Survivor (23 page)

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.

P
eter watched
Melody as she walked barefoot down the sidewalk.  A smile tugged at the corner
of his mouth as she played a game of “don’t step on the cracks,” as if she were
a child.  It was still surreal to see her moving so freely.  He caught her hand
in his, pulling her to a stop so he could claim that soft mouth with his.  She
pressed against him, all lush curves, and supple softness.  He smoothed a hand
over her ample backside and she giggled, dashing away up the street.  Her golden
brown hair glinted in the streetlights, making her look like an angel, haloed
in light. 

He
caught up to her, and gave her a mischievous leer, but his teasing expression
faded at the sight of her face.  Her smile was back almost instantly, but it was
thin and forced, just a bit too wide, a bit too bright.  “C’mon,” she said
lightly, skipping ahead.

Peter’s
steps slowed as he considered what to do.  When she had been human, her
weaknesses were so straightforward.  If she couldn’t stand, he could lift her
up.  If she couldn’t run, he could carry her on his back.  But now, since her
change, he felt helpless.  She tried to hide it, but there was a sadness in her
eyes, sometimes bordering on terror.  If he asked, she would only deny it, but
he noticed that she seemed most disturbed when she was looking at his face.