The Last Corvus (completed)

Ch. 35 Isadora

Chapter 35

Isadora

We walk to his room and he opens the door. Stepping inside and turning on the light, he backpedals into me as a near deafening "happy birthday, Linden!" erupts. The funny thing is, different people were saying different years, some saying ninety-seven and others saying nineteen at the same time. Both barely decipherable as they jumble together.

He smiles broadly, already over the surprise, and lets go of my hand as he enters his room-turned-party-central. I've never seen inside his room, and I marvel as I realize how different it is from mine. His looks lived in; posters of old jazz bands (really, really old jazz bands with French names,) clutter on some of the shelves, even painted furniture (mostly dark blue, surprisingly) and a tattered old quilt spread over his bed.

I notice Jem standing in the corner by herself and I 'say' hi. She snarls in response, making everyone whip their heads to her and just as quickly to where she's looking. Everything goes dead silent and then Winnamine gasps, rushing over to me through the small crowd and squeezing me in a bear hug. I squeeze back, realizing how much I've missed her, missed everyone, in my absence.

"You're back! You're really back!" she squeals, not even trying to contain her excitement. She changes in the blink of an eye, suddenly serious, "wait, you are staying, right?"

I nod, knowing that I wouldn't be able to leave everyone again so soon, even if that would involve living in the room right next to Linden. But could I really hold the kiss over him forever? I'll need to get over it eventually. 

Even though I've only lived here for a little less than a week, these people feel like family; and I might even feel more at home than when I lived with Aunt Molly. Here, I'm a creature among my own kind, a vampire among vampires. Even though, okay, I'm not a full vampire and neither is Lin. Whatever.

Until I get this whole Blood Craze thing in check, I better stay away from humans, even if they are idiots like Hank. It was a miracle I was able to restrain myself around the other men, but I don't want to have to risk it any more. I'll just have to lock myself in my room whenever Walter comes around (if I haven't scared him away permanently.)

Looking over Winna's shoulder, I realize there really aren't that many people here. There's Winnamine, Dr. Jones, Phillippe, and Jem (she's still glowering at me from the corner. She'd probably storm out if I wasn't still in the doorway; not that I can completely blame her, I did kill her boyfriend. No, he was trying to kill me and I had no say in what my blood would do to him. Still, I'd like to think we started out friends. It wasn't my fault, after all).

Then there's Lin, obviously, talking to someone in a wheelchair. Someone definitely not Dr. J. He seems to be in his mid-forties, but he seems so haggard, like an old man in a younger man's body, a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead, a fine line of drool running down his chin, a crazed look in his red eyes, and shaking hands clasped together on the blanket that covers his legs. Lin shifts and I see a blood IV drip running from a suspended bag into his arm.

The IV rings a bell, something Jem once said about someone thinking their IV was a snake. Is that Edgar? It must be, he's the only person I haven't yet met. It's strange, something about his face seems eerily familiar, like I've seen him in the background my whole life.

The answer comes to me and I try to not squeal with excitement, taking an involuntary step forward. It's not that I've known him my whole life, it's that I've seen him my whole life. Particularly on the cover of my favorite book, the collage on my wall.

It's Poe. He's Poe. He never died, he became a vampire!

But didn't he have rabies when he died, would that manifest in his vampirism? Mentally running down a list of rabies symptoms (I once did a report on the theories revolving around his death), drooling, shaking, and delirium are some of the top symptoms. There's also a lack of muscle control, which could explain the wheelchair, and hallucinations, which would explain the snake incident.

"Edgar Allen Poe?" I send to him, unsure if he'll be able to hear me in his condition. He does, jerking his head away from Linden and scanning the room, his eyes finally resting on me, unusually piercing.

"Isadora? I've heard so much about you, everyone talks about how wonderful you are. Especially Linden," we both look to him and he looks between us in confusion, completely out of the loop.

I cross the room, bend down, and take one of his shaking hands in mine and ask, "I don't mean to pry, but I've always wondered, what was Virginia like?"

He leans his head back in thought, a single tear commingling with the trail of drool, and he sighs deeply as his gruff voice stutters out "wonderful."

Trying not to cry at the thought of what this poor demented genius has had to go through, I think of something and excuse myself. Stepping around the chatting others, I exit the room and turn right, facing my door. Reaching for my pocket, my hand only brushes skirt, and I cringe at the fact that my jeans are back with the others. Thinking back, trying to remember if anyone has a spare key, I remember when I first got the key, when I put it in my bra.

Checking the hall for witnesses, I reach into my shirt and dig around in search of the key. My finger brushes something hard and warm and I try not to squeal as I pull out the key. The book's right where I thought I'd put it and I grab it and my favorite purple pen and return to the party. Edgar's almost asleep when I reach him, Linden off talking to Dr. J. He sees me and perks up, especially when he sees the cover of what I'm holding, Complete Stories and Poems by Edgar Allen Poe, with a picture of himself on the cover below the title.

I waggle the pen excitedly and he gets the hint, taking them both as I squeal with delight. At first I'm afraid his signature will turn out like a jumbled mess, but he somehow manages to steady his hand as he scrawls a quick note, flourishing his name at the end. He caps the pen and hands them back to me, once again shaking profusely. Opening it, I read his note: You have Virginia's smile, Edgar A. Poe. I beam at him and he chuckles, slowly nodding off to sleep.

Linden joins us then and I show him the note, beaming the whole time, and he returns my smile along with my book. "Well, it seems like the party's winding down. About the time he falls asleep everyone else is starting to get bored. We're not a very happening bunch here. Believe it or not, vampires have surprisingly short attention spans." He chuckles and then his smile fades, as if suddenly remembering that he's no longer one of them.

Trying to be supportive, I put my hand on his arm, once again being the recipient of a dazzling smile as he comes out of his sudden malaise. I watch as his eyes brighten as he thinks of something, "hey, you want to go somewhere? I know this great little club, very exclusive. I doubt you've ever heard of it."

I think for a whole whopping two nanoseconds and agree, running to get changed as he wheels Edgar to bed.