Touch The Soul | P. LAHOTE

1 John 2:9

"Whoever says he is in the light and hates his brother is still in darkness."

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Mary hated flying with a true passion. She could never understand how a lump of metal could fly even if she knew of the impossible. After all, Mary was the impossible, a complete fairy tale, sometimes even she had moments of disbelief. It had been hundreds of years yet the diamond sheen to her skin as the sun graced her was a beauty that filled her with awe and fear. Coming to grips with her existence slowly made its way into Mary's heart yet still she yearned for her humanity. Without it, she lost friends, family, and lovers, and her vampirism became a stronger curse every passing year. This year would be no different yet she hoped for change.

She was paused in a single moment, a time forgotten in living memory, a time she could only read in history books. Mary would visit museums and reminisce about days long gone, some nights she would hold her delicate and wilting Bible in her hands. It was gripped in her clutches when she awoke from her burning and never would she relinquish that hold. It was the little she had left of Mary Parr, reminding her the Volturi name hadn't completely cleansed her away. In her bag, it was heavy upon her lap, a phantom weight that brought a semblance of comfort. She was in severe need of it as she drew closer to Washington.

It'd been seventy years since she'd last visited the Quileute Reservation yet, like it was yesterday,  she could still smell the dampness of the forest, the tang of the soil and the pungent aroma of wet dog. Mary couldn't help but chuckle aloud at the recollection, ignoring the strange looks cast her way. Oh God, they did smell but what they lacked in hygiene she knew they made up for it with their bond. It was unlike anything she had felt and Mary knew Marcus would equally enjoy the tethers that held the pack together. It was inspiring and imbued her with a short fuse of envy, but to think such a thing would only anger Aro. To be jealous of such 'beasts' would only be an insult.

Landing in Washington, Mary immediately found the taxi rank and began her journey deeper into the state. It hit Mary then that in time, she would soon be in the middle of nowhere and in enemy territory. It was strange to think such a way but with Ephraim's pack long gone it might as well be true. Mary pulled her old Bible into her hand and held it close to her chest as the smell of wolf shifters grew stronger. They could probably sense her, feel her presence with the rise of the hair on their backs. It's how John was when he first laid eyes upon her, all temper and no brain, he couldn't stand her at first.

Mary felt a small smile curl at her lips, to reminisce on people gone was no good in Volterra but on the rez, it was all she could think about. Opening the Bible to 1 Corinthians 16:14, a strip of photobooth pictures in sepia tones stared back at Mary. It's so jarring how we looked side by side, she acknowledged as she traced the shifter's face. Their cheeks were pressed, squished, close together, smiles reaching their eyes, hair of blonde and black was mixing like the sun and night sky. They couldn't have been more different.

"Damn woman, why are you bloodsuckers so cold?" John chuckled as they squeezed into the booth. Mary's memories already came flooding back but before she could bask in them, her eyes caught the passage she had placed the photos upon 'Let everything you do be done in love'. A pang pierced Mary's dead heart and before she could let it wash over her completely, the Bible was closed with a delicate but sure motion.

"Here you go darling, need any help with your bags?" the taxi driver asked politely, a true gentleman even as Mary declined.

Outside the window, the sign marking the rez's land stared back at her, almost like a taunt. It was challenging for her to survive as she relived what happened all those years ago. The rez was beautiful but nothing short of a deathly reminder of what she'd lost.