Shades of Red

by T L Christianson

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  This March morning, Owen took the kids to the rec-center in town. I was watching TV in my little attic room when I heard Flor scream and cry out. I jumped up and raced down the stairs to the second floor where I followed the excited yelling.

  The rapid beating of the housekeeper's heart had me worried, and as I entered the bedroom, she hid something behind her back.

  “Oh, Dios mío!” Her face was flushed, and she turned away from me, talking to herself in Spanish.

  “Flor? What’s going on?” I carefully entered the room and rested my hand on the bedpost. The scent of Owen’s soap still lingered in the air, and I wondered what she’d found.

  “Tell me,” I insisted.

  Her face was flushed, and her mouth formed a line, even though her eyes smiled. “Is a ring.” She bit her lip and held the small velvet box out to me.

  “Why are you so excited to find the anillo de Sarah?” Why was she so excited to find Sarah’s wedding ring?

  “Porque, no es el anillo de Sarah. Is not Sarah’s ring.”

  “Oh?” I took the box from her, along with a folded-up piece of paper. When unfolded, I realized it was a receipt. A recent receipt, from early January, with an amount at the bottom that made my jaw drop. I tipped the lid of the box open and exclaimed, “Bloody hell!”

  Before me sat the most beautiful ring I’d ever seen. It was a large cushion-cut ruby set in black gold. My hand shook as I lifted it from the slot and blinked my eyes.

  It was so unique and beautiful. I could hardly accept what I was seeing.

  “¿Para mi?” I asked the housekeeper.

  “Yes.” Her brown eyes twinkled in the dim room as we both looked between the ring, to each other and back. “Is different, like you.” Her statement hung in the air for a moment.

  She was more perceptive than I gave her credit for.

  I slid it onto my finger and bit my lip. “Maybe it’s not an engagement ring?”

  She shook her head, and I knew that no sane person spent that amount on a non-engagement ring.

  “But… maybe?” I reluctantly returned the jewelry to its box and closed the lid.

  Owen’s SUV turned onto the gravel driveway from the road, and I jerked toward the window before thrusting the ring and receipt back at Flor. “They’re here!”

  “Vete!” She made a shooing motion, and I ran back to my room, my heart racing.

  I loved Owen, but I had never thought marriage a possibility.

  Pulling my knees up to my chest, I chewed on my thumbnail.

  Marriage. Marriage?

  Did I want this? It was ridiculous.

  Could this work? What about in ten, twenty years?

  This was ridiculous. It was an amazing, wonderful, and beautiful dream… but ridiculous.

  I sighed and hugged my pillow to my chest.

  Could we make this work?

  I keep thinking about the ring.

  Owen had bought it when we were broken up, which meant he must be waiting for a particular moment. I couldn't imagine that he'd hold onto it if he'd changed his mind.

  Could he have changed his mind?

  We've been so happy, but knowing the ring was there had me off balance. I'd decided that I wanted to be with him, married or not.

  A time would come for me to leave, but I didn't want to think about that.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chronos Corp sent their jet to bring Owen to New York, and I was tagging along again.

  Driving up to the airport, he tapped his fingers on his messenger bag and ran his hands through his hair in agitation. He was going to have to show his bosses and colleagues everything he'd tried and done, everything that failed.

  "So, why are they making you come all this way? Why send the jet to fetch you?" I asked after we boarded the plane.

  "They want my samples." He shook his head and pressed his lips together. "They're gonna take my work." A heavy sigh escaped him. "Take it and give it to someone else."

  "I'm sorry," I whispered.

  For Owen, finishing his own projects was a matter of pride. I could tell that it ate away at him, eroding his self-esteem and confidence. So, when we were given some drinks from the cabin crew, I used my fingernail to cut my skin. I watched a few drops of my blood fall into his coke zero.

  After all, it could only help, right?

  We didn't talk for most of the flight, sitting in uneasy silence.

