Shades of Red

by T L Christianson

  As soon as I’d done it, reality came crashing in on me, and I had to take some slow breaths before getting up and showering.

  My first agenda was to explore the shops on Main Street and buy as many gifts as I could carry.

  I was ready to make up for lost time. Especially if I lost Karsten….

  I’d decided that it was time to start to eat like every other Moroi around. Today, I was going to live feed and do it carefully.

  I was better because of Sten.

  All the other Moroi would tell me to just “Be careful” or “Just don’t drink as much.” But none of those things helped.

  Karsten taught me how to control my thirst. How could I stand by and let GC take him?

  I kept telling myself that I had no choice, but did I?

  Shaking those thoughts off, I started down Main, deciding on the toy store first. Marveling at the kites hanging from the ceiling and decorative toys lining the shelves, I picked up an old-fashioned wooden truck and pursed my lips. There were cloth dolls and wooden toys but no hot wheels or Barbies.

  “Ma’am?” I asked the young college student who was reading a magazine behind the counter. “Where are the regular toys?”

  Looking down at the price tag at the bottom of the truck I nearly gasped. The small wooden truck was fifteen dollars.

  “What do you mean?” She asked, giving me a raised brow.

  “Like Barbies and hot wheels.”

  The young woman made a derisive snort. “Those are cheap and made out of plastic. They’re covered in toxic chemicals. What ages are you looking for?”

  I smiled and realized that we were alone in the shop, near the back with shelves of cloth dolls and wooden toys to block us from view of the main window. It was early in the day, so I didn’t expect a surge of toy shoppers to come in.

  When my eyes met hers again, I felt that twinge of concentration that came when I mesmerized someone. “Are you expecting anyone?”

  “No,” she told me in the flat tone of enthrallment.

  “Do you travel out of the country?”

  “No.”

  “Have you had a rash or flu symptoms recently?” This was one of the symptoms of OVC in humans.

  “No.”

  I neared her and sniffed the scent of blood rushing beneath her skin, and my fangs ran out. She was fragrant and made me a little dizzy

  I sucked in a breath through my mouth and focused my thoughts on Karsten. Then I leaned forward and bit into her neck.

  The sensation was immediate, and I began counting.

  One, two, three… Oh my god, her blood tasted so good, and I hadn’t drunk live in a while.

  Four, five, six… I would need to stop soon.

  I can’t stop.

  Seven, eight, nine. I need to stop. I need to stop.

  Her heart was still strong and beat with its usual rhythm.

  Reluctantly, I pulled away, sucking in deep breaths.

  That was enough. What I took wouldn’t be missed.

  I had taken enough.

  The girl’s eyes had closed; she looked like she’d fallen asleep. Moroi saliva worked almost as good as altering their brain waves. I didn’t need to compel her anymore she wouldn’t remember me.

  “Thank you.” I murmured and licked the two puncture wounds on her neck. They healed before my eyes.

  Wandering away a little to look at some beautiful cloth dolls, I knew the shop girl would snap herself out of my trance in a moment or two.

  In the meantime, I found a neat little wooden car that Jack could drive around using pedals and dozens of small figurines, soldiers, knights and princesses, cowboys and Indians, dinosaurs, and farm animals.

  The shop girl was folding t-shirts when I returned to the front desk with my final selections.

  Smiling, she looked everything over. “Are you ready to check out?” She laughed at the pile of toys.

  “Yeah, I’m done.” I smiled and looked out the front store window as she began tallying up my goods.

  It was mid-October, a little late for tourist season, but there was still a fair amount of people out and about. I paid with my debit card, and she handed me my bags. With my free hand, I picked up the car and smiled as the shop girl opened the door for me.

  After putting these in my car, I went to the candy store and selected a little of my favorites to make both kids a small candy care package.

  After that, I looked into one of the formal dress shops and my mind swam with images of Rebecca trying on homecoming and prom dresses. She’d spin in delight and beg me to buy it for her, and I would. Then we’d get ice-cream… Well, hopefully, I’d be able to eat dairy by then. We’d sit in the park and laugh, and she’d tell me all about her boyfriends and classes. She’d love chemistry and biology like me.

