Damon

by Vanessa Hawkes

  I rested my cheek against his head. “I won’t leave. I promise. What do the voices say?”

  “I just felt really good,” he said. He squeezed me tighter, until my ribs hurt.

  “Too tight,” I grunted.

  He loosened his grip.

  “Real clear,” he continued. “It wasn’t anything, just me feeling good. Powerful and real. That happens to normal people. It does.”

  “You’re right. It does.” I stroked his hair lazily, hoping he would grow sleepy. “It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

  “It was your blood.” He sat up suddenly and wrapped his hand around my throat, very lightly, and stared past my shoulder with fierce eyes. “That’s what it is,” he whispered. He looked at me and released my neck. He stroked my cheek with the back of his hand. “How do you feel?”

  “A little tired, but not bad.”

  “I mean earlier. How did you feel after we drank?”

  “Oh, sort of… strange, kind of… bright and really alive.”

  “Me, too,” he said, holding me with a steady gaze. “I felt totally sane. Didn’t you?”

  “Yeah, but I do most of the time. Until I do something unbelievably shocking. This afternoon I just felt more alert… more aware. More energetic but not nervous.”

  “You don’t have voices?” he asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “Mine went away until my high started wearing off.” He picked lazily at the corners of my bandage, and I knew what he was thinking. He wanted to drink again. Still, I waited to see what he would do.

  He picked and folded an edge of the bandage then let his hand fall gently down my chest. He leaned in and breathed on my neck, then sat back and traced the flower pattern on my nightshirt with his finger.

  “What do the voices say to you?” I asked.

  He shrugged, still working on a large rose. “Different things, different times. Sometimes just a couple of words, sometimes he talks till I want to put a bullet through my brain to shut him up.”

  “And it sounds like a different person? Not just thoughts?”

  “Yeah, he’s older… and from a different… place. He keeps telling me to hurry. He says there is a problem with the portal, or… me. With me. He says there’s a problem with me. He says I have to come back, soon. He keeps yelling at me.”

  “Like a ghost in your mind?”

  “No, like a vampire.”

  So that was where the idea came from. “He’s sending you messages through radio waves or telepathy?”

  “The other one, though, he’s… suffering. He’s… insane.”

  “There are two voices?”

  “Listen to me,” he said. “If I say something really weird, it’s him. It’s not me. Don’t think it’s me.”

  “Like when you asked me to kill you?”

  “Like that. That wasn’t me. That was the suffering man. I want to live. I’m a fighter.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” Boy, was I glad to hear that. “And there are just two voices?”

  “No, many. Those two are just the loudest.”

  “Did he tell you he was a vampire?”

  Damon held my face between his hands and gave me a soft kiss, then he held me with a serious expression. “Maggie, in the car on the way up here, I wasn’t mad at you. He just wouldn’t stop talking and I couldn’t concentrate. I was afraid if I opened my mouth I’d start speaking in his voice. You don’t know what it’s like trying to hold a conversation with that going on… in there. He wants my body so he can live again. I know they say I’m not supposed to believe that. But it’s true.”

  It sounded like Mama’s voices, but I wanted to be careful about what I said. “Have you thought that some light medication might calm the voices?”

  He rolled on his side to turn off the lamp. “No. It makes me foggy and dull. I can’t feel anything. I can’t think straight. I say mean things because I just don’t give a damn. You’d hate me.”

  The darkness soothed my burning eyes. “It helps Mama.”

  “And turns her into a zombie. I can handle them. If they say something just ignore it.” He snuggled down to rest against me again. “I’m better when I’m with you. Everything’s better with you.”

  He lifted my hand and stroked the prominent vein on my wrist with his thumb. Then he held my wrist against his cheek and said in a sleepy voice, “You tasted like heaven. You’re inside me now. Forever.”

  I closed my eyes and rested my head back against the cushion. “Sleep.”

  He fell asleep right away but I stayed awake for a while, stroking his hair and listening to his steady breathing. He’d finally opened up and told me the truth. He was suffering. I’d suspected as much but it was a great relief to know the truth. To know what I was dealing with.

