Shades of Red

by T L Christianson

  “You don’t need to examine us. I’ve studied both of us and have been keeping logs.”

  His jaw clenched, his eyes darted around me.

  I waited.

  When he finally spoke, I listened.

  “I’m sorry I freaked out about you being here. It’s just… It was easier to let people think you’d died. So, it’s weird that you’re actually here.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “What? So, you told Elaine, Flor… everyone that I died? What the fuck Owen? Seriously?”

  He pursed his lips and shrugged. “I never said those exact words, but I never corrected it.”

  “Well,” I said, “One of us will have to compel them and make them think something else.” He avoided my gaze. “Okay, I guess it’ll be me.”

  “Yeah…” He pulled on his neck with one hand, “I’m barely grasping the change as is. I haven’t even tried to figure out how to do that mind control stuff yet.”

  “Thank the stars!” I told him and laughed. “I’m not doing it to the kids though. You need to talk to them, but the others… I’ll make them think I was sick and we divorced.”

  Nodding, he stood. “That’s close enough to the truth.”

  “Yeah, or what you should’ve just told everyone in the beginning.”

  At least he had the decency to look chagrined.

  “Does your girlfriend know I’m alive? If she’s going to be in your life, she’s going to find out eventually.”

  “Maybe that’ll make us even.”

  “How’s that?”

  “She’s kept some pretty big secrets from me also.”

  I breathed out a laugh and picked at some loose paint on the railing. “I’ve heard.”

  His head jerked up toward me, “What?”

  “Hazel told me when she defended Emilie in court. You know she looked up her ex-husband in England.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t get all jealous, he's dead.” I pulled the hair band from my ponytail and rubbed my scalp.

  He picked at some peeling paint on the spindle also. “So, why come back? You could’ve just waited for the team to bring back samples or for me to bring them to you.”

  I took a sharp intake of breath before speaking. “Aurev thought it was time and he wanted me to double check your findings.”

  “I’m sick of Aurev. I’m sick of him dictating everything in my life. I’m sick of people hiding things from me. I’m sick of Moroi secrets.” He scoffed and ran his fingers through his hair.

  I remembered him doing that. It brought back memories of why I had loved him so much.

  “Are you talking about me? What have I hidden?”

  “You hid your Huntington’s disease.”

  I looked over at him. “I told you about it.”

  “I just thought you were asymptomatic. I learned recently that you’d been drinking Hazel’s blood for a long time to counteract the effects.”

  I shook my head. “Owen, this is crazy. I tried to tell you everything, but you were in such a crazed state that I don’t think any of it sank in.” I stretched my legs out in front of me. “I explained everything.”

  His golden-brown eyes pinned me down. “You explained everything after you were caught.”

  I smiled at his irritation. “Would you have believed me? Would you have believed that vampires existed and had raised me? That the people we worked for drank blood? That I was being treated for an incurable disease?” I scoffed.

  He nodded and sighed. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.”

  “So,” he said, “What about the kids? What exactly did they do to the kids?”

  “They?”

  “Chronos. The embryos. The fertility doctor?”

  “Oh my God, Owen! I feel like all we do is talk in circles. I told you everything I knew about that.”

  “I was in shock. You told me this crazy, ridiculous story after I caught you drinking Hazel’s blood, and then you went into labor. After that, you just up and left. I was blindsided.” His feet scraped on the step.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve told you I’m sorry about not telling you earlier. I think I just didn’t completely believe it myself.” I apologized again even though I felt like we’d done this too many times already. Maybe he just needed to hear it one more time.

  We sat in the quiet and listened to the wind as it blew through the trees. The creek, not too far away babbled as it tumbled through the forest.

  “Okay, the kids. Um… all I know is that Dr. Seals removed the HTT gene mutation.” I sighed. Aurev set it up for me, but I was afraid to tell Owen that.

