She tasted the change in the air. Lighter and easier to swallow, she sucked it in and held her breath letting her lungs absorb the familiar oxygen. The full moon shone down upon her with a knowing smile and led the way to her destination, ducking behind rows of colorful shotgun houses and reappearing when the coast was clear. Water dripped onto the sidewalk from balcony gardens where wandering ivy decorated the residential streets. It was hard to tell the flowers from the weeds in the future, but Paige was home, a subtle yet glaring difference. Trends came and went and technology advanced, but the good ole days offered more than nostalgia, they offered comfort and understanding. Paige felt the ground settle beneath her feet providing support and sustenance after her temporary misstep. She wanted to kiss the rain-soaked pavement but postponed her welcome home. Short on time and dangerously late, she stopped traffic while crossing the street onto Bourbon.

Regan gave her a ride to the French Quarters. Paige awoke on the floor of the library with the gold pocket watch resting at her fingertips. After scanning the room for Vincent and Alain, she darted for the double wooden doors. Regan was exactly where she said she’d be, curled up on a wicker chair in the upstairs room with the piano. Nodding off to the glow of a small television, she’d been unresponsive to Paige’s sudden arrival. Michael J. Fox rocked out to Johnny B. Goode as Paige shook her awake and demanded her car keys. Regan refused. Paige panicked. Tears poured from her eyes as she begged and pleaded offering money she didn’t have and knew Regan didn’t need, but the dramatic performance finally worked. She took the wheel and Regan rode passenger as they barreled down that tiresome highway counting the bumps and anticipating each curve in the road–Paige could have driven with her eyes closed. They arrived at the yellow house on the end of the street five minutes past the midnight hour. She left Regan asleep in the car and raced down the sidewalk ignoring the shouts of angry pedestrians as she pushed them out of the way.

Orange cones blocked off Bourbon Street where drunken spectators roared with unbridled festivity. Sirens wailed behind her as Paige plowed through the gathering crowd and forced them to allow passage. The ambulance followed her lead and parked on the curb next to The Cottonmouth Club, but Paige stopped dead in her tracks before reaching the door. She intended to beat the paramedics inside, but Alain crashed through the exit of the club with a distraught vampire nurse at his side. Flattening herself against the wall, Paige watched her other self being dragged away crying and screaming for help. She remembered the nightmarish moment. She remembered being stripped away from her dying brother by someone she thought was trustworthy. She remembered trying to resist, but Alain easily overpowered her. Paige stood against the wall and watched as he forced her into a black limousine and sped away from the scene. The pocket watch, she panicked, and cursed herself for leaving it on the floor.

Bouncers stood outside blocking the entrance to the club, but Paige charmed the well-intentioned guards and slipped past the angry crowd. Voices protested behind her and demanded to be let in, but the steel door silenced their outcries. Reaching into her father’s jacket pocket, she pulled out the syringe she’d borrowed from Regan. Vincent may have given her more time on the clock, but falling asleep on the library floor cost her at least thirty minutes. Onlookers overwhelmed the backdoor exit and spilled out into the courtyard where paramedics hovered above the fallen idol. Paige forced her way through.

Surrounded by a tall iron fence, the courtyard served as an outdoor patio for three separate bars. A light drizzle darkened the cobblestone ground and the wind cut through the private enclosure where vampires, witches and a flock of drunken flamingoes stood watching, some even snapped pictures of the lifeless celebrity. A police officer grabbed her arm and attempted to hold her back, but Paige threw off the obstacle and moved in on the paramedics. They lifted Gabriel onto a stretcher but she ordered them to stop, flailing her arms and yelling obscenities while pushing them aside. She knelt down beside him. Her twin brother, bloodied and wet from the damp air, she removed the oxygen mask from his mouth and kissed the open wound on his forehead. Tears blurred her vision as she stroked his hair and lifted his head into her lap, his broken face tinted blue and his green eyes hidden behind dark slits. She checked his pulse and held her hand over his heart, his body warm but clearly vacant. Lifting his arm, she held the needle in her mouth and rolled up the sleeve of his green army coat. She knew it was the wrong thing to do. She knew the consequences. Gabriel would never be free, always dependent on Vincent and a slave to the medicine until death had his way once again. She knew it was the wrong thing to do, but as she cradled his lifeless body and kissed his gentle face, grief had the final say.

The crowd stirred and turned away from the grim scene, distracted by another high profile celebrity. Gasps filtered through the onlookers and bright flashes lit up the courtyard as a familiar voice spoke out, demanding their attention. Doused with infectious confidence, he held them captive with his amber-green eyes and flipped back his long dreadlocks.

