However, to sit there beside her was a difficult thing for me to do. Never before had I been faced with so certain an ending, so long in advance of the actual event. Never before had I felt so helpless, so inadequate. In all my life there had been action, a thing to do to prevent or to accomplish an ending. Now, I was forced to simply wait and watch. She grew smaller as time went on, dropping several pounds a month as her appetite faded. Her sparkling eyes lost some of their gleam, and the fire was gone from her voice. The symptoms which I had failed to notice before became more evident, the pain undeniable. A cough so deep as to seem to come from somewhere outside herself racked her body. Her eyes grew sunken and darkened with the struggle to breathe. Her heartbeat slowed. I could hardly stand to be there, and yet I could have been nowhere else.
“Is this how your whole life has been, constantly replacing the dying with the new?” she asked one night as I sat beside her bed.
“No, actually … I have never seen death like this before. Always to me it comes quickly, harshly. Never is it expected, anticipated. This is new to me too,” I said softly, my eyes on her pale hand.
“She will become what I can never be,” she said. “Her you will bring to you, if you don't kill her first.”
“No, Lu Sin, please. I decided long ago that I would never do that again.” I held myself still beside her, hoping to contain the truth within myself, that she might not see it. My voice was scarcely a whisper, the words escaping despite my fear to speak.
“You told me once that you had wanted her when she was still an infant. Do you deny that the desire has only grown stronger now that she is grown?”
“No, I won't deny it. Nor will I lie and say that I have never desired you as well. Even now there is some measure of it in me, some craving to know you in ways only a killer can know.”
There was silence for a while then, before the coughing spell shook her increasingly frail frame. When it subsided she smiled weakly. “I know why you deny me, my friend. I know, and I forgive you. I hope that before it is over you will change your mind, but if I die first, I wanted you to know.”
I stayed with her until she slept, then rose, surprised to find Joy in the doorway. “She hasn't long, you know,” she said softly. “Another week, maybe a month.”
Her blue eyes were dark and glazed over, as if she wasn't truly seeing the room or anything in it. “Will you save her?” she asked breathlessly as her eyes snapped back to me.
I wondered if she knew what that meant, but it was clear that she accepted unequivocally that I was able to save her. “I cannot. She knows that.”
“Does she?” She sighed, heavier than a child of her small years should have been able. I touched her arm, feeling my soul fill with her, as it had when I had held her in my arms. I closed my eyes and echoed the sigh. I let myself melt a little, let her arms fold around me. It seemed as though I had felt that touch before. My head was swimming with images, my heart pounding with suddenly remembered desires. The touch of her skin on mine was like an iron hot from the fire, awakening me. The smell of her overpowered the odor of dying in the room, overwhelmed my senses. I could feel the life moving through her with every beat of that tender heart and I craved the taste of it. I was trembling when I at last pulled away, trembling with the effort to restrain the sudden swarming of need within me. I left her there in the hall and fled out into the night.
It was nearly dawn before I returned, quietly sliding off to my room without even checking on the children or Lu Sin. I was afraid of myself. I had hunted while I wandered the night, but found myself unwilling to feed. The animals that I could have easily were not what my soul craved. I crawled into my bed fully dressed and aching. I could smell them both as though they were in the room with me. Lu Sin's dying body cried out for release, the stench of impending death drawing and repelling me at the same time. Joy's rapid, youthful heartbeat danced around it, dizzying as her warm, living scent beckoned. I bit my own lip, feeling the Change come, unable to prevent it. I tasted blood as the sharp fangs fell into place.
I covered my head and closed my eyes, but visions of them filled my head, Joy innocent and laughing, Lu Sin pleading for mercy from her pale face. I rose from the bed and began pacing my room in an agitated pace, my hands balled tightly at my sides as I fought my inner demon. Lu Sin's coughing had grown worse. I longed for her, to be with her, comfort her … hold her while I at long last tasted of her. I had always wanted her, as I did all of humanity that I let get close enough. The more I knew of her, the worse the wanting had become. Now it mixed with my desire to offer her mercy, to ease her passing.
I was rationalizing. I drew a deep, tight breath and released it slowly. I found myself at the bedroom door. One step beyond that door and my control would disappear completely. I knew it beyond a doubt. I forced myself from the door to perch precariously on the edge of the bed. I reached for the bottle on my nightstand, but I had drained it that evening upon rising. I threw it against the wall in a rage. I would have to make more to get through this day. It might be the only thing that would save my friends. I flew from the room to the lab and into the work. The Change refused to leave me as I pounded through the familiar routine. In three-quarters of an hour I had a nearly full bottle and drank deeply.
I spit it out almost immediately, the red-pink, thick fluid still warm and absolutely retched in my current state of mind. I paced then around the lab, breaking beakers and flasks older than my daughter in my anger at my inability to control myself. I heard Lu Sin moving about, the noise had wakened her. I didn't want her to see me, I was ashamed of myself, and I knew she would hate me to see me this way and unable to bring her to me as she wanted. I listened for a long time, until the noises had subsided, then let myself back out into the hall.