  I’d brush her hair and wipe her tears after her breakups.

  I’d sit in the stands during whatever sport the kids played and cheer after making snacks for the team, like cut up oranges.

  Why oranges? I never understood that in movies, but I would do it. I was going to be the mother I’d always dreamed of.

  Yes. Because now I would be here for them. I could do my work part-time in a new house, or even in Owen’s lab.

  I smiled.

  I could make this work.

  An image floated through my mind of Karsten’s beautiful smile. His coffee and sky-blue eyes crinkling at the edges, while he told me he loved me.

  Handcuffed to that table.

  I swallowed back tears and pushed him from my brain.

  I’d left my kids once.

  I was strong enough to move on from the man I loved.

  I hoped.

  Shaking his beautiful image, the sight that made butterflies and tingles course through my body, I decided to make another stop for Barbies and Hotwheels.

  Driving up the gravel road inside the fence, I turned off the engine. It was only 1:47 p.m.

  Looking up at the house, I sat there in my car and watched as Owen and Emilie had a whispered conversation inside the front door.

  While they were talking, I popped the trunk and began to gather up the bags of toys I’d purchased.

  I knew I’d broken our agreement, but I wasn’t about to live my life on the clock.

  Owen turned briskly away, disappearing into the house. Emilie opened the stained-glass front door and began walking out to me. She smiled, and I forced a smile myself, reminding myself that Karsten’s situation was not her fault.

  “Sarah! You surprised us by coming early, but I’m glad you’re here!” Oddly enough, the corners of her eyes crinkled in genuine happiness.

  Well, if not happiness, at least not angry like Owen. Her gaze roamed the contents of my trunk, and she said, “Want some help?”

  “I’ve got it, thanks.” I forced another smile. I knew she was trying to be friendly, but I would’ve rather shot myself than take her help at that moment.

  When we entered the house, I set down all the toys and began laying them out in separate piles. When I finished, I looked around for the kids.

  Owen stood in the doorway to the parlor, hands on hips.

  “You know the kids already have too many toys.” He told me.

  I smiled brightly at him. “Well, now they’ll have toys from their mother.” Sucking in a deep breath, I yelled, “Rebecca! Jackson!”

  Emilie and Owen exchanged a glance.

  “What?” I asked annoyed.

  “It’s just that yelling is unnecessary. Why didn’t you just ask one of us to fetch the children?”

  I shook my head. “Owen, this isn’t Buckingham Palace. I can call for my own children.” Pursing my lips, I closed my eyes.

  Calm and happy.

  When I opened my eyes again, Owen’s expression made my shoulders tense all over again.

  “Is that candy?” He asked. “The kids don’t eat candy. They don’t need all this. He looked at the toys I’d taken out of the white Walmart bags and shook his head. “A lot of this is junk.
You need to take it back.”

  I smirked and held up the two bags of candy. “Can you please just stop picking at me? I’ve worked hard to be here.”

  I knew all of his arguments by heart at this point, and even though I understood where he was coming from, he had no right to judge me. Becoming a Moroi wasn’t easy for everyone like it had been for him and Emilie.

  As he turned to leave, both kids trailed into the front parlor, where I stood. Owen patted Jackson’s head and squeezed Rebecca’s shoulder as they passed each other. Then my ex was gone, and my kids stood there looking at the toys I spread out.

  My face broke out into a smile, and I had to blink tears back.

  “Is this stuff for us?” My daughter asked, a shy smile on her lips. She looked a little like Owen’s mother when she tilted her head.

  “Hi honey, yes! I brought all these presents for you two! Oh! And also, this!” I handed each of them their own bag of candy from the shop.

  “Thank you,” they chorused.

  Both of them acted so unnaturally polite and formal.

  Watching them begin to look over everything, I noticed Emilie sitting in the corner, a gentle smile on her heart-shaped face.