  I looked over at my ex when he spoke, “You didn’t ask any questions? You’re a doctor, Sarah. I know you. I know you know more than this.”

  I bit my lip. “I honestly don’t. I know that they’re healthy, smart and…”

  Owen looked into the woods across the meadow, “They’ve never been sick. Crap, Sarah… kids are supposed to get sick.” His eyes met mine in alarm. “They have Moroi DNA, don’t they?”

  “I don’t know if they do or not.” I reached out to grab his sleeve. “I didn’t want them going through what I went through. All I wanted was for them to be healthy. No Huntington’s.”

  He shook me off. “You never had any symptoms.”

  I gasped. “Symptoms? You don’t remember all the dishes I accidentally broke?”

  “I don’t even know when you were diagnosed. You didn’t tell me.”

  “I didn’t want to scare you. We’d just gotten married. I was just waiting to be turned.”

  “You never said you wanted to be turned, ever.”

  “I couldn’t talk to you. You were so freaked out by everything Moroi. I thought we’d be able to talk beforehand.” I turned my locket in my fingers and opened it. “When I was eighteen, Aurev wanted to change me. He’s had the paperwork done since then.” I looked at the pictures in my hands. “I wanted children first. Now, I can’t even have that.”

  “I still don’t understand your problem. I mean, Emilie’s around the kids all the time. She’s fine. I’ve played with the kids, tucked them in at night, and I’m a new Moroi, I’m fine. They’re going to come back home as soon as Em is better.”

  This was one thing that I couldn’t get past with Owen. He could never understand things that he hadn’t been through.

  “It’s a real thing. Lots of Moroi struggle with bloodlust. Do you think I’m just making this up? Using it as an excuse?”

  He raised his brows in disbelief. “Bloodlust? All Moroi struggle with it. You just need to control yourself.”

  “Owen,” I gave him a deadpan look, “I’m working on it. If I could’ve stayed, I would’ve. You must know that. You must know how much I love the kids. You have to know how much it’s hurt me to be away…”

  He cut me off. “I don’t understand. I mean, Emilie was a vampire for a long time before she even realized what she was.”

  “Well, good for her,” I told him sarcastically. “Yee-fucking-ha.”

  With nothing I could do or say to change the last years, to fix myself, we sat there in silence. We were at an impasse.

  After a moment, Owen turned to me. “I’m not trying to fight you. I don’t want to argue anymore.”

  The fury had left us both.

  “Me neither,” I whispered.

  I think after all these years, both of us knew we were never going to fix what had been broken between us. We were never going to see eye to eye on our differences.

  Our marriage was over, and it had been for a very long time.

  Only, now I really understood it.

  Sitting there for a long moment, he finally spoke. “Will you come back in?” A wistful smile on his lips.

  I stood, sweeping dirt off my behind. “Sure.” As we began to walk into the house, I stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Have you heard of the Butcher?”

  I wanted to laugh at his severe but quizzical expression.

  �
�Wow, yeah. Crazy Moroi serial killer? Sure, why?” He asked.

  A grin broke out across my face. “I found him, well a P.I. I hired found him. I’ll stay here a little longer, but I’m going to meet him and get some answers. The rumors are that he created OVC.”

  His cold hand clasped my arm. “No, Sarah. Don’t. Give your info to HQ, let them send in a team to capture him.”

  “I don’t want him dead Owen, I want his secrets. He created something brilliant–deadly, but brilliant and I want to know how he did it.” I shook him off.

  “You’re going to get killed going after someone like that.”

  “I have Karsten, he’s going with me.” I pursed my lips.

  “Karsten?” he said resignedly, “He’s one guard. I suppose I can’t change your mind.” Owen’s words weren’t angry, just frustrated.

  I shook my head then followed him up onto the porch and sat down in the old wicker loveseat.

  I put my head in my hands when I heard the door close behind him.

  After several moments the door opened again, and Karsten came and knelt before me.

  "Are you good to stay or do we need to go?" He asked, touching my arms with his warm hands.

