chapter 17
We strolled along the river, drawing closer to the oldest part of town. The buildings weren’t run-down, exactly, but they weren’t as sharp and expensive as the buildings on the other side of town. This was where the working class lived. It wasn’t a ghetto or anything, but there was definitely less money on this side of the river.
I’ve always thought this area of the roadside park was more attractive than the one downtown. There were less people and the scenery was more natural, more relaxing. On the weekends, the place would be filled with kids, but on evenings like this, the park was empty. I glanced at the bright pinky-peach sun sinking toward the horizon. It was still daylight, but it wouldn’t be for much longer. The afternoon was lit by a golden glow as the sun sank behind the trees. I breathed in the warm, sun-scented air. I appreciated the sun’s beauty, but I was happy to see it sinking lower in the sky by the second, relieving my discomfort.
We moved as one toward the lone figure on the swing set. This was my first time leading the hunt, but it was instinctive. Peter was with me and his aura fed my hunger.
The woman didn’t notice us at first, too caught up in her own personal drama. Emotion stirred in the air, complicated and delicious. Reading the chemical and energy signals humans give off was still hard for me. It’s not something you develop immediately. It was as if I had been given a complicated GPS device. Sure, I had the capability to find anything I needed- but I had to figure out how to work the damn thing first. I was still learning to interpret what I was sensing.
The woman on the swing was a swirl of conflicting feelings, but the smell of tears was pretty obvious. I paused, my morals warring with my hunger. She was crying, for cripe’s sake. Peter took my hand. “What do you feel?”
The woman looked up, blond hair falling back to reveal bright blue eyes- one of which was ringed in an ugly red that would soon be a bruise. I compressed my lips. “Confusion?” I said, at a loss.
He raised his dark eyebrows and gave me a look. He tried, he really did, but sometimes my new teacher was a bit exasperated with my progress. He shook his head and took a step forward, dropping my hand.
“Hello Ma’am,” he said politely, a note of concern in his voice. “You seem upset. Is there anything we can do for you?” He gave her a kind smile and she sat up straighter, wiping the back of her hand across her eyes. She looked haunted.
“Oh, um… no. No thank you.” She said, awed by his appearance.
I took a step forward and plopped into the swing beside her. I pushed myself lazily, not looking at her. “Who hurt you?”
She was quiet for a minute. I mean, how often do complete strangers take note of someone and actually care what is going on? Most people would probably keep walking, afraid to interfere, or just too lazy to put forth the effort.
Her hand went to her eye then darted away as if she were afraid to call attention to it. Embarrassed, I thought, though I sucked at this whole reading emotions thing. “It’s nothing.”
I shrugged and slid off the swing. Peter was standing back, leaning against the leg of the swing set, arms crossed, gazing off into the distance. No matter how it might look to the casual observer, he was watching me. I took a deep breath. Aw hell.
I went to the woman and knelt in front of her. She stopped her swing, surprised. I gazed up into her puzzled blue eyes. I could imagine what she was thinking. The two strangers that had approached her were nice, but something wasn’t quite right about us. We were so beautiful. And we acted strangely. If she were very perceptive, she would be aware that she should be afraid, though she wouldn’t be able to figure out why, or quite manage to act on it. That would be our hormones silently lulling her into passivity.
I smiled kindly, with my lips closed. Concentrating for a second, I pulled my aura into play. I willed my power to wrap around her. Placing my hands on her shoulders, I stared into her big blue eyes, breathing with her, bringing her under.
When I thought I had her, I spoke quietly, my voice sliding into a lower, more soothing register. “I won’t hurt you,” I said calmly. Breathe in, breathe out. “What is your name sweetheart?” Breathe in, breathe out. I could hear her heartbeat, steady and calm.
“Mary.” Her speech was flat. She was mesmerized, speaking in a daze. Good sign.
“What happened to you Mary?” In. Out.
“He hit me again.” A tremble there. A catch. “He’ll be pissed when I go back.”
I tightened my grip on her thin shoulders ever so slightly. “Breathe with me, Mary.” Breathe in, breath out. I had almost lost her for a moment there, but now she was back.
