly. Her eyes widened. She had never known him to not have a response. He smiled. “I love you,” he said. “And I need you.” She returned his smile giving him a loving squeeze.

Walking home, he was thoughtful as she was. Brit processed, but Ethan’s thoughts also focused on the movie and he continued to feel slightly disturbed. She took two steps to each one of his as they walked. “Brit,” he said softly, “I will always love and need you.”

Smiling, she said, “I know, Ethan.” He nodded returning her smile and they continued to walk.

“You will not grow old like Håkan did or Oskar will.” She paused looking up at him as they walked. Seeing his thoughts were closed to her, she frowned slightly. His hand tightened on hers and he shook his head. Seeing her curios expression, he shook his head again. “Just....” Smiling, he picked her up suddenly and swung her around. She screamed gleefully as he swung her again.

After three swings, he tossed her slightly up in the air and she giggled happily. Turning her quickly, he grabbed her holding her to him like one would a child, and he walked them both back to their resting place. His cheek nuzzled her hair as they walked. Neither noticed the odd glances from those they passed as he moved through the streets. Once back in their resting place, he kissed her as he tapped his fingers on her body. -- .. -. .

Tomorrow, perhaps he would teach her Morse code.

Silver & Gold

Brit sat in the resting place examining the contents of a footlocker that she had asked a passerby to bring to the Shelter from the library. In her hand, she held the letter that told her where to find the locker. Slowly, she read silently but her lips moved forming each word. She had read the note several times while her hand touched the footlocker. When she read the letter, tears would form, but they dried as she touched the locker. At sunset, Ethan rose to find her sitting in the dark staring at the locker. “What is that, princess?”

Handing Ethan the letter, she watched. Ethan glanced over the top of the paper before going to his desk to read it. He read once and then again. Folding the paper to place on the desk, he said, “Things are not always as they seem, Brit.” Motioning her to him, he patted his lap pulling her into it when she approached. “Things are not always as they seem, baby.” Ethan told her about the rumors going about the city and what had been told to him by more reliable individuals.

Brit’s eyes widened. Picking up the note again, she read it silently yet again. “So…they are dead.” Ethan watched Brit process without interference. Her eyes blinked in their rhythmic pattern and she stared at the note. Her lips were outlined in baby pink lip tint and Ethan could see her lower lip starting to quiver. Brit glanced up to him questioning.

“Baby, what do you think?” He kept a hand on her and was linked with her mind. In the beginning, Ethan thought not to tell her. However, his wife was not a child, he reminded himself. An adult would be told, and so he had made up his mind to tell her of the events. The note, found within a book in the library, had informed Brit first. Placing his hand on her chest, he whispered, “What does your heart tell you?” Sliding his hand higher, he said, “What about your mind? Look within and trust yourself.”

Encouraged, Brit processed. “I…I think I would have known…felt it within,” she lisped. Ethan simply watched her as she spoke her thoughts out loud. Sliding off of his lap, she returned to the foot locker. Kneeling beside it, she said, “It has maps, and some stuff…writing with no pictures.” Puffing her cheeks, she picked up a pile of library cards and sorted through them. “All of these people have disappeared…perished maybe or just ran away.”

Raising an eyebrow, Ethan said, “Indeed? Allow me to see those please.” She gave him the pile of cards and went back to sorting through the footlocker.

Pulling jars of slugs with blood dried on them, she read the labels. “Me. Family. Others.” The three jars were set beside her. Staring at the jars, she gasped causing Ethan to look up quickly. She whispered holding the “me” jar, “I think….these were meant to perish him!”

Seeing her wide-eyes, Ethan grinned. “But they did not, did they?” She blinked twice before giggling and shook her head ‘no.’ Ethan chuckled. Brit looked back at the jars curiously finding some names rather surprising. Sensing her thoughts, he said, “No…if one of those perished him, it would likely not be in the jar, now would it?”

“No,” she said giving them another glance before setting the jar carefully on the floor next to her. Brit found pictures she had drawn and a bent and buckled short black sword. There were some uniforms, and ceremonial fetishes. Ethan raised an eyebrow as he used his own skills to sense anything dangerous in the footlocker. Next she found an ominous knife collection and first aid gear. A few cooking items and a small box of medals followed by a small silver wolf head.