  I felt helpless watching Owen grow more restless the closer we got to New York. When the flight landed, a town car waited to take us to headquarters.

  During the drive, Owen tapped his fingers on the ice chest. Tap tap, thump thump. Over and over again, until I covered his hand with my own.

  "Stop, it's going to be okay. Just get through this." I felt helpless in the face of his agitation.

  Staring out the window at the cars surrounding us, he let out a sardonic breath.

  Thump thump, tap tap. I stilled his fingers again and brought his hand to my lips, kissing his knuckles.

  "I'll tell you about my friend Isa. She was from France. My mother hired her to be my ladies’ maid. At nineteen, she was young, but so was I. She took care of me, my clothes, hair, and dresses. She packed for me and unpacked…" I trailed off. "Before the first war, my parents' house had dozens of servants, but afterward, we were left with only a handful." I looked over at him to see if my rambling had taken his mind off at least some of his troubles.

  His brow was still furrowed, and his jaw was ticking.

  When I didn't continue, he turned toward me. "I'm sorry, I just can't concentrate."

  I stroked his hair. "It's okay."

  The Chronos Corp building seemed to loom in our future, and I swear that drive took twice as long as it normally would've.

  Owen's mind churned like a bucket full of rocks, and all I could do was watch. It took my own mind off my interview, for which at the time I should've been more grateful.

  When we finally came to a stop, the driver opened the door, and I stepped out, taking the ice chest from Owen.

  He strode into the building like a man headed for the gallows.

  Doormen greeted Owen when we approached. "Good afternoon, Dr. Bennett."

  We entered the building, and everyone in the large, vaulted entry was Moroi. The receptionist, the security guards… everyone except for Owen.

  A large, old painting captured my attention, and I stepped toward it, mesmerized. A bearded man stood, muscular arms folded, feet apart in defiance. In one hand, he held a scythe and the other an hourglass. He had large angel-like wings and a baby at his feet. I stood in awe, before reading the plaque below it.

  Chronos, God of Time (1698)

  The symbolism of Moroi as Gods sickened me. I wondered if vampires were the impetus for the Greek Gods, or if it was simple symbology.

  The painting was terrifying and beautiful, as well as sexy and dangerous.

  Owen had to nudge me to break my attention away from the mesmerizing figure.

  We both signed in, and I listened while given directions as to where to go. Owen and I rode the elevator to my stop. He gave me one last lingering look as the doors closed.

  I sighed resignedly and followed signs to the "Census Ministry – Global Council."

  Entering the office, checking in again at reception, I took my seat to wait for my meeting.

  "Do you need to fill out the paperwork, or have you done it online?"

  I smiled at the male receptionist. "I did it online."

  "Oh, good, then it should be pretty quick." He sat back down, and the high desk hid him from view.

  When I was told to go in, I sat opposite of a business-attired vampire who looked at my paperwork and then at me. "Emilie Edwards? Nice to meet you." She held out a cool hand. "I'm Rhoda Black. I know this is all new, but I'm glad that we came across you to get you all settled within the community. You're joining the Chronos Clan, I presume?" She handed me a cloth bag. "I just wanted to clarify
a few things with you, go over some of our laws, and make sure that you understand what is expected of you, and what to do in case of emergencies… etcetera."

  Her warm chestnut hair bobbed as she spoke. "I work for the Global Assembly, which is kind of like a United Nations for us Moroi."

  "Chronos Clan," I repeated, backing up. "Do I have to join a clan right now?"

  Nodding, she shuffled some paperwork on her desk. "Yes, I'm afraid it's mandatory. You see, we can't have rogue vampires just prowling around."

  "Oh, okay."

  She turned back to her computer. "So, you don't know who your maker is?"

  I shook my head. "No, it's like I said, he abandoned me. I don't think he even knew he made a vampire."

  "And this was France, 1916?"

  "Belgium."

  Studying me for a moment, she then tapped at the keys, entering something into her computer. "Okay, and you don't remember what battle, or what town you were near?"

