Chapter 22 Elijah
Elijah
My sister.
Evangeline is here. In New York City.
I think of her letter safely tucked in its envelope being used as a bookmark in the book of poems I’ve been returning to every evening.
I didn’t expect her to travel here so quickly but, then again, travel is much faster than it used to be.
‘Come in, please,’ I say, stepping aside for her to enter the apartment, towing a slim suitcase behind her.
She looks so cool, so timeless yet contemporary.
She’s always been so good at looking human, the mannerisms, the slang, the tech.
She’s always tried. I feel at times like I fit into society like a too-small glove.
She’s never had this problem, moving from era to era, turn of century or new age with grace and always at the cutting edge.
It’s her mind, I think; she’s so very analytical.
She loves immortality, not for the creature comforts of this world, but for the knowledge.
She’s always been an explorer, an investigator.
And now her eyes are on Molly, sharp and attentive, reading her body language, the wine glass and the mug on the table next to the bowl of eaten ice cream. I am tense all over, wondering what she thinks.
‘Molly, this is Jellie,’ I say. ‘I mean, my sister. Evangeline.’ Jellie hands me the bouquet of flowers and extends a manicured hand to Molly. Molly stands from the couch and shakes it.
‘I didn’t know your family was local,’ Molly says.
‘Oh, I’m across the pond.’ Jellie points a thumb over her shoulder. ‘With everything going on with your government these days I’m rather glad to be.’
‘Fair.’ Molly looks sufficiently disarmed by Jellie’s charms. ‘It’s nice to meet you.’
‘And you. I want to hear everything about you.’ Jellie parks her suitcase near the coat rack, where she hangs her long wool coat and plaid scarf. ‘But, Elijah, do you have anything for me to drink?’
She asks it innocuously, her way of testing the boundaries of my house guest’s knowledge. I pour a blood bag into a glass and microwave it before bringing it to the living room with a straw.
‘Oh, good. She knows.’ Jellie reassesses Molly, then looks back at me.
The pause before she takes the glass tells me that this is going to be a conversation later, one I am not looking forward to.
Jellie isn’t of the belief that humans and vampires shouldn’t mix–she’s not like my brother in this–but she’s always worried about me mixing with humans.
Rightfully so. I have a habit of getting too attached.
Jellie smiles easily and settles into my spot on the couch next to Molly. I try not to stress about this joining of worlds while I arrange the massive bouquet of flowers into two vases (because normal people don’t have vases the size of Rhode Island in the cupboard).
‘Where did you get these?’ I yell from the kitchen.
‘The sweetest man with a flower stand,’ Jellie says. ‘He just gave them to me.’
‘Did he also propose?’ I ask.
‘Elijah, don’t be jealous that men don’t give you bouquets of flowers, I’m sure they would if you smiled more.’
Molly laughs, her eyes darting between us at the back and forth.
‘I’m happy to see you, brother,’ Jellie says when I rejoin them in the living room.
‘Me too,’ I admit, and take her hand in mine for a brief squeeze before I drop into the chair next to the couch.
Jellie leans towards my guest, a curious glint in her eyes. ‘So, Molly, tell me everything.’
‘What do you want to know?’
I shift uncomfortably while Molly answers a couple of simple questions–Where do you work?
What do you do there?–and I’m hopeful Jellie won’t ask Molly to define the confines of our relationship.
My sister would be way too cool about the friends-with-benefits thing and ask way too many probing questions about it.
She’s never met a boundary she didn’t know how to innocently waltz across.
‘You work with Eli? Do you like it? Is he a terrible bother?’ Molly frowns, thinking about the question, then shakes her head.
‘I like it in the way that most people like their corporate job, I think. So, no, it’s not fun but I like having health insurance.
And Elijah is less of a terrible bother each day. ’
‘And what’s your dream?’
Molly presses her lips together and shrugs.
I think of her stories, the ones published in online magazines and the unpublished ones she writes in her little black notebook.
I want to steal it and pore over her notes, try to make sense of them, study them to understand how her brain works better. ‘I’m still figuring that one out.’
‘You’re from the city?’
‘No. You’ve heard of Utah? I’m from there.’
‘You’re kidding!’
‘No, my dad moved there in the nineties to work at a tech company and never left. It’s nice.’
‘Is that why you’re so good with computers?’ I ask. Jellie always has a way of getting new information from people and I want to take in every little Molly detail she unearths. ‘Because your dad taught you?’
