'sacrifice'
In the barest glimmering of consciousness that morning, Eric thought he was home in California, nestled up comfortably with his girlfriend of two years. A smile spread across his face, and his eyes fluttered open. That was when he saw Meilin in his arms, and the events of the past week came crashing down on him.
Nope, still not a dream. Though every time I wake up it becomes just a little more bizarre and a little harder to believe. And yet here she is, in bed with me. Beautiful, mysterious, powerful, exotic… and this while still in her teens. How can she be only sixteen? It just doesn't seem right. There's more to her, I'm sure of it. She's been through something hard, something that made her as strong as she is.
Meilin wasn't used to waking up with a pair of blue eyes directly over her face, scrutinizing her. But that was what happened, and she stiffened when she realized their position.
"I – I'm sorry," she stuttered. "Did I fall asleep in your arms?"
"I don't really remember," he answered softly, his eyes never leaving hers. "It's okay, it doesn't bother me. You don't always have to be the warrior, you know. The occasional hug is perfectly acceptable."
Was it her imagination, or was his face drawing a little closer to hers?
"B-but, last night, you said I should stand alone…"
"I said you were allowed to stand alone," he corrected her. "Doesn't mean you can't be with someone if you want."
For the first time, Meilin allowed her thoughts to rewind past Syaoran's startling appearance, and the fight. It was unbelievable, but after so much emotional upheaval she'd almost forgotten about it.
"You kissed me last night."
"That's right. What, did you not like it?"
Meilin felt at a loss, here in his arms with his keen blue eyes so close.
"Um, I – I don't know…"
His hand brushed over her cheek, smoothing some of her tangled hair back from her face. The tiny spark of desire in her eyes, and the slight quiver at his touch, did not escape his notice.
"We could try it again. See what you think."
She didn't answer, just stared frozenly into his eyes. But he understood now. This was no rejection, no denial. She was simply too scared to commit; she was inexperienced. Eric forgot all about her age, forgot about her runaway status, forgot about everything as he leaned in to seek her lips. It didn't matter anymore. He only knew that he wanted to be with her, badly. He would make her experienced.
It was the same feeling again, as he inserted his tongue between her lips and pressed downward. Scary but a good kind of scary, a heady rush of being desired and wanted.
Eric cupped his hand around the back of her neck, supporting her as he drew back and then renewed the pressure. She offered no resistance, but she wasn't participating either. Eric tried to demonstrate by sucking gently on her tongue, drawing it into his mouth. He could feel her surprise, but she seemed to get the hint and pressed upward, meeting him in the kiss. Pleased, he drew back after a few seconds and smiled down at her. Her eyes were closed and she was trembling slightly, just like the night before. Confident that there would be no interruptions this time, he grinned and leaned in again, this time to nibble the lobe of her ear.
Her sharp intake of breath was clearly audible, and he paused.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm kissing your ear."
"It -" Meilin tried to remember the word. "- tickles."
"Do you want me to stop?"
After a microsecond of hesitation, she shook her head, and he continued. After he was done teasing her ear with his tongue, he began to trace a line of light kisses down her jaw. This she definitely seemed to like, and hummed with pleasure. But when he moved below the jawline to her neck, she tensed again.
"Should I stop?"
"N-no. It's okay. I like it."
"Good."
Slowly, maddeningly slowly, he completed the path down her neck and reached her collarbone. There was that little hollow that always seemed to drive females wild, and she was no exception. When he closed his lips over her skin and began to suck, she whimpered aloud and shifted beneath him, pushing upward with her body. This action stimulated a matching response in his own body, and he pulled away to see that he'd made a slight mark. Oops, but no time to worry about that now. She was looking up at him, a mixture of uncertainty and longing in her eyes. Did she want more?
Gently, his hands roved down her back and to her waist, and she stiffened. He kissed her again and she relaxed, but when he started to push the material of her T-shirt up, she went rigid in his arms.
"What?" he inquired worriedly. After a moment she shook her head.
"No, please, it feels nice. Continue." But she clenched her teeth and shrunk back from him as his hand moved again, and he could see a little moisture shimmering in her dark eyes.
"Oh," he groaned and pulled back in defeat. "No. No, we can't do this."
Right away he saw the relief flash through her eyes before they turned to denial. "No, it's all right. I promise you. I'm ready."
"No," he answered in a slightly strained voice, "you're not. I can tell. There's something holding you back."
"But I am -"
"You're not," he declared firmly. "Not yet, anyway. Trust me, I've done this before."
Meilin bit her lip and sank back into the pillows with a sympathetic expression.
