Rory

Mara rose from her stool and said, “Before I send you on your way, know that I’ll be meeting with each of you privately. We’ll go over specifics of your unique innate abilities and I’ll introduce you to the principles of transit magic—portals—in another session with you after.”

Without warning, an invisible hand gripped Rory, forcing her legs to stand. She clenched her jaw and fought against her own body as it walked with its own purpose towards the old crone. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she stood so close the rancid air of the older woman’s breath assailed her nose.

A gnarled finger pressed into the middle of Rory’s forehead and a voice spoke in her mind, “You’ll stay behind. There’s more for us to discuss.”

Still fighting back her emotions, she could do little more than nod her head in agreement.

As the crone walked around the room grew silent, only disrupted by the soft sounds of her skirts and thud of her staff. She touched the remaining members in the same fashion until they all rose, each face thoughtful or, in Sven’s case, skeptical.

A bald young woman with glowing eyes, no older than twenty, appeared from a hidden door and silently stood by the entrance they’d come in. “This way,” she said, and revealed a dark room with a dirt floor and messy stonework walls—a root cellar.

“Have I lost it? That ain’t the room we came out of, is it?” Sven crossed his arms, and held one eye shut.

“It’s not,” the unnamed woman said and walked through.

“Are you coming, Rory?” Byron asked.

“She’ll be along soon enough. Go on. There’s work to do.” Mara said, watching them go before turning her attention back on Rory. “Now.”

“That was horrible. Why’d you do that to me? What was that?”

“That, my dear, was what it feels like to be on the receiving end of your ability.”

Shame flooded Rory as she recalled Byron’s frozen form at the farmhouse and him stiffly putting her down the night he put her on his shoulder. Of Doc, Sven and Nadine, their faces drained of color as they spoke words they wouldn’t have otherwise.

“You see then. Your gift is dangerous. Out of all your friends, you are the only one with two paths stretched out before you. One is treacherous and deceitful. The abuse of the power means it controls you and your free will is lost. The other path will be hard. You’ll always be fighting the impulses that I can see are growing inside you already. But with this path, you control your power and maintain your own free will. Do you see?”

Rory wanted to scream. Felt it creeping up inside her throat, but she fought the urge. Only then did she manage a whispered, “How is this a gift?”

“Ah, see? There you’re learning already. You realized it was imprudent to yell. Instead of acting on impulses, you took the more difficult path.”

“How is this a gift?”

“Isn’t it better to avoid a war? To change course before lives are lost on the battlefield? That is why it’s a gift. It’s not a gift because Aurora wants new shoes or Aurora needs to learn what her friends are thinking. That’s selfish, and that’s the way of losing yourself. Think about these things before you act. Who gains the most by using your power?” Mara held a palm to Rory’s cheek. “I have faith that you can accomplish whatever you set your mind to Aurora. You just need that faith as well. Now, go join your friends.”

* * *

Rory set both feet on the dirt floor. She turned and saw that a large round section of the stone wall glimmered and moved like it was under the surface of a crystal-clear brook. Otherwise, she was in a rather ordinary root cellar with aged wooden shelves, some broken and hanging by a nail. The surrounding air lost a magical quality and stank of dust and pickling.

She moved by the dim light cast from the watery portal, up the stairs and into an all too familiar house. The day allowed her to see her surroundings better, but the living room had barely changed from the night she’d spent there with Byron. Even his headless dance partner remained. Still leaning over a stack of boxes where he’d twirled it away in favor of her. She felt her cheeks flush and noticed Byron standing on the opposite side of the room, watching her with a crooked smile.

“This room is mine!” Billie said in excitement from upstairs.

“If the ladies are okay with that. Remember?” Doc’s booming voice was unmistakable. “We’re gentleman and ladies always get first pick.”

“Mine is downstairs,” Nadine said from a room off the living area.

Dumbstruck, Rory could only watch the immobile figure in the summer dress. “I can’t believe it’s the same house.”

