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𝔈𝔭𝔦𝔰𝔬𝔡𝔢 𝔢𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔫 ✔️

Twilight.....the violett deep darkness of twilight...

The velvet hues faded around Rye and he came to himself. It was not dusk but dawn, that stained the sky around him. Lost in his thoughts, he had driven up to the edge of the woods. To the northwest he could see Wickery Brigde and the graveyard. New memory set his pulse pounding.

He had told Robby that he was willing to give up everything for Harry. And that was just what he had done. He had renounced all claim to the sunlight, and had become a creature of darkness for him. A hunter doomed to be forever hunted himself, a thief who had to steal life to fill his own veins.

And perhaps a murderer. No, they had said the girl Lisa would not die. But his next victim might. The worst thing about his last attack was that he remembered nothing of it.

He remembered the weakness, the overpowering need, and he remembered staggering through the church door, but nothing after. He'd come to his senses outside with Andy's scream echoing in his ears-and he had raced to him without stopping to think about what might have happened.

Andy... For a moment he felt a rush of pure joy and awe, forgetting everything else. Andy, warm as sunlight, soft as morning, but with a core of steel that could not be broken. He was like fire burning in ice, like the keen edge of a silver dagger.

But did he have the right to love him? His very feeling for him put him in danger. What if the next time the need took him Andy was the nearest living human, the nearest vessel filled with warm, renewing blood?

I will die before touching him, he thought, making a vow of it. Before I broach his veins, I will die of thirst. And I swear he will never know ray secret. He will never have to give up the sunlight because of me.

Behind him, the sky was lightening. But before he left, he sent out one probing thought, with all the force of his pain behind it, seeking for some other Power that might be near. Searching for some other solution to what had happened in the church.

But there was nothing, no hint of an answer. The graveyard mocked him with silence.

Andy woke with the sun shining in his window. He felt, at once, as if he'd just recovered from a long bout of the flu, and as if it were Christmas morning. His thoughts jumbled together as he sat up.

Oh. He hurt all over. But he and Rye-that made everything right. That drunken slob Emilio... But Emilio didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered except that Rye loved him.

He went downstairs in his nightgown, realizing from the light slanting in the windows that he must have slept in very late. Aunt Reese and Sarah were in the living room.

"Good morning, Aunt Reese."He gave his surprised aunt a long, hard hug. "And good morning, pumpkin." He swept Sarah off her feet and waltzed around the room with her. "And-oh! Good morning, Robert." A little embarrassed at his exuberance and his state of undress, he put Sarah down and hurried into the kitchen.

Aunt Reese came in. Though there were dark circles under her eyes, she was smiling. "You seem in good spirits this morning."

"Oh, I am." Andy gave her another hug, to apologize for the dark circles. "You know we have to go back to the sheriff's to talk to them about Emilio."

"Yes." Andy got juice out of the refrigerator and poured himself a glass. "But can I go over to Lisa Gibson's house first? I know she must be upset, especially since it sounds like not everybody believes her."

"Do you believe her, Andy?"

"Yes," he said slowly, "I do believe her. And, Aunt Reese," he added, coming to a decision, "something happened to me in the church, too. I thought-"

"Andy! Mikey and Jack are here to see you." Robert's voice sounded from the hallway.

The mood of confidence was broken. "Oh... send them in," Andy called, and took a sip of orange juice. "I'll tell you about it later," he promised Aunt Judith, as footsteps approached the kitchen.

Mikey and Jack stopped in the doorway, standing with unaccustomed formality.

Andy himself felt awkward, and waited until his aunt left the room again to speak.

Then he cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on a worn tile in the linoleum. he sneaked a quick glance up and saw that both Mikey and Jack were staring at that same tile.

He burst into laughter, and at the sound they both looked up.

"I'm too happy to even be defensive," Andy said, holding out his arms to them. "And I know I ought to be sorry about what I said, and Iam sorry, but I just can't be all pathetic about it. I was terrible and I deserve to be executed, and now can we just pretend it never happened?"

"You ought to be sorry, running off on us like that," Mikey scolded as the three of them joined in a tangled embrace.

"And with Emilio, of all people," said Jack.

"Well, I learned my lesson on that score," Andy said, and for a moment his mood darkened. Then Mikey trilled laughter.

"And you scored the big one yourself-Rye Beaumont! Talk about dramatic entrances. When you came in the door with him, I thought I was hallucinating. How did you do it?"

"I didn't. He just showed up, like the cavalry in one of those old movies."

"Defending your honor," said Mikey. "What could be more thrilling?"

"I can think of one or two things," said Jack. "But then, maybe Andy's got those covered, too."

"I'll tell you all about it," Andy said, releasing them and stepping back. "But first will you come over to Lisa's house with me? I want to talk to her."

"You can talk tous while you're dressing, and while we're walking, and while you're brushing your teeth for that matter," said Mikey firmly. "And if you leave out one tiny detail, you're going to be facing the Spanish Inquisition."

"You see," said Jack archly, "all Mr. Tanner's work has paid off. Mikey now knows the Spanish Inquisition is not a rock group."

Andy was laughing with sheer ebullience as they went up the stairs.

Mrs. Gibson looked pale and tired, but invited them in.

"Lisa's been resting; the doctor said to keep her in bed," she explained, with a smile that trembled slightly. Andy, Mikey and Jack crowded into the narrow hallway.