Chapter 34 Elijah
Elijah
My mother’s estate outside London is as grand as I remember, made even more idyllic by the sheet of fresh snow covering every surface. I think of Molly’s face watching the snow fall outside her living-room window, wonder in her eyes.
When I walked in on Sunday, a duffel bag and a backpack in hand, my mother started like she’d seen a ghost. Maybe she had–I felt like one.
I’ve felt quite ghostly since leaving Molly’s apartment, unfinished business hanging over my head.
Dylan was away on his leadership trip focusing on not turning one of his colleagues into a werewolf, so I thought it best not to bother him, instead leaving a note thanking him for his hospitality and friendship with a promise to call soon.
Mother embraced me before coddling me like a small child for many hours, insisting I drink from one of the human maids, then compelling her to bleed into a goblet for me when I refused.
Two days later now, Evangeline and Gregory have made their way home for an urgent family intervention poorly disguised as a reunion to welcome me back into the fold.
Mother also sent out a broad invite to her closest supernatural friends from the last four centuries, gold-embossed invitations to a celebration for her dear Elijah.
It’s a lot.
Now my siblings and I are spread out across the drawing room, which is still furnished mostly as it was last I visited, only now with more furniture from the past decades, an eclectic mix of pieces and styles.
Gregory stretches his long body over a pale blue settee, Evangeline in an orange side chair from the 1970s, and me deflated in a plush loveseat that must be new.
No light filters through the glass windows, middle of the night as it is, and I imagine Molly asleep in her bed, with only the cat for company. I debated bringing Gemma with me, but I fear she would have rebelled until reunited with her one true human love, Molly.
I get it.
Gregory didn’t use to be such an insufferable human, but I think that’s because he wasn’t very strong. He was curious and humble, bullied relentlessly as a lad, and being turned into a powerful immortal changed parts of his personality, and not for the better.
He is my brother, and I do believe family bonds are important, but he’s never shied away from making known his distaste for my interest in humans.
When I tell him where I’ve spent the last few months, where Jellie looks sad for me, pitying, Gregory bellows a laugh that’s probably audible in the next town.
‘Why would you wish to work among them?’ Gregory asks. ‘All you had to do to access your funds was come home.’
‘I was behind on the times,’ I tell him.
‘I’m surprised you relinquished your manor house to the state instead of compelling your way into another hundred years of solitude,’ he adds.
Of course, I’d considered staying where I’d been, but part of me knew I wanted a change. Needed one. It was past time to start moving on, and keeping the manor would be too much of a temptation to fall back on when things inevitably got difficult. Like now, for instance.
‘What did you learn about modern humans, then? Were you put off by their vanities and anxieties, the way they live and die by the words on their screens, the scrolling and scrolling?’ he asks.
I’m astounded at the reductive observation, the one missing so much of the innovation, thoughtfulness, and magic of humanity.
‘You’ve grown even more cynical in your old age,’ I tell him.
Gregory snorts. ‘Well, have you had your fill? Learned your lesson the hard way again?’
‘Gregory,’ Evangeline warns.
‘What lesson is that?’ I ask.
‘That getting too close to stupid humans will only lead to regret and wasted longing. I’ll never understand your insistence on emotional angst when you can simply live better. You focus on the wrong people.’
‘Don’t be a dick, Gregory.’ Evangeline leans over and smacks our brother on the back of his head. He only shrugs, pushes his sunglasses up his nose and lounges back on the velvet couch. The sun set hours ago.
‘I can see the angst on him! Elijah would make the humans writing of our kind proud, always moping about, lamenting his immortality when most would kill to be as he is.’
‘Not everyone wants the ceaseless oblivion of an eternity with self-absorbed vampires,’ I mutter.
‘Brother, your self-importance continues to astound me.’
‘Boys,’ our mother snaps, sweeping into the sitting room in a black gown. ‘Enough fighting. Lord, four centuries and you still act like pecking chickens.’
‘Hi, Mother,’ I greet. She crouches in front of me and pushes my hair from my forehead before kissing my cheek.
‘My boy,’ she says. ‘You look handsome. And so very sad.’
‘Told you,’ Gregory mutters, and I raise my middle finger to him like I imagine Molly would if she were here. He laughs harder; there is no limit to his amusement at my displeasure.
‘Gregory is right. Tell us, did you fall in love with another human?’ she asks.
My shoulders slump slightly and her face shows a knowing pity that makes me feel worse.
She pinches my cheek, like she did when I was a boy, like she’s done for four centuries.
My mother turned us all because she loves us, and I’ve begrudged her this off and on through our time roaming the Earth.
But she would do it again, I know. She would choose for us to live again and again.
‘What’s this one’s name?’ Gregory asks. ‘I’m going to guess one of those non-name human names. Trevin? Fender?’
‘I’m beginning to think the reason your brother stayed away for a hundred years is because of you, Gregory,’ Mother says. She pats my cheeks once more, then gives me some space and perches on the arm of Evangeline’s chair.
‘I’m glad you’re home, Elijah,’ Evangeline says. Her gaze has been the saddest, most knowing of all.
