chapter 15
Every year, the hospital held a fall carnival. When Peter heard that they would be holding the event in the evening this year, he had agreed that I could attend. He kept me in sight, and his aura was always with me, dampening my will as I wandered in the lantern-filled twilight. I didn’t mind it, if it meant I could be here.
I studied the faces around me. Most of the participants were physically or cognitively disabled, and it was a treat for them to get out at night like this. I wanted to touch each and every one of them and feel the vibrant life humming within them. I wanted to hug them and tell them that I knew how they felt- that I had been there before. I knew they wouldn’t believe me. Not now. Not looking as I did, walking on my new legs, moving with the grace of a dancer. Being told, “I know how you feel,” or “I understand,” had been a pet peeve of mine for five long years. No one can know how you feel. They can guess. They can try to imagine. But unless you are me, in my mind and body at that exact moment, there is no possible way for you to know how I feel.
Looking around me, I felt like this was the end of something. I felt like I had reached some sort of turning point. The world before me wasn’t my world anymore. I was an outsider. The graceful, whole, outsider who came to visit now and then, but wasn’t a resident.
That thought should have made me dance with joy, and in many ways, it did bring me great happiness. However, in some small way I felt that I had lost something valuable. I’d lost my place in the world, for a second time. And now I had to find it, again. I saw Peter headed my way with a puffy cone of cotton candy, and I gave him a blinding smile. My place in the world- it had him in it, that was for sure.
He handed me the cotton candy. “It won’t taste the same,” he said with a shrug, “but I thought you might appreciate the gesture.”
I nodded. If I had been my old self, I would be bawling right now, overwhelmed by the intense flood of emotions experienced by those with a dysfunctional frontal lobe. As it was, my eyes watered and I sniffed a bit. Peter seemed to sense my mood without having to ask. He took me by the arm and led me around the carnival. We stopped and spoke with participants we passed. They seemed awed by us, and I hated it. A burning was starting, deep in my chest, crawling up toward my throat. True night was falling, and it was time to eat. I licked the last of the sticky spun sugar off my fingers before sliding into Peter’s car.
I slipped my hand into his free hand while he drove. “I love you,” I whispered softly.
He smiled. “It will get easier,” he said with surety. “You just have to find your feet again.” He lifted my hand, making the koi charm shift down my wrist. “I’m here for you. From now on, you are my sole purpose in life.”
Me and the coven, I thought sourly. Something wasn’t right there, and I could feel it in his mind, always with him. The thought sparked the memory of a nightmare, and I had to blink hard to erase the shadow of death from Peter’s softly smiling face. His smile faded. Maybe I wasn’t hiding my unease as well as I had thought.
*****
Dusk was deepening into blackness as we silently made our way down the deserted sidewalk. This part of town housed business offices, most of which were had closed hours before. The only people around would be the employees staying late to do paperwork or clean offices. My soft, leather ballet flats were silent as I lightly flowed up the steps to the psychology office. The door was locked, but a quick twist of the old knob remedied that problem.
The small waiting area in the front of the office was dark, but a soft glow beckoned from down the hallway. We padded toward Dr. Walton’s office as one, the scents of leather and ink filling my senses. I had guessed right. The dedicated psychologist was still here finishing his paperwork and reviewing his notes and treatment plans. The old man had his head bent over a file, busily making notes. He paused to drum his square fingers on the desk for a moment before closing the folder in front of him.
I slipped into his office behind Peter and quietly pulled the door closed, blocking the old man’s escape. Dr. Walton looked up at the soft click of the latch, and then went still in surprise. I gave him a cheery wave and took a slow step forward.
“Hey doc,” I said softly.
He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. Slipping them back on, he blinked at me like an owl. “Melody?” He shook his head. “Your mother said you were out of the country.”
I nodded. “I’m sorry to startle you,” I held up my hands in a gesture of peace. “I needed to talk to you, and I thought it would be best if no one else was around.
His perceptive blue eyes darted to Peter waiting patiently in the corner of the room, then back to me. The lines around the corners of his mouth deepened. “What is this?”
