“Where are we going?” Giselle spoke more to herself than to me. I smiled at her impatience; she had whined those same words a dozen times along the way.
“You’ll see.” I spoke anxiously. My focus was on the road, the familiar path I had avoided for so long. “Soon,” I finished - a response to her boot-clad feet tapping a mindless cadence on the floorboards.
“Not soon enough.” Giselle grumbled at me, drawing her red lips into a pout. She curled her legs close, the leather upholstery squeaking against her movement, and rested a perfectly sculptured chin on her knees. I couldn’t resist the temptation to turn at stare – at her exceptional features, her beautiful face.
She leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes, but I could see them just the same. A picture of the crystal blue was etched into my mind; Giselle’s irises were a remarkable icy-blue, flecked through with a deep cerulean. A fan of thick lashes lined her eyes, so long they seemed to rest on her cheekbones when closed.
Her heart-shaped face, smooth and soft as the rest of her fragile human body, was framed with a mane of corn silk. It was long and wild and smelled of vanilla. I knew if I touched it it would be fine and sleek. She wore a pendant around her neck, a piece passed to her after her mother’s death. The sparkling heart resting against the hollow of her throat glistened, inviting me to the pulsing vein that ran beneath her skin.
The thought of warm blood flowing from her neck quickly grounded me. I looked away, back to the road. I despised the moments of weakness I had, all be them sparse. Any frailty was frustrating. I was designed to be indestructible, yet here a mortal – a little girl at that– could bring me to my knees. The few vicious thought I had caused ripples of doubt through my otherwise indestructable body.
Was I making a mistake caring for a human this way, trying so hard? It was certainly against nature, against any and all instincts I had. Would I be strong enough to continue resisting her floral, vanilla scent?
I knew I had to be. I could not hurt her. If for nothing else, then for my own selfishness. I wanted Her, this human, near me. I had invited her into my world, and it was my responsibility to keep her safe from the dangers that entailed.
Resolve washed through me and I relaxed. The steering wheel squeaked in relief as my grip loosened.
Rain began to fall and the sounds of the passing city faded with the growing distance. Buildings turned to trees, and cement morphed to the lush grass of small-town California. Soon we would be turning off the interstate, heading towards the green hills of Cloverdale, into my hidden past. Cloverdale was full of memories and secrets I had tucked securely into the deepest, darkest corner of my mind. Secrets I was planning to reveal to my beautiful mortal companion.
My hometown was nestled behind its larger sister city, and was as quiet as it was beautiful. A sparse two hundred residents called Cloverdale home, the town housing only a gas station, supermarket, and a small high school. For all other needs it was a thirty-mile trip to Brooks.
The change in scenery did not go unnoticed on Giselle. “Lilly, really.” She started exasperated, her head cocked to the side, eyes boring into me. “First you kidnap me at five o’ clock in the morning and now you won’t even tell me where we are going?”
I flashed a toothy grin and replied simply, “Nope.” The flare in her eyes spurred me on. “Don’t you trust me?” I attempted a look of innocence, but the smirk on Giselle’s face told me I was failing. Holding a hand up to surrender, I gave in.
“You have expressed a certain amount of interest in my past, of how I . . . came to be. I simply found this an appropriate and available time to tell you my story.” Giselle’s eyes widened in surprise, only to quickly narrow in confusion. I answered her question before she had a chance to speak. “I am taking you to my past, Giselle. Cloverdale,” I gestured to the passing greenery, “was my home. Once a much different place, of course, but my home all the same.”
A glow of interest took over the mask of confusion Giselle had worn. Her silk hair swished as she turned her head sharply to study our surroundings.
We were on a smaller, one-lane road now. Houses became fewer, and farmland filled the land between. The sun, fighting its way from the hanging clouds, shot rays of light through the treetops and shone patterns onto the grass.
Giselle and I sat in silence for the rest of the drive. Her gaze continued to focus out the window, her fingers tangled in her hair. I turned thoughts over and over in my mind, reliving memories I had tried to abandon decades ago.
The long driveway wound up a large, slowing-sloping hill off of the main road. As we turned onto the worn dirt road, cattle grates creaked and shuddered under the weight of the car. The narrow drive ascended around one hill before wrapping around another. As we approached the house, the dirt turned to gravel, absent of tire tread, obviously untouched for a long while.
The house was quiet –research I’d done had confirmed that – and looked out of place in its surroundings. The ground along the worn foundation was vivid green and full of life; I could hear the clicking of tiny ants marching their way along the cracks in the wood. Wildflowers splashed the grass at the foot of long-forgotten hedges and bright butterflies danced around the edge of the crumbling roof.
The once magnificent Victorian home sat dejectedly now, worn and broken. The house I had lived out my human years in no longer stood proudly as it did in my mind. I had not visited this place since racing from the most horrible of secrets, ninety years ago. It sat before us, shoulders slumped, a sad reminder of my past.
The sound of the car doors slamming behind us seemed much louder than necessary, reverberating to the forest that surrounded most of the property.
I stepped quickly up the walk, Giselle’s warm hand in mine, pulling her forward. The path-stones I knew existed beneath our feet were no longer visible, buried by years of overgrowth. The hidden stones led us to the heavy, carved front door.
While Giselle’s eyes studied the shapes traced into the dark wood, my thoughts wandered to the woods below. Between the thick trunks of the large redwoods, I could see the sprawling meadow; it was a favorite place of mine as a human. It had been a calming place, peaceful. Running behind the clearing, I could hear the trickling creek. A small animal splashed through the water; a fox from the sound of it.
The scent was pleasant, causing an ache deep in my throat, waking my forgotten thirst. While the fox’s’ musty smell was tempting, it was far from the wonderful floral aroma wafting through the air off of Giselle. I stiffened and stepped quickly around her.
It would take time, and a significant amount of will and control to trust myself entirely in Giselle’s presence.
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