‘Thank you.’
‘Now, do tell, what is this mystery human’s name?’ Mother asks, no less nosy than Gregory, only less cruel.
‘Molly,’ I report. ‘An American.’
I could tell them of her wild hair like unrestrained sunshine, her earnest writing that could move even Gregory into loving humanity again, her analytical mind, her way of falling asleep while reading, book still propped in her hand while her eyes flutter shut.
I refrain.
‘Why not change her?’ Mother asks.
‘Worked really well the last time,’ Gregory says and I hear another slap against his skull, this time followed by a whining ouch.
‘Can we please talk about something else?’ I ask. ‘As fun as this is.’
Mother sighs but acquiesces, dropping the topic of my human. Gregory follows suit, probably in fear of Evangeline’s glare.
‘Yes, well, guests begin arriving at half nine.’
Evangeline gasps. ‘That’s half an hour from now.’
Mother shrugs like she can’t control the clock, though she did set up the festivities without filling us in on the specifics.
‘Well, unless you want to greet the council and beyond in your academia chic, I recommend you hop to it. You too, my sweet, sad boy.’
Mother squeezes my fingers then pats my shoulder.
I do as she says, retreating with Evangeline to our rooms upstairs. Dylan calls just after the start of the party, and I excuse myself to take it after the third missed call. I assume he’s found my note.
‘I’m sorry I haven’t called sooner,’ I tell him as soon as the line connects. I speak quietly in a guest room upstairs, as far from the partygoers as I could get while still staying inside.
‘Oh thank God you picked up, dude, I’m freaking out.’
‘Because… I left?’ I ask, feeling his reaction disproportionate to the circumstances.
Dylan pauses so long on the other side of the line that I check to see that it’s still connected.
‘Because you what?’ he finally asks.
‘I thought you saw my note. I–I had to leave. I’m with my family now.’
‘In fucking England?!’ Dylan sounds increasingly panicked at the discovery. Again, not the emotion I was anticipating from him at this news.
‘Dylan, what happened?’ I ask as directly as I can.
He sighs heavily into the receiver. ‘Last night was the full moon and—’ Dylan cuts off again.
I can imagine his phone clutched in his palm, face screwed up. I don’t know what happened, but he’s rarely so intense, so severe.
‘What is it?’
‘The retreat was going great, I was schmoozing like you wouldn’t believe, promotion locked in. But the full moon was rising so I did my fake sick thing, but then Luke Lemming fucking kissed me.’
‘Oh?’ Not exactly where I thought the story was going, but I’m not necessarily surprised that Luke and Dylan kissed. Not when Dylan talks about Luke with such annoyance and barely veiled desire. I wasn’t going to be the one to tell Dylan that he wanted the guy, though.
‘The shift was coming on fast all of a sudden and I was running and Luke just kept following me, and then, I… he…’
I breathe in sharply. ‘Oh shit.’
‘I’ve never shifted so fast. I usually have time, but as soon as I was at the edge of the forest, I was going wolf and Luke chased me outside trying to apologise or something, I don’t know.’
‘Dylan, did you… bite him?’
Dylan is quiet, but I can hear him breathing through the line.
‘Yeah,’ he says finally. ‘I bit him. Fuck.’
The news knocks me sideways. I have to sit down on the ornate four-poster bed to process this.
Turning a werewolf isn’t unlike turning a vampire–the being responsible for the change is expected to assist with the onboarding, so to speak.
Dylan will have to teach Luke everything he needs to know for this very permanent condition that will affect nearly every aspect of his (now extended) life.
‘Fuck,’ I agree. ‘What are you going to do?’
‘Only thing I can, I guess. Help him? We’ll both have to take the rest of December off, which our boss is going to just love. The pack said they’ll help up north for the first month. I was going to ask if you’ll be okay to hold down the apartment until then but seems like you just left?’
‘It was… urgent. I had to leave.’
‘To protect Molly or yourself?’ he asks.
I don’t think he intended the question to feel as cutting as it does. The answer is Molly. Isn’t it? And myself in a way? Expediting present discomfort to avoid further, future pain?
‘I didn’t know what else to do,’ I tell him. ‘If there was another way, I…’
A loud knock sounds on the door. Evangeline pushes it open while putting in a pair of hoop earrings.
‘Come on then,’ she says. ‘Mother’s about seven seconds from freaking out if you don’t get downstairs for your party.’
I sigh. ‘Dylan, I’ll call you tomorrow.’
There’s a party I must attend to, this one in my honour.
Texts between Matt Lemming and Molly Mason on 18 December 2026
Matty: Molly, I’m sorry for upsetting you last week. I would love to meet up and talk. I feel like I have explaining to do. Please?
Molly: No thank you.
Matty: Please? For some closure for us both. I have been feeling like I need to at least try to make amends for months now. Just got the nerve to reach out to you again.
Matty: I’ll come to your neighbourhood, even.
Molly: You’re relentless
Molly: When?
Matty: Thank God.
Matty: Friday?