"Oh, Eric, I -"
"No, no. It's okay. I'll live. I just – need to take a cold shower. If you'll excuse me." He bit back a wail of frustration as he managed a smile and sat up. His body was trembling a little with the abrupt shift in activity, and he had to take a minute to collect himself, swinging his legs out over the edge of the bed and facing away.
*****
"Syaoran?" Hesitantly Sakura tugged at his shirt, then said his name again, louder. "Syaoran?"
"Get your goddamn hands off her!" he shouted, sitting upright with a jerk and nearly banging their heads together. She squealed and jumped backwards, tripping and tumbling to the floor. Syaoran was breathing heavily, glaring into empty space, but as he became aware of his surroundings he shot her a surprised glance.
"Sakura? What are you doing on the floor?"
"Recovering from a heart attack, now," she answered dryly, and began to gather the books she'd been carrying in her arms. "What were you dreaming about?"
"Huh? Oh, it was a, um, nightmare. About someone attacking Meilin." His gaze skittered away from hers and he reached to rake his scruffy bangs out of his face. Not exactly about someone attacking Meilin, of course, but something far, far worse. It had been so real too. "Why am I in the tea room?"
It was true, he'd been sprawled across the couch when Sakura found him that morning.
"I would imagine that it's because you wouldn't come upstairs last night to sleep. You were still sitting here, fuming, when I went to go to bed at one."
"Oh." Now he did remember, and he swung his legs out toward the room so he could slump against the back of the couch.
"Who were you talking to on the phone last night?"
"Never mind that. What's all this?"
"Hmm? Oh, this. Well, Kero-chan thought maybe he recognized this bird symbol, and we spent a lot of last night rooting through your mother's library." She held up the wrinkled band of cloth, and after a moment he opened up his hand. She dropped it into his palm. "Turns out, it wasn't a bird at all." She leafed through the pages of the first book and showed him the same symbol, alongside a few paragraphs of text. "It was an abstract dragon. The symbol of an old cult, Everlasting Dragon, as best I can translate. Anyway, this book doesn't say anything about them, except that they are famously cunning warriors and best left alone. Nothing about what they do."
He said nothing at all as she babbled to fill him in, but she thought she could see a fierce interest in his near-hidden eyes.
"But, this book mentions them too, and it adds something. Get this. Apparently the name comes from the fact that its members could live as long as they chose, their bodies unchanged. It's like they have access to the fountain of youth or something. 'By the light of the full moon they fight forever,'" she read from the text. "Unfortunately, the author doesn't seem to have any idea on just how they manage to do this. Kero-chan and your mother are still going through books to see if they can find any more information."
Still no verbal response, and she craned her neck to get a better look at his eyes. "Syaoran?"
He dropped his gaze to the scarlet band and closed his hand, crushing it in his fist. Then he pushed off the couch and marched out of the room.
*****
It was awkwardly quiet for the first few moments, and finally the silence was broken by a tiny sob.
"Hey, don't cry. It's all right. I'm not angry." Hastily he reached to brush away her tears, and she shook her head.
"I'm s-sorry. D-didn't mean to do this." She scooted away from him to sit up, and hugged her knees to her chest. "I'm c-crying so much. What you must think of me…"
"I don't think anything, except that you obviously have a lot of hurt buried inside of you that needs to come out. Tell me what's wrong."
His gentle fingertips were caressing her face now, wiping away her hot tears. There was no hint of anger or frustration in his eyes, just concern and sympathy. Why did they have to be so impossibly blue? The familiar heartache stirred in her chest and she shuddered.
"Meilin, please. Talk."
"I'm sc-scared."
"Of me?" She gave a miserable nod. "For what? What did I do?"
"You were k-kind to m-me," she cried. "I tried this b-before."
That was all, and in vain he waited for her to elaborate. Only her pitiful sniffles broke the quiet of the room.
Once before, someone was kind to me. Once before, I thought someone had come to relieve the pain and save me. But it wasn't real; it wasn't true. He turned away and left me. I can't let it happen again. I'm not strong enough for it to happen again. What was I thinking?
Perplexed and uncertain, Eric tried to reach for her hands again, but she jerked back out of his reach. It was so unexpected and so harsh, he couldn't say anything at first.
"Sorry," he offered, though he wasn't really sure what he was apologizing for.
"Please," she whispered. "Please, just don't. Just – don't."
It was as if someone had upended a bucket of icy water over him, and involuntarily he shivered.
"Okay," he finally managed. "I won't."
There didn't seem to be anything else to say, and he stood up to back into the bathroom. Meilin watched him go, her vision painfully blurred, and knew that something had gone terribly wrong. He was hurt, and somehow it was her fault.