  Pursing my lips, I shook my head. "No. I was a volunteer with the VAD." I raked what was left of my human memory, trying to squeeze every little drop of information into my words. "Mrs. Black, I didn't know I was a vampire at first. I had very little blood during the month after being made, so everything from that time is a little fuzzy."

  Her face remained impassive as she tapped at her keyboard. "All right." Then she looked up at me again. "Actually, your story is not that rare for many rogue vampires who survive." She took a sip of water and cleared her throat. "Well, most of your registration was done online, so now we're going to go over some basic intake questions for Chronos."

  "Are you going to ask me if I've exposed the existence of vampires?" I chewed my thumbnail.

  "No," she laughed. "Only conspiracy theorists and nut jobs believe in vampires. We're not going to get exposed any time soon."

  "Really?"

  "Yes, really."

  "What about all the legends and stuff?"

  She raised an eyebrow. "Well, as you know, most of them are a…" her bracelets jangled as she motioned with her hand, "distraction… except for silver, but I probably don't need to tell you that."

  "Hmmm." I pressed my lips together.

  "Everything you need is in that packet I gave you."

  I pulled out a few of the pamphlets. "How to cope with an eating disorder? What services to call when you know it's time to move on to a better place?" My voice tilted up into a question.

  "It's all in metaphors."

  I wrinkled my nose. Great.

  She pulled up another screen on her computer. "What's the source of the blood you consume?"

  "Animal."

  She nodded. "Smart, with the plague going around."

  I agreed.

  "How much do you drink regularly, and how often?"

  "Three to five ounces every two or three days."

  "Any biological children?"

  The side of my mouth quirked up, and I shook my head.

  "Have you had blood taken forcibly by anyone, human or Moroi?"

  "No."

  "Have you forcibly taken any blood from another Moroi?"

  "No."

  "Have you taken blood from any human under the age of eighteen?"

  "No."

  I knew she didn't need her list, although she checked it anyway, entering my answers. "Have you given a human or Moroi any of your blood to consume?"

  I hesitated. "Only to help them."

  She looked up and raised her eyebrows. "Oh? Okay." She typed a comment into her keyboard. "We'll come back to that one. Have you compelled anyone for any reason other than to take a non-lethal amount of blood?"

  "No."

  "Have you compelled anyone under eighteen?"

  I looked down and swallowed. "Uh… maybe."

  She laughed. "Don't worry, we've all done it." She flipped through my paperwork. "You're employed as a… teacher?" I nodded. "Okay, so basically have you compelled your charges to commit a crime or do anything that they wouldn't normally do? Anything illegal or…?" She left the question open.

  I looked up, eyes wide. "No, just to stop fighting, or to do their school work."

  Her chest shook a bit with mirth. "Okay, yeah, that's fine."

  She continued with the list. "Have you compelled law enforcement?"

  I thought of the cop who handcuffed me and lied, "Nope."

  "Have you killed anyone, accidentally or on purpose?"

  "No."

  "Have you turned or changed anyone?"

  "No."

  "Okay, so now back to blood consumption…" Her mouse scraped on her desk as she scrolled upward on her computer. "You said you've given someone your blood to consume?"

  "Yes, but like I said, it was to help heal him."

  "Moroi or human?"

  "Human."

  "Oh?" This seemed to surprise her. "Date? Name?"

  "December twenty-second to now, Dr. Owen Bennett." I bit my lip and noticed that her demeanor shifted, so I added, "Just a little. He was working such long hours."

  "Amount?"

  "A few drops in his drinks." I didn't want to get Owen into trouble. "And Owen, Dr. Bennett, doesn't even know, I was just…"

  "Helping him?" Her nostrils flared, and she sighed. "How many times have you given him your blood?" Her hands hovered over the keyboard.

  My eyes burned. "A few times."

  "Specifically," she asked me warily.

  I swallowed and blinked. "Umm… seven…" then I remembered the plane, "no eight."

