American Goth by J. D. Glass Page A

to work with another, as you’ve trained with Cort. But,” she hesitated briefly, “you don’t yet know what it means to be truly bound to someone, and there are some bindings that take tremendous amounts of energy to break and some that can never be broken.”
    I found myself shaking my head again as I tried to understand what Elizabeth meant and she spoke to my confusion. “There are some that can take you from life to life, and there are bindings,” she paused and her words were measured, low, “bindings that can steal your heart, your soul, your life essence.”
    Now I was really confused. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” I confessed. “In fact, I don’t know what that has to do with anything I’ve been doing. And…” I hesitated; I didn’t want her to think I was being sarcastic or disrespectful. “Elizabeth, I’ve had the ‘birds and bees’ discussion with my father.” There was something, perhaps it was the weight of the knowledge that Elizabeth carried, that projected itself in such a way that I picked it up and read it. It took me past nervous anticipation to downright edgy.
    “And he would have had this one with you as well, when you were ready, as you are now. There’ll come a time,” she said, “when you’ll want to be bound to someone, or—” The skeptical glance I gave made her smile. “I know, I know, it doesn’t seem like that right now, but eventually, you’ll want to—at the very least—exchange the normal human closeness. If you choose to become bound to someone after your sealing, then they too either must be of a level equal to yours, or if they are not, they must become so, and bind themselves to the Light. This is Law, Annie—it cannot be gainsaid.”
    That made sense in a rather abstract way. “But what in the world does that have to do with sex?” I asked, “Or if I’m a…” That was a little too uncomfortable to think about, never mind say. “What’s the connection?”
    Elizabeth leaned forward. “Every aspect of the Material has energy—air, water, fire, wood, metal…skin, trees, sweat, blood—they each have a vibration. And then there’s the kinetic energy release connected to action—energy will disperse through movement, through sweat, through blood and the final release of sex, the act of—”
    I held up an uncomfortable hand. “I know the word,” I said.
    “Good—I didn’t want to have to explain it,” she said with a small grin, a grin I returned, relieved to know I wouldn’t have to sit through a technical discussion.
    “It’s very simple, really,” she said. “You carry extra energy because of the work you do. Sex is a life energy, and a great way of releasing some of the surplus, and sharing it with someone creates a link. Combine that energy in any way with a life essence—blood, for example—and you create a bond. Depending on what’s in your head and heart, your intent at the time, that bond can be completely unbreakable.”

    *

    I couldn’t really hear the rest of what she said, couldn’t absorb or understand it, because I didn’t really want to think about sex at all, and the more I tried not to think about it, the more I felt the uncomfortable stir, that long-ignored aspect of my life wake with a churning need that made me choke on my tea again.
    That was a good sign, I thought ruefully as I begged off from the rest of the conversation by claiming fatigue. It meant my body, and more, was vibrant, alive.
    But still, the arousal was worsened by the intermittent water pressure and the sudden drop in its temperature when I took a shower, and after, the towel I rubbed myself down with felt coarse and rough against my skin. I readied for bed only to strip before I got under the covers. It was too much, much too much. I tossed, I turned, then tossed some more.
    I didn’t want to think about what I’d just learned, because it took my mind to places I didn’t want it to go, an agonizing blank reach I didn’t