  This was it. I knew beyond any doubt. This was the last stop on the husband-safari-tour. Damon and I would be together for the rest of our sane lives.

  It was such a great relief to finally be home that my body melded into the cushions, painless tears ran in streams down my cheeks, and I gently swirled down into the first peaceful sleep I’d known in years.

  CHAPTER NINE

  HURRY AND FIND THE CAVE!

  I opened my eyes, confused and alarmed, not certain what was happening or where I was. Or who was shouting in my ear. “Damon?” I said in a pale voice as I looked around.

  I was still half sitting on the sofa bed at Aunt Cynthia’s, the house dim and quiet in the early morning. Damon was asleep with his head in my lap. I swallowed past a dry throat, trying to calm my pounding heart. I’d only been dreaming.

  And I was stiff and uncomfortable. I tried to adjust my position but Damon was like a boulder in my lap and I couldn’t move more than an inch. Deciding not to bother him, I tried to ignore the numbness and closed my eyes.

  SOLDIER, YOU’RE NOT RESPONDING!

  I sat perfectly still, eyes wide, listening. Oh my god. Oh no…. The voice had come from inside my own head! And boy was it loud! My eyelids vibrated from the force.

  It was starting, I realized with a rush of terror. Too soon. Much too soon!

  I pushed on Damon’s shoulder, shaking him. “Wake up, wake up!”

  He lifted his head and squinted at me. “What’s wrong?”

  I grabbed hold of him, terrified that the voice might try to drag me away into its world. “It happened. I heard a voice.”

  He sat up straight, instantly alert. “Yours or mine?”

  “I don’t know,” I said in agitation. “A voice. In my head.”

  He grabbed hold of both my wrists, seeing my fear-filled eyes. “Okay, don’t worry,” he coached, “it can’t make you go anywhere or do anything. I’ll keep hold so you’ll feel better. Now tell me, what did it say?”

  I did feel better, knowing he was there to hold onto me if anything should happen. “It said something about finding the cave. He said something about a soldier. He said to hurry. He sounded a little like you.”

  “The portal,” he said with certainty. “Yeah. He talks about that all the time. That’s the alien commander.”

  “Really? What does he say?”

  Damon lowered his voice to imitate the voice in his head. “‘Soldier, you have to respond. The portal is closing. Find the cave. Hurry. You’ve been injured. The mission is compromised.’”

  “Yes!” I said. “It sounded just like that. That voice. He said I wasn’t responding.” I stared at him, wondering if I had read Damon’s mind. “How can we hear the same voice?”

  He stared at me seriously. “I’m not sure,” he said. Then his eyes brightened. “It’s because we’re connected now. From drinking. Alien vampires are telepathic. You heard my voices. That’s what it is.”

  I nodded. That seemed to make some kind of sense, considering all the madness I’d encountered in the past twenty-four hours. “Maybe I did read your mind. Maybe I’m not really hearing voices yet.”

  “C’mon,” he whispered, “get under the covers.”

  He di
dn’t have to tell me twice. I hurriedly slid under the covers, anxious to have his arms around me and his body close. I was shaking all over.

  He pulled and tucked the covers until we were nicely cocooned. Then he held me so close his heat washed over me, calming my chills. “This’ll make it feel better,” he said with a soothing voice and warm kisses.

  I lay clutching him, waiting for the voice to strike again. I focused on listening until my head pounded.

  “The first time is the worst,” he told me. “No, the second time is worse. The first time you’re not sure what’s happening, but the second time you know. Once that’s over it gets easier. At least for awhile, until it won’t go away and you don’t think you can take anymore.”

  I chose to ignore the inevitable future and focus on this moment. He would have to scare me to death. “Good, I’ve already had my second time.”

  “Be sure and tell me when it happens again.”

  Again? “Oh, god!” Terror washed over me again. I needed more time. I wasn’t ready to be insane! “Damon, I don’t want this!”

  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispered. “Here, drink. It helped before.”

  “No, maybe that’s what caused it. I knew we shouldn’t have done it. That’s what started this! We knew it was wrong. God….”

