The Vampire's Warden

by S. J. Wright

  Facing the screened window, she took several long deep breaths and then her shoulders slumped.

  “Doesn’t matter, does it?” She whispered.

  “It might. Alex said she had good reasons for leaving…” I started.

  “Alex? What the does he have to do with this?” Then she threw her hands up to prevent my answer, bent down to grab her shoes and turned away, “Forget it. I do not want to know. I wish you had never brought this up, Sarah.”

  Nevertheless, I needed her. She knew me. She understood. What was she doing?

  She disappeared into the house and I heard her quick steps tapping up the stairs to her room.

  Nelly came out with a puzzled look on her face, “What was that all about?”

  I leaned over, buried my face in my hands, and mumbled, “I told her about Mom still being alive.”

  The cushion next to me sank as Nelly settled herself beside me, her familiar girth comforting me as I cursed myself for what I had revealed. She wrapped one heavy arm around me and pulled me close, “Oh, sweetie. I’m sorry.”

  I lifted my head and met her sad eyes, “Why didn’t anyone tell me? Why didn’t you?”

  She sighed, “You don’t know how many times I was tempted to do just that, honey.” The lines on her weathered face seemed deeper this morning and it occurred to me that this burden had been weighing her down for years. I tried to imagine being the caretaker of two small girls who had suddenly lost their mother. I had never considered what it might have cost her. Or why she stayed to take care of everything.

  “When Selena and your Dad started having problems, I tried to mind my own business.” She laced her fingers together on her lap and stared down at them. They were the hands of a working woman. Sometimes they would get so dry in the winter; her knuckles would crack and bleed. They were the same hands that wiped away tears, developed calluses by pushing brooms, pounded flour into dough for dinner rolls. She regarded them sadly as she spoke, “She started going into town more often. She started drinking. I guess your Dad was hoping it was a phase she was going through. She paid less attention to things around here. Every day, another new job was given to me to be responsible for.”

  “What changed?”

  She shook her head slowly, “Oh, honey. Your Mom hated living out here. She didn’t want the responsibility of it. She did love your Dad, but it just wasn’t enough.”

  Pain struck me like a lightning bolt. It was not enough. What about us, her own children? I felt the now-familiar hot and heavy tears begin to fill my eyes, and Nelly pulled me against her with both arms, “I know it’s hurtful. It seems impossible to you, honey. But some people just don’t bond with their children the way they should. It has nothing to do with you personally.” I wanted to push her away. Her betrayal was still a fresh wound to me. However, numbness had begun to push my angry thoughts into the background.

  Katie suddenly flew through the door, a coat draped around her and barked out, “I’m going for a walk.”

  Then Alex struck out after her with grim purpose darkening his eyes. He glanced at me quickly as he followed Katie out. I hoped he would calm her down. More importantly, he needed to keep her away from the meadow. The idea of my sister encountering Michael made me feel physically ill.

  They returned an hour later. I had been helping Nelly clean up the breakfast dishes and we both paused when Alex came through the door. His expression was brooding. I put away the bowl I had been drying and gave him a questioning look.

  “Katie’s decided to head back to school early. She’s packing.”

  Nelly went to him and laid a hand on his arm, “How’s she doing? Any better?”

  He shook his head slightly, “She’s confused and angry. But with some time, I think she’ll be fine.”

  “I wish she’d stay.” I said.

  Then I heard her coming down the stairs and I went to meet her in the entry. She had her bright blue backpack hanging over one shoulder. Her eyes were red rimmed and bright with tears she had held back. There was also an edge to her expression, anger so bright and fiery that I felt the need to take a step back.

  “I’ll call you when I get back to the dorm.” She ground out.

  “Katie, please stay and talk to me about this.”

  Her head shook in denial. “No. I need some time.”

  She pushed past me and left through the front door without a hug or even a sisterly farewell. I watched her wrench open the passenger side door of her Jeep, throw her backpack in, slam the door, and march to the driver’s side. I stayed there at the front door, watching as she drove down in the direction of the road.

  Maybe I could have done something more. I should have forced her to talk to me, to work this thing out and decide together where to go from here. However, how much could I tell her? She had not asked to see the journal, and I hoped that she might have forgotten about it.

  The afternoon was waning when I went in search of Alex. The golden light of the setting sun dusted everything with warmth. The tops of the trees, the white trim of the windows on the outside of the house, the roof of the barn across the lane from Alex’s cabin.

  I found him in the main aisle of the barn, running a currycomb through the mud on Messenger’s hindquarters. Settling myself on a tack trunk near Messenger’s stall, I gritted my teeth and leaned with my elbows on my knees, staring at the concrete floor.

  “You need to tell me everything, Alex.”

  Messenger swished her tail once and shifted her weight, giving a satisfied sigh as Alex continued to rid her of the dirt caked into her dark coat. He was quiet for a long time and I wondered if he would say anything.