  Europeans definitely had a different sense of personal space. I’d noticed this with other foreigners, but with him, the intimacy filled an empty hole inside me.

  His hands sent warm threads needling through my skin to my core.

  I hated being treated as weak or fragile. I could take care of my own damn self.

  I chewed the inside of my cheek before shaking my head. "You said you had kids. I’m guessing you were married?"

  "Yeah, but it was a long time ago, " he brushed me off, his voice low and husky.

  "Tell me, does it get any better? After it's over?"

  He stood. "Time heals all wounds... If you let it."

  I nodded.

  Sten didn’t talk very much, so I was surprised when he continued, but I loved listening to his accent. "I know you feel like you have lost a lot, but this is only the beginning of your existence. The transition from human to Moroi is like a rebirth. You lose your human self but gain a new self. What you have lost shouldn’t define who you are." His warm hands slid over my shoulders. The cold air had a bite to it that I liked even as his warmth comforted me. “As Moroi, you are much more than you could ever have been as a human.”

  I studied his different colored eyes, noticing that there was a sliver of reddish-brown in his blue eye.

  It was true. He spoke the truth.

  “I’m fine. I’ll do what Aurev wanted me to do here, and then I’m going to Arkansas.”

  He raised an eyebrow as his only disagreement. “Okay.”

  Chapter Six

  Walking back into the house, I made my way to the library. The entrance of the laboratory was a secret door built into a bookshelf, hidden to anyone who didn’t know it existed. A wide curving stone staircase led to a small alcove with a lone door, which stood open. With the familiar smell of earth and stone mingled with chemicals, I stepped inside.

  Red brick arches curved toward the high ceiling reminiscent of Frankenstein’s laboratory, with a weight of history that pressed down on all who entered. The sanctity of the place reminded me of a library when we all spoke in hushed tones.

  The ample space had been divided into four rooms. The main room was open with workstations around the edges and with a clump of desks in the middle. One side had lab refrigerators. The two other rooms were a clean room and a multi-purpose space, who knew what Owen used it for now.

  I saw that the four others of our group had arrived and begun various projects.

  “Hello,” I called out and began to don a paper gown, cap, mask, and gloves. I stood in the entry to suit up.

  “Shepard,” Dr. Khatri called out to me in her rich Indian accent. “Come, take a look at the antigens in Emilie’s blood.”

  Crossing the room, I lifted my lab glasses to look through the microscope. “What the heck?”

  “I know. These are similar to the human antigens, but the count is low. I don’t think her body is making these. I think they are from Dr. Bennett’s blood.”

  “Hmmm… What does Owen…Dr. Bennett’s CBC look like?”

  Her eyes roamed my face. “His white blood cell count is high. When he was human, his body was able to make the antibodies, unlike a Moroi who would just metabolize the vaccine too quickly.”

  I pressed my lips together. “Hmmm…I want to make sure we’re getting a clean sample from her, one that’s uncontaminated with Owen’s blood. I still think that she could start making the antibodies on her own. It’s a long shot, but if we can synthesize that trigger, we may have a Moroi vaccine on our hands.”

  I thought about the blood transfusions Owen was giving Emilie on a regular basis. She was his maker, so their blood would be compatible. Owen’s antibodies should’ve started a chain reaction. Emilie should begin to make them herself, but the numbers were too low. Why wasn’t she responding?

  “Nurse Savage,” I turned toward him. He was one of the many floating nurses that worked with us on and off. “Will you go and do a new draw from Miss Edwards? We’re getting too much of Owen’s blood here.”

  He nodded and made for the door.

  The rain pelted down on our car as we sat parked across the street from the housekeeper’s one-story home. The thought that my kids could be inside made me jumpy and impatient.

  I liked the housekeeper, and during my pregnancy with Jackson, we’d become friends. Flor had six children of her own–they were all grown–even though she was only in her late forties. Years ago, two of her adult children lived at home. I had met Elisha, the older daughter. She was unmarried with three small children around Rebecca and Jackson’s age.