“Allow me to see that, Brit,” said Ethan holding his hand out for the item. She gave it to him and he turned the wolf’s head left and right before holding it for a moment. “Silver…interesting.” Handing it back to her, he said, “Be sure to pack that in with the medals. In the box. And place it to the bottom for safe keeping.” He watched as Brit did what she was told. “We shall put the items somewhere for safe keeping until we hear where it is to be shipped.”

Brit packed the footlocker. “Will someone ask for it?”

Ethan pressed fingertips together arching his fingers. “I am sure someone will. Or perhaps we shall ship it.” Seeing her quizzical look, he pulled a second note from his pocket. Looking to her, he opened it mysteriously and started to read. “Hello, Ethan. I hope this missive finds you well. I enclose a small gift to commemorate your Paper Anniversary.” Ethan read slowly stopping often to ensure Brit could keep up with what was said.

Along with the note were a number of stories from the lands of Greece that had been written for children at the turn of the century. Ethan scowled slightly at some of the titles, but reminded himself that his wife was not a child. A small voice in the back of his head reminded him when someone had once commented, “It is only a bicycle.” Tapping his fingers on his desk, he glowered at the memory silently noting that society had declined dramatically since women were given bicycles. “Are you okay,” asked Brit.

“Yes, darling.” Ethan smiled and put the note card away. Though he was sure that some of the titles were deliberately chosen, he had to grin at the image of the mischievous glee that went into their selection.

“We have good friends, Ethan.” Brit smiled warmly looking over the book at him. Earlier, she had been wearing a dress made especially for her by a dear friend. That same friend, who was practically “family”, had made a matching vest for Ethan as she knew of their preference to match. Yet another had gifted them with a beautiful wrought-iron bed and matching candlestick. They even had their own moon and stars for when the cloud cover made one wistful for a clear night.

Thinking of those who protected Brit and looked out for him whether he felt he needed it or not, Ethan replied, “That we do, baby.” He could see her thinking and processing. People who had come and gone from the city. Her emotions waivered slightly as she thought of some and then others, but she was wrapped in the feelings of those for whom she cared and cared for them in return.

Ethan simply watched as she flipped through the books that had been sent. Then, he heard her voice. It was soft and sweet. Though she carried the tune, her voice held a slight child-like quality to it. “Make new friends, but keep the old.” Her hair framed her face as she sang softly, “One is silver and the other is gold.” Smiling, he walked to pull her up and swayed to her tune. He didn’t even frown when she asked him to read a story that reminded him of bicycles.

Paper Anniversaries

Lying in the resting place, Brit watched the candles burning in the silver holder that was used at her wedding. While normally silent, periodic pops occurred while the candles burned; this seemed to fill her with wonderment. Ethan watched both the candles and his wife. Her form between him and the candles caused a silhouette. Using one finger, he traced her side. First over her shoulder to her side, he moved gently down the side of her ribcage. Pressing gently, he could feel her bone structure beneath. “Fragile and soft,” he thought.

“I’m not so very fragile, Ethan,” Brit lisped. He hinted a smile seeing that she had linked to his thoughts. Both had been taking to linking with the other more and more. It was considered another way to bond together. Simply put, both felt it was another connection.

Curling his fingers, Ethan drug his nails lightly over Brit’s milky skin noticing the pinkish discoloration as he moved even though he was gentle. His fingers hooked on her hip and he pulled to roll her to her back. The sootiness of her lashes framed her eyes and enhanced their green color. Brit’s dark red hair cascaded over the pillow beneath her. Cocking a brow, he asked, “When did my princess grow so strong?” His fingers trailed over her sternum down to her belly where it circled.

Squirming slowly to his tickly touches, Brit giggled. “You make me stronger.” He watched her and sifted through her thoughts as she responded. “Better,” she whispered. “You make me better.” In her thoughts, he could see she did not comprehend the mechanics, but she keenly understood the affects his blood had on healing and her physical abilities.

“Perhaps stronger, Brit. Faster, yes.” He gazed at her face like an artist would watch a blank canvas before stroking the sides of her cheeks. “Not better though. If anything, you have made me better.” Pulling her to her back, he leaned for a lingering kiss. “Happy anniversary, darling,” he whispered.