‘I was a child of the internet,’ she says. ‘But yeah, we always had a computer and he was always teaching us things about them. I think he thought the more screen time the better.’
I don’t know what she means by this ‘screen time’ but I lean forward, soaking in every word.
‘Siblings?’ Jellie asks and takes another sip of blood through her metal straw.
‘A brother, yeah. Caleb. He’s in Utah too.’
‘Do you miss it?’ I ask. I know very little about Utah, other than the rock formations in the shape of arches. And the red rocks. Saguaro cactuses? No, that’s Arizona.
‘Sometimes. My parents live near a bunch of farms and I loved riding my bike on sunny days down the roads. It was quieter, there. And peaceful.’
‘Elijah loved to wander around fields himself,’ Jellie says. ‘Our dreamer.’
It almost hurts to remember it after so long. Feeling the sun on my face and having peace instead of being drained by it. I ache for that feeling of my face tilted to the bright blue sky, soaking in warm daylight.
There was a period, after Ada, where I put myself in the sun as a punishment. It doesn’t feel good, being drained like that, and I tried to sleep my way through a few decades. No way to live, really.
Though I suppose that’s just it; I’m not alive. Dead, or maybe undead. Half dead.
We talk a short while longer before Molly makes her excuses and I walk her out. We don’t kiss goodbye with my sister watching, but I do wish I was brave enough to run to her and kiss her again like I did in the office.
‘Thanks for dinner,’ she says from inside the elevator. ‘You’re a good cook.’
‘Good night, Molly.’
‘Night,’ she says, as the metal doors slide shut.
Back in Dylan’s flat, Jellie thumbs through one of my books, a genre I think is called the omegaverse? I don’t know–Kai recommended it and I thought it sounded interesting.
I sit in the spot Molly just vacated and wait for Jellie to say it. I bite my lower lip as she returns the book to the side table.
‘She was sweet,’ Jellie says, voice too gentle. I close my eyes and nod.
‘It’s not like last time,’ I tell her. I’m aware I sound defensive denying it before Jellie can even say it. But it’s not. I’ve learned, I know better. I am better.
‘It could be,’ Jellie says with a shrug. ‘What happened to Ada–brother, that was rare. Just because it happened once doesn’t mean it’s fated to happen again.’
‘Doesn’t matter,’ I say. ‘We’re friends. That’s all.’
I leave out the with benefits bit, because she already sees straight through me. Admitting to any additional intimacy is only going to spur her on further.
‘All right,’ Jellie says, her tone surrendering. She’ll drop it for now. ‘Molly is very beautiful.’
‘Yeah,’ I agree, seeing in my mind the way her hair falls over the collar of her pink puffer coat, her nose scrunched when I say something she thinks absurd, and those eyes.
‘I’d like to shower,’ Jellie says. ‘And then I’ll need a nap. Too much sun for my taste today.’
I show her to the bathroom and leave her to it before sinking back on the couch. The book Molly held up excitedly is on top of the stack and I grab it, Gemma settling on my lap to keep me company while I try to distract myself from yellow curls and expressive, golden eyes.
The following evening, Jellie and I waltz about the city until we find a building with a nice tall roof, high above the ground, and compel someone to grant us access. I haven’t seen Jellie in years, and walking with her is reminiscent of the way I followed her everywhere as a child.
We stand with our elbows on the rail, looking down at the breathing city.
She looks like she always has, her face so familiar to me after so many years.
Of all of us, she and Mother had the most to gain from being turned, and where Mother has gained social power among vampires, Evangeline has used her many years to better understand the world, to research life’s many mysteries, to help paranormals and humans alike.
She’s brilliant, and I like her more than I like any vampire I’ve ever known.
She’s got hair the same colour as mine, wavy and shoulder length, but her eyes are green, like our father’s were.
Gregory takes after our mother with his sharp features, where Evangeline and I always looked more like our father.
He died before Mother was turned, but I don’t think he would’ve had a taste for vampirism anyway.
Father loved nothing more than resting in the sun in the evening or after a meal. He loved being alive.
‘What have you been working on these days, anyway?’ I bump Jellie’s shoulder with mine and she tenses, face twisting into a grimace before she shakes her head. I stand straighter, turning my body to face hers. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s really bad, Elijah,’ Jellie whispers. ‘I would be severely punished.’
Jellie is always up to something, always trying to figure out what’s possible, and she’s so damn good at it that the council lets her do what she likes. They have a long leash for her, so the thought of her reaching the end of it astounds me.
‘Evangeline.’