  “You don’t have to be here,” I told her.

  Her lips twisted. “I know, but Owen…” When she trailed off, I rolled my eyes.

  As the kids began to open boxes of Barbie dolls and hot-wheels, I knelt between them.

  “I’m so so so sorry for being away. Did daddy tell you why I was gone?”

  Jack met my eyes. “Because you were sick?” I breathed out a sigh of relief, at least he hadn’t been a total dick.

  I nodded. “I’ve been sick a long time…”

  Rebecca cut me off. “Like Emilie?”

  I tilted my head, not sure exactly what to say. Did they know what Owen and Emilie and I were? Were they familiar with Moroi?

  “Kind of…” I hedged. She brushed her Barbie doll’s hair. “Do you guys like the presents?” I asked.

  “Daddy says Barbie dolls are unrealistic and will give me body image problems.” At my daughter’s response, I raised my eyebrows.

  “What? You seem to like them.” I watched as she’d already stripped one unrealistic and plastic woman and clothed her in an equally silly ball gown, with tiny plastic shoes on her high-heel shaped feet.

  “Yeah, but I like her the best.” She held up the teen doll with flat feet. “She’s like Emilie.”

  I bit my lip and looked over at my son who’d already begun to put together a plastic track for his cars.

  “I’ve missed you guys. Do you have any questions for me?”

  “Yeah,” Jackson piped up, “Why did dad tell us that you were dead?”

  I pursed my lips but just before I was about to answer, Rebecca spoke. “Where have you been? Why weren’t you able to be here? Why didn’t you send me a birthday card? Why didn’t you call? We came and saw Emilie while she was sick. Why couldn’t we see you?” She paused, “Are you really our real mother?”

  I laughed defensively and looked at Emilie who merely shrugged.

  “Well,” I said, swallowing, feeling for my glamour to enthrall the kids a bit. “I have loved you more than anyone. But when I was sick, I was taken to New York. But you don’t mind that we couldn’t talk. Right?”

  “Of course, I mind! I’ve been lied to my whole life!” Rebecca responded. I exchanged a look with Emilie, and she motioned with her finger toward the kitchen.

  “I’m so sorry baby,” I told Rebecca.

  “It’s okay,” Replied Jack in the thrall of my glamour. “I don’t mind. I know you love me more than anyone.” He said in a monotone.

  I crept up and followed my replacement to the kitchen, leaving the kids with their toys.

  “What?” I whispered to her.

  “Becca is starting to be immune to mind control.” She raised a brow at me. “Owen and I want the name of the doctor who created the embryos.”

  I waved off her question. “What? Very, very few humans are immune. That’s impossible. Maybe I’m just nervous.”

  She shook her head. “It began a few months ago.” She hesitated, “Are they part Moroi?”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “You mesmerized my children?” I asked angrily.

  Tilting her blond curly head, she chuckled. “Yes, a little. For their own good.”

  I crossed my arms and began to storm toward the study. “Owen!” I yelled.

  Emilie put her tiny hand on my arm. “Look, he knows. He’s done it himself.”

  Anger flowed throughout my body, and I turned to go back into the parlor.

  “Sarah, stop. You just tried to do it yourself, and you’ve been here less than ten minutes.”

  She had a point, but I was still mad about it.

  Maybe madder that she was right.

  I felt deflated as I came back into the front living room and tried to engage my children.

  They took no interest in me. All they wanted to do was play with the toys I’d brought, leaving many of them untouched.

  “Hey, Jack, can I play with this truck? Maybe we can make them crash?”

  He looked up at me. “No, that truck is going over there.” He pointed to a space littered with other cars.

  “Okay,” I smiled. “Is there a car I could play?”

  “Cars drive. They don’t play.”

  I bit my lip. “I’m just trying to get to know you.”

  “I’m fine. Go bug Becca.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, she tensed, clenching her fists.

  When I turned to watch her, she froze.

  “You can play with this one.” She held up one of the Barbie dolls dressed in formal wear.

  “Okay, did you want to help me put the Barbie house together?”