After what seemed an inordinate amount of time the shower finally turned off, and he emerged with pink and glowing skin. Tentatively she tried to make eye contact, wanting to say she was sorry, but he only looked away. This time he really must be angry, after what she'd done. She should explain. But how could she? How could she possibly put the words to her history with Syaoran?
He was pulling on his khakis now. The tension in the room was insufferably thick, and for once it was Meilin who couldn't stand the silence any longer.
"Interesting choice," she said lamely, desperate to say something neutral. Anything was better than this.
"What?" He paused and threw a puzzled glance her way. She squirmed and dropped her gaze. It was the first time he'd ever had his back turned to her without his shirt on, and she hadn't realized he had one.
"Your tattoo. It's an interesting choice. Why did you choose that character?"
Now he was really lost, and shook his head. "I don't have a tattoo."
Now it was her turn to look confused, and she raised her eyes again.
"Yes you do. I just saw it."
He forced a chuckle. "Hey, Meilin, I've only owned this body my whole life. I think I'd know if I'd gotten a tattoo on it."
His words were genuine, and Meilin felt something like a premonition shoot through her. It must have been close to that feeling Syaoran used to describe when he sensed something magical was about to happen. Gingerly she slid off the bed and crossed the room. Eric flinched a little as she placed her hand on his arm, but all she did was lead him to the bathroom doorway and turn him around. Now thoroughly baffled, Eric looked obediently over his shoulder at the mirror and saw his jaw drop.
"Well, I'll be damned. I – I do have a tattoo." There didn't seem to be any other way around it. It was there, plain as day and right between his shoulder blades. Right where he wouldn't ever notice it unless someone was there to point it out. He couldn't exactly see what it was, but it looked like some kind of Chinese writing. "How the hell – this wasn't here before! I'm sure of it, I never had a tattoo back at home…" His voice trailed off as he stared at her wide eyes. "Holy Christ, the party. It was just the second night I was here, I was looking for a crowd to drown my sorrows with and I completely passed out. I still had all my money and everything when I woke up; I thought I was fine. They gave me a tattoo? That's so unreal. Why?"
Completely nonplussed, he reached to touch it, but he couldn't quite reach. It looked pretty much like a real tattoo, though. He'd seen enough on his friends back home to know. Meilin was still staring at him in shock, something that looked like comprehension dawning in her eyes.
"What? Do you know what it means?"
A slow nod. "Yes." A deep breath. "It means offering – or sacrifice."
The room was silent for a minute, while she waited for the words to sink in. Eric repeated them stiffly.
"Offering? Sacrifice?"
"Yes." She held his stare for another moment, then brushed past him to enter the bathroom. Too dumbfounded to say anything, he watched her dig through his bathroom kit and pull out his razor.
"What -"
"Hold still." Without preamble she took one of his hands and nicked his fingertip with the blade.
"Hey, ouch!"
"Shh." She held it up even higher, right between their faces, and gave a slight squeeze. As it had for his entire life, his blood welled up in a fat drop on his skin. But unlike previous incidents in his life, this drop of blood was glowing.
Not shining with a bright white light or anything, but definitely glowing a sharp and brilliant red. It reminded Eric of the flashy ruby on his mother's favorite necklace, how it caught the light and reflected it back at them. Entranced, he leaned in closer to inspect it and could see the million tiny lights dancing in his blood. It was sparkling.
"Wow…" he breathed.
Eric Masters, child of Generation X and product of the most modern of lifestyles in California, was so amazed that his thoughts didn't go much beyond dumbstruck awe. But Meilin's did.
"No," she moaned. "Oh, no, no, no, no!" She turned away and buried her face in her hands. Startled, Eric automatically stuck his finger in his mouth to suck on it. He got a shiver when he realized that not only did his blood look different, it tasted different as well. Not pleasant, exactly, but… different.
"What? What does it mean? What's going on?"
She was shaking her head, muttering to herself in muffled Chinese.
"Meilin?"
"No!" She whirled around to face him, eyes dilated with something that looked like panic. "Don't you get it? Isn't it obvious? Those things he said… oh, I should have paid more attention. I should have realized there was something more to it."
"English, Meilin, please. More to what?"
"A while," she repeated tonelessly. "Nobody's beat him for 'a while'. He wasn't kidding around. I get it now. It took me long enough, but I get it. He, they, all of them have been living for a long time. Decades, probably."
"Say what?"
"That's why they kept coming back in spite of the hassle. They were never after your money, Eric, they probably don't even know your name. They were after you! Your blood… I guess the mark on your back changed you. Made you into something more. That's why Jing Kun was so angry when his friend pulled out a knife. All combat has been hand to hand, they don't want any of your blood spilled."
