She picked up the final letter, but it didn’t continue to chronicle Ezran’s tragic life. Her eyes widened in dismay.
Dear sister,
You are familiar with the sins of our family. I have been searching endlessly for you. You have tried to atone for our ancestors by shutting down the Magdalene asylums and for this, I commend you. Unfortunately, it isn’t enough.
We carry a cursed bloodline infected with crimes against humanity, a disease perhaps fouler than what I am dispersing. The blood of murderers flows hotly through our veins.
You are the last remaining descendant of the Vesely bloodline, the last thread in the tapestry of our strange and intertwined lives.
You and I are living sin. We were born out of the embers of lust. Our mother was imprisoned because of our existence and we were condemned for existing.
During my imprisonment in St. Ignatius Sanitarium, my illness consumed my brain. I will never cease punishing society with the same sickness that plagued me until you are mine. Their blood will grow thick with disease as long as you are beyond my reach.
You and I will write the last chapter in our family history. As long as we still draw breath, the sins of our family can never be laid to rest.
You must die.
Let us end the Vesely bloodline once and for all… where you left off.
SIXTEEN
Vivian and Camilla were no closer to comprehending the end of Ezran Vesely’s letter when they returned to Prague. Camilla was still reeling from the fact that she shared a womb with a twin brother, not to mention that he was the ominous stalker walking in her shadow.
While Camilla darted off to follow this new thread in her investigation, Vivian scurried away to meet Milo. She was tempted to follow Camilla but she also desperately sought the comfort of her boyfriend. Did that make her an awful friend?
Camilla needs some time to herself, she thought, trying to chase away her guilt.
Vivian spotted Milo sitting on a bench in Vysehrad Park. The sunlight floated across him, making him look picturesque in the way only Milo could pull off. Vivian curled around him and his touch seemed to rejuvenate her in a matter of seconds.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. They had developed an intimacy where exchanged greetings didn’t seem necessary anymore. It was as though they picked up from the moment they last held each other.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t say. I trust you, Milo, but this story isn’t mine to tell. This is something personal my friend is going through.”
“Camilla? Is it why you ran off the other day?”
“Yes. I’m sorry if I’m in a rotten mood.”
“It’s okay. We all have those days and there’s no shame in that. I wish there was something I could do to comfort you.”
“Don’t you know you always comfort me? I’m the luckiest girl in the world, remember?”
“No, not quite yet you aren’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been thinking, you’re under a lot of stress lately from Crenshaw and the program. I thought maybe you could use a break to get away from it all. Far, far away.” Milo handed her a brochure replete with lavish scenes of a river and dazzling bridges pulled from a painting. Vivian’s heart felt like it would implode as she admired the city floating on azure waters.
“My next world adventure was already in the making, but I thought I could use a partner in crime to ensure I come back safe and sound. What would you say to floating down Venice with me?”
“Oh my God, really? I … I think I love you.”
Vivian almost choked. She couldn’t believe she uttered those terrifying words.
“You think?”
“I know I love you, Milo, and that’s coming right from my heart.”
She had scarcely uttered those words for so long. Had she ever spoken them to a man and sincerely understood the devotion they implied? This time she did.
She understood the bond that cries out to be sated by a kiss or caress that only a lover can grant. It was a hunger that only tears at the soul when it is not fed. Every night she hungered for Milo and the calm that he brought after her storms.
Yet, what scared her most of all was the idea that she wanted to marry him.
Her mind was already racing at the idea of traveling across Europe with Milo.
“I love you, too,” he said to her delight.
Vivian couldn’t describe this lightheadedness. She always mocked the tenderness between couples while other girls swooned at the sight of them. Vivian could pass by a couple making out in the park and feel only pity for them. When she thought of marriage, she thought of entrapment. She imagined a life of boorish conversation repeated day after day, squabbling over bills, tolerating each other, and sex that loses its luster after two years.
Perhaps she mocked love because she was so cynical about her own chances. It was easier to brush it off as a whimsical fantasy that only naïve romantics fall for.
Or maybe it stemmed from her string of disastrous relationships, which all too inevitably ended in lies.
Perhaps she enjoyed being a victim of self-pity. It felt perversely comfortable to play the role of the rejected girl. It was safer to lament about how all men were pigs who only wanted to spread her legs instead of open her heart. That sweeping generalization excused her from all the blame. The bitterness was the only companion she knew.
Now she couldn’t think of her life without Milo and the solace that followed him. Vivian felt foolish but she didn’t care. She nuzzled close to him until the fur of his jacket tickled her nose.
“Sometimes I’m scared of these feelings you bring out of me.”
Milo absently played with her hair as he pondered this revelation. She shivered at his delicate touch as it triggered something deep inside. She felt like falling asleep on this bench so long as his arms remained entwined around her.
“Why does it frighten you?”
“That’s a hard question to answer. I don’t quite know why I’m afraid of being so close to you.”
“Is it because you don’t want to be hurt in the end?”
“Maybe. Sometimes I’m not sure how to feel about you. You seem too good to be true at times.”