I stretched out my awareness to Peter, still standing silently on the sidelines. He was biting his tongue, I knew, impatient with me. I took a deep breath and Mary copied me without being told. I pulled her toward me and leaned in. She didn’t even react as I bit her. I’d practiced on Peter until I could bite without pain. As her blood filled my mouth, I connected with her aura. I closed my eyes and let myself sink in. I could stay separate from her thoughts if I really tried, but I wanted to know something.
She leaned forward weakly and I tightened my embrace to keep her from falling off the swing. Her aura was green. It was a cool, live thing like the grass and trees. I could feel her power filling me, and it was intoxicating. My body felt flushed and alive with vibrant energy. Mary sighed softly as she felt the echo of my pleasure. I pulled away for a moment to center myself, and to show Peter that I was okay. Breathe in. Breathe out. I sank my teeth again. I had to be careful not to lose myself. I pulled from her gently, half my attention on the rhythm of her heart. If it started to slow, I needed to stop immediately.
I closed my eyes again and let myself drift into her consciousness. Her husband was a creep. Of course, he was the one who hit her. He had gotten drunk again, trying to drown the fear of losing his job and having his life slowly fall apart. I’ve always wondered why a woman would let a man treat her that way, why she would keep going back to him after the first assault. Now I knew. She truly believed it was her fault. She felt like she had failed him. That she wasn’t good enough. That she deserved it. She loved him. Really loved him.
I retracted my fangs and gestured to Peter. My saliva didn’t have the healing ability that his did. I wouldn’t get that for a while. Just another reason why newbies needed mentors. He leaned in and licked the wound, closing the tiny punctures. I stood and dusted the gravel off my jeans. Then I took Mary’s hand. She was still under. Poor thing, she wasn’t even fighting it; it probably felt good to just go numb. I pulled her off the swing and brushed her hair back from her eyes. Peter was watching me with interest, but he didn’t say anything.
I looked into those bright blue eyes again and pulled on my aura as hard as I could. “Mary, you are a very strong woman.” I took a deep breath and planted a suggestion in her sub-conscience. “You will not let him hurt you. You are better than that; your life is worth more. You’re not a failure. You are amazing and you deserve love.” I squeezed her hand for emphasis. “You deserve love.”
She nodded, accepting my statements, and I refused to meet Peter’s eyes. “Where do you live?”
Mary took us to her little house, not far from the park. Her husband was quite surprised when she brought guests home with her. Peter had him under sway almost immediately, and it was his turn to feed. The beefy man’s longish, dark blond hair flopped forward over his eyes, giving him an innocent boyish look that I was pretty sure he hadn’t had since he was a child. He stared serenely into Peter’s eyes as his subconscious took on a few changes. I stood in the corner with Mary, smirking, as I watched the jerk get the personality change he so badly needed.
Peter’s vampire voice was a soft ripple in the quiet apartment, barely heard above the hum of the old refrigerator. “You will never hurt this woman or any other person again as long as you live.” The man, Josh, nodded. “You treasure her and respect her as a human being.” Josh sighed. “She loves you very much. You deserve her and you are worthy of her. You need to prove it with your actions. When we leave, you will dump out all of the booze in the house. Tomorrow you will make her breakfast. Then you will go get a job- anything will do. If you can’t find a job you’ll go down to the library and offer to volunteer reading stories to the children.” Another nod, and an angelic smile.
We corralled our respective meals onto the love seat and they snuggled up together like a couple of lovebirds. “In three minutes you will be yourselves again. We were not here. You will be filled with love and joy.”
We left and were a few blocks away by the time three minutes had passed. I slipped off my shoes and walked barefoot down the sidewalk, enjoying the texture beneath my feet. With my new energy coursing through me, I felt amazing. I glanced over at Peter. He wore a soft smile as he watched my antics. “What did you mean he’s worthy of her?” I asked.
He stopped and looked up at the old, peeling face of the brick building in front of us. “He has no self-worth. That’s why he drinks. And ultimately why he hits her.”
I came to stand and look up with him. There was a little mourning dove way up there, looking forlorn. “You saw it in his blood?”
He nodded. “It’s the same with so many people. That old adage about bullies is true. They’re just covering up their own weaknesses. His dad was a drunk, and his parents always told him he’d never amount to anything. They made him think no one would love him. He wanted to be an architect, but they beat him down. So he thinks he’s worthless. He’s angry at the world, but she just happens to be the closest target.” He sighed. “It’s not purposeful. He does love her. He just doesn’t know how to cope.”
