OPEN MIC

I opened my eyes to a familiar place. Aware in some corner of my consciousness that I was dreaming, I recognized the green light of the forest. I could hear the waves crashing against the rocks somewhere nearby. And I knew that if I found the ocean, I'd be able to see the sun. I was trying to follow the sound, but then Jacob Black was there, tugging on my hand, pulling me back toward the blackest part of the forest.

"Jacob? What's wrong?" I asked. His face was frightened as he yanked with all his strength against my resistance; I didn't want to go into the dark.

"Run, Eva, you have to run!" he whispered, terrified.

"This way, Eva!" I recognized Mike's voice calling out of the gloomy heart of the trees, but I couldn't see him.

"Why?" I asked, still pulling against Jacob's grasp, desperate now to find the sun.

But Jacob let go of my hand and yelped, suddenly shaking, falling to the dim forest floor. He twitched on the ground as I watched in horror.

"Jacob!" I screamed. But he was gone. In his place was a large red-brown wolf with deep green eyes. The wolf faced away from me, pointing toward the shore, the hair on the back of his shoulders bristling, low growls issuing from between his exposed fangs.

"Eva, run!" Mike cried out again from behind me. But I didn't turn. I was watching a light coming toward me from the beach.

And then Edward stepped out from the trees, his skin faintly glowing, his eyes black and dangerous.

He held up one hand and beckoned me to come to him. The wolf growled at my feet.

I took a step forward, toward Edward. He smiled then, and his teeth were sharp, pointed.

"Trust me," he purred.

I took another step.

The wolf launched himself across the space between me and the vampire, fangs aiming for the jugular.

"No!" I screamed, wrenching upright out of my bed.

I threw my phone from my pillow, the sweat from the nightmare sticky on my skin, cooling on my forehead and making my sheets feel damp. I'd kicked them off in the worst of the dream. I exhaled slowly, taking in my surroundings and letting myself ground, slowing my heart. What could I see, what could smell…

Kain knocked on my door, worried by my scream, he sounded sleepy.

"Eva? You alright?"

"Uh, shit, yea Kain, I'm sorry, it was a nightmare."

"Oh, good, sorry boo, hope you sleep better."

I was no longer frightened, but frustrated, thinking about that dream again, what I could remember at least. Edward, pale and lovely, bloodthirsty eyes. I needed to think. I got up, knowing I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep.

"...What if I'm a bad guy?"

His words kept spinning around my head. He obviously wasn't human, I knew that at least. I pulled my laptop onto my desk, sitting criss-cross-applesauce in my desk chair. As it started I thought about what I wanted to do, what I wanted to search.

I started with googling "The Fair Folk." The first link caught my eye, specifically a phrase within it, that made my eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"...and may be depicted as an Inhumanly beautiful race."

Well that seemed a little on the nose.

I clicked and read through, this was mostly a list of TV tropes, the world of science fiction. But there were so many more types of…"fairies" than I'd thought, than even Jacob mentioned. I read about Celtic legends, Fairy Rings, how to communicate with The Fae, how to keep them away from your house, how to piss them off, and why you shouldn't.

As I researched, I tried to find one that best matched the description of Edwards family, not wanting Jacobs blood drinking theory to taint my bias.

I sighed at all the results for the show "True Blood", again it seemed a little too on the nose for me. But I was starting to feel a little queasy. Beautiful, sunlight avoidant creatures that seduce humans in order to drink their blood. Incubi and Succubi, baobhan sith, I finally decided to try to search for vampires and fairies.

There was an entire website on how The Fae and vampires were so similar, how the legends intertwined with each other all over the world.

I shut my laptop then, rubbing my face in exasperated frustration.

I thought back on his other odd behaviors, the way he looked up when he was mentioned like he'd been called to. His glances over my shoulders as he filled in what my friends seemed to be feeling. Ok, so maybe, psychic? No, Telepathic? I kind of felt that had some more scientific backing, and I opened my laptop again to explore that avenue. He didn't seem to speak into peoples minds, but I couldn't be sure. He'd known my preferred name on the first day he spoke to me as well. At the time I had brushed it off, thinking someone must have mentioned it to him. But the likelihood of that was actually low. His only friends were his siblings, and he hadn't even been in school for days. Eva. Not Evangeline, not Evangeline, Eva. I also remembered him mentioning he couldn't read me very well, how surprised I'd been, and the consideration that maybe he'd meant he couldn't read my mind made my eyebrows raise.

I marked that down as another hypothesis and leaned back into my chair.

Okay. So. What was I sure of? I thought back on what had happened during the car accident. I shook off the annoyance at him trying to gaslight me and focused on what I had seen.

Speed, he made it across the entire parking lot in less than a second, without anyone noticing him. Strength, He'd lifted that van up with one arm. Resilience, I remembered the dent his shoulders made from the dispersed energy of the impact.

