Solving the Vampire Murders

thirty

Torren lifted his gaze from the sand. Her honey brown eyes were wide, framed by thick dark lashes. Lips slightly parted. It was hard to concentrate on anything but her warm breath and the scent of her perfume.

"And now what?" Torren asked. His voice tentative. "You and me. What do we do now?"

Mazia pursed her lips. "This question has been on the top of my mind, too. Davey's death has set many things in motion, most of which I still do not understand."

Mazia was quiet for a long time. She had a stillness to her that Torren had written off as grace, but now he wasn't sure. It was like Mazia was as much a part of the landscape as the fine grains of sand or the overgrown grass.

The silence between them grew until Torren could almost feel it—settling like a lake breeze over the quiet stretch of beach.

"I had been with Davey since he was seven years, when his parents immigrated from Philippines. I lived as nanny until the parents could be told of his Gift. He was such a devious youth," Mazia let out a dry laugh and Torren could tell this story was becoming harder to tell, so he tried mirroring her. Tucking his knees in and letting out a laugh, too. She smiled back at him, eyes sad.

"He had a vision that scared him so badly he slept in my bed for week. He saw--" she paused, wiping the corner of her eye. "He saw his own death."

Torren's lips parted, shock hampering his breath. "His death? Is—is that common?"

"No, not common. But, he saw what he saw and I told him we would fight together. Told him we had time."

It was unbelievable to think that a seven year old boy, living in a strange country, learned he was magic only to find out that it would kill him. Torren closed his eyes, remembering the way smoke poured from Davey's open throat in the mirror.

"We couldn't stop his death. No. That was not possible. But we did come up with a way to protect the Gift of the High Seer. To keep it away from those want ill."

Mazia's eyes found his, and understanding took root. A seed blooming after laying dormant in the ground. A puzzle piece he hadn't know was missing snapping into place. "The Gift didn't choose me, did it?" Torren ventured.

"I chose you." Mazia reached out and unbuttoned the top of his jumpsuit, smooth fingers trailing along his chest until coming to rest on the medallion. "I pulled Davey's Gift from him and gave it to you. I know you are true of heart, and I know you will make the right things happen."

That strange beat inside his chest, it was Davey's Gift. It didn't belong there--didn't really belong to him. The magic had never synced properly because no bond had formed.

A slew of interrogatives bombarded his thoughts, but Torren pushed them all aside. The why, the how, the when. Choosing to focus on the warm press of her hand against his chest, her thumb slowly stroking the medallion.

She had chosen him.

Not someone stronger or smarter. Not someone from a wealthy family who had perfectly straight teeth and chiseled abs.

She had chosen him.

It felt good and he didn't care how selfish that might be. She thought he was worthy. Knowing that she believed in him, that she wanted to be bound to him, meant more than Torren wanted to admit.

"Before that smile breaks your face, I want you to know that this thing I have done, it has never been done before. I don't know what the Gift in this form will do to you." Her hand trailed down his chest before coming to rest on her knees. "Or to me."

Torren let her statement settle. He hadn't thought about what this might mean to him or to her. A delicate hand was placed on Torren's cheek, turning his face to hers.