  Just when I was ready to give up and leave, he began to speak in a low tone.

  “I grew up in Chicago. We moved to San Francisco four days after I turned seventeen.” The currycomb continued moving in smooth strokes down the mare’s flanks and over her back, “I was angry with my parents for making me leave my friends, my school. Everything.”

  He put the currycomb back in the grooming bucket and turned to me, “I rebelled. I stayed out past curfew, got into trouble with the law. Then I met her.”

  I studied him curiously and waited.

  “She was beautiful. Hell, more than beautiful.” He flashed a hint of a smile, “She was older, obviously experienced. She had me wrapped around her little finger in a matter of days. Sex was not something entirely new to me, but she made it something… Magical.”

  His full lips pursed as he picked up a body brush and began to groom the horse again.

  “She wasn’t exactly what I thought she was.”

  “What do you mean?”

  His eyes met mine and the sardonic gleam there made me catch my breath.

  “She was a vampire.”

  “Oh…” I cupped my hands around my mouth in surprise.

  “Her name was Selena.”

  Chapter Five

  Rage gripped me like a fist, closing around my heart, and before I realized what I was doing, I had jumped up and shoved Alex as hard as I could.

  “You’re lying!” I spouted, “I don’t know who you really are, or what the hell you think you’re trying to do, but you’re sick. You’re telling me that my mother left her family and then picked you up like some cougar?”

  He had not been expecting that kind of outburst and staggered against the wall of one of the horse stalls, shooting me a look of surprised anger.

  Messenger sidestepped away from both of us, her eyes wide in panic. Alex straightened and immediately began to soothe her with soft words while rubbing her neck. She started to settle down again under his gentle care and let out a resounding snort before lowering her head slightly.

  Alex addressed me without meeting my look, “It's true, Sarah. Your mother is a vampire. That is part of the reason she left. Michael turned her. She begged him to do it.”

  I had been pushing against this new pain so hard, trying so desperately to hold it back, but I could not do it anymore. A towering wa
ve of betrayal crashed over me. It was black and heavy, weighing me down and crushing what I thought I was supposed to be.

  I remember stumbling from the barn with tears streaming down my cheeks and I remember the salty taste when one would slip past my lips. I remember the sounds of the night creeping over the landscape around me. However, I lost the rest of what happened that evening. I only knew I was drowning and nobody could save me.

  The night closed in and I let the wave take me.

  The dream was a shimmery thing hanging over me like a net. Michael was there, murmuring to me softly like a lover.

  “Stop this. You had no hand in it. Let go, damn you.” The emotion in his tone left no doubt it was just a strange dream. Michael was a heartless murderer.

  He went on, pleading with me and cursing me in the same breath.

  “I’ve seen you handle some of the worst that fate can dish out, you little fool. Now you’re going to let the actions of one woman take you out for good? I expected far more from you, Sarah.” His icy look met mine, his arching brows drawn down in frustration, “Get up. Move on. Damn you! Let go of me! What witchery is this? I must be going mad.”

  It occurred to me that he could not leave me in this state for some off reason. How strange, I thought. Such a powerful entrancing creature. Vampire. I wondered what it would feel like to have his lips on my neck, his throat burning for my blood.

  “No. How are you doing this? I can hear you, Sarah. If you think it’s a dream, then wake the hell up. You’ve had a panic attack. WAKE UP, GOD DAMN IT!”

  A tiny giggle escaped my throat. What a funny little dream. Michael was yelling at me. The darkness came folding back over me slowly and I did not fight it at all.

  Later, I heard more voices.

  “Sarah? Oh, my God.” Then savagely, “Tell me you didn’t touch her, you bastard.” That was Alex’s voice. I struggled to open my eyes and tried to sit up but the effort was wasted. I felt so cold. My fingers were numb, and my body was wracked with tremors from both the cold air outside and the strain within.

  “I was a perfect gentleman, thank you very much.” Michael replied.

  Then came heavy footsteps, and I heard Joe’s low rumbling tone, “Is she alright?”

  “Such a weird dream.” I heard myself say in an unusual tone. I was so hoarse, and my throat seemed to burn intensely when the words came out, so I said nothing more. Strong arms wrapped around me, and I was lifted. The ground came away under me. The world went silent once again.

  “Take her temperature every few hours. We don’t want this to turn into a hospital stay for pneumonia.”

  When I opened my eyes, I realized I was back in my bed at the main house. There were no less than three quilts covering me, a cup of what looked to be fresh steaming tea sitting on my nightstand and Dr. Fleming watching me from the foot of my bed with his arms crossed and a worried frown puckering his mouth.

  “Nelly, she’s waking up.” He said.

  A familiar hand pressed against my brow, “She’s still very warm.”

  “Of course I’m warm,” I croaked, “I’m being smothered by these stupid quilts.”