  Something touched my head and I wrapped my arms tighter around him. Then I heard the voice again.

  “Maggie? Are you okay in there?”

  Damon and I both froze. It wasn’t the voice in my head, but another voice, outside the covers. Aunt Cynthia.

  I fought the covers down and looked up at her. She stood there with her arms crossed and a strange look on her face. Her eyes darted between Damon and me.

  “What?” I asked. I couldn’t remember what she’d just said. “Is Mama all right?”

  “She’s fine.” Her voice was hard, and annoyed. “I could hear you crying all the way in my room.”

  I reached up, touched my wet cheek, and realized I had been crying. I hadn’t noticed. “I’m okay. We were just talking.”

  She nodded, but still wasn’t particularly happy. She patted my foot. “I’ll go start some coffee. Why don’t you get up.”

  When she’d left the room, I waited for Damon to turn his head back to me. He’d been watching her leave, too. “Why was she mad?” I whispered.

  He pulled me down to the mattress again. “She doesn’t like me.”

  “I thought she did.”

  “That was over the phone, not in person. She’s seen me now. No one likes me once they see me. She thinks I’ll hurt you. It’s the same with everyone.” He leaned forward to gaze down at me. “Except you.”

  I sighed, too overwhelmed to worry about that. “Well, let’s get up. Maybe if I’m around people it’ll leave me alone.”

  “Ha!” Damon barked, without smiling.

  Then he saw my horrified reaction and his eyes softened, and deepened until he stared at me with blue pools of pain and pity. “My poor baby,” he said. “Try not to jump or whisper back at the voice in front of people and you’ll do fine. Don’t cover your ears. It looks crazy and doesn’t help at all.”

  ***

  Damon paced near the back door while Aunt Cynthia made coffee and tried to wake up. I didn’t know why he was pacing. It should have been me. I was the one facing my first new day of insanity.

  But I was worried Aunt Cynthia would see what had happened to me if I moved around much. And I didn’t want anyone to know. I was humiliated and mortified. It felt as if I’d just been diagnosed with a terminal disease. It felt like my first day of school when the teacher had introduced me as Magic Star and all the kids had laughed at me.

  Aunt Cynthia came around behind my chair. “Is everything all right, hon?” she asked, brushing my hair with her fingers in that wonderful maternal way I’d almost forgotten.

  “I think so. I’m not awake yet.”

  It was still dark outside and Damon stopped pacing to stare at his reflection in the window glass. He whirled around suddenly. “Where’d your mom come from?” he asked her.

  “She was born here in Knoxville.” Aunt Cynthia looked at me sadly and brushed my hair again. “Are you missing your grammy, sweetheart?”

  “Yeah,” I said. And I did, terribly. Gram would have known what to say and do to make me feel better.

  “I miss her, too.”

  “Are you sure she was born here?” Damon insisted.

  “Well, yes,” Aunt Cynthia said, giving him a condescending laugh as she sat down and lit a cigarette. It seemed she really didn’t like Damon.

  Damon rushed to sit down beside me at the table. “Do you have proof? Did she ever talk about a place in the mountains? Does Pine Hollow sound familiar?”

  He held my hand under the table and I could feel his knee bobbing rapidly. His forehead glistened with sweat. Suddenly, my problems seemed small and my worry turned to Damon. He seemed on the verge of an episode. I hadn’t seen him have one yet, but I had to assume episodes came with the territory. Mama’s life had been nothing but a series of episodes before her new medication.

  I held his hand tightly and rubbed his back. He was having an anxiety attack. I’d seen it so many times before. Except he was handling it much better than Mama ever had. He remained seated even while the muscles in his jaw pulsed like speakers to a heavy bass beat.

  His eyes stayed locked on Aunt Cynthia. “Just tell me everything, everything, you remember,” he ordered.

  Aunt Cynthia studied Damon, and then sent me a secret message with her eyes. She recognized Damon’s symptoms as well, and wanted to make sure I knew. I nodded faintly.