  After listening for heartbeats and voices, we realized that the house was empty.

  “Hmmm…What do you think? Should we go?” I asked Karsten.

  He shook his head, “Let's wait. I think they went to lunch.”

  “Okay.”

  It wasn’t long before a minivan pulled to a stop in the gravel driveway.

  I rubbed the fog off my window, allowing for a better view.

  The group was laughing and chatting in a mix of English and Spanish. I swallowed, but the lump stayed in my throat as I spotted my two blond children among the bunch.

  Sten rubbed my back gently but didn’t speak.

  I’d just wanted to lay eyes on them–for a moment.

  Rebecca wore a jean dress with striped leggings and a grey sweater. She was so tall and graceful, a sinking sensation flooded me.

  I’d already missed so much.

  Something tapped the top of my hand, and I realized it had been a tear.

  Had I been crying?

  I didn’t care–the drops turned to rivulets of sorrow, staining my face as I watched my babies.

  Jackson ran around the yard until he spotted me.

  We shared a look as he stood there in the rain, his blue hood falling down behind his head.

  I bit my lip; visions of opening my door, running up to him and pulling him into my arms filled my mind.

  As did the flutter of his heart and my yearning for his blood.

  It was too soon.

  After several moments, my boy followed the others into the house.

  When the bright blue door closed, I sat there looking at the place where my children had stood only moments before.

  The tears still streamed down my cheeks, the locket between my fingers.

  “Look at you!” The Viking exclaimed cheerfully, and I slowly turned to him.

  I felt wrecked.

  “Why are you so happy? I’m a mess! I hate myself right now.”

  His eyes narrowed as he took my hands into his. “No. You did well. This is only the first day of the rest of your life. You watched them, you heard their heartbeats, you smelled their blood, and you did nothing. That was good.”

  I laughed sardonically, tears still runnin
g hot streaks down my cheeks. “Maybe.”

  Sten’s accent seemed to become heavier as he shook my hands. “Stop this. At least you know they’re okay, and you did well.”

  His words uplifted me, and the pain behind his eyes made me wonder what he’d been through.

  Sniffing, I nodded. “You’re right. I was feeling sorry for myself.”

  “You should be proud. You sat here, not one sign of hunger. Not one!”

  He handed me a napkin from our lunch, and I used it to dry my face and wipe my eyes.

  I nodded and smiled, thinking of my beautiful girl in her denim dress. “I can do this.” I blew my nose. “I will do this.”

  Chapter Seven

  When we got out of the car, I heard voices coming from the back screened-in-porch. Karsten followed me as I made my way there.

  Sitting on the old wicker furniture was Owen and Dr. Peters. I called out to the group as I bounded up the patio stairs.

  Owen’s eyes were bright, and I couldn’t remember a time he’d smiled like that, like a man who knew his place and what he wanted.

  Then it dawned on me, beside him sat Emilie with a thick blanket wrapped around her. Thick woolen socks covered her feet that were propped on the coffee table.

  “You look a lot better today.” I reached my hand out to introduce myself. “I’m Dr. Sarah Shepard.”

  Her innocent eyes widened, and she tilted her head to the side, her mouth twisted. “Sarah? Owen’s….”

  I nodded. “Owen’s ex-wife.”

  She smiled and shook my hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I heard that you’re the one who separated antibodies or something…like an immune system boost or something? I wanted to thank you.”

  My eyes went to the large ruby and black gold engagement ring on her other hand. “It’s my job, but… you’re welcome.” Looking around the group, I asked, “Where’s Dr. Khatri?”

  “In the lab,” Peters answered me.

  When I found my colleague, she was testing samples and looking at them under a microscope.

  “Hey there,” I said as a greeting and examined what she was working on. “Has she started making her own antibodies yet?”