“You think I’m going to leave you one day.”
“I never said that.”
“But that fear gnaws at you relentlessly in the back of your mind, doesn’t it? You dread that a day will come when I change and treat you with indifference. Or you fear that I will meet someone else who catches my fancy more than you do. Then you will become a mere distraction to me.”
Vivian’s tongue tied itself in knots. It was true and she hated how he seemed to know this. Was she that transparent before him? She wanted to hold on to an air of mystery instead of becoming an open book for him to leaf through with a glance.
How could she not expect this relationship to end in flames when each one preceding it did? A guilty part of her secretly wanted him to disappoint her and leave. After all, she didn’t deserve to be treated with such gentleness. She was more frightened about how to handle this loving man than she was frightened of betrayal. She held her breath when his fingertips touched her. They seemed to melt the ice hardening over her heart.
“I’m not leaving you, Vivian. I won’t break you, I promise.”
She fell deeper into his arms. It was so easy to believe the honeyed words dripping from his lips. And she wasn’t one for succumbing to the charms of men without a fight.
Still, one question lingered on her lips.
“What do you love about me?”
Milo sat in silence. He turned his eyes to the gilded leaves above.
“The way you look at me with yearning in your eyes. I know I never have to feel alone as long as you’re here with me. Any man would be blessed to bask in your love. You’re my therapy when I need to be pulled out of the world and brought back to reality. You’re beautiful down to your skin, heart, and soul. I love your tenderness, intelligence, sensuality, and p
layfulness. You’re the balm to my soul.”
Sarcastic jibes escaped her now.
Vivian grinned as she considered something he said.
“What do you find beautiful about me?”
Snow fell from the heavens, illuminated in a ghastly way by the sunlight. Milo smiled in his knowing way and moved closer. He cupped her chin with one hand and tipped her face to his.
Vivian clasped his wrist, shivering with excitement at his attention.
“The sparks of danger that dance around you.”
SEVENTEEN
Vivian and Camilla guzzled down coffee inside a café to ward off the winter frost. Even as snow spiraled down from gray skies, Vivian was swept away in festive summer scenes of Italy and Venice.
“I can’t even describe how I feel about Milo or the bond we have. He’s like no one I’ve ever met before. I think he’s my soulmate.”
Camilla’s face reddened and she choked on her latte.
“Okay, who are you and what have you done with Vivian? I didn’t even know that word fit in your vocabulary.”
“To be honest, I never really entertained the idea of a soulmate or something as aloof as destiny. But Milo has at least challenged my idea about a soulmate. Imagine that special person who vibes with you and makes everything in your life come into focus. It’s like a high that never ends. I feel as though I’ve met him somewhere before, maybe even in another lifetime and we’re just finally reuniting. It’s crazy, I know.”
“No, not crazy, it’s adorable… or somewhere in the spectrum of disturbing. Maybe a little bit of both,” Camilla said, tossing in a wink. “Well, that settles it. Milo has definitely changed you.”
“What are you implying?”
“Nothing.”
“You were never any good at keeping secrets. Spit it out.”
Camilla took a long draught of her coffee just to torment Vivian with the silence.
“Vivian, I’m happy that you found someone who treasures you. You have so much to offer and you deserve all the best. But there’s something that still bothers me about this. The way you talk about him is…”
“Yes?”
Camilla sighed.
“It sounds as though all your happiness centers on Milo. Frankly, you sound dependent on him.”
“I’m not. I just—”
“What else makes you happy besides Milo now?”
“My family, going to school—unless I see Crenshaw. I’m also happy to see you so don’t get too jealous.”
“Never. Sometimes I prefer a little distance between us.” Camilla gazed outside, wondering where their paths would lead in a not so distant future. She wondered if they would share a drink at this café a year from now or if Vivian’s mysterious suitor would spirit her away. “Just don’t lose focus of yourself, okay?”
Vivian looked quizzically at her.
“You’re so intoxicated by Milo sometimes I feel it’s all you think or talk about these days. It just makes me wonder… what if you lost him? Would you fall apart?”
The notion made Vivian’s gut drop. She imagined the void in her if she didn’t see his smile anymore or hear his voice whispering in her ear. It would wreak utter devastation in her soul.
Deep inside, she entertained the faintest idea of why she felt so attached to Milo. If not for his caring heart and the affection of his words, perhaps another reason made her cling so tightly to him. As Vivian looked around her world, she found it becoming empty.
All of her childhood friends had married, relocated, and created their own families, thus displacing Vivian. She didn’t have any siblings either. Camilla was the only true friend that Vivian spent time with now.
Yes. I feel alone.
Vivian felt suffocated by how unbearably empty her world was, how impersonal it felt on every level. Perhaps that was why she held on to Milo so dearly—because she didn’t want to live or die alone.
She couldn’t abide that nightmare coming to life.
“You don’t have to worry about me.” She squeezed Camilla’s hand. “I feel like we’re meant to be together. I don’t know how to explain this, but it feels right. Whatever comes our way, I know we can handle it. I’m thinking about proposing to Milo soon.”
