MY CHOICE MADE ...

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Back at Rhys' house, we got out of the car and I hobbled around to the sidewalk where Rhys was bent down, inspecting something. His pant leg was up. On display was the price he'd paid for being at the warehouse – deep, reddened scratches that were starting to bruise, were etched into his skin from his knee to his ankle. At that moment, I saw my best friend in a different light, and my respect for him doubled. "Your first battle wound."

He lowered his pant leg. Smiling wryly, he straightened. "I prefer these to being possessed. At least this way I know I'm still me." He looked over at Zil, and without sarcasm, said, "Tonight – thanks."

"You are welcome."

"Wait – does this mean you'll try to get along with him now?" I whispered to Rhys.

He shot me a semi-dirty look. "I'll see you tomorrow ... in the daylight." He walked up to his house and, after carefully unlocking the door, he stepped inside and closed it softly behind him. I heard it as he reset the bolt.

"I hope his parents don't wake up and see him sneaking in. We'll both have a lot of explaining to do."

"Why both of you?" Zil asked.

"They'll know he was with me."

A smile started at the corner of his lips. "I have a secret to share with you – they will not. Before we left for the warehouse, Zaamee went into his house and did a spell so his parents would not awaken." Before I could say anything, Zil added quickly, "Harmless, I assure you. It was done in the same manner as his cleansing. For the rest of the night, he can make as much noise as he wants, and they will never know."

"Neither will Rhys – because if he knew, he'd hit the roof." Then, thinking about earlier in the night, I began to smile. "And you let him believe he had to push his car?"

"I would not say I let him. I would say I did not argue with him." Zil took my hand. "Can you spare some time for me, or are you tired, as well?"

"I'm not too tired."

In the moonlight, the way his cheek was turned, I could see the place where I was made to scratch him. But just like Zil had said it would, the wound had healed – nothing left to mar his perfect skin remained. It had been close and, at one point I thought we'd lose everything, but the night ended the way it was supposed to; our team was victorious over the evil entity.

Gradually I realized he'd been watching me the entire time.

With no real reason for doing it, other than as a show of gratitude, a way to express my appreciation for all he'd done, risking himself – for me, for everyone, I reached up to kiss him.

Zil accepted and kissed me back.

When we parted, he stroked my cheek lightly with his thumb and gazed at me with slightly dulled eyes, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. "I thought I lost you."

"You didn't ... Ange," I whispered.

He pulled back a little. "Ange? No one has called me that in ages. Why did you?"

"Because it's your name and because you were my angel tonight – my guardian angel."

He scoffed softly. "Do you not mean 'fallen angel'?"

"No, and don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you don't trust me. Isn't that what we're supposed to do – trust each other?"

His eyes moved from mine.

"Zil, what you did for us back there, all of us – you were an angel. Not 'fallen' – just ... angel. Clearly you were. Even the priest thought so. Otherwise he would've taken over one of us. But he didn't. Instead, he chose you."

Thoughtful eyes moved back to mine. "No one has ever said that to me before."

"Then I was the first. That means it's special."

"Everything you say to me is. Wait here. I have something for you." He walked over to the start of the porch steps and bent down. I couldn't see what he was reaching for, but when he turned, a white rose was in his hand. He held it out to me. "I wanted to give this to you earlier tonight, but the timing did not seem quite right."

"Not just petals, but the whole flower this time," I said. "What's this for?"

"Do I need a reason?"

"No. You don't. Thank you, it's pretty." I took it and gasped when I felt a sharp sting. I looked. My thumb was bleeding.

My eyes rose to his.

For a second, Zil watched my blood flow, but then seemed to realize what he was doing and snapped out of his trance. "I apologize. I thought I had removed all of the thorns."

Knowing he'd still be able to smell my blood, I quickly switched the rose to my left hand and shoved my right hand into my front pants' pocket. "I can go and wash it off, if it would make it better ... somehow ... because I ..."

Initially, Zil said nothing. Then came his quiet reply, "I will not attack. I promise – you are safe."

I tried to think of another, less enticing, topic to take both of our minds off of my bleeding thumb, but blurted out instead, "I've wanted to ask ... what were you like in your mortal life, before you became ...? Um ... I mean, you ... as a mortal – what was it like?"

He effortlessly picked up on the conversation as if the switch had been expected. "I was rash and sometimes foolish, as most young boys are. But I loved life, God ... and the sunlight. Every morning, I would awaken early to watch as the sun rose over the horizon, and every evening as it set. That, and my lost opportunity to serve God, was the thing I most missed after I became what I am now."

I hesitated a moment, hoping I wouldn't ask the wrong question. "What about when you went to see your mom?"

The question seemed to affect him. Quietly, Zil answered, "As I have said before, when I arrived back here as a vampire, every night following, for a very long time, I would steal back to my family home. I would stand outside and agonized as I listened to her cry. I abhorred the sound, but it was the only way I knew how to atone for my sins. Then, on my final visit ..." He paused and I could see the pain he felt that night in his eyes. Softly, he continued, "Then, on my final visit, I listened, but heard nothing. Fearing something terrible had befallen her, I peeked through the window. She was there, alone with her thoughts ... and I heard them. She had come to accept my death. It was a significant moment in her life ... and the most terrible of mine."

"Because she'd decided to move on?"

"Because I thought she had stopped loving me."

My heart broke for him – I could almost imagine his sorrow, and I chastised myself for bringing it up. Bad memories – it wasn't how the night should end, for either of us.

"It is not your fault, Ashe. Forgive yourself. Naturally, you would be curious."

"Stop that. No mind reading."

"I am afraid that I cannot. My desire to know what you are thinking remains constant."

"Then let me know what you're thinking. What did you want to talk to me about?"

He reached up under the collar of his shirt and slowly pulled out a necklace. He unclasped it and held it out for me to see. It was angel's wings. "I saw it one night, and liked it, so I took it."

"You stole it."

"You are accusing me of something I did not do. I found it on the ground where someone had callously dropped it." He shrugged. "Angel's wings. I pretended it was meant for me, a sign from God, symbolizing who I was ... who I had been so long ago." He held it out to me. "I want you to have it."

I was speechless for a moment. Finally, I found my tongue. "I can't."

"Why not? Do you not like it?"

"I do, it's just ... first you save my life, and everyone else's, then the flower, and now the necklace. I have nothing to offer in return."

Zil moved behind me. I shivered at the slight chill of the thin metal as he placed it around my neck and clasped it. He came to stand before me again and gazed at the necklace before raising his eyes to mine. "Yes, you do. You already have. Every time we are together, you make me feel alive." He placed his hand over his heart. "You have made me feel."

He leaned in slowly to kiss me, but I turned my chin. His brow creased and he took a step back. "Is there something wrong?"

It was awkward; not just because of what he was about to do, but because I'd overheard his conversation with Zaamee and couldn't let it go. Even at the cost to ruining the moment, I decided to bring it up. "The flower and the necklace are beautiful, but – I'm not afraid. I know what you are and I'm okay with it. You're still my friend."

Expressionless, he said, "Thank you."

Not sure where to go from there, I steeled myself against whatever his reaction might be when I pressed for more. "I heard what Zaamee said, and – I agree."

"No, Ashe. No." He moved away from me soundlessly, but then turned to face me. "That, I cannot give you. You do not know what it is like."

"Don't call an end to this before you hear what I have to say. Don't shut me out."

"Ashe, I do not want to be responsible for your ..." He paused. Then, seeming to choose his words carefully, he continued, "You are perfect the way you are. My world is in the dark. Yours is in the light. You can come into my world, for a time, but you can leave it at will to return to your own. If you come all the way over, there is no return. You cannot change your mind. It is – eternal." He cast his eyes to the ground.