“Listen up everyone, here’s what happens next! On the count of three, everyone empties their cameras. Leave the film on the ground by your feet. Okay, here we go, one, two…”

Paige finished injecting the medicine while Michael controlled the crowd, looking exactly as he did in the future, minus the small patch of white hair. His return from death had yet to occur, but Gabriel’s was well underway. His body jerked as he coughed and lifted his head, trembling and gasping for air, he shot up and met Paige’s gaze. The fragrant smell of sandalwood filled the courtyard as she absorbed his electric green eyes–confused, bloodshot and beautifully tormented. Michael lost control of the crowd as they turned and stared at Gabriel, their film at their feet, their eyes transfixed and their mouths wide open. Silence gripped the moment until a man’s voice shouted Gabriel’s name and crashed through the sea of costumes. Dressed in a designer suit with short dark hair, he charged past Michael and fell to his knees beside Gabriel, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him close. Paige moved out of the way and turned to see a deep red glow surrounding Michael as he regained control of the masses.

“Show’s over people. Forget what you saw and move on out, paramedics included.” Obeying like a herd of circus animals, the onlookers turned and filed into the three adjoining clubs leaving their film on the ground without looking back. The paramedics trailed behind two stragglers whose slow pace prompted Michael to call them out.

“Unless Bozo wants to meet the real Grim Reaper, I suggest you two hurry it along, you’re holding up the line. I hear the ambulance is double-parked.”

Gabriel clung to his father and hid his face against his chest until the courtyard cleared and the crowd dispersed. Ashley cradled his son and brushed the hair from his eyes, cupping his face and rubbing his arms before draping his suit jacket around his shoulders. He demanded to know what happened but Gabriel only shook his head and glanced at Paige with frightened eyes. Trembling in his father’s arms, he turned away and stared into the shadows of a fat oak tree over-hanging the wrought-iron fence. He flinched and attempted to stand, his limbs failing him as he fell back into his father. Ashley caught his weight and calmed his troubled mind.

Paige caught the weight of her own troubled mind. Crouching down on the wet ground, she covered her face and silently cried into her hands. The deed was done. Come tomorrow or the next day, she’d have to reveal her hand and confess her altercation with fate, but how could they understand? How could they know what the future held and how could they ever believe her story? The updated version of the medicine didn’t exist yet, but the recipe, wrapped in thin plastic, remained safe in her pocket. Wiping her face, Paige lifted her head and looked at her twin brother, the blue tint erased from his tanned skin and his out-of-control hair beautifully wet and tangled. She hoped he could forgive her. Ashley and Michael knelt by his side bombarding him with a thousand questions for which he held no answers, but his frightened eyes looked to Paige every few seconds. She turned away from Gabriel, brushed herself off and stood to fetch him some water until the shadows from the oak tree stopped her.

Standing against the wrought-iron fence, a tall woman with long blonde hair watched them from the shadows. Translucent yet solid, she camouflaged herself, melded into the fence with only an outline of her frame visible, but her stark blue eyes deceived her. Paige attempted to read her mind until a sharp pain pierced her forehead and a female’s voice intoned, you’re in over your head, Paige. Gabriel’s mine. The tall blonde stepped forward, separating herself from the iron fence as her full body became visible and her tight black clothing flaunted her perfect curves. She darted. Slipping through the closed gate and disappearing around the corner, the woman defied physics and moved like water through a solid object. Paige yelled out after her, slamming her body against the iron fence before finding the latch and opening the gate. She raced down the street in a futile attempt to track her down, but the woman could be anywhere, she could be anyone, or anything. She stopped to catch her breath and smiled when a familiar voice called out after her.

“Hey! What gives?”

“You didn’t see her?” she asked, turning to face Michael.

“See who?”

“The woman,” she said. “One of them. I think she poisoned Gabriel.”

Michael stared at her through unreadable eyes and calmly demanded an explanation. Hesitating, Paige attempted to clarify things in her head before offering a believable answer. She wanted to tell him the whole truth, but unable to speak the words aloud, she supplied a half-truth instead. Michael listened as she explained how the woman slipped something into Gabriel’s drink, to which he suffered a severe reaction and convulsed on the pavement. Paige called the paramedics and they arrived just in time, saving his life.

Michael pursed his lips and scratched his head. “You sure that’s the story you’d like to stick with?” he asked.

“Why? What do you think happened?”

“I don’t know,” he answered, “Alain’s hard to read sometimes. Got something in your pocket?”

“Yes.”

“Is it a recipe?”

“How do you–”

Michael held up his hand, “Later.”

