“Yeah.” I sat up too. “When you were kids, did you ever play in the wide f—”

“Ara. I can’t talk about this.”

“Why?”

“My brother is dead, okay.” His whole body went rigid; he stared at me, eyes hollow, polluted with a kind of…anger. “I don’t want to talk about my childhood, of all things.”

“But—”

“No buts.” He rolled away and pulled the blanket over his shoulders. “That’s the end of this discussion.”

My mouth fell open a little as a tingling layer of hurt surrounded me. Well, fine. Guess that’s it for tonight then—for our last night together for who knows how long.

I shuffled down under the blanket and rolled the other way, shifting as far away from David as my queen-size bed would allow.

Summer kissed her skin, glowing off her yellow dress, and she laid on her belly in the long grass under the tree, picking petals off a daisy. “He loves me—” she sent one floating on the breeze. “He loves me not.”

Overly hesitant this time, I looked on, prepared for more truths about this self of mine I didn’t remember.

She swung her legs gently back and forth, her dress rising slightly in the wind, revealing her white underwear. I wanted to reach out and pull it down, but knew my hands would fall straight through her.

“He loves me.” She picked another petal and threw it away, rolling onto her back, her wavy hair splaying out, brown against green. “He loves me not.”

“He loves you.” Jason clasped a hand over the daisy, dropping to the ground beside her.

“Where did you come from?” The girl sat up, ditching the flower.

“Well, when a mummy and daddy vampire love each other very much—”

“Ha-ha.” She slapped his shoulder with the back of her hand. “Very funny, Jason. You just sprung up out of nowhere. I didn’t know you were here today.”

He motioned to the gentle breeze making the leaves dance above them; “It’s sunny, isn’t it? Aren’t I always here when it’s sunny?”

“No, it’s always sunny when you’re here—there’s a difference.”

Jason smiled softly and brushed the backs of his fingers over the side of her face, sweeping her hair back as he did. “You have grass in your hair.”

The girl smiled and reached down beside her, ripping up a handful of the green field, then sprinkled it onto Jason’s head. “So do you.”

Jason’s Cheshire cat grin warmed even my heart from where I stood, watching, looking on like some outsider who’d never lived this moment.

“That’s it.” He lunged toward her, landing between her legs as the long grass curved up around them. “Now you will pay the price for my new turfpee.”

“Turfpay?”

“Yeah, like toupee, but made of turf.”

She cackled like a small child. “And, what might that price be, kind sir, for your new trufpee?”

“A kiss.”

“Just a kiss?”

“At first. Then—” he leaned closer, “—you can promise me one more, every day, for the rest of your life.”

She smiled and closed her eyes. “One, for now. And if you make it sweet, I’ll give you something more.”

I fell suddenly under the weight of Jason’s body, taking form as his lips touched hers, becoming mine, and the feel of him, so real, so solid, set my heart jumping. I sat bolt upright, sweat beading on my brow, cooling under the wintry chill of the absent day in my bedroom.

David didn’t even stir. I watched him, waiting, but he stayed heavily under the restful dreams that seemed to belong to everyone in this house but me.

I threw the covers back and jumped out of bed, desperate for some fresh air.

Stars greeted me with glimmering smiles, and night air kissed my cheeks with frosty lips. The intensity of my dream or mind-link or memory came with me though, despite the quiet and the calm out by the lake.

I folded my arms and fought back tears.

At my feet, the moonlight offered me a reflection, wavering like steam in the almost still lake. And the girl I looked upon, who I’d seen so many times in my life, was no longer a stranger. She had done unspeakable things with another man, lived another life in dreams I couldn’t remember, but the truth, deep inside, is that we were the same. What she has done, so have I, and I can no longer deny that her reflection is mine.

The grief took over then and I folded in on myself, dropping to my knees in front of the lake. The girl reached out as I rested my hand to the cool water, letting my fingers sink through her face. And she cried too, because she knew what I felt, knew what I’d suffered. I wanted to see him behind her—to see Jason, to look upon him once more. To tell him what I couldn’t tell my husband; that I am antagonistic lately, because, inside, I’m grieving—crying out for someone I shouldn’t be missing; regretful for the way he died, for what he lost, suffered in the moments that lead to his death.

And all Jason wanted was for me to take his life—free myself from the burden of the bind—the very thing that, I had to believe, was making me feel love for him, sitting here, alone, by the lake, in the middle of the night.

“Ara?” The warmth of a jacket draped over my shoulders, and David rubbed his hands up my arms a few times. “What are you doing out here—you’ll catch a cold.”

“I won’t catch a cold.” I stood up and shook the water off my hands. “I don’t get sick.”

“Actually, Lilithians can get sick. I’d rather not test the boundaries.” He stood so far behind me, as if he was afraid or maybe just too angry to touch me. “Why are you crying?”

“I—” I couldn’t tell him about the dream, but I wanted to so badly. I wanted to tell him my grief. But, when Jason died, something broke in David’s heart. He’d never had to live with mortality before; he’d always had Jason there to fight with, or ignore to make a point. I actually believed David grieved Jason’s loss, silently—like I did. But out in the open, the truth would make us both sick, to know that the other felt anything for him after what he did to us. So I took a deep breath and said, “I’m just scared about tomorrow—about meeting the Lilithians.”

“I know.” He nodded softly.