  “Well, let’s see. Mama was born in Knoxville in 1941.” She got up to pour herself a mug of coffee. Then she bent over to take a skillet from the cabinet and went to the fridge for eggs.

  “Are you all right?” I whispered to Damon.

  “Soldier, you’re wasting time! Get to the portal now!” he said through clenched teeth. He blinked hard. “Just for god’s sake find out everything.”

  He turned in his seat and sat hunched over with his hands clasped between his knees, unable to converse any longer.

  “She got married when she was sixteen,” Aunt Cynthia continued as she worked, frowning wisely at Damon.

  “To Grampa Harvey?”

  “Of course. They had me and then a year later they had a baby boy, but he didn’t live but about two weeks. She didn’t think she could have any more, and then three years later here Sonya came.”

  “So, you don’t remember her ever talking about living in Kentucky? A place called Pine Hollow?”

  “Well,” she squinted at the air, stirring the eggs in the skillet, “I think she said something about my Granddaddy Sullivan maybe being from Kentucky. I don’t know. Mama wasn’t much for talking about the past.”

  I wasn’t surprised. Especially, if they’d all been bitten by a vampire and didn’t want anyone to know. “Gram’s maiden name was Sullivan?”

  She glanced at me. “You never knew that?”

  “I don’t think so.” I’d never thought about it.

  “Granny, my granny, was a Latimer. I have all the names in a bible somewhere.”

  I glanced at Damon who was still leaned over, rocking. “Do you know why they all moved to Polar together? Her and Chester and Bella and the rest?”

  She poured milk into two glasses and delivered them to the table. “For your bones,” she said. Then she rested her hand on a chair and propped the other fist on her hip. “Let’s see. I’m trying to remember. I think they had trouble finding work here in Knoxville and decided to move away. Or…. I know they were all poor growing up. Most of them.” She went to scoop scrambled eggs onto plates. “Uncle Chester was different. He had some money from his family. He’s quite well off. He helped them all get set up in Polar. I don’t know the details. I know Mama was awful proud the day she paid Chester off. For the loan. It took her twenty years, but she did it, even raising me and Sonya on h
er own.”

  “Chester is wealthy?” I never would have known by the way they lived. They’d always lived better than my family had, but not as if they were wealthy.

  “Well, his family sure was,” Cynthia said. “I remember that. He went on to college and became a pharmacist. None of the others ever could have done that. He helped them all get on their feet. Corky opened up a jewelry store and Verna went on to become a nurse. Elliot got a good job with an oil company.”

  “What did he do? Grampa Harvey?”

  She glanced at Damon, frowned, and sat at the table with a mug of coffee. “Daddy? Honey, he was an electrician. You knew that. He worked for a company there in Polar. He helped wire your high school when they built the new building. Mama worked her way up in the county clerk’s office.”

  That much I knew. I wanted to ask why Grampa Harvey had killed himself, but I was afraid to ask. I was beginning to think I knew. The voices had driven him insane. Grammy had been perfectly sane until the day she’d died, so I had to assume the crazy gene had come from Grampa Harvey. They might not have had medication to help him back then. I looked at Damon and my heart broke. One day he might find the voices unbearable. He wasn’t taking medication to help. He was fighting the insanity on his own.

  One day, he’d lose that fight.

  Unless we found an answer soon.

  “I have a picture of Gram and all the others dressed up in black robes. Their faces are painted. It’s a really creepy picture. Was she a member of some kind of organization?”

  Aunt Cynthia sat back and laughed. “I’ve seen that picture. It was for the Halloween party Chester threw every year. That year, I think they were zombies and ghosts. They put on a haunted house every year at the old factory to raise money for different charities. I loved that so much. It was always so much fun. At the end of the haunted house they gave out popcorn balls, caramel apples and hot chocolate.” She leaned back and sighed. “Those were good times.”

  Damon looked at me and shook his head. He didn’t want to believe the picture had been an innocent event, fun for the kiddies and to raise money for charity. Strangely, I didn’t want to believe it, either. I wanted to believe something supernatural was going on. Something that could be cured.