“For several days now, François, I have missed the times when you did not talk at all,” Phoenix answered curtly.
I reacted right away.
“Hey! But you had this discussion yesterday.”
They stayed quiet, waiting for me to finish.
“I was at the other end of the hallway after . . . uh . . . Phoenix healed me. You told François to shut up when he told you that our blood exchange had gotten out of control. I thought I’d dreamed it because I was too far away to reasonably hear you.”
I was quiet for a moment, but then I cried out, “What did you do to me?”
I thought I was angry, but it was more likely fear that had made me react. Phoenix clenched his teeth so hard I could hear them grinding against each other. It was François who answered me.
“Phoenix told me he healed you recently, before this time.”
“Yes. He bit me . . . by accident,” I hurried to add. “Then there was my encounter with Heath.”
“I see . . . You drank his blood again yesterday, and in a large quantity. The blood exchange can have unexpected consequences, especially when the two people in question have an attachment . . . like yours.”
Phoenix gave a warning growl that triggered dreadful trembling throughout my body. François took the threat seriously. My boss didn’t want to address the subject of our attachment either; he must find his friend’s suppositions about the tie that bound us just as ridiculous as I did. I didn’t know precisely why, but I was disappointed for a moment. I got a hold of myself, and François continued.
“Well . . . This sort of thing does not normally happen, but I think that Phoenix’s blood left a mark in your body.”
“But . . . that’s absurd,” I said in an effort to reassure myself.
“Of course it is absurd. Be quiet, François, or I promise that I will eject you from this car at the next curve,” Phoenix said threateningly.
But François didn’t back down.
“How else would you explain her sudden hearing acuteness if not from marking her?”
Phoenix was making a considerable and visible effort to contain the rage that was beginning to overwhelm him. The only thing I wanted to know at that moment was whether or not I would be turning into some sort of mutant monster.
“What’s going to happen to me?”
“I heard that a human marked by a vampire only shares powers for a time, and to a lesser extent of course. But I would never have thought that a human who only drank blood from the same vampire three times could get the mark so quickly,” said François, more wondering aloud than speaking to his audience. He seemed to find the whole thing fascinating. I found it horrifying.
I was going to share my boss’s powers. I’d always dreamed of being a strong and intimidating woman, a bit like Xena the Warrior Princess, but now I was lost in a nightmare for which I wasn’t at all prepared.
“But . . . I’ll get better?”
Phoenix shuddered slightly, hearing my question, as though I was saying he’d infected me with a sexually transmitted disease. It wasn’t nice, but too bad for him! It was his fault that we were in this mess. However, I also knew that if I hadn’t jumped on Karl so intensely, this would never have happened. Bingo. My anger was gone.
“Of course,” said François. “The mark’s effects are temporary. But it could take some time before they disappear completely. Look on the bright side. You will be stronger against our enemies.”
I’d never imagined . . . The beating I’d gotten from the fight with Karl had indeed been painful. This mark, even if it scared me, would allow me to be more effective when faced with danger. It was strange that other than my acute hearing, I didn’t feel any different. I was going to have to do some experiments to see just how far my new abilities went.
“Well, in that case, it doesn’t bother me as much.”
Phoenix swerved so violently that I was thrown to the other side of the backseat. I should have put on my seat belt, so I quickly made to fix my mistake.
“What’s gotten into you?”
My question set off one of my boss’s violent tantrums. My knees were knocking at the very memory of it.
In a quarter of a second, he’d transformed into a god of wrath whose aura of absolute rage crushed me in an immobilizing fear.
“What has gotten into me? Are you crazy or just oblivious? François just told you that I have removed part of your humanity to replace it with . . . a stain! If that does not bother you, that’s because you are completely deranged. Accepting that part of me is in you means rejecting your identity and your independence. How could you be so flippant?”
At the end of his tirade, his shoulders were heaving up and down as though he were trying to catch his breath.
He didn’t understand how I could so easily accept having his mark in me. So he hadn’t understood that I wanted to be stronger to help him?
Sobs threatened to force their way out of my mouth. I didn’t realize that I’d bitten my lip, drawing blood, in my attempt to not cry, until I tasted blood. My trembling resumed with even greater intensity, a physical consequence of my struggle against crying and embarrassing myself in front of them.
Phoenix suddenly slammed on the brakes, and we went into a controlled skid that would have made auto racers green with jealousy. He parked on the side of the road.
Before opening his door, Phoenix looked at François with such anger that his friend shrank into his seat.
“You, don’t you dare meddle in things that do not concern you ever again. If I see you get out of this car, I will tear your arms off.”
I’d never seen him like this before. He slammed the car door so hard when he got out that it shook violently. He came around the car, and my heart skipped a beat when I realized he was heading toward me.
He opened my door abruptly and grabbed me by the arm. Luckily, I’d unbuckled my seat belt as soon as we’d stopped. It was dark, but he forged ahead without the slightest hesitation. He had a painfully tight grip on my wrist as he pulled me behind him, leading me to the woods. I was so shocked and so focused on trying not to trip that I didn’t utter a single sound. Despite the darkness, the moonlight permitted me to see where I was stepping, and I heard the hoots of an owl, outraged at having been disturbed in her calm habitat.
