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I’m a what? Ophelia laughed inside herself, an echo feeling. Oh, you’re hilarious. I should really introduce you to my sister. She’s nuts.
A door swung open and hit a wall. “Let her go!”
The one who held her, the cold one, startled at the newcomer.
But the remembered voice embraced Ophelia in warmth. My beloved. It’s okay. He’s my Chosen One.
Strong feelings rushed from him and all over her like warm, desperate caresses.
She tried to move her head, tried with all her heart. I love you, too.
You love him?
Her face heated up. I know it’s crazy. I don’t even know his name, or what he looks like. But, yes, I love him, and I’ve loved him for a long time too.
Her beloved approached. “Let her go.”
I’m here. Ophelia listened for his response, but it never came. Why can’t he hear me?
He’s only human. The cold one didn’t want to stop talking to her. His heart gaped in barren loneliness.
Don’t worry. I can love him and still be your friend.
“I have not tasted the Sweet,” said the cold one. “She intoxicates Newbloods, not me. Besides, I’ve already eaten.”
“What did you eat?” Rage, terror even, radiated from her beloved.
“Uh, I don’t know what it was.” The cold one’s thoughts stumbled back over themselves like he was a little boy who’d done, or almost done, something very bad. “Looked like a giant, fat mouse with hoppy legs and reddish fur.”
A Tundra Vole. It’s okay. Wolves and eagles eat them too. Ophelia knew she was one of only five vegans around.
“But it wasn’t human?” Said her beloved.
The cold one’s body shook. “No! Joseph would be angry.”
“Joseph MacGregor?” Her beloved eased his rage at Joseph’s name, but just a little. “Is he your elder?”
“Father.” The cold one quickly corrected him, a little defensive in doing so. “Not exactly, not yet, but maybe...”
“Okay, I get the picture, you’re really new. Just hand her over.”
The cold one relented, a Beta Male before a true Alpha. “I have been assigned to monitor and protect this Sweet.”
“You can do that at a distance.”
“As can you.”
Her beloved carried her two steps. He’d fallen in too deep to keep his distance any longer.
Me too.
The cold one spoke up. “You’re only a diabecracker. You’re not supposed to...”
Not supposed to love me? Why not? I want him to.
Her beloved stopped. “They’re not getting this one. And neither are you. This one goes free.”
“But...you don’t even know what she really is!” The cold one spun in a mass of emotion, black, white, and pale blue, incomprehensible. “The Sweet will be well-cared for and safe with us. She won’t be turned. She’s very precious to my kind.”
“As bait. You don’t really think the Oldbloods would protect her out of the goodness of their hearts, do you?”
“Joseph would. He has a very good heart.”
“Joseph isn’t in control here. This is Alaska. They don’t call it the Last Frontier for nothing. You’ll find a few renegades here, but it’s almost entirely unexplored and unclaimed by both sides. Do you realize what that means?”
The cold one stood bewildered like he’d just been told there was no Santa Claus.
“Ophelia’s a person.” The words of her beloved struck the cold one like a club. “The Oldbloods would cage her like an animal. She’d never see the light of day again. And then she could be ripped to pieces in battle. Do you think Joseph would want that?”
The cold one clung to Joseph’s memory like he was about to be blown away. She’s my friend, my only friend. He loved Joseph, wanted to be just like him when he grew up.
Ophelia’s thoughts scattered. The walls and ceiling around her darkened and threatened to crush her. No. It’s happening. Make it stop. Make it stop.
“Something’s wrong.” The cold one reached for her.
She didn’t feel his hand, but she could feel him, searching her chaotic thoughts, trying to understand.
“She’s shaking. Why is she shaking?”
“What?” Her beloved shifted her head on his shoulder.
The roof’s falling down. Ophelia tried to fight it, tried with all her strength, but now even her mind abandoned her.
“She’s going hypoglycemic.” Her beloved shoved her back into the cold one’s arms. “Hold her.”
“Okay.” Fear rushed through the cold one, fear for her, his only friend. “But...she’s not supposed to get sick! Her kind doesn’t get sick.”
“Down here on the floor. She has juice in her purse. Don’t crush her.”
“Juice?” Confusion rushed into the cold one’s fear.
Ophelia heard herself scream during the scuffle with purse contents on the floor, but her voice was somewhere far away.
“Hold her wrists. Don’t squeeze. You’ll crush her.”
A cold bottle pressed to her lips and cold liquid dumped into her mouth. No. No. No shots. No shots.
“She’s fighting. Why?” The cold one’s agitation mounted.
“She can’t control herself.” Her beloved held her chin.
“You’re hurting her.”
No shots.
“She has to drink the juice, or she could die, you idiot. Now, hold her.”
“Die? She mustn’t die.”
Ophelia tried to jerk her head away but one of them held it in place. She tried to scream, but juice ran into her mouth and made her cough. The coldness splattered all over her face. The roof’s falling.
I won’t let the roof fall on you.
“That’s all of it,” said her beloved.
The plastic bottle rattled across the floor.
“I could turn her. She wouldn’t die or be a Sweet anymore.”
Her beloved grabbed her back into his arms. “No. You were turned against your will. Weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I could tell. Do you really want her to go through that?”
“No.”
“Would Joseph let you into his cov—”
“Family.” The cold one corrected him, this time very defensive.
Her beloved respected that. “Would Joseph let you into his family if you did it?”
“No.” The cold one’s tone diminished. “Truth is, I don’t really know.”
“She’ll be all right. She just needs to get her diabetes under control and keep...”
A distant, inhuman shriek silenced him.
Her beloved jumped up. “Go keep Martin busy while I get Ophelia home. I’ll come back and help. Go.”
A great storm of boots and men’s dress shoes rattled in Ophelia’s head along with her too-loud heartbeat. Her beloved ran with her. He shoved through a door, music struck her like an avalanche, her foot kicked into something.
“Oh, my dog. Oh, my dog. What happened?” Bianca always got hysterical when Ophelia got sick.
Her beloved responded. “Passed out while testing her blood sugar. Then, she went hypo. I already got her juice into her, but she needs your mom. We’ll need your boyfriend’s help getting her home without Martin finding out. Let’s go.”
“Jimmy.”
A coat was thrown over her and he ran out into the winter’s night with her.
“Oh, shit.” That was Jimmy. “Why isn’t she getting any better? Your mom’s a freakin’ doctor.”
A thought cleared Ophelia’s mind, a thought that her mother was going to be very angry about everyone cussing so much. Shut-up. I hate driving Bianca around.
“You’re going to help her get away from Martin? Aren’t you?” Bianca’s voice had kicked up a notch in shrillness.
“Yes.” He set her upright in the truck’s center seat. “Call your mom on the cell.”
No shots.
Bianca buckled her safety belt. “She’s not shaking so much anymore. I think the juice is working. Maybe she won’t need a shot this time.”
No shot!
“Go.” Her beloved slammed the door. His presence faded away from her and into background noise.
The truck’s engine roared and the tires screeched.
Bianca’s cell phone beeped, and she tapped it in little clicking sounds. “Mom? Ophelia passed out while testing her blood sugar and then she went hypo. We got the juice down her and we’re on our way home right now.” She paused to listen. “Okay, bye.” Her cell beeped again. “Mom’ll meet us at home.”
“Martin’s not taking the break-up well, I’m guessing.” Jimmy spoke as the truck wheels slid around a corner beneath them.
“Big shock, huh? The jackass can’t fathom someone actually dumping him, thinks he’s some sort of god or something. It’s all the stress he causes her that makes her sick like this, I just know it. I hate him. I hate him so much.” Bianca breathed through a few furious cries. “Got any idea who Ophelia’s new champion might be?”
“Not a clue, but he’s got balls of solid rock.”
Their words drifted away from Ophelia as she sank into a deeper sleep. This must all be a dream. That’s why they can’t hear me. Annoyance bugged her. I want to dream about...him...again. Come back. But he did not come back.
Somewhere in that sleep, her mother’s voice came in quick tones and her finger was stabbed. Ow. I hate it when people do that to me. It’s bad enough when I have to do it to myself. No shot.
Mom released breath. “No shot this time. You acted quickly enough, Bianca. Good job. You saved your sister’s life.”
“Actually, it was that boy, her secret admirer. He’s the one who found her passed out and got the juice into her fast. He knew exactly what to do.”
“He’s a hero and we need to thank him.” Mom sniffed.
A warm washcloth passed over Ophelia’s face and she rose to the surface, back into synch with her body.
“Her finger’s bruised again. Why does that keep happening?”
“I don’t know. Diabetics can bruise easily, but not like that.” Mom groaned. “Damn. Why isn’t she getting any better?”
My numbers must be really bad for Mom to break her own no-cussing rule. The clean scent and softness of Ophelia’s own bed curled up around her.
“Don’t cry, Mom.” Bianca wailed.
“I’m sorry. We’ll let her rest and see how she is in the morning.” Mom withdrew. “Meantime, I’m calling Grandma.”
Ophelia managed to move her lips. “Where is he?”
“I’m sure he’s not far away,” said Bianca. “We’ll find out who he is at school on Monday, if he doesn’t come over tomorrow, I promise.”
With her sister’s reassurance, Ophelia fell deeply asleep.
***
THIS ISN’T NORMAL FOR a human diabetic, Alva. Much less your kind. Mom’s voice drifted through the green leaves of a maple tree, the summertime streaming through the branches. Robert can’t remember this ever happening to him.
The Borean elves remember everything. That was Grandma’s voice. His condition must be worsening.
I’m dreaming. Ophelia murmured, leaning back against the tree trunk, knee bent as she perched. I always dream I’m in the trees. She fingered a leaf, studying the veins. We don’t have maple trees in Alaska.
Who?
Ophelia lifted her eyes to see a gold feathered barn owl lighting on the branch before her. Not ‘who.’ Where. Alaska is too cold for barn owls and maple trees.
Alaska is not too cold for you, or your sister or father. The owl cocked her head to the side. Or your grandmother.
You talk? Ophelia cocked her head too.
Only when you’re listening.