“Not sure what you mean,” Byron said, his eyes burning into hers. “Thought that night didn’t happen.”

Flustered, she fought for words that wouldn’t come and her pulse quickened under his gaze.

“Did I just hear Rory!” Nadine burst into the room and stopped short. Embarrassment reddened the tips of her ears. “Oh poop. I just came in at a really bad time, huh? I’m sorry.”

“Hey!” She smoothed her hair and took a deep breath, welcoming the interruption. “No. No need to apologize.”

“If you’re sure.” Nadine cupped a hand to her mouth, “Rory’s here, everybody.”

Sneakers squelched upstairs and thudded towards the stairs. “There’s room’s up here!” Billie called. “There’s one with my bag in it you definitely don’t want and then others you can pick from.”

Rory picked a corner spot with two windows that overlooked the area. While the furnishings of the room were spartan—comprising a bed and end table—the materials were sturdy and in good condition. In the closet, she found some clothing and made a mental note to sort through it later after Billie ran in and said there was a picnic.

Outside, Nadine and Byron sat on a moth-eaten flannel blanket with a spread of fresh fruits. They looked serious as they talked, but both brightened as the others joined them.

“Why so serious?” Sven asked, nearly stepping on a plate before plopping down.

“C’mon, man, no problems today, huh? It’s a good day.” Doc gave his friend a pleading look.

“Not a single problem, mate. If Rory and Dini here are good with ‘im.” Sven nodded at Byron. “Guess I can stop bein’ an arse about the whole thing.”

“Really?” Doc crossed his arms, disbelief etched plainly across his face. “Just like that?”

“Why not?” Sven shrugged and popped a grape in his mouth. “I mean, I’m not gonna go buggerin’ him anytime soon.” He glanced over at Byron and grinned his wicked grin. “Unless you want a go.” He put a hand to his groin that was quickly slapped away by Nadine before it could get any worse.

“No. I most definitely do not. But I appreciate the sentiment that’s mangled somewhere in those words,” Byron said.

And with that weight lifted, the group laughed.

* * *

Besides personal meetings with Mara, the witches educated each other in their various abilities and skills in the evenings while they spent days on the cleaning, fixing and planting of making the abandoned house a home.

Nadine took Sven out regularly to look for herbs and other medicinal plants he might find useful for potions.

Billie took to helping in the garden, finding he enjoyed talking to the plants and according to Nadine they loved to hear his stories as well.

Doc taught Rory first aid basics while they bandaged a giggling Billie up for all the hypothetical injuries they could think of.

Byron showed Sven the music player and wind-up generator he’d found his night with Rory, and the animosities between the two lessened even further. They became even closer when Byron returned one evening with the missing Betts and cart in tow. Sven danced and kissed the horse on the snout, even attempted to kiss Byron as well, who pushed him away.

* * *

In the middle of the night Byron tapped on Rory’s door and asked, “Are you awake? I caught the trail of a nearby Starfall. Wondered if you’d like to go see what was left.”

With you? Alone? Her lips formed the words on her mind, but wouldn’t make their sound. She said, “Yeah. Give me a second.” And pulled on black jeans with a matching tank top. All dressed, she paused over her reflected image and clicked her tongue. Her ensemble clung indecently to her curves, and if she bent over, he’d get a good show at all angles. What would Mom say if she could see her little girl now? A hand fell on a makeup bag Nadine gave her and she applied deep red lipstick along with eyeliner. At the sight of herself in the mirror, she puckered her mouth and smiled.

An irritated sigh sounded from the hall adjoining her room and Byron asked, “How much longer?” With her shoulders pulled back, she strolled out to meet him, and the emerald green sparks inset in his blue eyes danced at the sight. “You sure cleanup nice.” He motioned to the worn holes in his clothes and said, “Might want to warn a fellow next time when you’re planning to dress to the nines. You’re about knocking me off my feet here.”