Hidden under the trees, Phoenix pushed me brusquely ahead of him, and I collapsed on the ground, scraping my hands and knees. Too stunned to dwell on the pain, I settled for staring at him stupidly.
My look rekindled his anger, his eyes becoming so luminescent that their bluish and metallic flash was blinding.
“I free you from your obligations toward me,” he said plainly.
That simple phrase knocked the wind right out of me. It was as though all my muscles instantly liquefied when the meaning of the words he’d used finally reached my brain. My mouth went dry, and I struggled to swallow.
“What?” was the only thing I was able to say.
“It’s over. You are not my assistant anymore. You are fired.”
You are fired. How could he say that to me after all the lengths to which he’d gone to keep me with him? After what he’d said to me at the train station?
“I . . . no.”
The desperate emphasis of these monosyllables hadn’t been overplayed: my world was collapsing. When he turned his back to me to leave, I almost fainted, except that I hadn’t made such efforts to gain his trust to be treated like this.
I stood up, my legs like jelly.
“Look at me!” I shouted.
He could have continued walking and forgotten about me . . . but he stopped, though he didn’t turn around.
“Nothing you can say will change my mind. Go back to your life and forget me.”
Back to my life? Forget him?
“You . . . you told me I would die if I left . . . for the Secret.”
I was prepared to do anything to gain time, to gather a little strength so I could follow him.
“I s
hall arrange things so that you will be left alone. Good-bye.”
He took a few steps forward.
“You’re going to leave me here?”
Find something that will make him stay! Force him to stay with you!
“There is a road that leads to a farmhouse over there. Ask them for shelter. From there, with your new identity, you can start over.”
He took a couple more steps.
“I . . . no!” I screamed.
With all the force of despair, I started to run. I was afraid that he would use his powers to stop me from following him, but I caught up with him. Tripping on a branch, I stumbled and crashed into him with full force; the impact threw me backward and onto my ass. Refusing to admit defeat, I got up quickly and grabbed Phoenix by the arm.
He finally turned around; the look of disdain on his face pierced right through me and finally broke my heart. Closing my eyes, letting years flow down my cheeks, I threw myself against him and hammered his chest with my fists.
“How can you leave me when you came looking for me? How can you say these things to me when you said you were my friend? How can you abandon me when you’re all I have in the world?”
With every word, I got closer and closer to hysteria. I hit him, again and again, and he didn’t react.
Completely desperate, I knew that in a matter of seconds, I would lose him forever, and I let myself fall to my knees. My life had no meaning anymore without him guiding me. He was my anchor, my beacon, my only true friend. Seeing him leave would be like losing a part of myself, and I couldn’t accept that. I’d never cried like this before, the pain that I had felt when Karl hit me was nothing compared to the suffering that was imprisoning me in that moment.
Even from my abyss of pain, I felt it when he kneeled in front of me and placed his trembling hands on my shoulders. I even heard his voice: “Sam . . . I . . . no . . . I must separate myself from you. I only bring you suffering. You do not deserve that.”
His voice was utterly different. The disdain and anger had disappeared, and he sounded unsure, hesitant. I must have been dreaming.
Yes, I was dreaming, for his vampire notion about independence excluded the very possibility of sharing a part of himself with someone. And yet he had lost something to me, and for that reason he must hate me. That was it, he hated me, and that idea made me lose all control.
My torrent of suffering spilled forth in terrible sobs that made it hard to breathe normally. Points of light danced in front of my eyes, and a chasm threatened to swallow me up into the hell of his absence at any second.
After a moment that seemed infinite to me, while my consciousness decided to crouch down low and away from reality to save itself from my ocean of distress, a strange sensation came over me and forced me to wake up. I smelled a perfume . . . his scent. An embrace . . . again, his . . . the only one that could pull me out of my stupor.
Slowly, I came to. I was still on my knees on the ground . . . I was still having trouble breathing, but for another reason.
Phoenix was squeezing me against him so hard it hurt, and stroking my hair. It was his body against mine that had helped me regain consciousness. He hadn’t abandoned me . . . not yet. Despite that horrible prospect, I wrapped my arms around his waist and breathed in, perhaps for the last time, his reassuring smell. In the middle of the night, in a humid and hostile wood, we remained intertwined and silent for a long time.
Phoenix spoke first. “I thought I was protecting you by letting you take your life back . . . I cannot bear to see you hurt because of me, it makes me sick . . . And that mark . . . that was the final straw. It made me crazy. I bring nothing good to your life, and yet you want to stay with me. Why?”
His words washed over me like a miraculous balm. He didn’t hate me.
“Every day, you make me better. At your side, I feel like I’m the person I always wanted to be. You’re the most important person in the world to me, my best friend.”
“I promised to never hurt you . . . I have broken my promise.”
Hope was starting to return to my heart, but I was too afraid of being wrong. Was he apologizing for wanting to send me away? Did he want me to come back?
