Each Vibrant Memory

The next morning, I was giddy as I got ready for school. I didn't know what to expect today. After the weekend's revelations, I didn't know how to act around Warren, or what he was expecting of me.

This seemed like something that happened a lot. Warren had totally shattered my illusion or reality, and, piece by piece, he was showing me the way that things really were.

When I got to school, he was waiting outside for me, as usual. He simply offered his hand and we walked down the hall together. It was like nothing had changed. I didn't know if I felt disappointed or not.

The sinking feeling in my stomach faded immediately when he diffidently blurted, "I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" I asked. "What kind of a surprise?"

"You'll see. Just don't make any plans for Saturday, alright?" I started to ask who he thought I might make plans with, considering I spent nearly all of my time with him or Chris, but thought better of it. A surprise!

"Is it a pony?" I asked jokingly, recalling the time that I, as Milly, had received one from him. Always, Warren had gone all out for me.

Warren chuckled. "No. And no more guessing. You're not getting it out of me."

"I don't think I want another pony, anyway. You couldn't find one better than my Maisy was." Besides, horses smelled funny and required a lot of care. Back then, it hadn't bothered me, but times were different now. I gripped Warren's arm and turned him so that he was facing me. I gazed into his eyes, pleading silently to be told the secret. Warren made a show of covering his face so that he couldn't see.

"Not that look! Why is it that you always, always manage to remember it exactly, each cycle? I don't know how to say no to you when you look at me like that. I guess I'll just make a point not to look at you until Saturday." And he did, too. He would look at my hands, my ears, my mouth, but never my eyes. It was amusing at first, but I longed for that one silent link.

I supposed that was just one more thing to look forward to on Saturday.

Friday night, Warren said he was too busy to see me. Saturday morning, he wouldn't even answer his phone. I couldn't handle the suspense. The worst part was that Chris was nowhere to be found, either. There was no one around to distract me from wondering.

So when my front door slammed open in the middle of the afternoon, I raced downstairs and saw that it was Chris, wrestling with a massive garbage bag. It was comical, seeing him try to get it through the door without distorting it too much.

"What's that?" I asked. His head snapped up, and he swore.

"Well, I guess you were going to have to find out sometime." Now he looked a little excited. He started pulling on a zipper and I saw that it was actually a bag. Underneath was miles of cloth that could only be described as ruby red. Chris maneuvered the cloth out of the bag, revealing that it was actually a dress. A dress with the fullest skirt I had ever seen, made in the style of the dress I had worn lives ago, when Antoine had spun me around and around…

It was gorgeous. I rushed over to him and started stroking it. It was plush and velvety and the stuff of dreams. My dreams, that was. "Please tell me this is mine," I begged. In the middle of the full skirt was a gold section with a pattern of shapes not dissimilar to fleurs-de-lis, closed off by a V of delicate golden rope. Gorgeous didn't even begin to describe it.

"It's yours," Chris confirmed, which set my heart to soaring. "And it's from Warren. You're supposed to wear it tonight." Wear it? I was going to get to wear this? Just looking at it had me planning out exactly how I would do my hair, just so. Glossy ringlets down my back, with half pulled up into an intricate knot. Thank goodness I still remembered how to make those from my Parisian socialite days. The only problem was that it took quite a bit of time. And my makeup, it would have to be something special if I was going to pull off this look. I just hoped my red lipstick wasn't gone.

"How much time have I got to get ready?" I asked.

"We're leaving here at five." I did some mental math. I should have just enough time, if I started right now. I bolted up the stairs without saying another word.

Five o'clock came and I was just putting the final pin into my hair. It would take a hurricane to wreck it, I thought with no small amount of satisfaction. I headed downstairs and froze halfway down when I saw Warren waiting at the bottom, looking at me with eyes filled with an emotion that could only be described as love.

I started walking again as soon as my heart picked up its normal rhythm back up. I did my best to glide down, feeling like a giant cliché as I let my right hand trail down the banister. The instant my feet hit the ground, Warren cupped my face with his hands, turning it this way and that, kissing each cheek. At least he knew better than to smudge my lipstick.

"Darling, you look beautiful," he whispered. "I could stay here all night just describing all of the ways you're beautiful and never run out, but we have somewhere to be."

