by B. N. Toler
I wipe under my eyes and clean myself up. I deserve no less than a soulless existence, I convince myself. There’s no one to blame but myself. It’s time to let go of my past. Forget it. I can no longer lie to myself anymore. I will never be a mother. Nor will I be with Thomas. Who am I now if I am not the girl chasing down a man who refuses to be with her? I guess I never took the time to figure that out. No more chasing Thomas, Aldo.
I make my way downstairs and find Sarah changed, looking fresh as a daisy, but still void as ever. She stares blankly out the window at the rear of the house.
I plop down in front of the disappointing menu of fruit and yogurt, set on a place mat before me. “Did you make this?” I ask, trying to break the deafening silence.
“No,” she snickers. “Mickey made it.” She nods her head towards the kitchen, where I see a tall thin Asian man standing in the corner of the kitchen, still as a statue. The familiar sound of pitches and vibrations fill my ears.
“He’s human?” I whisper, even though he can hear me.
“Yes.” She rolls her eyes.
I glance back at Mickey, who smiles and nods once, as if saying hello. Why would they have a human on staff? Then it occurs to me. Blood for them.
“Do you feed on him?” I ask before I have time to flip on the filter that keeps people from saying something stupid.
Sarah nods her head. “Yes, he’s so delicious.” She widens her eyes and runs her tongue across her teeth.
I’m too naïve to know if she’s being facetious or not. I watch her, but she doesn’t give me any indication as to if she’s joking. I look at Mickey, who still stands in the same place, smiling. He shakes his head no to relieve me of my anguish.
I nod back slightly and proceed to eat my meal. I finish in less than five minutes, still hungry for more. “Can I have something else?”
“No.” Sarah takes my plate and places it on the kitchen island. Mickey moves fast, grabbing the plate and rinsing it in the sink.
“I’m still hungry.”
“Trust me. You will thank me once you’ve changed and are thin forever.” She rolls her eyes and walks out of the room.
Somehow I doubt that.
“Come!” she shouts from down the hall.
I scurry after her, nodding a thank you to Mickey as I exit. I find Sarah standing at the front door, waiting for me to catch up. We walk out onto the porch and she sits on a porch swing, indicating for me to sit beside her.
“So what exactly are you training me to do here?” I motion my hand in a circular motion above the porch swing.
“What are you so afraid of?”
Her question takes me by surprise. “Being turned into a vampire,” I say with a duh, type tone.
“You remind me of a little child.”
Her words offend me and I glare at her. “Oh, were you jumping for joy to be turned?” I snip back.
“It’s not just about being turned. You’re scared of everything.” She shakes her head.
I try to think of what she means, but she interrupts my train of thought.
“Scared of life, scared of death, scared of being alone.”
“That’s because my life has been flipped upside down,” I remind her.
“Most of it self-induced.”
“Whatever.” I cross my arms and turn my body away from her.
“You need to let go of some of these worries you carry. You want your transition to be clean, free of regret. Otherwise, you will be miserable forever.”
“So, sitting on a porch swing will help me do that?” I ask dryly.
“Yes.”
We sit in silence, and after a while, Mickey brings me a glass of unsweetened tea. I sip it, even though it’s awful unsweetened. After a few hours, I actually feel better. It’s nice to sit in the quiet, watching the day pass by, and I’m grateful Sarah hasn’t had any other speculations about me to share.
“When do you eat?” It occurs to me I’ve eaten twice and haven’t seen her eat at all.
“It’s almost time for us to eat,” Rhett responds, walking around the side of the house. Sarah quickly disappears into the house, not acknowledging Rhett as she passes him.
When Rhett sits beside me on the swing, I stiffen, losing my relaxed mode I had accomplished. His scent is intoxicating, clean and fresh.
“How was your day?” Rhett eyes me.
“I shoveled horse manure.” I thumb one of the many blisters on my hands.
“Sarah has a funny way of introducing people to this way of life,” Rhett laughs. “Let me see your hands.” He tries to grab them, but I jerk away as a reflex. “It’s okay,” he assures me. “Just hold your palms out.”
I hesitantly move my hands in front of him palms up. He places his hands above mine, his palms facing mine but not touching them. Suddenly, a tingling sensation enters my hands. His energy runs through me and when it stops, my hands are soft and healed.
“That’s amazing,” I gasp, still staring at my hands. “You didn’t even touch me.”
“Blood healers don’t have to.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, still amazed.
“You’re welcome.” He beams a brilliant smile of immaculate white teeth, and for a moment, he looks human.
“What’s it like?” I continue to stare at my hands.
“What?”
“Healing the way you do?”
“Oh.” He nods. “Well, I’m stronger. Healing as I am now doesn’t exhaust me the way it used to when I was human.” He stares out over the field.
“So you get your energy from drinking blood?” I try to hide my disgust.
He sits back with his arm extended behind me across the back of the swing, but not touching me. I shift, feeling uncomfortable.
“Yes. We drink blood and we heal.”
“How do you get your blood?”
“From humans,” he laughs.
“I mean do you just attack people or do you have volunteers?”
“I tell you what. We usually feed at night. Would you like to see what we do?” he asks, as if he’s inviting me to a political function.