She wrinkled her nose and said, “Got to keep you on your toes somehow. But don’t get any ideas. I just threw on whatever was clean. Tomorrow is laundry day, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” He pushed a rough palm into hers and shot an inquiring look when she took a step back. “We’re past the fear thing, aren’t we?”

“Getting there, at least. Still a little nervous.”

He nodded. “Kind of seems like you get to pick the safe word. With your power and all.”

Mara’s warning not far from her mind, Rory frowned as she felt the blood drain from her face. “Yeah, sure.” She wriggled her fingers in his grip and asked, “Shouldn’t we get moving?”

A momentary rapture faltered and died in Byron’s expression. “We should,” he said.

Hand-in-hand they walked over the scorched earth through a forest of new growth buried under thickets of old. An extended silence broke when a spasm of nervous giggles got the better of Rory. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s come over me. I haven’t been sleeping well lately. Maybe I’m delirious.”

He shook his head and smiled. “No need to apologize. I can’t imagine how much of an adjustment it is to travel three hundred years in time and find the world all destroyed around you. For me it happened so gradually, well, it all kind of snuck up on me.” His cool grip tightened and he let her go. “I’m going to shimmy up one of these trees and see if I can’t get a better look. Think I might have lost my direction. The longer we take finding whatever dropped, the more dangerous it gets. Don’t think I’ve ever seen Blueskins this far west, but then they’ve been defying my expectations a lot lately.” And with that, he shot up a timber that stood thirty-some feet in but a few jumps. At the top he said, “Good news is we’re on track, but the bad news is there’re a few bogies in the way. Damn it.” He hopped back down. “We should probably just turn around.”

He reached out to her, and she crossed her arms. A shiver electrified her spine as she remembered her fearful minutes after traveling. “It could be someone out there though. Are we really going to leave them to fend for themselves?”

His eyes darted back and forth. “Well, no. I just thought you’d be safer… I mean, I can pick the trail back up later. Chances are it’s just supplies. It’s kind of rare for Starfalls to be anything else. You ever notice how there’s things that aren’t manufactured any longer that look brand new?”

Rory’s mind went back to the fresh kit of makeup she’d used earlier. Part of her had assumed Nadine crafted the cosmetics. Starfall? She huffed and said, “Still, it could be someone who needs help, right?”

“Well, yeah.”

“And it’s just Blueskins out there?”

“Not sure. Could be vampires too, or who knows. Just saw movement.”

“Could it be an animal? A deer?”

He shrugged. “I guess…”

“Well then, all the better. Let’s go.”

“Rory if anything were to happen to-”

“I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself. Come on.”

A branch snapped, and he thrust her to the ground. On their stomachs, he motioned for silence and raised his head. In a harsh whisper he said, “Voices. Can’t make out from who or what, but they’re headed this way. Stay down.” He sprang to his feet and zigzagged through the brush. Two loud cries echoed in the night. Moments later, Byron gestured for her to stand. “We’re safe.” He pointed to a pile of three Blueskins and said, “Got the drop on the one, but the others saw me before I could get to them. A little messy on my part. Sorry.”

Rory gasped and asked, “Are they dead?”

“Unconscious. No point in slaughtering them now that I’m on the outs with Alma and probably the brood too. But we better get a move on. There might be more and if there’s too many, well, it’s going to go another way.”

She shivered briefly at what he meant by ‘another way,’ and hugged her arms against her chest, shaking her head.

As though he read her mind, he said, “I’m trying, Rory. And I’ve been trying for longer than you know. I can hold the instinct back better than that first time we met all those years ago. Long as I don’t get too thirsty.”

A gaze passed between them before she was even aware her eyes met his. She forced a grin and nodded. One of the Blueskins hands twitched and the tightness in her chest released. Her knees ceased their knocking, and she held out a hand to him, which he clasped in his own. His face neared hers ever so, and he blinked before pulling her arm to his side.

“Best get on with it and find this Starfall,” he said.

“Yeah. Best…” she replied and bit the lips she wished were pressed against his.