I regretted saying it, but I was agitated, too – with myself. I'd been the one to bring it up, even though I didn't fully understand why I was chasing the idea of immortality ... my own. I wanted to look for ghosts, and to help them find their closure, but I didn't want to die to do it – and I didn't know if it would eventually come to that. But if I did, I'd have to be honest with myself ... would it be without complaint, knowing it would be my atonement for my parents' death? Zil hadn't brought it up, and I sure wasn't about to. But I had brought up something that made things uncomfortable between us, and I needed to change it right then.

"I feel like you think I'm not good enough. Why do you think I'm so unworthy?"

Maybe it was the vampire in him, but he looked tormented. "It is not you, chere, who is unworthy. You are still pure. If anyone is unworthy, it is me. I am – a monster. I have led a tainted existence, one I think you are ill-prepared to experience. I want to protect you – always. This is not the sort of life for a young person such as yourself. I do it because ..." A sad smile played at the corner of his mouth as he came back to me and gently touched his thumb to my cheek. "It is important to me that you remain unchanged. I cannot offer you more of an explanation than that tonight." He leaned closer. When I didn't turn away, he said softly, "Chere, I must warn you ... there is danger in a vampire's kiss." Before I could ask what he meant by that, his lips touched mine – and I could feel the emotion of his words in his kiss.

The sensation was unfamiliar – confusing, too. I wanted to tell myself that it was nothing, only a gesture ... but I couldn't.

Before, when anyone would try to get close, I'd shut them out. I didn't want to be bogged down by anyone's sticky 'feelings.' But with Zil, it hadn't worked – and I wasn't sure I wanted it to anymore. Without knowing how, or when, and despite how stupid and dangerous it could be, he'd become someone I'd learned to rely on. But it was more than that ... he meant something to me, deeper than friendship, but just how deep, I didn't know. He'd said he cared, that I 'got' to him, and I liked that I did, because he 'got' to me, too, on a certain level. But ... would it be enough to help me sort through the tangled web of doubts I had about him, about life, about ... everything – or, complicate things further?

Time would tell.

Feeling uncomfortable and a little guilty over my mixed emotions, I broke the embrace to bring an end to the night so he wouldn't read my mind and know, when the sound of clapping interrupted me.

"Bravo! Bravo! Oh! I almost cried, it was so touching."

Looking past me, Zil scowled. "What are you doing here?"

I turned.

The person slowly emerged from the shadows. But even before he fully had, I recognized him by his confident stride.

"Montague ..." I whispered.

Despite Zil's promise of protection, I quickly limped a few steps back.

With a quick glance, and too casual of an air, Montague said, "Your house, I presume, pretty miss?" Then, looking slightly more mischievous, he peered at me out of the corner of his eye for only a moment before turning to face me fully. "You haven't been to Cortland Bridge lately. Don't you miss the magic we shared? Oh, but my manners ... I am Montague, Master Magician, hater of mortals ..." He looked me over, and then added, "Although, you're different. Interesting even."

"I know who you are," I murmured.

He smiled slowly, wickedly.

Zil stepped between us. "Montague, I swear, if you harm her ..."

Despite his insincere smile and intense stare, he was handsome, and his eyes ... black and ringed with gold – hypnotic.

In shocked disgust, Zil looked at me. "Really?"

Shifting his crafty gaze to Zil, Montague said off-handedly, "I simply came here to let her know she was missed. But I see you've invested the time with her. How charming. Broken her in?" His roguish grin broadened. "To the Underground?"

Zil moved fast, but Montague was gone. I whipped around. They were behind me. "I see your sign is still intact, young one." With a skillful side glance at Zil, he added, "Among other things."

"Montague, I am warning you ..." Zil started to say.

"You stabbed me," I murmured.

"A mortal, in the bridge." Montague scoffed. "Intolerable. While it was not an actual stab, it was for your best interest, I assure you. I simply enhanced what was already there." He then looked at me pointedly. "Consider this a gift. Pain will not be lasting, or as evident, as before, no matter the source – be it supernatural or mortal. Wounded, you're no fun, although you are an easier target."