I had to refocus for a moment, it was all starting to sink in, become real. His skin was obscenely cold, and felt close to stone under my fingers. The color shifting in his eyes and his mood swings. And he- his whole family, were nearly flawless. So beautiful it was eerie.

Like a lure, from a predator to its prey. A way to bring them closer.

My blood felt like ice in my veins as I held my head in my hands, resting my elbows on my knees, trying to process this information. I quickly snapped open my laptop again and frantically googled missing persons cases in the area in the last two years. Yet, while there were several, it was not a suspicious amount. In fact, I doubted nearly entirely that what was there could...feed, seven vampires. At least that was my hypothesis. I grabbed the date from when edward had returned, the day he first introduced himself, the day his eyes were the lightest gold I had seen.

No one had gone missing-even well outside the county- close to that timeframe.

I sat back in my chair again, staring at the screen. Maybe I was just losing my mind. Jacob had said it was all superstitious crap, too. Could he be some other type of Fae? One that didn't drink blood?

These questions spun around my head like flies, and I knew I wouldn't get answers so easily. In my frustration, I grabbed my guitar, I needed something to help me calm down, and playing would be distracting enough. I played quietly for Kains sake, a song I knew well, Smoke Signals, Phoebe Bridgers. As I strummed the soft song, I closed my eyes and focused on the lyrics, softly singing as I processed everything I'd learned in six measly hours. I remembered something suddenly, perking. I carefully put down my guitar and moved to my phone, scrolling through my photos until I landed on the one I was looking for. I tapped on it and zoomed in, getting the date and address of the Open Mic flyer. I took a deep breath and committed to it. I needed a release, and maybe it would help me clear my head.

Decided, I yawned, tired enough to go to bed again. I slowly crawled back into my bed to curl around my body pillow, squishing it to me, and hoping I didn't dream about monsters again.

I slept in the next day, shocked to see that it had remained sunny, and a little warm. Kain was going to be out again today I knew, so I was trying to come up with something to do. I padded out to the livingroom in my pajamas and stopped in surprise, Kain was at the kitchen table on his phone, several Thriftway bags taking up the space in front of him.

"Kain? I thought you were going out today…"

He perked and gave me a massive grin, crossing his feet all proud of himself.

"Well, since you're going to that Halloween party without your kind and adoring big brother, I thought we should have our own Halloween party, hang out. Bad Horror movies on Netflix, way too much candy,...a little green stuff..?" He held up a package of pre-rolled joints from a dispensary downtown. The Thriftway bags held large sacs of mixed candies. I was shocked stiff for a moment, then laughed, and nodded. Guess that was my Sunday planned.

We put the living room together with blankets and pillows. I was honestly touched by Kains idea, both of us finding our comfy spot and lighting one to pass between us. The used ashtray on the table at the ready. We put on Netflix to search for our first bad gore porn flick, making a few passes as we did. I was comfortably buzzed soon enough, my whole body feeling heavy and warm, eyelids drooping a little. We laughed and threw candy wrappers and popcorn at the screen of the TV when the movies got stupid, and we talked here and there about life, I didn't smoke often, but every once in a while it was an enjoyable experience. I avoided any vampire movies, cringing every time I was reminded about the night before.

We took a pause closer to evening, both of us stretching and shaking things out, cleaning up a little and taking a break before the next one. We had just finished Paranormal Activity 2, and Kain was coming back with fresh sodas for both of us.

"You know, I still think this place is haunted. Last week, I started hearing footsteps above us at night, like someones pacing! That's the roof! Tenants don't even have access to the roof?" He really believed it too, I could tell. I laughed at him, having another piece of candy and grabbing my soda from him.

He rolled his eyes. "I was hoping you would like, "sense" something or whatever." He huffed, sipping his own. I looked at him, confused.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Well, the whole "born with a veil" thing!" He blinked at me as though to say "duh". I was completely lost.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I laughed at him, picking up the Netflix remote again to start clicking through the movies again.

"Didn't Mom ever tell you that you were born with a veil?" Kain looked surprised, relaxing back into the couch.

"No, I have no idea what you mean."

"When you were born, you were still in the like, sac thing. They say it looks like a wedding veil. So was mom, and Nana, it's like, a generational thing. I missed out cause I'm a guy I guess." He looked pouty about that, but I was still processing.

"Uh, gross? Also you were like, ten pounds or something." He waved me off. "What does that have to do with literally anything?"

"People born with a veil are supposed to be super "sensitive", like to ghosts and other stuff. Like mediums are usually born with a Veil." I stared at him for a moment and then started laughing pretty hard. He sounded ridiculous.

"Sorry Kain, I haven't "sensed" any ghosts in the apartment. I don't see dead people either." I snickered, finally putting on Paranormal Activity 3.