  She narrowed her eyes. "Hmm… I'll be honest this isn't good. You're only allowed to give a human blood up to two times a month to prevent side effects. What you've done here is a violation, giving him blood eight times within two months."

  Shit. I worried my lip and shook my head. "I didn't know… He was so thin and pale." I bit my lip and felt one hot tear run down my cheek. I swiped it away.

  She tilted her head. "Stop that nonsense." Ms. Black handed me a box of tissues, sighed, then shook her head. "Giving a human blood bonds them to you. It makes them easier to control. Some say it takes away their free will."

  I narrowed my eyes and stared her down, a smile curving my lips. "You're kidding, right? Like, this is some kind of hazing ritual?"

  Gravely, she shook her head.

  Thinking about Owen, a terrible feeling went down my body. Did none of it really count? Had I manipulated our relationship?

  The looks he gave me?

  The love I saw in his eyes?

  Had I forced him to love me?

  Since I began giving him my blood, he'd spent less and less time in his lab, and more time with me. Teaching me how to fight… making love to me.

  "Oh, my god!" I gasped and covered my mouth with my hands.

  I'd forced him to make me part of his family.

  I had always wanted a family, and I forced my way in.

  A cold chill ran down my spine and seemed to freeze my skin. I hugged myself after wiping my face with a tissue.

  Owen hadn't loved me.

  I’d used him.

  I’d forced him.

  I blinked and swallowed, trying to push back my guilt. My nose tingled with emotion, and I closed my eyes.

  The phone on Ms. Black's desk rang, and she picked up the receiver. "This is Rhoda Black." She looked up at me, listening to the other voice on the line.

  Chronos Security was coming to take me into custody.

  "All right. Thank you," Rhoda told the voice on the other end.

  We sat there in uncomfortable silence for over a minute. "Can I go? Am I done?" I asked nervously.

  I was in shock over what I had learned, and now security was coming to get me?

  Ms. Black gave me a forced smile. "Not quite yet. We're just waiting for Mr. Malone, who will take you where you need to go."

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Three Chronos Corp Security officers entered the small office and surrounded me.

  They didn’t look like security.

 
They looked like the police.

  “Emilie Edwards, you are under arrest for colluding with terrorists.” He took a paper from Mrs. Black. “And it looks like you have more charges being brought against you… ahh… manipulating a human.”

  They pulled my wrists behind my back and secured me in handcuffs, before telling me my rights as a member of the Chronos Clan.

  I was never calm. I was a crier, I knew, but I was calm. I didn’t feel anything but emptiness and disgust for myself. For my maker, and for not knowing what giving my blood to Owen would do.

  The Moroi Security Center was located on the first floor. I wasn’t too worried until I was led down into the bowels of the building and placed into a holding cell with other female vampires.

  Sitting down on the concrete bench, I held my head in my hands. I wanted to escape. I wanted to run away.

  My happiness had been an illusion. I’d been waiting for the storm to hit and now it had.

  A few other women sat around me on the benches, but I ignored them.

  After an hour or two, I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. I stood and called out to the guard on duty.

  “Sir? Sir!”

  He strolled over to the bars, and I gripped the cold metal before realizing it was silver coated.

  Flinching in pain, I called out, “I have to speak to Owen Bennett. He works here. Will you please see if I can speak to him?”

  The dark-haired officer looked toward the door he’d entered, and he answered me in a heavy Bronx accent, “Are you Emilie? He’s actually here, talking to my supervisor. He your lawyer?” He gave me an amused look. “A human?”

  “No, he’s my boyfriend.”

  He snorted at that and used his key card to leave the room. I ran my hands over my hair, trying to smooth my curls down when I bumped into a skinny blonde vampire with crooked teeth.

  “Excuse me,” I said and sidestepped her.

  She stepped along with me and gave me a catlike smile, talking in her nasal voice. “Not so fast. Who do you think you are?”

  I looked around the room at the other women, but none seemed eager to involve themselves.