I paced across the room and pulled up a chair on the other side of the desk. Smiling, I gestured toward Peter. “This is my boyfriend…” The psychologist cut me off.
“Peter.” He took a deep breath and eyed Peter wearily. It wasn’t every day your patient just showed up after dark in the company of a strange man, and walking on legs that shouldn’t work.
Peter stepped forward and offered his hand amiably. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Walton,” he said sincerely. “Melody speaks highly of you.”
The doctor took the proffered hand and gave it a cursory shake before settling back in his chair. “What do you want from me?” he asked, direct as always. I think that’s why I had always liked him so much. He never beat around the bush.
I took a deep breath. “Well,” I began hesitantly. “As you can see, I’ve gotten better.”
He snorted in disbelief. “Gotten better? Brain injuries don’t just get better.” Judging from his expression, he didn’t know what to think. He tried to frown, but the corners of his mouth kept turning up as he stared at me, his logic and caution struggling against joy at my appearance.
I nodded. “You’re right. But mine did.”
Peter put a hand on my shoulder. “Melody is a special case,” he said softly.
Dr. Walton shook his head. “And this is why you are here after hours?”
Peter plopped a folder of doctored records on the desk in front of Dr. Walton. The man arched an eyebrow at him suspiciously, but opened the file. He paged through the records, his brows drawn together and lips pursed. The ticking of his desk clock was loud in the silent office. Finally, he leaned back, lacing his fingers over his middle and regarding us both as if we were errant children. “This isn’t real,” he said with surety. Then, when neither of us replied, “but it might fool some people.”
I leaned forward and braced my forearms on the desk. “We need your help,” I said earnestly.
Peter spoke from beside me. His voice was even and compelling, but he wasn’t using his powers to persuade the man. We had agreed not to force him. “Melody needs some help adjusting,” he said frankly. “If you agree to help her, you would be in on our…secret.”
Dr. Walton glanced at me in sudden understanding. “Which would put me in some kind of danger. If you tell me, you have to kill me- something like that?”
I laughed, startling him, and he twitched in his seat. “We aren’t threatening you,” I said honestly. “You just need to know that what we are about to tell you is extremely confidential.”
Peter cleared his throat. “If you agree to help us, you would be signing a contract. You would be involved in a very secretive branch of the government. You would have the opportunity to help with their research, but only under strict terms of confidentiality.” Secretive though they were, vampires did interact with some humans out of necessity. Most important fields- namely medical, scientific, and military- had a vampire branch, whether the humans knew it or not. When I was a human, I hadn’t given any weight to conspiracy theorists. Maybe I should have paid more attention.
The doctor puffed out his cheeks and drummed his blunt fingers on the desk. I tried to keep from fidgeting while he considered the undercurrents running around him. Finally, he let his breath puff out. “Okay,” he said suddenly. “What the hell. Let’s have it.”
Peter chuckled, and I let out my own held breath. “Thank you,” I said happily. “You will be able to help so many people.”
The old man looked at me doubtfully, but didn’t protest. “So how is it that this miracle occurred?” he said calmly. “Highly experimental stem cell research, the documents say… but what was it, really?”
I glanced at Peter and he nodded. “Do you believe in vampires, Doctor?” I smiled at the absurdity of my own question.
Dr. Walton arched his eyebrows in surprise. “Of all the crazy things I was expecting to come out of your mouth, Melody, that was not even a consideration.”
We explained to him exactly how I had been healed. He took it all in stride, as I had hoped he would. He wasn’t one to fight what was right before his eyes. “So you see,” I said excitedly. “I need help adjusting to all of these changes.”
“Many new vampires have difficulty maintaining control and keeping a sense of themselves when they are changed. Until now, the solution has always been to relocate them or cover up their…slips,” Peter explained. “No one has really addressed the issue in quite this way before.” As if it was simply an injury or a medical change.
Dr. Walton laughed. “So I am the first government appointed vampire shrink?” He guffawed. “Of all the…” He sighed. “I guess we should start soon. I’ll need to learn from you so that I can help the others.” He pulled his datebook forward and grabbed a pencil.