I nodded. “So will they be okay? I mean- will they really be filled with love and joy and all that?”
All I got in response was an anti-climatic half-shrug. “I don’t know. They’ll be very happy for a time, but our suggestions won’t last forever. Eventually they will revert to their usual selves. I hope that the memory of the time that they were happy and in love will be enough to make them change. Who knows?”
I took his hand and we made our way back home. I wasn’t really surprised by Peter’s actions. He preferred to feed on people with problems. It sounded twisted at first, but in exchange for the life they gave us, we gave them something back. There was no guarantee we would make any lasting difference, but now I fully understood why he chose to live this way. It felt less monstrous when you were able to give them something in return. The idea occurred to me that maybe this was why Leah had been so set on Peter creating a child. She wanted him to teach others to live like this.
I thought of Mary’s big blue eyes, bright from crying, and I prayed that the woman who gave me the gift of life that was now coursing through my veins would live a long, peaceful life with the man she loved. For a moment, I could almost forget that I was a monster. However, I knew the nightmares would come again, and the feeling would be lost.
*****
I closed the bedroom door, pausing to let Taz’s wiry bulk ghost in behind me like a warm shadow. I leaned back against the door and slid down, pulling my knees to my chest and burying my face in my hands. Images of death and destruction played out over and over in my mind, remnants of my reoccurring dreams. I was tired, but I dreaded sleep. What’s more, I didn’t want Peter to hear me calling out as I slept. I didn’t want him to know that I was crazy. My chest clenched and my throat hurt with the strain of holding back sobs. Icy tears trailed down my cheeks, and I couldn’t stop their flow.
A wet nose wuffled under my arm, pushing insistently, and I finally gave in and let the eighty-pound beast crawl onto my lap. I stroked my fingers through his fur and bent forward to hug him close, burying my face against his soft ears as I let my heart pour out. Sadness and helplessness coursed through me like ocean waves, and I gave in to the tide of despair that was forever tugging at me. Who ever heard of a depressed vampire?
I breathed in the pleasant smell of dog- warmth, sunshine, and grass. Frustration and helplessness beat at me as I thought of the patterns in my life. I was doomed, it seemed, to always be a burden and a disappointment to someone. I had been a failed creation all my life. First as the daughter that faltered into a wheelchair-bound dependent, and now as the slow, dysfunctional vampire that would never live up the promise of the power she’d been given.
I had been a burden to my parents and sister. Now I was a burden to Peter. He was always kind about it, but I could see the worry in his eyes when he looked at me. That was the reason I hadn’t told him about the dreams. He didn’t need to know that I was even more messed up than he thought. A failed creation.
Peter seemed to hold out some hope that I would get better as I continued to adjust to my new body. I didn’t have his sense of optimism. What I knew and he didn’t was that the mental issues- the need for sleep, the horrifying dreams, the creeping feeling of unease and paranoia- were getting worse. Not better.
My silent sobs shook me as my tired mind ran over the same paths like a hamster in a cheap plastic wheel. There was no way to undo the me that existed now, just as there had been no way to undo the car accident that had left me damaged in the first place. I was utterly powerless to fix the pain in my life. And now I would have to live out eternity this way. Maybe I would completely descend into insanity and become even more of a burden. Maybe Peter would have to dispose of me. Then he would feel guilt and regret for the rest of his long, long life.
The fur under my face had grown damp and the dog started to wiggle and squirm. I reluctantly let him go and he sat up, his long, slender paws still braced on my legs. He perked his floppy ears forward and licked my face, not knowing why I was upset, but wanting to erase the traces of my hurt. I cuddled him close again, and he let me. He was eighty pounds of pure teddy bear, and the clenching in my chest finally eased.
Weary to my very bones, I stood and made my way to the bed. I was afraid I would only dream again, but I really wanted nothing more than to escape into the oblivion that sleep would grant. If the dreams didn’t come, I would have some respite from the feelings of guilt that were threatening to crush me. Taz leapt to his feet, tail wagging and ears cocked forward at a hopeful angle. I patted the bed in invitation and he vaulted up beside me. Circling three times, he flopped down and settled his head on my stomach with a doggie huff.
I gentled my fingers over his soft ears and to the less downy fur on his back. The last of my tension eased with the rhythmic touch, and I finally drifted off into oblivion, his warm weight a comforting anchor in the storm.