“Uh, no, not really,” I stammer, nauseated at the thought.
We sit in quiet for a moment, with only the sound of the swing creaking as we sway back and forth to interrupt the silence. I let my mind go blank. I don’t want to feel anything. The revelations of the last few days have left me void, to say the least. The only feeling I can muster now is fear. Fear of what lies ahead. Fear of this strange blood healer, Rhett. Fear that I will never have any secrets I can keep from him or Sarah.
Rhett looks peaceful in this setting. He’s wearing jeans and a navy t-shirt. His dark hair is loose from its slicked back look, which makes him appear younger. If I had to guess his age, I’d say he was in his early twenties. It occurs to me that he may actually be older, but was changed when he was in his early twenties. It’s odd to sit so close to someone and not hear their energy. I never realized how much I would miss that. Without the vibrations and the pitches, I feel lost, naked almost. I can’t help but let the memories I had only hours ago swore to myself I would forget, seep back in. I miss people. I miss my people. I miss Hudson and Whit. They are my twins. Maybe it’s the comfort of them I miss most. I felt like I belonged to something when I was with them. I miss Lucy too. The Lucy I thought she was. What would I do if I could go back, knowing what I know now?
“You are sad.” Rhett speaks softly as he watches me lost in my world of what ifs.
“How could I not be?” Why would he ask such a ridiculous question?
He stands and holds his hand out to me. “Come. I want to show you something.”
I stare at his hand and look up to him.
“Trust me. You will like this.” He stares down at me, his eyes offering a silent promise no harm will come to me.
I take his hand, apprehensively, and a sensation runs through me like a cold shock, but it’s completely invigorating. I lose my balance momentarily and have to catch my
breath. “What was that?” I ask like a child who just ate candy for the first time, desperate for more.
“I’m sorry. That’s never happened before.”
“That was…” I pause, searching for words. Orgasmic came to mind, but I wouldn’t dare say that to him. In another rush, fear consumes me. What did he just do to me?
“I know.” He nods with a slight smile, as if he knew the exact word I was thinking.
He leads me down the porch steps and we walk through the field towards the pasture. The sun is setting, and through the wide rays of dusk that beam onto the field, butterflies dance in the light. The air smells of grass and untouched land. Rhett continues to hold my hand and I allow it, not really even noticing it’s happening.
I find myself wanting to run out into the field and brush my hand atop the tall wheat that looks so inviting as it sways slightly in the soft breeze. Surely this is what heaven must be like. We make our way to the fence, where Rhett climbs over and turns to assist me, but I climb the wooden rails and hop over with ease. Dancing has helped me gain quite a bit of agility. We stare out into the pasture, taking in the lovely view.
Sarah had taken six horses out this morning, but I see only two now. “Where are the others?”
“Down by the creek, behind that wood line. They’ll be back soon.” Rhett points.
“You brought me to see the horses? I saw them this morning.”
“Yes, but you didn’t see what they can do.” He whistles and the two horses in sight trot towards us, lining up and meeting in unison. One is white—the one Sarah was so loving with this morning—and the other is chestnut brown. As they reach us, Rhett whistles again, and they halt standing in uniform.
“When I was human and very young, we had two horses. They were my only friends outside my family.” Rhett rubs the brown horse on his side. The horse turns his head and flicks his thick tail in acknowledgement. “These two I rescued from a farm in Pennsylvania. They were half starved when I found them.” He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a sugar cube which the brown horse eats out of his palm.
“You always carry around sugar cubes in your pockets?”
Rhett glances at me, then back to the horse. “Yes.”
Okay, that’s odd.
“Aren’t you afraid they’ll bite you?”
Rhett quirks a brow. “Terrified.”
I immediately flush red, embarrassed at how ridiculous my question was.
He walks over to the white horse and pulls another sugar cube from his pocket.
“Would you like to feed it to her?” He holds it out to me.
I step back. “No.”
“Come on. I promise they won’t bite you.” He grabs my arm and I am once again stunned by the electrifying pulse of chills that run through me. “Sorry.” He scrunches his face, apparently feeling it too. He holds out the cube to me, and I take it, eyeing it in my palm.
“Aldo, this is Esmeralda.” He rubs her large white forehead and stands to her side, allowing me to walk up to her. “Hold your hand flat and your fingers together. She’ll eat it right out of your palm.” He shows me his hand so I can make sure I’m doing it right.
I approach her cautiously and hold my hand the way Rhett showed me. Esmeralda gently rubs her muzzle against my palm and takes the cube. I pet her gently, still unsure of this strange beast.
“Have you ever ridden one?” Rhett watches as I continue to pet the white beauty.
“No.” I shake my head in awe of her.
“Would you like to learn?”
“Now?” I step back.
“No,” he laughs. “But maybe tomorrow we could get you out for a ride.”
“Sure.” I shrug. “What is this one’s name?” I move towards the exquisite brown creature.
“This is Bruno.” Rhett pets Bruno’s massive side. When I turn, I see the other four horses lining up beside Bruno and Esmeralda.
