Survivor (20 page)

I sniffed and sat up straighter.  “That’s just the
thing,” I said desperately.  “I don’t think they are weaknesses, I think I’m
different.  I think I have…”

He cut me off again, taking my hands, his voice
pleading.  “Don’t tell me that either- don’t tell me your strengths.”  He
pulled me to him in a crushing hug, as if he could keep me together just by
sheer strength alone.

His desperate reaction was scaring me, so I made a
huge effort and pulled myself together.  “I can’t breathe,” I gasped, jokingly.

“You don’t have to.”  Haine squeezed me tighter for
a minute, but I knew he was only teasing.  He let me go and stood, bending to
offer me his hands.  I took them, letting him pull me to my feet. 

“I’m sorry,” he said calmly.  “I overreacted.  You
just startled me.”

I waved away his concern.  “
I’m
sorry.”  I
shrugged, feeling awkward.  “I don’t want to burden Peter by letting him know
that I’m struggling.  So I unloaded on you.”

Haine ruffled my hair.  “You should tell Peter what
is bothering you.  If he doesn’t know, then he can’t protect you.”

I crossed my arms and gave him a mutinous look.  “I
don’t want to have to be protected.”

He sighed.  “You really have no understanding of
what it means to be a man.”

I frowned at up at him, thinking chivalrous looked
good on him.  But that didn’t mean I wanted Peter to act that way.  “This is
not the eighteenth century.  I am not a damsel in distress.”

Haine scooped up his borrowed books from the floor,
where they had fallen when he snatched me out of my chair.  “It doesn’t
matter.  When you love someone with all your heart, you will do anything to
protect them.”  He held up a hand to stall my protests.  “I know it sounds
cheesy, but it’s true.”  He gave me a sad look, and I wondered who it was that
he loved so desperately, but couldn’t protect.  “Put yourself in his shoes for
a minute.  If it were Peter struggling, would you want to be completely
oblivious to his hardship?”

I gave him a look, but didn’t say anything. 
“Besides, you
are
vulnerable.  If he doesn’t know just what is going on,
then he might be unable to help you at a crucial moment.  He’s already been
responsible for your death once.  Don’t make him go through it again, for real
this time.  Like it or not, you
need
a protector.”

I felt chastised.  “Fine,” I grumped.  “But look at
how you reacted when I tried to tell you!’”

His whole manner changed.  Suddenly he went from
treasured and loving friend, to cold and distant monster.  “I’m serious,
Melody.”  His voice was so soft a human wouldn’t have been able to hear him. 
“Never,
ever
, speak to me again about your abilities or lack thereof.” 
His eyes met mine and I felt a bit of compulsion behind his words.  “Never.”

I shivered a bit and dropped my gaze.  “Fine.” 
Geez,
what an asshole
.  Apparently, I had violated some kind of unspoken vampire
rule. 

He ruffled my hair again, and his voice returned to
normal.  “Thanks for the books.  I can’t wait to read them.”  His smile was
back in place and all hint of power was gone.  I saw him out, then locked the door,
and vowed not to open it again for anyone.

E
very 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.