Four heartbeats twisted around one another in the languid rhythms of sleep. Two of them seemed to echo one another, playing tag with my attention. I was breathless as I found myself at Joy's door, watching as she slept. Her angelic face was peaceful, so unaware of the monster that stood to prey on her.
I don't remember entering that room, or sitting on that bed. I cannot recall bending to her tender neck or opening my fanged mouth to that insistently beating vein. But, I do know the exact moment when the divinity of her taste first touched me. A moment I tasted, lingering on that first touch … the warmth, the fresh, sweet ecstasy of it. A fire raced within me, igniting my mind and heart and soul. In that one taste, I became aware.
Joy … this child, had a soul as old as mine, handed down for centuries past in search of the one who had saved it from destruction. I saw from a child's eyes as a demon with the body of a girl left it abandoned beside two dead bodies. I saw a celebrated lifetime as a holy woman who had performed miracles as a child. I saw a hundred lifetimes come and go. I saw Adroushan, I saw Rebeka. This … child, and that, and all of them in between. All with the same blonde hair, the same sapphire eyes … all looking somehow for me.
I pulled back, her blood still on my lips. I wiped at the wound I had made and backed away from her. Tears stung my eyes and rolled over my cheeks. I hated myself, and whatever had brought this soul back to me. I was mad with need and incensed with her blood. My body screamed for more.
Before I had become fully aware of myself I was beside Lu Sin's bed. The sound of her filled the room, the scent of her decaying flesh rose to me and competed with the fresh perfume of Joy that still clung to me. Her eyes alone betrayed the fear that suddenly rose in her. I was the picture of death come to take the remainder of her life from her. I fell on her before either of us could speak to deter me from it. I tore into her tender, graceful neck and drank deeply. The blood was thicker than that of the child's, richer … darker. It was hot with the fever. It tasted of the illness which worked to claim her life. But, I wasn't going to let it have her. In my delusional state, she was mine and in that moment of complete irrationality I took the disease into myself, for it would have to conquer me before I would let it take her.
It was over in minutes. I knelt beside her, the Change subsiding, the fire diminished. My tears soaked the dress I still wore. There was blood on it as well. It was over. The dying was done for that day. “Forgive me,” I said softly as I rose to leave the room.
“There is nothing to forgive,” she said.
I did not sleep the rest of the day, but I lay in my bed, dressed and unable to move. I had done that which I had sworn not to, I had taken yet another life. Things would be forever different in our home. When I arose it was early, still an hour or more before dark. I went first to Willemenia's room, where she was preparing a lesson. “I cannot explain, but there is a chance you will no longer be safe here. You should gather your belongings and go to town. I will forward your final pay and a letter of recommendation.”
Her dark eyes regarded me for a long moment. “Is it your friend?”
I nodded, stepping back to give her space to rise from the chair. “Yes.”
“Has he come for her?”
I somehow knew she meant Dovan. “No, I did it myself.”
“What of the children?”
I didn't want to think about that. “I will care for them.” She stood and began packing her belongings. “I am glad to have met you, Willemenia. I am sorry we couldn't have known one another better.” I left her then, trusting that she would be gone shortly. I gathered the children then and set off into the night. I did not want to be there when Lu Sin woke and discovered what it was she had asked to become. We walked half the night, wandering and playing in the wild fields and meadows. If Joy knew anything of the night before she said nothing. The wound on her neck was small, and healing already. They spoke nothing of Lu Sin, for which I was grateful. For a moment there was just the three of us at play.
Eventually, when we had gone too far to return before daylight, I made the decision that we would stop in to visit Dovan. We arrived in the early hours of the morning when he and Justine were just settling in to sleep. They welcomed us eagerly, putting the yawning children to bed in my former room, and sitting casually with me near a drowsy fire.
“So, your young friend is dead?” he asked in that casual, yet piercing way of his.
“In a manner of speaking,” I replied, my eyes locked unseeing on the tiny blaze.
He didn't say anything, just took Justine's hand. For a long time we sat there, the three of us, silently watching the dimming flame. Then they rose and retired to their room. I sat in that cavern, watching the shifting patterns of light at the entrance as daylight came to the mountain. I had a passing thought of Lu Sin, and then I too rose. I walked to the small pool of daylight, squinting into the brightness. My mind was absent of anything. There was only this empty, hollow feeling inside of me, with no real emotion or desire or thought. I was suddenly exhausted, alone.
I stood there a long, long time, just inside the morning glare. I don't know why or what eventually propelled me to leave the light and crawl into bed with the children, but I did. I fell quickly into the deep, undisturbed sleep of my mother's people, letting it drain the fatigue from me. When I woke it was quiet around me. The children were gone. I rose and stretched. It felt strange to be there in that room again, and yet perfectly comfortable. I could smell something cooking in the common room, and with the rumbling of my stomach, set out to find it.
Dovan was there, alone. He was roasting some type of meat over a low fire, and very obviously waiting for me. I sat beside him. It was quiet for a long time. “They are lovely children. Francis seems to have blossomed since I saw her last.”
“Thank you, Dovan. She is my pride.”
“Joy is … dangerous. She seems to know things which she is too young to know.”
I nodded. “Indeed. She will be a great woman one day.”