As we watched though, I realized he's not crazy, at least no more crazy than I was googling about vampires and fairies in the middle of the night. Thinking about the concept of anything supernatural being real, I shuddered, frowning deeply. The images on screen didn't help, hearing them discuss the Demon possessing the home.

I had always been a skeptic, an atheist. I preferred things that could be provable, tangible. But Edward was...incredibly tangible, and entirely impossible. Could that mean...it was all real? I shook my head at the concept. I finished out the night with Kain, trying to shake off the thoughts about monsters and vampires and ghosts, reminding myself it was just one hypothesis, not proven. I needed to ready myself for the next week, as I went to bed that night I put on some soft piano music to sleep to, hoping it would distract me and allow me to sleep well.

The next week started well, It was sunny again, I was shocked, I'd never seen the nice weather last like this. But I wasn't going to complain. However Edward wasn't in class, at all. I shrugged it off at first, relaxing into Jess and Angela's routine, but when it was still sunny on Wednesday, and there was still no Edward, I was getting worried. I guess he and his brother would be trying to soak up every inch of sun they could as well.

That night, when I got home from class I headed to my room to drop my bags off. I picked up my guitar and tugged a heavy flannel shirt on over my sweater, grabbing my purse and shoving my phone and wallet into it. I called into Kains room that I was going to be out for the night, he called back an 'O.K." and then I was out the door. I ordered an Uber to the Art Collective/Dive bar combo, kinda snickering about how hipster that was, good old Washington. I held up my ID to the bouncer and got waved in, immediately comforted by the sound of slam poetry and the smell of cheap cigarettes, old carpet and patchouli. It was an incredibly familiar vibe, every Open Mic I'd ever been to had felt nearly identical. After the poet was a small punk group, with some bizarre, nonsensical name I couldn't quite catch, they sounded pretty much the same as every small time punk group, throaty and high, harsh guitar riffs and frantic drumming. Screeching about their lives. I didn't mind punk though, it was far better than country. I walked up to a guy with a clipboard to see if he was the one with the signup sheets.

He looked stoned out of his mind, but happy, his dark hair mostly concealed by his beanie as he took down my name and let me put my acoustic behind the side stage, borrowing one of the communal electric guitars, sitting down to make sure it was in tune, and was still in good enough condition to play. It seemed just fine as I tested a few strums. I had to hunt down the right cables for the Amp, thankfully already set up on stage so I wouldn't have to drag one up there. Most people that did these said they felt butterflies before they made their way upstairs, I never did. I never felt more hidden than behind a microphone, a guitar, and my voice. Places like this, with so many drifting acts, no one remembered you until you became a regular. Especially, when you used the name 'Evangeline'. It was about a half hour before it was my go, but soon enough-

"Up next, we got another musical act, Evangeline Irving, on guitar. She'll be borrowing our bassist, Jack St. Louis and our drummer, Hayden Cannon, for a cover performance, give it up!"

I was already on stage getting plugged in. I looked back at the bassist and drummer, handing them the printouts I'd made, but I always chose well known songs for these. "Uh, "Time is Running Out", MUSE." They nodded in recognition and got themselves ready too. When I got the ok from the drunk guy running the sound and the drummer, he banged out a quick 1-2-1-2-3- And started the slow beat along with the bassist, grinding out the low, odd melody that sat under the song. I couldn't see anyone in the crowd, couldn't recognise anyone, the place was cloudy and backlit by neon bar signs and candle light. It was perfect.

"I think I'm drowning, asphyxiating,

I wanna break the spell, that you've created-"

My voice in my throat felt good, and the beat of the drum and the thrum of the bass through my feet had me in the zone, getting my fingers in the right place to start my coming chords.

"You're something beautiful, a contradiction,

I wanna play the game- I want the friction.

And you, will be, the death, of me.

Yeah, you, will be, the death of me.

Bury it, I won't let you bury it,

I won't let you smother it,

I won't let you murder it-

And our time is running out!"

The release was there in the strength of the chorus, my fingers were tearing apart the frets, my voice was carried to the back of the venue, and his face was in my head. Ethereal and impossible. My chest ached with my breath control, my fingers burned through the calluses on my fingers.

"I wanted freedom, found I'm restricted,

I wanna give you up, but I'm addicted,

Now that you know I'm trapped

Sense of elation

You'll never dream of breaking this fixation

You will squeeze the life out of me-"

The bar was enjoying the performance, several patrons singing along or bobbing their heads, very few people were actually looking at me. My hair was falling into my face as my body followed my voice, helping the power behind it. I was free. Everything was the beat, the rhythm and the chords I was playing.

"Yeah you, will suck, the life out of me-

Bury it, I won't let you bury it,

I won't let you smother it,

I won't let you murder it!"

It was just then, through strands of my hair, through the faded and foggy faces of the rest of the patrons, through the smoky haze of the air between us.

He sat at the bar, golden eyes locked on me. And when we made eye contact, he flashed me a crooked grin.

My stomach dropped through my feet.