Everything was falling into place; the picture was becoming horrifyingly clear.
"They need you back, for whatever magic ritual they do. It's how they keep living." Helplessly she raised her hands, then dropped them. Eric's expression was a mixture of stunned disbelief and fascination. "They want to feed off of you."
There was nothing but sincerity in her posture and tone, nothing to hint that she was joking around or spinning him a story. Eric opened his mouth to refute the ridiculous claim. Magic? Get real, Meilin. Nobody believes in that stuff anymore.
And then he shut it again with a snap. The lingering aftertaste of his changed blood would not be ignored. Again, he saw that stranger last night brandishing his sword. How it materialized in his hand in the blink of an eye. Meilin knew what she was talking about.
And he believed her. His creepy feeling that these men wanted to devour him had been true after all. Somehow, he had had the bad luck to stumble onto this gang – cult, more like – and become victim to their needs. They had marked him and they wanted to sacrifice him, to sustain them for longer life. They wanted to take his life to feed their own.
Everything he knew had just been turned upside down in the matter of a minute, and Eric struggled to form words, to define the churning shock within.
"That's so…" he managed to gasp out. "So… communist."
That eerie look of panic was still in her eyes. She hadn't moved, staring frozenly at him as he came to terms.
"Meilin? You – you know about this, don't you?" She spoke neither to confirm nor deny. "You've seen stuff like this before, haven't you? That guy last night with the sword… you've been around magic before."
Again no response, but he knew he was guessing right.
"Who are you, Meilin? Where do you come from? Are you – do you use magic?"
For just the briefest of moments after he uttered his question, he thought he saw a blazing hatred in her eyes. Then it was gone, quite possibly his imagination, and her face crumpled.
"No, I – I forgot to mention that last night. I can't bake cakes… and I can't use magic. I was born wrong, not like him. He's the one that knows things – he knew!" Abruptly her head jerked up, and Eric almost jumped at the sudden sharp tone.
"He knew, he's known all along. That's how he found us, both times… he can sense them. Hell, he can probably sense you! He knew and he was trying to tell me last night and I wouldn't listen. I am so stupid!"
Finally Eric knew what to say.
"No you're not," he said.
She didn't seem to have heard him. She was gripping her head now, snarling her thick black hair between her fingers and looking anguished.
"I don't know what I'm doing! Never did… stupid… useless… pathetic little girl… brat… get – get out of my sight!"
For a second he thought she was screaming at him, but the hollow look in her eyes convinced him otherwise. She was staring beyond him, at some place or some time that only she could see.
"Meilin? Meilin, snap out of it, please! You're really starting to scare me, Meilin." Eric didn't know how much more of this he could take. The revelation from the night before, making out in bed, the abrupt and harsh rejection, a startling realization that he was caught up in something magical, and now this. How many more twists were in store for them?
"Stupid useless girl!" she shouted again, and unexpectedly began banging her forehead against the wall. "Pathetic (bang) worthless (bang) without him (bang) nothing -"
"Stop it!" He had to forcibly drag her away from the wall, and wondered if she was going to fight him. She didn't. Instead she choked out a single, lonely-sounding sob and sank to her knees, where she trembled in his arms.
"I'm sorry," she wheezed.
"Don't be. Just tell me what happened. Who told you those things?"
"For the most part," she answered listlessly, "everyone." She took a shuddering breath, and Eric held his. This was it, he was sure. She was finally going to tell him.
"My family is so rich," she began. "So rich in things, so rich in tradition, so rich in power. Always, the Lis have possessed magic. Always they have been great sorcerers, great warriors and priestesses. Always the best.
I was four years old when things started to go wrong. I didn't understand. I was so little, I couldn't know what was going on around me."
She pressed the heel of her palm into her forehead, as if suddenly trying to ward off a headache.
"I don't really remember – or I don't want to. A low tea table, with two boxes. One red, one green. Darkness. A gloomy room. My grandfather told me to pick the right one. I didn't understand. 'How do I know?' I asked. 'Which do you want?'
'You will know' is all he would say. I didn't understand, so I just picked green. He looked so surprised. Not pleased. I got scared, I told him I changed my mind. Red was the right one after all. He didn't listen. He got up and opened the door, I could hear him telling my parents. I didn't understand the words he used, but I could see my mother's face and I knew I was in trouble. I had done something wrong, but I didn't know what."
Her breath was starting to come faster again, and Eric worried that she was hyperventilating.