Montague's eyes narrowed and his head lowered minutely. I started to back away ...

I gasped as a warm tingling sensation wrapped around me and then seemed to seep into my flesh. Finding it hard to catch my breath, I staggered to the tree and reached for it. I missed, and knelt heavily to the ground.

Zil was at my side.

"Now, lovely, since you're practically one of us to the marrow of your bones, you can freely visit ghosts with no more pesky frailties to interfere." Montague smiled smugly at Zil. "I meant, of course, the mortal kind, not you. Until later, old one."

He vanished.

Zil reached for me and helped me to stand. With slight accusation, he said, "Have you had enough? My world is not safe for you, and Montague is only one reason why."

Disgusted by their display, I removed my arm from Zil's hold and walked up to my front porch and climbed the steps – without any pain! Determined not to openly show my amazement to Zil, I reached for the doorknob ...

Zil was there. I scowled. "Didn't I leave you at the tree?"

"You did."

"Then, good night," I said curtly.

He didn't move.

"Why aren't you leaving?"

"I am waiting for you to go inside and lock the door."

"What about you?" I bit out.

"I can take care of myself." He gestured for me to enter. "Now, please."

I didn't move.

He raised an eyebrow. "I can stay to ensure your safety, even against your wishes."

Forced to give in because I knew he would, I unlocked the door, but didn't immediately step inside. "You're treating me like I'm fragile again. When are you going to get it – I don't need your help, or Montague's! I can face the paranormal by myself!"

"A word of caution, chere. You seem to want to put conditions on the supernatural. You have to accept it as it is – no changes ... especially if you want it to accept you. Choose which you most want – unconditional immortality, or conditional – and then stick to your mortal life and made-up ghost stories. You cannot have it both ways."

To emphasize his words, he was suddenly at the sidewalk. I backed in and closed and locked the door. I went to the window facing the street and peered out through its lacy curtains. Zil was still there. We stared at one another for a long moment. Then, he was gone.

He was trying to teach me a lesson. Though I wouldn't have admitted outright, I wasn't angry at him because he was what he was – I was angry because he'd made sense. As I stayed looking out the window at my empty front yard, I thought back to the beginning; from my parents' death, to moving to Mannix and everything that had happened, including seeing Zil as he truly was, and finally, our night at the warehouse. It had been hellish, much more involved than I'd anticipated. But Zil had been there. He'd suffered to protect us. And, at the end of it all, I'd been unjustifiably hard on him.

The phone rang and interrupted my thoughts. I let the answering machine pick it up as I continued to stare out the window. Rhys' voice came over the speaker. "Ashe, I have some news that might interest you. Trying to get over the night we had, I started looking stuff up online and, of all the stupid things, I found myself looking for ghost hunting equipment. Anyway, an article came up, and like an idiot, I clicked on it. You'll appreciate this ... there's a rumored haunting nearby. The old Sneed home. There's a lot of history, ripe for a haunting. Weird thing is – no one really knows about it. Call me back. Later." He hung up and the recording stopped.

There was a lot to consider. But I knew what I needed to do.

I left for Cemetery Raven. When I entered the grounds, I stopped just past the gate. From where I stood, I could see Zil's mausoleum.

I'm here. Come out.

Seconds later, the door opened and Zil was at the doorway, looking at me.

Meet me half way.

At the exact moment, we started towards one another and didn't stop until we were standing, face to face.

"I heard you and ... I've made my decision."

"Well, chere? What is it?"

"I don't want made-up stories, or conditions. I want this. Knowing what I do, I could never pretend this – you – don't exist. I want to do for others what I couldn't do for my parents – despite the danger. So, about tomorrow night ... I know of a place. Want to go for a ghost hunt?"

THE END

*** This isn't really the end. Ashe's story continues, but I have a nice surprise for all who have read this book, thus far. Have any of you imagined what some of the characters look like as you're reading along? I know many have so ... stay turned for next week when there is more to come!  ***

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