Their summer trip to Europe would be the perfect moment to propose to him. She could imagine it now—a flaming sunset would dawn over the city vistas while they dined at a fancy Venetian restaurant.
Camilla smiled weakly as Vivian gazed star struck into her fantasies. She was thrilled to see Vivian’s life turning around, especially after last year’s ordeals. Still, she didn’t want to see anyone damage Vivian and undo that year of progress.
“All right. I know he’ll happily accept.” After a slight pause, Camilla added, “Now I have something to share with you. You know that man who assaulted us in the mall and the sanitarium?”
“Yes, how could I forget a face like that? I’m still trying to scrub it from my nightmares.”
“Well, I came across some old records about St. Ignatius Sanitarium. Patient reports flagged a particular individual suffering from gigantism and facial deformities. This person was no stranger to violent skirmishes in the wards. Also, our attacker happened to be a she.”
Now it was Vivian’s turn to choke on her scalding coffee, which proved particularly painful.
“You’ve got to be joking. That thing was a woman?”
“Not only that, she was also fond of Ezran Vesely. It sounds like she followed him closely and protected him from the nuns.”
“You’re telling me that thing is like a guardian to him?”
“It appears that way since she also attacked us in the sanitarium. Unfortunately, her records don’t list a name so I don’t know too much more about her.”
After downing a few more cups of coffee to end the conversation, Vivian felt like dropping by the hospital to surprise Milo. She recovered the bounce in her step by the time she arrived in the chilly halls leading to the blood lab. She crossed her fingers that she didn’t bump into Crenshaw while she was scouting for Milo. He would probably demand to know why she was there when clinicals weren’t in place. A hand gripped Vivian’s shoulder that sent a jolt of panic through her.
“Vivian, we need to talk.” She relaxed at the sound of Milo’s voice.
“You gave me a scare, Milo. Why are you so excited to see me? Are you anxious to start planning our trip?”
“Not exactly. We have something important to discuss. Do you remember the TB test you took a few days ago?” The unmistakable grimness in his tone worried Vivian. “You tested negative for tuberculosis.”
“See?” Vivian smiled as the weight slipped off her shoulders. “I knew I didn’t contract it.” Milo’s face remained tense. Vivian noted the way his temple throbbed when he worried. Her short-lived relief melted away.
“There’s more, Vivian. Tuberculosis didn’t show up in your results, but our test detected something else. You have low CD4 cell counts.”
“And what does that mean?”
Milo swallowed hard.
“You have HIV.”
The statement hit her harder than the bullet she took to the side. Vivian clutched her gut as she felt the hospital food wash up her throat. So many emotions bombarded her at once that she couldn’t comprehend them. She felt an inexplicable mesh of denial, anger and grief. Nothing short of frenzy jostled her brain.
She knew this must be what it feels like before one dies—but she couldn’t die yet! She still had so much to accomplish her in life! She wanted to graduate from college, embark on her career, buy a house and raise her own family.
She owed it to her parents to keep them by her side. She still had to see her father when he came home from his physical rehabilitation. And Camilla…
Vivian saw the implicit question burning in Milo’s eyes and she staggered back.
How could you do this to me? How could you have sex with me?
Vivian shook her head, trying to deny the life sentence so braz
enly handed to her.
“I swear, I didn’t know,” she said. “God damn it! This doesn’t make any sense!” Vivian slumped against the wall as nurses scurried past and doctors rumbled over the intercom. The next words Milo said barely floated to her ears. Nothing made sense in those few seconds of eternity. She could only wall herself off behind abject denial in the hope that she would awaken from this nightmare.
“What does this mean? What’s going to happen to me?” she said, fear spilling into her voice. She was horrified by what she saw in Milo’s gaze. He looked predatory.
Judging.
Cold.
“HIV can progress to AIDS if left untreated.” She vaguely heard the inflection of dread in his voice, as if he knew this fate could apply to him, too. “This process can take anywhere between months to years to play out.”
Vivian dropped her face in her hands. She recalled the time she spent living on the streets as the Red Widow. She sold her body at a pittance just to survive and purchase meals. How many men did she come into sexual contact with? Any one of her clients could have carried HIV and passed it on to her. She shuddered to think of other diseases that may be lying dormant in her bloodstream.
Vivian felt nauseous and overwhelmed by the possibilities. She was so accustomed to finding a solution to her problems, but there was no panacea for this ailment.
Suddenly, sunspots clouded her vision and they began to multiply like neon-colored explosions. Water collected in her ears and Milo’s voice was becoming more muffled and deeper.
She was on the verge of passing out and she welcomed it gladly. Maybe it was a sign that she was departing from this hell.
She tried to shut out the tormenting voice of her lover.
Milo’s hand clasped her shoulder.
“We need to schedule a supplemental test to confirm the presence of viral antigens. I’ll need to collect a tissue sample from you.”
“Fine.” Vivian bit her quivering lip as she tried not to break down into tears. She could barely process what he was saying. The words weren’t connecting, just bouncing off her.
Arsenic for the Soul Page 15
