Forever Read Online Free PDF Page A

kept going through to the living room, then paused.
    Lomen stood by the couch. He looked at me, raising all the hopes that threatened to shut off my brain, then away.
    Beside him stood another guy from the same family: russet hair, slender but well-toned body, green eyes—a little darker than Caeran’s and Lomen’s. These guys had strong genetic traits, that was for sure.
    He and Caeran were talking in a language I didn’t recognize: fluid, with soft consonants. The conversation stopped as I came in. The new guy looked at me warily, then his attention shifted to Amanda, who walked up and plastered herself to him. He bent his head to whisper something to her, still watching me.
    Lomen turned and greeted me with a civil nod. My gut clenched with conflicting emotions: pleasure at seeing him, frustration at his distant attitude, irrational fear that I’d done something to annoy him.
    Caeran spoke up. “Steve, this is Savhoran, another of my kin. He is vital to the research we’ll be doing.”
    I looked at the new guy again. He had on a loose-woven cotton shirt and pants, the fabric similar to what Len was wearing. Amanda loosed her hold on him and he took a step toward me, then made a quaint little bow.
    “I am glad to meet you,” he said.
    His hair was braided back, but as he moved, the light caught streaks of white amid the brown.

 
     
= 3 =
    W hite hair. Caeran’s kin.
    “You’ve got the disease,” I blurted.
    And so did the campus killers.
    Savhoran straightened and a swallow moved his throat. His eyes had gone cold, but he nodded. Amanda slid her arm around him again.
    “Savhoran will give us whatever samples are needed to study his DNA,” Caeran said. “We hope that comparing it to that of a healthy—relative—myself or Lomen, will help in identifying the cause.”
    “It might not be genetic,” I said, though my mind was racing.
    “Possibly not, but we are prepared to try every avenue of research.”
    “Is it just coincidence, or does this disease make people into homicidal maniacs?”
    Caeran glanced toward Savhoran, but he was staring at the floor. “That’s not quite it. May I suggest we all sit down?”
    Caeran gestured toward the couch, then moved to the chair he’d taken before. Savhoran took the other chair and Amanda sat on the arm, still clinging to him. That left the couch for me and Lomen. I sat on the end near Caeran, leaving plenty of room. I didn’t look at Lomen, but a rush went through me as he sat and his weight moved the couch.
    Caeran laced his fingers and leaned back, hands to his chin, thinking. After a moment he straightened up and looked at me.
    “What I am going to tell you will sound fantastic, like something out of fiction. I ask that you bear with me, and set aside the myths this will conjure for you.”
    “OK.”
    “The disease does not make people homicidal, exactly. It makes them crave blood.”
    My jaw dropped. “Vampirism?”
    “The basis of that myth, yes. But the myth carries misconceptions.”
    “I’m listening.”
    “This disease cannot affect you or Amanda or Len, or any other human. Only my kindred and I are vulnerable to it.”
    I frowned. “You’re implying that you and your kindred aren’t human.”
    “That is correct.”
    Silence. I stared at Caeran, who gazed back calmly.
    I bit back several sarcastic comments, and finally managed to just say, “Then what are you?”
    He took a slow breath. “This, also, will bring myths to mind.”
    “OK.”
    “We are ælven.”
    Long pause. Part of me wanted to laugh, but no one else seemed to think it was funny. I glanced at Amanda, who gave a tiny nod and a crooked smile.
    Len came in from the kitchen. She shot me a sympathetic look, then went to sit on the floor by Caeran’s chair.
    Caeran was watching me. Waiting for me to accept or protest.
    “So...only elves can be vampires?” I said, my voice quavering. The impulse to laugh was part disbelief, part panic.
    “Only ælven can be afflicted with