They walked a few miles more and found a cardboard box full of packing peanuts. Once they unburied the contents, they found a cylindrical kitchen device labeled Salad-Tosser within. A sheepish look worked over his face, and he likely would have blushed if vampires could. “And there you have it, your first Starfall. Was it worth it?”

Unable to suppress laughter, her belly shook out one peal after another until happy tears threatened to spill out. She remembered the infomercial from those late-night hours of TV back in her time. “Hey,” she said. “That’s like $19.95 worth of product there.”

“Only?” Byron asked.

“For a limited time. And if you act quick, there’s an included recipe book.”

“Tell me more.”

* * *

In the nights that followed, Rory would sneak into Byron’s room or he into hers. Softly they’d play the same songs from their first dance together, her feet propped on his, their bodies swaying in unison. Once her eyes became too heavy to continue, they’d fall apart. Afraid of her lack of self-restraint, she’d always end these sessions without a single kiss. Yet, there was no denying she left a little more of herself behind each time they parted.

One afternoon, she watched as he pulled an old motor-less lawnmower out of the barn and set to work fixing it. His muscles stretched and flexed underneath his thin t-shirt as he moved. The building heat inside her threatened to ignite, and she had to do something about it.

Why not? She wondered. He’d shown her his humanity, and in a way, hadn’t he accepted the monster that hid inside her? The time he’d attacked her, she was able to protect herself. But when she used her ability on him, he remained peaceful or was rendered defenseless.

I’m a hypocrite.

Through the rest of the day she fought urges to pull him into a corner and beg for forgiveness. She wanted to hold him and show how much she’d changed her mind. There was even a sudden pang of unexpected excitement at the thought of giving herself to him in another way. Allowing him to drink from her. The intimacy of being that close had an undeniable allure.

The night couldn’t come fast enough, and she paced the hours alone in her room. Still early, but past the rest of the house's bedtime, she couldn’t wait any longer. Stripped of her clothing, she wrapped a sheet to cover herself. After hearing Doc and Sven’s snores, she felt confident enough to emerge from her bedroom. She tiptoed to Byron’s room, let herself in and shut the door behind her.

“What are you doing in here?” Byron’s voice was harsh, not at all like his normal tone.

She spun to face him and gasped—nearly losing her grip on the sheet she wore.

He hunched over Billie who happily waved at her, trying to hug the vampire closer to him. “Almost done and then he’s all yours.”

Byron pushed him away. Turning to face her, he wiped something red from his mouth.

Blood, Rory. Not just something red. It’s blood. “I shouldn’t be here,” she said and left the house. Her shoulders shook with hard sobs and she ran as fast as her feet could go. Naked under the sheet, she bawled, realizing how crazy she’d look if anyone found her.

And someone did—Byron.

“Rory, wait.” He grabbed her arm and held her in place. “I’m sorry you had to see that, but why didn’t you knock?”

“That doesn’t really matter now does it?” She tried to shake her arm free, but his grip was iron. “Besides, what does it look like? Just another dumb, impulsive move by Rory.” She shuddered and turned her head away.

He shook his head in frustration and asked, “What exactly are you angry about? That you saw me drinking, or that I was drinking from Billie?”

“Yes,” she said and huffed. Humiliation set in, and she wished she’d thought things through a little better. Why couldn’t she have opted for a striptease? At least then she’d still have her clothes on.

“That doesn’t answer my question either way. But I need to eat and I won’t apologize for it.”

“How often are you with him before you’re with me?”

Realization filled Byron’s eyes. “Are you jealous? Of Billie?”

“No.”

“I think you are a little bit.” He grinned, pushing back wild strands of her hair. “You are one of the most frustrating people I’ve ever met.”

As if burned by his caress, she recoiled and pushed him away. “Get your hands off me.”

“Rory…” Byron held out his hands to her.

“Leave and get away from me, you fucking monster.” Magic charged each of her words and his eyes reddened. The man from table five bared his fangs at her, snarled and disappeared into the night.