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And yet...how could I wait around? I was going to go crazy if I sat here. Glancing down at Aubrey, I saw her watching me with her green eyes. She had that infinitely wise look cats had sometimes. It wasn't exactly encouraging, but it soothed me a little.
Okay. I could do this.
I found my coat and started to shape-shift my messy hair into a neat arrangement-except, of course, I immediately realized I couldn't shape-shift it. Not a problem, I assured myself. I did my hair all the time when I wasn't in a rush. This was no different. With a quick dash to the restroom, I brushed my hair into a sleek ponytail and prepared to face the world.
Stepping outdoors, I was blasted with stimuli. I stood on the steps to my building, shell-shocked and unable to move. This had never happened to me. Never, never had I been afraid of the world. I'd always rejoiced in it and been eager to see what it had to offer. Slipping my hand into my purse, I reached for my cigarettes, seeking them like a safety blanket. When I took them out, I realized something else. I wasn't necessarily immune to them anymore. This stasis probably wouldn't last long...but how could I risk it? How could I expose myself to carcinogens when I had no idea how vulnerable I truly was?
Putting the cigarettes back, I took a deep breath and plunged forward.
The distance to the store was barely three blocks, but it felt like miles. I walked as far away as I could from traffic and flinched each time someone passed me. When I finally reached the intersection to cross over to Emerald City, I was sweating. Queen Anne Avenue is not an overly crazy road. This particular spot had three lanes and steady traffic, with a moderate speed of 30 (which meant people could usually be found going 35-40).
Nonetheless, standing there, I might as well have been trying to cross I-5 itself, with five lanes racing in each direction. The crosswalk was red, giving me time to build up courage and remind myself that I'd crossed here hundreds of times-jaywalking more often than not. I was being irrational, freaking out at things I had no business worrying about. The light dinged and gave me the go-ahead.
I set out, each step agony. I'd almost reached the far curb when a Honda turning on red from the cross street suddenly pulled into the intersection, having only checked for cars and not pedestrians. Seeing me, the driver slammed on her brakes a bit more harshly than she probably needed. They squealed, and the car came to a stop about two feet from me. While moderately alarming, this wasn't anything that probably would have scared me too much under ordinary circumstances. The car had stopped, after all, and I was almost across anyway. Yet, I was so on edge already that when I heard the brakes and saw how close she was, I simply froze. I stood there, caught-literally-in the headlights.
I couldn't think or move. It was so stupid. Seven more steps, and I would have been safe. The woman's panic over avoiding me turned to annoyance when she realized I was blocking her way. She pressed down on her horn, which was a particularly loud and obnoxious one. Unfortunately for her, it was ineffectual. If anything, the noise simply froze me up more.
Suddenly, someone grabbed a hold of my arm and started tugging me to the curb. The bitch in the Honda kept honking, and I think I was nearly as startled by it as I was when Seth yelled to her, "Oh, shut up already!"
His steady hands guided me to the sidewalk where I promptly froze up again, oblivious to the curious cars and pedestrians. Cupping my face, he forced me to look up at him. His eyes were like warm molasses, and something about them spread comfort through me and brought me back to myself.
"Georgina, are you okay?"
My whole body trembled, and it took me a moment to gather myself and speak. "I...I think so..."
His voice was so, so gentle when he spoke. "What happened there?"
I blinked back tears. "Nothing...that is..." I couldn't finish. I was going to break down, then and there, right on Queen Anne Avenue. I hated myself for being so weak and scared.
"Never mind," said Seth, taking hold of my arm again. "It doesn't matter. You're safe. Let's go inside."
If any of my co-workers saw Seth leading me through like an invalid, I didn't notice. In fact, I was barely aware of the trek at all until we were inside my office. Seth sat me down and then shut the door. He leaned down toward me.
"Do you need anything? Water? Something to eat?"
Slowly, almost robot-like, I shook my head. "N-no. I...I just came for my laptop."
The normal look of timidity he'd worn around me lately had vanished, replaced by something stern and concerned-something that wouldn't rest until he knew I was okay. He was no longer the shy author who feared looking at me and always gave me a wide berth. He was once again the man I'd dated, the man who'd always been able to read my moods and step up to help.
"Georgina, please. Please tell me what happened."
It looked as though my tears were going to stay away, and now that I was indoors, in familiar territory, I allowed myself to feel a little braver. "Why are you being so nice to me again?"
He frowned. "Why wouldn't I be nice to you?"
"Because...because...I wasn't very nice to you the last time we talked. Even after you gave me the book."
He made a noise in his throat, almost like a laugh, but not quite. "You weren't yourself, not after all those drinks. It's fine."
"I don't know," I said contrarily, "maybe I was myself."
He shook his head. "It wouldn't matter. Now tell me, what happened out there?"
The warmth in his voice, the concern...it was tearing me apart. There was something so familiar and safe about him that I longed for right now, and I couldn't evade him.
"It's...complicated," I said at last.
"Immortal intrigue?"
I nodded, feeling tears well in my eyes again. Fuck. I think half of my emotion now was from the way he was looking at me and had nothing to do with the rest of my life's madness. I stood up and looked away, hoping he wouldn't see my face, but it was no use.
"Georgina, what's happened? You're scaring me."
I dared a glance back. "You...you wouldn't believe me if I told you."
His face was still filled with worry, but the hint of a smile turned up the edges of his lips. "Can you seriously believe that after half the stuff I've seen you go through? Try me."
"Fair enough," I admitted. "But I don't want to get you involved."
"I want to help," he said, moving closer. His voice was like velvet, wrapping me up in softness and security. "Please. Tell me what's going on."
I wanted to tell him there was nothing he could do, but suddenly, words spilled from my lips.
"Jerome got summoned-which means he's trapped somewhere and-"
"Whoa, wait. Summoned? Like in Dr. Faustus ?"
"Um, yeah. And so long as he's gone, we're all in this weird state. Peter calls it 'stasis.' None of us have our pow-abilities anymore. I can't shape-shift. Hugh can't see souls. The only ones who are happy about this are the vampires because they can go in the sun again, which'll probably end up killing them. And if we don't find Jerome soon, someone else is going to take over here, and I really don't want that. And yet...I really don't want to go another second like this either, being in this limbo. I want everything to go back to how it was."
Seth's face was unreadable as he regarded me for several heavy seconds. Finally, he said, "Is it...is it so bad going without shape-shifting?"
I shook my head and began to ramble further. "It's not that. It's the fact that I may not be immortal anymore. I can't...I can't handle that. Coming here was horrible. The walk from my apartment. I'm afraid of everything. It's stupid. I mean, you guys-humans-get by all the time and don't think about it. But I'm scared to leave the house. Scared of what could happen to me. And when that car didn't see me right away-fuck. I just froze. I was paralyzed. God, I feel like an idiot. I must sound crazy."
At long last, a tear leaked out of the corner of one eye, the final stamp on my weakness. Seth reached out and gently wiped it away. He didn't withdraw his hand when finished, though. He slid it to my shoulder and pulled me to him. I rested my head on his chest, swallowing back more tears as I sank into the protection he offered.
"Georgina, Georgina," he murmured, running his hand over my back. "It's going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay."
Those words...there was something so wonderful about them, simple as they were. When people are distressed, others have an instinct to want to actually do something tangible to help-men in particular. And there's nothing wrong with that-often, it's very much desired. But what a lot of people don't get is that sometimes, all that's needed is to hear those words: Everything's going to be okay . It's enough to know that someone's there, that someone cares about you. It isn't always about the next logical course of action.