“Now I can show you what I brought you out here for.” Rhett backs away and faces the line of horses. I follow, unsure of what’s about to happen.
“You’re not going to feed on them, are you?”
“No.” He laughs hysterically. “My, Aldo, you have quite the imagination.” He continues laughing, and my face heats as embarrassment and anger wash over me. “Okay, I’m sorry.” He tries to compose himself, sensing my frustration.
“Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Uno!” he yells, and Esmeralda stands on her hind legs.
“Dos!” Bruno follows, mimicking Esmeralda.
“Tres, cuatro, cinco, seis!” The other four horses follow Esmeralda and Bruno’s lead. All six horses stand on their hind legs until Rhett finally says, “Down.” They all come down at once.
“That was amazing.” I smile and clap.
“Take a bow my friends,” Rhett orders, and all six horses bow down before us.
“I didn’t know horses could stand on their hind legs like that for so long.” The magnificent performance seemed almost impossible.
“Yes, well they are highly trained.” He shrugs.
“I see your talents exceed healing and dream walking.”
“You have no idea.” He smiles coyly, and I blush.
“Esmeralda and Bruno have a few more tricks, but that’s all the six of them can do together.”
I pet Bruno’s large forehead, and he leans into my hand as if begging for more.
“He likes you.” Rhett’s tone is deep and certain.
“I have a way with men.” I roll my eyes.
“I can see that.” I’m not sure if he’s joking or not.
What is wrong with me? I totally set him up for that one—unintentionally. It makes me think of Whit and Hudson when they used to set each other up for, that’s what she said, jokes. It was so obnoxious.
“We better get them in the barn.” I follow him towards the gate. “Come,” he says loudly.
“I am.” I snap, annoyed that all day long I’ve been ordered to “come” like a dog by Sarah and now him too.
“I meant the horses.” He motions his hand in their direction.
“Oh.” I bite my lip. “Sorry.”
His lips press together as he eyes me with amusement.
I find myself smiling back, and then I scold myself internally for behaving this way. This man kidnapped me. He is not a good person. I guess technically, he’s not a person at all.
The horses follow us in a single file line. Rhett opens the gate and asks me to run ahead and open the stall doors. All of the horses mosey into their stalls, and we shut the doors behind them. He pets Esmeralda one more time, and we begin walking back towards the house.
The sun has fallen below the tree line, but it isn’t quite dark yet. My legs itch like crazy from multiple mosquito bites I got while standing out in the field. I keep stopping to scratch on the way.
“Bug bites?” Rhett questions.
“Yeah, guess they like me because I’m so sweet.”
“I bet you are.” He widens his eyes, and I cringe realizing he’s referencing a desire to drink my blood.
“So, what’s it like?” I clear my throat, changing the subject.
“What?”
“Well, being turned for starters.” I trot to catch up with him.
He tilts his head as if thinking about how to explain it. “Scary at first. I thought I was going to die.”
“Did you know they were turning you?”
“Yes, but when you feel your life being drained out of you, even knowing what’s happening, you can’t help but think you might die.” He runs a hand through his thick hair.
“Well technically, you are dead.” I shrug.
He halts and faces me with such ease I barely see him do it. “Am I?” His tone is deep, as if daring me to say yes. His gaze is heavy, and I stumble back feeling the weight of it directed at me.
“The walking dead. That’s what my aunt told me.” My voice is meek, like a small child.
“That isn
’t how I see it.” His voice is casual, and I can tell by the muscle tensing in his neck and jaw that I’ve struck a nerve, but he’s taking the high road, opting not say what he really wants to. I let my gaze fall to the ground, unable to bear the ponderosity of his stare. When I look up again, he’s ten feet in front of me. Damn, he’s fast.
“How do you see it?” I move to follow, but almost trip, catching myself in time.
Rhett doesn’t notice. “Only two things are different about you and me. I’m immortal and I drink blood for nourishment.”
“Is that all?” I reply sarcastically.
He shoots me a look over his shoulder that reminds me of Whit whenever I said something he didn’t find amusing. The thought of Whit makes my chest ache, but I quickly push it deep down.
“And to heal,” I add.
“Yes, but it’s double incentive.
“Okay.” I snort at his reasoning. “So how do you turn a human?” My stomach knots as I get the words out.
“Let’s not discuss that now. We have other things to focus on before we get to that point.” He shoves his hands in his pockets.
“So when will you turn me?” I stop and scratch my ankle, but this time Rhett stops and waits for me.
“When you ask me to.”
“I’ll never ask you to.” I stand and stare him straight in his eyes, so he can see I mean it. I will never ask him to change me, never.
“Then I will let you go.” He turns and continues walking.
My mind does a mental back-flip. “But you kidnapped me and threatened to hurt people I love. Why would you do that?”
“I just needed a chance to plead our case to you. Show you this world. I can’t turn an unwilling healer, it’s not my style.” We make our way up the porch and sit on the top step.
“But you sought me out…” I stop as my brain prepares for overload. What the hell is happening here? He forced me to come here only to let me choose whether I stay or not?
“That’s your perspective.”
“No, that’s how it happened. You said Sarah saw me heal the guy in the gas station, and that’s how you found me.”