The rain cleared the streets as every bar on Bourbon reached maximum capacity. Painted faces melted away into normality with smeared makeup exposing their true identity. Paige and Michael returned to the courtyard where Ashley and Gabriel stood waiting. Father and son reunited, unaware of their separation and naïve to the awful fate that almost played out again, Paige felt the change reverberate through time and space. Her twin brother reclaimed his spot in the universe and once again graced the earth with his delicate charm, his strength gaining traction but still dependent on his father’s arm. She wiped her eyes and thought about the future, the place where Ashley eternally mourned his deceased son, the place where anger and sorrow consumed him, she hoped he felt the change. She hoped things were different now, that Gabriel appeared in the blink of an eye and Abbey no longer inspired grief, but she had her doubts. Paige didn’t know what the future held, despite her short-lived visit, she wondered how many detours or alternate paths veered from the main timeline, but she knew she was home, a bitter-sweet return.

Gabriel leaned against his father as they left the courtyard and crossed the street onto Royal leaving Bourbon to the rain-soaked crowds. Ashley held close to his son, hugging his shoulder and helping him along as they walked towards the yellow shotgun house two blocks away. Paige followed behind, rejuvenated by the rain and the freshness in the air, but homesick for the future. In a cruel twist of fate or just plain irony, she felt alone and out of place, it never ends, she thought. She’d have to come clean, but regretted nothing. Gabriel was alive, and with the remedy held safe in her pocket, death no longer posed a threat. She’d have to come clean, but not tonight.

The others moved between realms. Where past and future collided with the present, the others possessed the ability to move through the walls of time and space. Paige agreed with the blond-haired woman, she knew she was in over her head, but that wouldn’t stop her from trying to expose their agenda. Things have already changed, she thought. Ashley returned early from New York, Alain failed to poison Gabriel, and Vincent’s game-changing discovery would now be unveiled a year early. She figured they had a chance at saving the future, with Gabriel by her side and new insight into how the agenda would play out, she retained a sliver of hope and vowed to fight to the death, for the future, sure, for humanity, of course, but most of all, for her beloved twin brother. Gabriel looked back as he turned the corner and Paige cherished the moment. Fear lurked behind his eyes and confusion drenched his face, but he was authentic, a beautiful mess with a reckless spirit and a tender heart–they can’t have him, she thought, and turned the corner behind him. A familiar voice penetrated her mind as she slowed her pace and strolled down the narrow sidewalk.

Hey, Paige, let me ask you something, am I still hot in the future?

She turned and stared at Michael as he walked up behind her with a proud grin. Tears streamed down her face as she returned the smile and replied, you’re still obnoxious. Michael wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close as she cried on his shoulder and pinned herself against his chest. He stroked her hair and gently swayed back and forth, the light drizzle catching in his hair and glistening under the streetlamp. Sirens howled into the night chasing the call of another emergency, but Paige took comfort knowing Gabriel was only a short distance away. Reluctant to leave Michael’s embrace, she talked into his chest and asked what he knew, exactly.

“I know you’ve been on quite a journey,” he answered. “I suspect we’ll be visiting my father tomorrow?”

She nodded into his chest. They walked together towards the yellow shotgun house where an old white van sat parked on the curb. Michael held her hand and stomped through the puddles, splashing water onto her black canvas shoes and whistling a familiar tune about an artist named Andy. Two lone flamingoes passed them on the other side of the street and Michael called out after them, “Hey, where’s your flock?” She laughed and ran to catch up with Gabriel leaving Michael behind with the drunken birds.

Gabriel stood on the porch smoking a cigarette and leaning against his father. The protective guardian to a son who required around the clock surveillance, Ashley stood behind him with his arms draped across his shoulders. Thankful for the rain, Paige wiped her face and skipped up the steps. Looking her over, Gabriel pushed himself off his father, grabbed her arms and held them up to her side.

“You don’t look like a vampire nurse,” he said.

Paige smiled and forced her arms down. “Yeah, uh, that was a stupid idea. I decided to go as a time-traveler instead.”

“Past or future?” he asked, but turned away before she could respond. He pounded on the front door of his house impersonating a police officer, snickering when Billy’s panicked face peaked through the curtains. The smell of chicory coffee filled the air as he unlocked the door and stood before Gabriel with crossed arms, his short brown beard a shadow of its future self. Michael arrived on the porch and moved Gabriel out of the way, grabbing his waist, pulling him back and beaming at the sound of his laughter. Ashley caught his son and scolded Michael for his playful antics. Cupping Gabriel’s forehead, he then felt his cheeks and slipped off his jacket. Stained with blood and ripped at the sleeve, the green army coat stayed behind, hung out to dry and abandoned on the front porch as they filed inside.