Immortal Enemies

Chapter one

The first thing I come to notice are sounds. I can hear the beating of rain around me, the roars of thunder loud enough to reverberate through my center. The distance hum of music calms me, base thumping like an unsteady heart beat. The screams of laughter from drunken teenagers makes me cringe, shaking me to the bone. Where am I? My whole world feels like a blur. I see flashes burned in the back of my mind. Two lights blazing at me. The chill of pavement beneath my spine. Metal against my throat. This is nothing like the place I was before, slowly fading from my memory. My eyes rip open, gazing up at a canopy of dark shadowy trees, its naked fingers looming over me as they could pick me up like a rag doll. As I move slightly to the left, the crunch of dead autumn leaves echoes beneath my head. I shift uncomfortably on the forest floor. The forest floor where I left myself. I snap up with a jump, staring down at my hands. Living hands! I stare blankly at them, flipping them over from one side to the other inspecting them. I crumple my hands into a fist and watch, amazed as they contract. I touch one to the other, testing to see if the surface is solid. Unyielding flesh. Physical flesh. Sounds. Movement. There's only one place I could be. But how did I get here? Before I can stop myself, a blood curdling scream emanates from inside my lungs, putting to shame the other sounds around me. For a moment, it feels like the world stops. The music cuts off. The rain freezes in the air, the teenagers stop in their tracks. I scream again,  a realization hitting me with the force of a semi.

Mortal. Everything is mortal. Suddenly the splashing of footsteps in the collective puddles sends me into a panic. My heart repeatedly throws itself against my ribs, tears sting in my eyes. I stumble to my feet. Do I even remember how to walk? I guess I'll find out. I grip on for dear life to a tree trunk, slipping in the relentless mud that refuses to give me balance. My nails clamp into the bark, unsteady short breaths flying in and out of my lips. The footsteps are getting closer. I let myself slide into the mud and scoot over to a puddle, the water warping my reflection. I look different than I remember. Long black hair framing my face, big bulging green eyes, pale porcelain skin, and red lips. I am the same age I left my body by the looks of it. Eighteen. My hands pat my cheeks, the wet skin smooth beneath my fingers. I lift my chin, examining my throat, which I last remembered an incision being. The skin is flimsy but sealed, not even a scar taking its place. I test my ribs. Unbroken. The crunch of leaves directly behind me sends my body flailing into the small pool of water, flipping and twisting around to get a better look at the approaching threat. As soon as I whip around, my eyes fall on a boy, his hazel eyes shining in the moonlight. I don’t remember mortal boys being as gorgeous, as perfect as him. His thick brown hair dances in the breeze, the wind and rain teasing with it. He bites his lush bottom lip and holds out a hand to me. In my fit of terror, I back myself into a tree trunk, sending water and leaves askew through the air.

"Whoa, whoa," his harmonic voice whispers. "It's okay. I'm here." He holds out his hand again, as if I were an animal he worries will bite. I place my hand in his, his warmth surging through me. "You're shaking," he hums sweetly. "Who are you? Where did you come from?" his thumb glides across the top of my hand, sending waves of pure pleasure up my arm. I  haven't spoke in over six years. My vocal chords, probably atrophied from the underuse, can't seem to formulate words. There's pressure, like knots, caught in my throat, and I'm not sure if it's from my neglected larynx or the fact this boy took my breath away. I strain my voice, managing a strangulated reply.

"Zayne," I choke out my name. It comes easier than I imagined it would. I point up to answer his second question. My tongue still can't formulate plausible sentences, adjusting to the movements necessary to make out real words. The air between us tenses as he helps me to my feet. I immediately crash against his chest, inhaling the scent of vanilla soap masked beneath the salty rain.

"Whoa…" he braces me against his chest. "Careful." He had me scooped up into his arms once he realized trying to make me walk was no use. I feel as if the forest is flying past me at the swift pace he moves in, dodging trees and ducking beneath branches. He eventually leads me to the outskirts of the forest to a highway precariously placed on the edge of a cliff, overlooking a spectacular beach. The crashing waves set me in a stupor, watching the tide inhale and exhale erratic breaths of salt water. Not too far away is an old warn down truck; the boy cautiously releases the tailgate and sits me atop it. His gentle, caring hands rise to my cheeks, wiping away my coils of drenched hair from my face. "Zayne. Is that what you said your name was?" he pulls my attention off of the water and onto his curly chocolate locks. I give him a shy nod as he wraps a blanket around my shoulders, rubbing my arms to alleviate the goose bumps. He jumps up on the tailgate next to me, so close our thighs push together. "My name is Aiden." He tucks a single wet lock behind his ear. I allow my gaze to shift upward to meet his. Shall I dare to speak?