“If she lives that long.” He rubbed his neck with his free hand to indicate he had seen the bite marks.
“A moment of weakness,” I said, dropping my gaze.
“The same moment in which you went to your friend?”
“The same.” I wanted to cry, to feel him fold his arms around me and tell me that it was going to be all right.
“I've been down to see her. She's is well enough, considering she has only animals to feed on. That is hard on a young one.”
“I warned her of it. She wanted it anyway. I never meant this.”
“And the tutor?”
“I sent her away.”
The sounds of the children returning ended the conversation, but I knew it was only the beginning. I would have to return to Lu Sin, I would have to begin her new life. I wanted to crawl into the ground instead. It was a quiet meal, with Justine entertaining Francis and Joy while I sulked. When it was done I thanked Dovan for his hospitality and led my family back down the mountain. We would make it just before sunrise if we hurried.
Chapter 22
Lu Sin was quiet. I could feel her hunger, her fear before we had even reached the cottage. Joy could sense it too I think. Her face was pale and drawn with more than weariness as we approached. I was slightly apprehensive, for now Lu Sin would understand the desires I had barely in check … now she too would have to fight herself to keep Joy alive. More than that, she had no familial connection to Francis, so I had to consider the danger there as well. I took a deep breath and led the children inside. Lu Sin was in her room, waiting perhaps for my return. I sent the children off to bed quickly and knocked at her door.
She sat wrapped in a quilt, looking more robust and lively than she had in a year or more. Her eyes were bright, even in the dark of the room, and they spoke of the illumination inside of her with the quickening of her new life. “Are you well?” I asked as I sat on the bed across from her chair.
“Well enough. And you?”
I inclined my head in a motion of acceptance. “I will survive this.” It was strange to me, the absolute lack of emotion I felt at that moment. This was a child of mine, as was Moira and Racelle and the others, and yet there was nothing of a guardianship feeling to it, nothing but the absence of anything. I hung my head as I considered it.
Her cold hand touched my knee. “I asked, and you gave what I asked for. Do not blame yourself for what I have become.”
“Do you blame me?”
She was quiet and when I looked up she seemed to be listening to something I didn't hear. “It was as it was meant to be. I was brought to you, exactly for this. I could blame you no more than I blame the mother who birthed me.” Her voice had the ring of antiquity in it, her accent suddenly thick and untouched by her years among the English speaking.
So she said to me whenever I took pause to ask her, and yet the very air in that cabin changed. It was either charged with the electricity of the youth or our desire of it, or stale and unmoving. There was nothing in the middle anymore. Every night Lu Sin was gone longer and longer, journeying further and further from our home in search of satisfying meals. Sooner or later the need would lead her away from us entirely.
She was much as I had pictured she would be, a solitary and simple vampire, who saw her needs as natural and to be dealt with efficiently, as humanity does its meals. She slowly dropped all pretenses at prettying herself, beyond the combing of that long, straight black mane. Her clothes were simple, black and long, the better to shield her from the rising of the sun should she be caught out late. She withdrew into her room for weeks on end, pouring herself over the immense library of ancient texts which she had previously shown no interest in. Her comings and goings were nearly silent and unnoticed by us, she was simply there and gone.
Joy's gifts, handed down through centuries were honed in those months, and she would look up from some game with Francis and her eyes betrayed the knowledge her mind held. She knew Lu Sin's frenzied feeding. She felt the waves of desire that often brought me within inches of her young heart. Francis occasionally caught glimpses of it, her own gifts, those my own unnatural creation had given to her, lending her the vision to see into her friend's mind. It was a time of learning, a time when n
one of us could truly trust the others, save for young Francis. The world revolved around her and her growth. It was as if we had all assembled in that place to offer her what knowledge we each had.
The rest went on around her, and other than those moments when she touched Joy's mind, she was unaware. I lay awake many mornings, listening to Joy and Francis settling into bed, listening to Lu Sin's returning or absence … or pacing in her room. I stood at the bedroom door where my foster child slept and watched, seeming as if I could see her physically growing, maturing. I ached inside, but the desires had dimmed somewhat with the making of Lu Sin, as had the other emotions in my life.
We rarely spoke of anything, Lu Sin and I communicated with looks and gestures and the silent phrases of the blood we now shared. Francis was completely caught up in her friendship with Joy, and the words between them were likewise few. Their silent conversations floated around me, mine for the asking, but I refrained.
A year passed, two, in this way. I missed the way it had been, the laughter and precious moments we had shared before Joy had joined us. I didn't resent her coming, but I knew now, as Lu Sin had before that it was not the right thing to have done, for her or for us. Francis was to be thirteen; Joy had matured into a beautiful young woman, nearly sixteen years old. We planned to celebrate with a party, gifts, and cake. I had even journeyed into town myself, braving the bright spring sun to purchase gifts for my girls.
On the designated night, Lu Sin was gone on her hunt for a short time, returning with a spring in her step and a true smile on her face for the first time in many, many months. We sang songs from our childhoods for the children, and they sang songs Joy had learned in school. We ate white cake with white frosting and a pudding Joy had taught me to make. It was a scene filled with family love, the last I was to remember from that time.
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