“Sam . . . for five hundred years, I did not matter to anyone. There were François and Karl of course, but that is not the same . . . I did not think that you would react like that, I . . . I thought you would be happy to go back to your human life . . . without vampires. François was right . . . I feel connected to you, and the idea of something happening to you because of me is terrifying. I wish . . . no, I want you stay with me.”
“Why?” I said in a whisper.
He held me a little closer. “Because I need you at my side to feel alive.”
He’d said everything. The open wound in my chest closed up immediately, the chasm of despair disappeared, and my breathing became normal.
“I forbid you from abandoning me.”
“I will never abandon you.”
He resumed stroking my hair, and I finally relaxed.
“François thinks we are in love.”
“The very idea,” he said, laughing.
I smiled. “I’m relieved that there are no misunderstandings between us. Because when we get back to the car, he’s going to believe it all the more.”
“Let him believe what he wants. Will you be OK?”
“My legs are rubbery, but I think I can walk.”
He helped me stand, then took my hands, staring me in the eyes.
“Can you forgive me?”
“You tried to protect me . . . it was badly done and very brutal. But I forgive you.”
When we left the woods, I caught of glimpse François’s face through the car window, and I saw his expression change from one of worry to immense relief. However, taking note of my boss’s last warning, he didn’t dare come to meet us and settled for watching us approach. Phoenix had put a protective right arm around my shoulders, and he was holding my right hand in his left. My knees were covered in mud, my hair had come undone, and my eyes were puffy and red from crying, but I was smiling.
Not a single word on the matter was exchanged inside the car for the rest of the trip to our destination.
Everything had been said, and now the secret of the strength of the bond that united us finally had been revealed. It would stay protected by the discretion of the fauna and flora of a little wood in Kerington County.
Sunnie’s was frequented by all the biker gangs of east Kerington; any wars between them were buried in this sacrosanct bar, which was recognized for the quality of its beer. The proprietor, a giant bearded man as wide as he was tall, was capable of stopping the least dispute among the gang members. He never hesitated to knock troublemakers on their backsides with the butt of a rifle. He loved and collected guns—hence his nickname, Trigger-Finger Clyde.
In our field of vision, there were leather, beards, bandanas, and billiard cues, not to mention the pints of beer set on the tables. The room was filled with cigarette smoke and the looks . . . well, they were turned to the newcomers: Phoenix, François, and me.
“This is my playing field. Allow me,” I said to the vampires as I stepped in front of them.
My first obstacle was two huge bikers whose arms had the same circumference as their thighs: instead of letting me pass, they barred my path. I wanted to take care of this like a professional to impress my boss and François.
“It’s in your best interest to let me through.”
When the two bodybuilders standing in front of me whistled with admiration after leering at me indiscreetly, the growl I identified as Phoenix’s, always so particular about manners, pushed me quickly into action.
Without a second thought, I seized the pint of beer from the hand of the one on the right, and while he looked at it stupidly, I planted a kick in the left one’s junk, before doing the same to the other guy with my knee. Thanks to Phoenix’s blood, I was much more accurate and powerful in my movements . . .
Sin
ce they were on the ground and rolling back and forth to try to soothe the pain in their nether regions, they no longer represented an immediate danger. However, I was going to have to deal with their friends.
Eyeing them with an infinitely superior air, I raised my enormous pint to them and drank it all down in great gulps before setting it down hard on the table to their looks of amazement.
“Where I’m from, that’s how you deal with those who disrespect women! But you guys all seem to be much more polite, so next round’s on me!” I shouted out to anyone who would listen, hoping that the ridiculous stereotypes about biker gangs and their insatiable thirst for drinking would be well-founded for once.
My offer was met with a thunder of applause, and a wave of large humans headed to the bar, but not without trampling the two idiots who had had the audacity to insult me.
As we fought our way through the beer-loving crowd with difficulty, Trigger-Finger Clyde stepped in front of us.
“Nice switcheroo there, little lady. You know how to talk to them. Except for me, I’m not happy with pretty words alone. I hope you have money to pay for that round.”
Before I could answer, a thick wad of bills appeared in Clyde’s hand.
“We have to see someone, and you are wasting our time. I hope that will be enough to cover our expenses . . . and the disruption,” Phoenix said to cut the conversation short.
Not liking Phoenix’s tone, Clyde tried to protest, but I managed to calm him.
“We won’t be here long. I assure you that your establishment won’t regret our presence, especially since we too will be consuming.”
“Humph. Go ahead, but if you raise a stink again, I’ll throw you out. Understood?”
“Don’t worry about it,” I reassured him with a big smile.
He left, and we began to look for Bobby the Eel. François whispered “I am very impressed by your combat technique, Samantha,” which made me laugh. I couldn’t help turning to my boss and throwing him a look full of meaning: So you wanted to get rid of me, huh?
He wasn’t able to stop his smile before it appeared, and that delighted me.
Finally, I spotted our man.
Chronicles of an Extraordinary Ordinary Life Page 27
