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“What’s that?” Luna laughs at the glitter covering Micah’s torso.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
This one wasn’t real,
But the next will findyou.
“What does that mean?” Francis asks, bringing in the second tray of sandwiches.
Thorne makes eye contact with me with the same thought in his mind.
“There’s a bomb in the house!” I scream and scramble toward Francis. Like a well-planned action sequence, Thorne grabs Luna, Elias grabs Connor, and Abram grabs Micah. Each of us uses our bodies as a shield to the mortals in the room.
Seconds later, an explosion rocks my eardrums, sending a low hum through my head. I focus on keeping my weight off of Francis as pieces of the ancient house fall around and on top of me. Her breathing becomes erratic as the weight of the debris is nearly more than I can hold.
“Stay strong,” I whisper as the room finally becomes quiet.
“Elsie,” a voice calls through my mind. “Elsie!” It takes a few minutes to figure out that’s me. I’m Elsie. What the hell happened? Did I pass out? Can vampires pass out? The world around me is black. I can’t tell if my eyes are open or closed. I try moving with no luck.
“I’m here,” I answer. My voice is weak and muffled.
“I hear you,” the voice answers. “We’re going to get you out of there.”
The sound of wood being thrown, and voices yelling brings memories of the bomb to the surface. Oh, my God, Francis. I remember throwing myself on top of her seconds before an explosion.
“Francis?” I whisper to silence with no response.
“Hurry!” I yell to my rescuers. “I don’t think she’s breathing.”
Weight is being lifted off me, allowing a small amount of light into my space. Not enough to see Francis, but enough to tell I’m surrounded by large shards of wood.
“Elsie,” the voice repeats.
“Thorne! Hurry, Francis…”
More and more weight is lifted from my back, giving me space to move slightly. Pulling my knees forward, I’m able to create enough space to keep my body over Francis and push upward with my back. The momentum is enough to push the remaining rubble off and provide the air that Francis needs.
Thorne is at my side in an instant. “Is she?” he asks, stopping to listen for her heartbeat. “She’s still alive, but barely.” I stand, lifting his granddaughter with me. Sirens fill the
air as rescue vehicles of all kinds flood the area, heading our way. “She needs medical attention now,” I state the obvious, cradling Francis in my arms.
Her breathing has become worse since being out of the rubble. Each breath is a struggle more than the last. Thorne wipes a tear across his filthy face. He gently takes Francis into his arms and lays her in the safety of the grass surrounding what’s left of her home.
“My sweet girl. I’m here with you.”
Francis opens one eye. “Captain?”
He nods without speaking. “I’m here.” He looks at me, asking a silent question. I nod, giving him permission. “Francis, I can change you. You can live forever.”
She winces in pain and opens both eyes slightly. “No,” she whispers. “I don’t want to live forever in this body.” She coughs deeply, spitting blood from her mouth.
“You wouldn’t have any more pain. You’d be strong,” he argues.
A stray tear streams down her cheek, leaving a path in its wake. “I love you, Grandpa, but it’s my time to go.” Her eyes shoot in my direction. “Take care of him.” Her eyes close as she coughs one more time.
“I will,” I reassure her. “I’m sorry, Francis.”