  She looked at the Barbie Mansion box and shrugged. “Not really, but I will if you want to.”

  I shook my head, “No, honey, we don’t have to.”

  Her two dolls were talking to each other. “Hi Susanna, what are you making in the kitchen?” Asked one doll. “I’m making cookies, do you want some?”

  I made my doll walk up to the group. “I’d like some cookies,” I said in a high-pitched voice.

  “No,” said Becca, “That one doesn’t talk like that. She talks more normal.”

  I rocked back to sit on my heels. “I’m going to go get some coffee from the kitchen, do either of you want anything?”

  “No,” came murmurs from both.

  Standing, I sighed. Emilie had made this look so easy. Why wasn’t it easy for me? They were my kids. I was the one with the blood connection to them. Meandering down to the back of the house, I poured myself a cup from the ever-brewing coffee pot and sat down at the table in the middle of the room.

  “Are you okay?” Emilie asked me, sitting across from me with a soda and popping the top.

  “You know you’re too fucking human, right?”

  She blushed. “So, I’ve been told.”

  Sitting there in silence until my cup was empty, I finally asked her, “Why don’t they like me?”

  She sighed and ran her fingers along the gap between the boards of the table.

  “They will. It’ll just take time.” When her green eyes met mine, I wished that she’d been my mother. The thought made my heart ache. She was my dream mother, the mother I’d never had.

  And here I was saying ‘fuck’ in her kitchen.

  This really was her house now.

  She was sweet and beautiful and probably made cookies like Rebecca’s Barbie doll.

  Why was I even here? Why was I even trying? When they had her?

  Running my fingertip around the edge of my mug, I asked, “Do you really think that I can make this work? Will they call me mom?”

  “They’re hurt right now, and kids are selfish. They’ll come around.”

  After a long pause, I finally said, “GC came and arrested Karsten, did you know that?” I blurted out.

  Her shocked expre
ssion was all I needed to know, but she answered anyway. “Oh, no. Oh my gosh! I thought I would get to know him…”

  I took in a shaky breath. “He didn’t make you. He’s being falsely accused.”

  “I…I didn’t know.”

  Coffee grounds lay at the bottom of my mug, and I stared at them intently. “Yeah, well it doesn’t really matter now anyhow. He’s been taken back to Denmark, where he’ll most likely be murdered by his own clan.”

  Her sharp intake of breath made me look back up.

  “Why? No. We have to do something! I never got to talk to him, if he’s not my maker than he knows who is!” She stood and began to wring her hands.

  “It’s too late.”

  When she left the room, I went back to the living room, where I remained invisible to my kids.

  They played, and I sat there like a ghost.

  Or a demon.

  The fragrance of their blood called out to me and I closed my eyes against the temptation. Licking my lips, I counted to ten.

  I wouldn’t act on my hunger, but the knowledge that this was my desire when with them, chilled me to the bone.

  Emilie had sat comfortably, easily in this room, but sitting idly was not my strong suit. I decided to go upstairs and look at their bedrooms.

  The front stairs creaked in the usual place, making me smile sadly. I figured that Rebecca would have the same room she’d had as a baby and Jackson would be in the nursery.

  My first guess was right. I found my daughter’s room where it had always been.

  The walls were still ballet slipper pink, the color I’d painted them. Now, instead of her antique crib that Owen had purchased from an auction, she had a four-poster oak bed with a sheer pink canopy.

  A large custom dollhouse sat arranged in the corner; At least now I knew why the plastic mansion wasn’t so appealing to her. The dollhouse had cloth people from the toy store in town.

  There was a dresser with a mirror above it, and a long lace runner that covered the length. In the middle sat a silver tray with a silver hairbrush, mirror, and comb. Next to those items on the silver tray lay a well-used tube of children’s lipstick and blush.

  The corner of my mouth quirked up at the thought of my little girl wearing lipstick.

  Then I realized why my daughter had it–Emilie wore lipstick.

  Red lipstick like the one in the small pink tube on the tray.