Exposing ELE (ELE Series #3) by Courtney Nuckels, Rebecca Gober Page B

wrist.
    Tony notices it too and gently pulls my arm up to get a better look. “What happened? When did you cut yourself?”
    I look down, not sure what to say. You can barely see a scar from where the knife must have sliced me without my knowledge. My healing abilities must have fixed me up. “I don't know, it probably happened last night.”
    Tony looks at me suspiciously. I don't waver so finally he says, “Let's get you cleaned up then first.” He takes me to the kitchen and washes my arm under the sink. I watch as he gently wipes at the bloodstain with a damp cloth. I could have just as easily rinsed my own arm off but something about Tony's gesture and protective qualities is quite endearing in this moment.
    After I'm all cleaned up and good to go, no Band-Aid necessary, he takes me on the tour. I view their formal dining room, which consists of a large oak table and six chairs. He takes me upstairs and shows me his parent's room, which he doesn't linger in too long. I'm sure the memories in there are hard for him.
    I give him a hug after we close the door. “So can I see your room?”
    The grief leaves his eyes and turns quickly into playfulness. “I thought you'd never ask.” He takes me down the hall and opens the door to his room. I walk in and look around. It's definitely not what I would have expected. The pitched ceiling makes the room look open and airy. A full size bed sits in the corner. A large desk seems to be the main focal point of the room. On it sits numerous graphite pencils, papers of different texture and colors, paints and a few books on sketching. Sketches of people and cars hang on the walls.
    “Did you draw all of these?” I walk into the room and look from picture to picture as if browsing in an art exhibit.
    “Yes,” Tony whispers. I look back at him and I can see something in his expression. His cheeks are a little red and he looks almost embarrassed.
    “They are beautiful. You have amazing talent,” I reassure him.
    His expression lightens and he smiles meekly, which is surprising since nothing about Tony is meek. “Thanks. I wasn't sure if you'd think it was goofy or childish.”
    I shake my head and go back to admiring his handiwork. “Nothing about art is childish. Not many people can draw like this.” A sketch of an old Lamborghini is so three dimensional and starkly real that it looks like it could drive right off the paper. I find a picture of a man and woman holding hands. They look so lively and in love. The shading is perfect and you can see the emotions in their faces. The love shines through in the drawing. “Who is this?” I ask.
    Tony comes to stand next to me. “That's my parents.” He reaches out and gently grazes the sketch with his fingertips.
    “They must have been very much in love.” I'm not sure if this subject is too painful or if I should move us on to another sketch or not.
    “They were. You know, I've had some time to think about it. I think that might have been part of the reason they turned into Reapers. I think they thought it would give them the best advantage to stay alive and together longer. We didn't know how long or how hot the temperatures would get during that time. When the first set of people started turning with that red shot, they tried to convince others that it was the best thing for everyone. They spoke about feeling more powerful than ever and some even thought that the change would make them immortal. When my parents made the decision, it was before everyone realized how bad Reapers really were. Some people were already dying around the shelter and coming up brain dead, but they didn't know it was because of a Reaper. I think the sudden deaths were a catalyst to my parents' choice as well as many others. I honestly believe that my mom and dad were trying to find a way to make sure they both survived together, along with me. I don't think they were looking for power. It's kind of ironic that little did they know that the change