"Where?" I asked, hoping that my blush wasn't too obvious. I had already worked out the bare bones of it. We were going to a ball. But I was dying for details.

"I think you'll like it," was all Warren would say. He opened his car door for me and even helped me fit the skirt of my dress in without it getting creased. On the drive, he held my hand tightly, possessively. I liked it.

But when he stopped in the parking lot of a ritzy hotel, I was confused. I looked at him questioningly, but Warren just grinned and shook his head. My anticipation was physically painful.

Warren looped my arm with his and escorted me into the building, walking confidently down one hallway and partially down another before stopping in front of a pair of heavy oak doors. Warren finally, finally looked me in the eyes before ever so slowly opening them. I couldn't help it; I gasped.

It was a grandiose ballroom, decorated exactly like Madame Thournier's had been centuries ago. All of our friends were there, including Penelope with, yes, Hans, sitting next to her. I was glad she was here, since I still needed to find out what Warren and Chris had been talking about the other night. I waved at her and she grinned. Hans tapped her shoulder and handed her a cup. She accepted, but I could tell even from this distance that she scolded him, as well. I could almost hear her words. "You don't have to keep helping me. I'm fine here, go on and talk with your friends." Hans shook his head stiffly and glanced my way again. He looked nervous.

Why?

If Warren noticed where my thoughts were directed, he said nothing. But he did tug me out to where several couples were whirling, spinning…

And while we danced, I had a moment of connection. Everything suddenly made perfect sense. Of course those girls were me, Genevieve and Milly and Lizzie. Of course my snapshots into their lives were my own memories. It felt so real. And Warren… I pulled myself closer to him, quite the feat over my skirts. Nothing had ever made me as happy as he did. Never had I loved anyone half as much as I loved him.

For a few blissful moments, all was right in the world. Of course, of course it was then that everything came crashing down.

Literally.

A chandelier fell and only just avoided crushing anyone. We were all sprayed with a fountain of broken crystal. I felt some lodge itself in my neck, in my arms. I heard it slice through my dress and barely registered Warren's arms coming around me, his body covering mine. Protecting. Sheltering.

But even he couldn't protect me from what happened next.

Chaos. I didn't have another word for what was happening. The power was cut, so everything was dark. I heard ferocious snarling and could barely make out animal-like masses stalking into the room through every entrance. Nowhere was safe.

Warren pushed me down behind an eloquent banister. "Stay here until you have a straight shot at a door. Then run, Lydia. Don't look back. Just get out of here. I'll find you." And he ran off in to the melee.

I searched the room for some kind of sense, but I didn't see any. Everywhere I looked, there were what I believed to be wolves in intricate, deadly dances. I saw one get its throat torn out with one hideous, slurping gargle. I shuddered. That could have been Warren. It could have been Chris or Dalton or…

It was too much for me. I couldn't just sit here, doing nothing. Besides, the invaders, they were dangerous. I had no doubt that they would hesitate a second to hurt me, maybe kill me, if given half a chance. I had to get out.

I looked around me. I couldn't tell where everyone was because of the darkness. Why did it have to be the night of the new moon? Only faint starlight outlined their silhouettes. I felt sweat beading down my back and trembled with fear.

I had to be nuts.

I sprang out of my hiding place and sprinted. I had never run so fast in my entire life. I had never felt such bone-deep panic. Who were they? Why were they here? It was hard, so hard, to go so quick with my dress weighing me down, but it was too late to worry about that now. I slipped off my shoes as I ran, glad that they weren't strapped on. I looked for the nearest door, but was mostly guessing. I rounded a corner, steering clear of a long table just in time, only to collide into a matted mass of fur. It, whatever and whoever it was, turned on me, snarling. Its opponent took advantage of the opportunity to run it into that selfsame table. I heard bones crunching.

I didn't know how much longer I could run. Why was this place so big? My lungs burned and my legs were jelly and still I pushed myself. It's amazing what blind panic can do. I found the door, and hope sprang in me. I could make it out there. I could escape. I could hide, and Warren would find me. He would make it out okay. He had to.

But then something collided into me and I was flying through the air, flying and falling and fading.