She beamed returning the kiss. “One year,” she lisped. He nodded tracing his lips over hers and she kissed him again. Both were silent as he continued to drag his fingers over her skin. Both seemed to reflect the past year and could sense contentment within each other’s thoughts. Brit said, “First anniversaries are paper anniversaries.”

Ethan scowled as he commented, “Just paper? Paper is so fragile. Paper rarely lasts. It’s often cheap and mass-produced. His frown faded as Brit handed him a rolled piece of paper. His fingers toyed with the sealed ribbon – both the seal and the ribbon were also made of paper. “A present, I see.” Kissing softly, he checked to ensure she was not disturbed by his comments. Her thoughts only showed anticipated excitement of his reaction to her present.

Earlier in the evening, Ethan had taken Brit to the diner. He had arranged with Annika to serve dinner at the rooftop patio table. The night was quiet, and the spring-like warmth reminded Ethan of the cafés along the Seine River in Paris. Dinner was a small spinach tart followed by lamb roasted with honey and rosemary, surrounded by small herbed potatoes and minted peas. Dessert was a succulent pear poached in wine with a drizzle of raspberry and chocolate sauce.

As usual, Ethan had a plate set before him, but did not touch the food. Answering her thoughts, he said, “I do not miss eating, Brit, however I do enjoy the memories that some scents bring. He watched as she sampled parts of her meal and noted that she was less child-like in her eating habits. “You have grown much in a year, Brit,” he murmured. “I enjoy watching your transformations.”

Looking quizzically at the whole pear, she watched as he demonstrated how to cut it to consume. Brit smiled at him and mimicked the way he used the knife to slice the pear into pieces. The first bite caused her eyes to widen. “I would miss some foods, if I never had to eat anymore, I think.” She loaded the pear piece with as much raspberry and chocolate before biting it.

“Like chocolate, I suppose,” Ethan teased. With a giggle, she nodded as she chewed slowly. He grinned merrily as he picked up the glass of wine swirling it to enjoy the color. Soon, dinner was past and they danced in the warehouse. Brit remembered the first time Ethan had asked her to dance. He swirled her around the warehouse. She wore her blue princess dress. With each turn, she recalled another dance they had enjoyed. The more proper waltz moved toward a slow sway leading Ethan to think it was time to return to their resting place.

In their resting place, Ethan kissed her once again before lighting the candles in the silver candelabras. Brit had started to undress. Moving her hands away, he removed the rest of her clothing and placed her on the soft white fur rug. She watched as he prepared for rest and lay beside her. Ethan smiled thinking over the evening and of the year before. Now he held the rolled paper that Brit had given him for their paper anniversary.

Opening the seal and removing the paper ribbon, he unrolled the paper and smiled. Using crayon and colored pencils, Brit had created a picture of them at their wedding. In the center, she had placed a small pink heart. Smiling, he said, “It’s charming, princess. I will, of course, treasure it.” Looking through the wedding album that contained photographs, she pointed out the one she had used to make the drawing. Ethan smiled again seeing that the picture was taken by his chylder, Gweneth.

In the quiet of the night, just before dawn, Ethan broke the skin on his lip and kissed her. Brit’s lip was also punctured and the sharing became mutual. Their blood mingled and shared created a close bond between them. Soft, quiet and intimate. “I love being your wife. Your one and only, Ethan,” said Brit.

Ethan pulled her tightly against him and said, “I have experienced more with you in one year than I have in the thousand years before it, darling.” Brit looked up at him sleepily. He nuzzled her neck and clarified, “I am not speaking of events, baby.” She clearly did not understand what he meant. Cuddling her protectively, he mused over the change in his life and kissed her hair.

Brit’s thoughts also turned. She felt loved and protected. In the past year, he had shared so much with her. Pressing against him, she processed. “You make me better, Ethan,” she whispered drowsily before drifting off to sleep.

His fingers continued to caress her hair. “You give me purpose, Brit,” he replied ensuring she was covered from the cool night air. “Happy anniversary,” he murmured just before the sunrise demanded that he rest.