  Nelly’s face brightened a bit at my complaint, “Well, now. Her temper’s on the mend, at least.” She fussed around me for a long time, taking off one quilt, replacing it with a thin blanket, then taking that one off as well and replacing that with a sheet. She forced me to take a sip of the tea she had made and then hustled downstairs with the cup muttering at herself because she had forgotten the honey.

  “You want to tell me what happened, Sarah?” The doctor asked.

  I was not sure what to say and ended up revealing only a little of the truth, “I’ve been upset lately about Dad.” I sighed and readjusted myself so I was sitting up further against the pillows, “It’s been rough. I think I kind of freaked out or something.”

  “He was a good man. I miss him too.” He walked over to my dresser, picked something up, and brought it to me. The journal was steady in his hand as he looked on me thoughtfully, “There’s a letter in here that your father wrote to you. Have you read it?”

  I took the journal from him and flipped to the back. A single folded sheet of yellow legal paper fell onto my lap. I glanced at Dr. Fleming shortly before unfolding it. When I saw my father’s familiar scratchy handwriting, I felt my heart beat speed up. I had not realized exactly how much I had missed him until that very moment.

  Dearest Sarah,

  You know I’m not much for writing. But I owe you some answers and I aim to give them to you. I found out that I had cancer a year ago. I didn’t want to go through any chemo-type stuff. I figure that if God gave me cancer, he did it for a good reason. I’ve also got a lot of faith in my girls. You especially, Sarah. You’ve always been real strong, honey. Katie was always the book smart one and you were the one with a backbone made of solid steel.

  The load I’ve left for you to carry is a heavy one. I ain’t just talking about the Inn either. When you read this journal, you’ll understand more about all that. I want you to know that I love you. I trust you to make the right decisions for yourself. Nelly will be there to help you when I’m gone, bless her soul. Joe will stay on to do the chores as long as his old bones hold out.

  You and Katie-bug will need to lean on each other. If you can keep her from knowing about the meadow, I figure she’ll be better off. Make sure she keeps up with her studies. She’s gonna make a great vet one day.

  -Dad

  P.S. One of these days, I want you to ride that mare. She’s a waste of good hay otherwise.

  I chuckled through my tears. Looking up at Dr. Fleming, I smiled a little, “Thank you.”

  He gave me a nod of acknowledgment and turned to go. Stopping in the doorway, he turned back and said, “The Council will be sending representatives soon to meet with you.” He stepped out of the room and I heard him make his way down the hallway.

  I stared at the empty doorway with my mouth wide open. The Council? Had the doctor read my Dad’s journal? How much did he know? Could Dr. Fleming be involved in this? I pressed my hands against my warm cheeks, hardly believing it to be possible.

  Later, I regarded Nelly’s entrance with lingering shock still coursing through me. “Alright, young lady. You finish your tea and then I’m bringing up a bowl of my chicken soup.” She insisted, “And I expect you to eat every bite. Then you’re going to rest.”

  “I’m twenty-three years old, Nelly. Not five.”

  She huffed and leaned over to put the third quilt back into place again over my legs, “Well, then you should take better care of yourself, missy.”

  “Then there wouldn’t be anything left for you to do.” I replied with a wry grin.

  Trying to be a good patient, I ate most of what Nelly brought up for me and I began to read the journal again. My grandfather had done some research, apparently. His handwriting was illegible at times, but he was thorough and descriptive. He explained in detail some meetings he had had with the Council. They had explained to him that the first vampire warden had been a Pawnee ancestor of mine who had an encounter with a vampire. The vampire had lived for centuries wandering the Earth and wanted find a safe place to rest. The tribe’s medicine man called upon the power of Tirawa, the creation God, to create a sacred place where the vampire could rest. The ceremony was performed in song and dance around a sacred medicine bundle.

  When it was over, the vampire dug himself down into the Earth for the “long sleep.” When the vampire awoke, he found that he could not leave. The medicine man explained that the vampire’s warden must approve before the vampire could set off again. There was a magical field of energy surrounding the sacred resting place.

  No vampires could come in or leave without the consent of the Warden. My father had been the Warden. Now it was me. I closed the journal but kept the letter from Dad and pushed it under my pillow.

  The lamp on my nightstand issued the only light in my room. Night had descended on the Inn, and there was only
the sound of the wind against my window as I put the journal on my nightstand and switched off the lamp.

  I tossed one of the quilts off my legs and turned on my side, facing the window. Alex had not made an appearance at all since our fight in the barn. It seemed odd, but I missed him. His bright smile and dancing green eyes had become something I counted on seeing every morning. I still was not completely sure he had been telling the truth about my mother, but given what I had read in the journal, anything was possible.

  I slept without dreaming.

  Chapter Six

  Once I felt a little better, I attempted to throw myself back into the daily chores around the Inn. The family renting the big lodge had checked out and we did not have any reservations scheduled for another two weeks. Then the fall rush would begin, and I knew I would be too busy to think about Alex, Michael, or the whole Warden thing.