"I – I pleaded to know what I had done wrong, I was s-so scared. But th-they wouldn't talk to me. I was sent to m-my room with no dinner and I cr-cried all that night. And the next day they m-made me do it again. I was so frustrated! I d-didn't know what they wanted and I only wanted t-to please them and be a g-good daughter. But I picked wrong again and Grandfather said there were no more chances. I had failed.
They were so angry at me, and I d-didn't even know why. My father beat me that n-night. I cried and tried to c-cover my face with my hands, but he just kept hitting me and hitting me and…"
She ran out of breath and paused to inhale. Eric could hardly bear to move, simultaneously fascinated and horrified. He hadn't realized someone could be so cruel.
"Most of my elders stopped paying attention to me after that day. I cried and cried, knowing that I had done something terrible but unable to understand what. My mother could not lay eyes on me without screaming in anger. I was being punished… for my sin. I was an abomination to my family: a Li born with no magic."
Once more the room went quiet as Meilin fought to gain control over herself. Never had she told the story to anyone; not even Syaoran knew the repercussions of her failed magical test. Once more she felt the rush of self-loathing consume her, and she struggled to keep from screaming her pain out loud. Eric's arms were still around her, and she buried her face in her hands.
Two deep breaths later, she raked her hair back from her face and straightened to face him.
"Eric."
"Yes?"
"You have to leave."
*****
Sakura gave him an hour, then went looking. After finally spotting him up on the roof, she clambered up to join him. The daytime view of downtown wasn't nearly as spectacular as the night, but it was still an impressive panorama. For a long while neither spoke, gazing at the expanse below them.
"It's getting near noon," she finally said.
He grunted.
"I'm sure they're up and about by now. You said you could sense them, feel their power. Are you ready to go look?"
After a moment of hesitation, he shook his head. She blew her bangs out of her eyes in exasperation.
"Okay, enough. I can't figure you out, Syaoran, I really can't. You've been going crazy to find Meilin all week and now that we've got a potential lead, you're not going? This group that she's fighting is dangerous, and she might not even know it. She probably has no idea what she's up against!"
"Doesn't matter," he said stiffly.
"It doesn't matter?" she repeated carefully.
"No. None of it matters. Your brother was right; I just couldn't bring myself to face it. She doesn't want my help."
He lay back against the tiles with a mournful sigh, as Sakura tapped her ear and wondered if she'd just heard correctly.
"What did you say?"
"I'm such an idiot," he continued, not paying any attention to her. "I'm the one that rushed home, so convinced that she was in trouble. Determined that she was helpless and that she needed me. I'm as bad as her parents. To me she's still a child, in need of protection and guidance. I was deluding myself, creating some fantasy picture in my head."
He turned his head slightly to the side to make eye contact with Sakura.
"Don't you see? That way I could go and save her. That would make things even; that would make it all right that I broke off the engagement. Everything would be okay."
Sakura swallowed, hating the self-despising look in his eyes. She wasn't much good at this sort of thing, and wished Tomoyo were there.
"That doesn't make you a bad person," she tried. "It just means you care."
He snorted. "Does it? Funny how I never cared before. She thought I didn't know, but I wasn't stupid. The whole clan knew how her parents treated her. I know what they put her through when she was younger; I knew what was waiting for her when she was recalled from Japan. But I was so obsessed with the Clow Cards, I didn't care. And then when I left to move back to Tomoeda, I was leaving her behind. Left her with them, and a council of elders that didn't even acknowledge her existence. All I could think about was you. I've been fooling myself this whole time, thinking that I was better than the rest of them. Telling myelf that I cared. Maybe if I had given two seconds to consider her welfare, we wouldn't be here today!"
Angrily he banged his head against the tiles once, then resumed glaring at the cloud formations above.
"She doesn't want anything to do with me anymore. It's over."
Sakura was taken aback by the finality of his tone.
"Surely you don't mean that, Syaoran. We're bound to see her again."
"No. You didn't see the way she looked at me last night. She hit me, and she turned around and ran from me. She's made her feelings clear. I don't have any more chances."
It was obvious even to her how painful those words were for him to say, and how he had to force them between his lips. No matter how much he was trying to convince himself otherwise, he still agonized for her. Syaoran and Meilin had spent too much of their lives together, shared too much for it to just be over.
Sakura uttered an impatient noise and stood up.
"You can lie here and wallow in self-pity all you like. Me, I'm still worried about her. She's my friend, and I'm not going to let her do this alone. Call me if you change your mind."
She reached the edge of the roof and swung gracefully over to grasp the rainpipe. Li heard her departure, and actually managed to raise his head. But by the time he sat up, she was already out of sight. He emitted another sigh, and lay back against the tiles. The hot sun beat down on him, and he closed his eyes.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters