Survivor (25 page)

Tears leaked down my cheeks as my purse slipped from
my fingers.  Peter came and gently helped me out of my coat.  “I know you hate
me right now,” he said quietly, “but I can’t let you risk the lives of everyone
in that hospital.  You have been doing well.  But this is a different
situation.  You’re upset, and the place will be full of the strongest of human
emotions.”

I sat on the couch for a long time.  Peter went
about the house, tidying up, doing dishes, folding laundry.  Hours passed, with
my cell phone chiming about every thirty minutes or so.  I knew it was my
parents.  How could I treat my family like this?  At first, I was filled with
rage.  I swore that the moment he released me from this compulsion, I would
kill the green-eyed devil who was vacuuming the living room.  Taz came by to
sniff at me a few times, but he looked weary.  He took up a position on the
other side of the room, pretending to sleep while he kept his eye on me.  Finally,
I calmed down enough for Peter to release me.

“You will not leave this house,” he said firmly,
adding a bit of compulsion to ensure that I couldn’t. 

I clenched my fists in frustration, but nodded.  He
was right, and I knew it.  I had lost my control simply hearing my mother’s voice. 
How much worse would it be in a building surrounded by people, most of them
pumping out pain and fear, sadness and desperation?  

Peter’s expression softened and he reached out to
hesitantly touch my hair.  “I’m sorry.”

I saw the pain in his eyes.  He felt like a monster
for smothering my will, but he was willing to bear it to protect me and
everyone else.  I stepped into his hesitant embrace and let him comfort me. 
“I’ve lost my faith in everything,” I said against his chest.  “Last night, I
prayed for God to bring only good things my way from now on.  Then this
happens.”  I took a sobbing breath.  “Now I don’t know what to do.  I’m afraid
to hope, afraid to pray.  If I ask for something good, something bad might
happen.”

My sense of the order of the world- of right and
wrong, and fate- was crumbling.  I envisioned all of Chelsea’s dreams, all of
her potential, washed away in a heartbeat.  “This can’t happen,” I said
softly.  Just when my world had started to make sense. 

I lifted my head.  “If I can’t go, then will you?” 
I fisted my hands in the front of his shirt, clinging in sudden hope.  “You
could heal her.”

He looked down at me sadly and shook his head.  “And
if I do?  Say I manage to go there and feed her my blood.  Then what- she miraculously
heals and walks away?  Don’t you think that might cause some problems?”  He was
right, of course, we would all be in danger, from humans and vampires alike. 
“Then there is always the risk that I would turn her.  If she is very close to
death and I were to heal her at just the right moment…well…”

If she were turned, Chelsea would still lose the
life she was meant to lead.  I stepped back from Peter.  “What would happen if
I did it?”  My voice was hesitant, scared.  “I’m weaker than you, and I’m not
even as strong as the typical newbie.  What is my blood like?”

His hands slipped to my shoulders and he started
into my eyes for a long time.  Finally, he seemed to collapse in on himself.  “Go
read a book or something,” he said tiredly.  “You are not leaving this house.”

“If my sister dies, I’ll never forgive you for as
long as I live.”  I stormed to the bedroom and slammed the door, shattering the
frame.  Peter left me alone for a long time. 

I squared my shoulders and marched to the window,
intending to open it and leave.  No way could he keep me here.  The first few
steps were easy, but then I felt my movements slow.  It was like trying to walk
through a sea of tar.  The closer I got to my destination, the worse the
feeling grew, until I couldn’t even lift my feet.  I fought, and struggled,
cursed and grunted with effort, but I couldn’t move one more inch toward my
destination.  I could turn around though.  I walked back to my bed with ease. 
The compulsion I was under wouldn’t allow me to leave the house. 

I collapsed on the bed, pounding my fists on the
mattress in a frustrated rage.  When the anger was spent, the tears came and I
cried until I thought my heart would break.  Finally, numb, I watched the
sunlight make its way across the room.  Then it started to fade and shadows
appeared. 

There were light footsteps in the hall and Peter
appeared.  “Get your coat and shoes,” he said softly.  “Then come to me so I
can put you under.”

I pressed my head to the car’s passenger-side window
as we drove, taking comfort from the chilled glass as my mind ran the same
well-worn paths again, and again.  Why hadn’t I seen Chelsea’s accident with my
new “abilities”?  Why had I failed her?  What could I have done differently?  I
was awash in grief and guilt.  When we reached the parking garage, and the car
finally came to a halt, I turned to Peter.  His eyes were silvery and his aura
was overpowering.  I nodded and looked into his eyes, willing myself to go
blank and be swept under.  He would control me like a doll if I didn’t resist,
and that was exactly what I wanted.  I could go under his control, or I could
not go at all.  I likely wouldn’t even remember what had happened, but it was a
small price to be able to save my little sister.

*****

My parents’ house was filled with a restful
stillness.  Mom and Chelsea were sleeping, but I knew that Dad was still up.  I
could hear his quiet movements, and sense the slow beating of his heart. 

I paused just outside the study.  The room was
hushed, and a small fire danced merrily in the fireplace.  A bit of sap popped
and I heard Dad shift in his seat, then the shush of sliding paper as he turned
a page.  I smiled sadly as I remembered him sitting by my bed, reading.  I knew
that ever since my car accident he had suffered from sleeplessness.  I had thought
this would improve after I moved out, but here he was, a cheesy western clasped
in one thick hand while he looked for a place to escape- an alternate reality
where everything could be solved with a hard look and a six-shooter.  A place
where good always won and the damsel in distress was always rescued from the
mustached villain.

I slipped into the winged chair next to his, and he
looked up in surprise.  He cleared his throat and marked his place before
setting the book aside.  “Hi Dad,” I said softly. 

He took a sip from the tumbler that sat on the end
table.  “What’s the matter, honey,” he said quietly.  “Couldn’t sleep?”  I
could ask him the same thing.  We’d all had a long week, but Chelsea was home
now, and she was staying here until her casts came off.  It was hard to take
care of yourself with a broken arm and leg.

I took a deep breath and refused to go along with
his everything-is-okay attitude.  “I know you worry,” I said softly.  “Maybe
even more than Mom.”  Because he was our protector- our man, the glue that held
us all together.  “But you’ve done a good job.  You’ve done everything you
could,” I hurried to assure him.  “You think it’s not enough, but it is.”  

This wasn’t just about Chelsea.  It was about me.  The
daughter who hadn’t come home okay.  I took his hand and gave it a squeeze,
seeing that his eyes looked a little misty.  “I know you’ve hung on to me- the
old me- for a long time, right here.”  I put a hand over my heart in
illustration, ignoring the fact that the slow thump beneath my palm wasn’t
normal.

He sighed and gave me a look.  “Are you saying it’s
time to give up and let her go?”

I shook my head.  “No.  I’m saying that she doesn’t
exist.  It’s only me.  It’s only ever been me- just the person I am now.”  I
sighed, knowing I was doing this badly.  “I just want you and Mom to see me. 
Right now.  Right here.  As I am.  There is no other me- no other reality.  It
is what it is, right here in this moment.”

I looked down at our clasped hands and the shiny koi
charm that rested between our wrists.  “This was always what was meant to be. 
The other stuff- all those what-ifs- those are just things we created in our
heads.  They were never real, so we shouldn’t be disappointed in things that
never existed in the first place.”

My dad chuckled.  It was a dry, hesitant kind of
thing, and I brought my eyes up to meet his.  “You’ve changed,” he said,
sounding awed.

“Yes.”

“You’ve grown- a lot.”

“Yes.”

“Is it because of him?”  He and Mom both continued
to treat Peter like he was some kind of criminal, but I thought they might be
starting to see how much he meant to me.

“No,” I said truthfully.  “It’s because of me.  He
just gave me a little push.”

Dad slipped his wire-rimmed glasses off and rubbed
his eyes.  “Then I hope he knows how thankful I am,” he said, surprising the
hell out of me.  “And I hope you know that whatever you do and wherever you go,
I’m proud of you.”

I blinked fast to fight back the tears.  “And I’m
proud of
you
Dad,” I whispered softly.  I was sure he had doubted
himself and blamed himself endlessly since my injury.  As a parent, he had
probably always wondered if he were doing all he could to help and protect me.  But
he was able to see that I was standing on my own two feet now, and that the responsibility
was no longer his. 

I slipped from the study some time later, feeling as
if a burden had been lifted.  The weight in my chest that was my family was
still there, but the feeling of it had shifted.  Its cold, hard edges had
become soft and warm, so it was easier to bear. 

Every time I faced down a fear or a worry, I felt
stronger; my footing felt more sure.  I slipped into bed, knowing it was
probably the last time I would see my old room for a long time, and welcomed
the deep sleep that shouldn’t be mine, accepting who I was for this moment.

I
was awakened a few hours later by the
buzzing of my cell phone.  “Peter?”  I wasn’t really surprised that he would
call me at this time of night.  After all, it wasn’t as if he would be asleep,
and I normally didn’t keep human hours.  All the same, a shiver of fear spiked
through me.  Something was wrong.

“Melody, I need you to come home,” he said
urgently.  “We’ve found them and we are moving on them tonight.”  Then ones who
were stirring up trouble for the coven.  The man from my nightmares.  I knew
they’d been searching for him, though they kept me out of it.  I was surprised
how quickly they’d found him.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.” 

I tucked my phone away and slipped on a pair of
jeans and an old t-shirt.  Then I hastily scribbled a note to my parents and
left it on the dining room table.  It said only that I had returned home.  I
couldn’t manage to think up a good reason for leaving in the middle of the
night. 

A light, misting rain was falling, and the sidewalk
and streets were shiny black in the streetlights.  My steps were silent as I
wrapped my aura around myself and blurred into the night, jogging to Peter’s
house within minutes.

When I arrived, there were several of the coven
milling about outside the door.  Peter was waiting for me inside.  His chilling
silver eyes met mine, already anticipating the fight.  “We just got word that
one of the lesser covens in our area is under attack.  It’s likely Lee and his
followers.”

I nodded and reached for my long leather boots,
sitting on the rug by the door.  They would be more appropriate for a fight
than the flip-flops I had on.  Peter took my hand, halting my movement.  “You
are staying here.”

I shook my head and gave him a defiant look.  “I
want to help!”

He shifted from foot to foot and glanced at the
door, impatient to be gone.  “You aren’t strong enough to hold your own against
an older vampire,” he said reasonably.  “I want you here, where you are safe.” 
His eyes bore into mine.  “I can use compulsion if I need to.”

I sighed and my shoulders slumped in resignation. 
“No.”  I knew he was right.  What help could I be in a fight?  I was new, weak,
and slow.  Even if I were a hundred years old, I would still be a liability.  I
certainly didn’t want Peter to die protecting me, and I knew he would if it
came to that.

Seeing my understanding, Peter dropped a kiss on my
forehead, then turned and vanished into the night.  “Just come back, okay?” 
I’m not sure if he heard me or not.

I locked the door behind Peter and went to pace
restlessly through the house.  Leah’s coven was filled with powerful vampires. 
Peter could hold his own.  I knew this, and yet I couldn’t stop my heart from
aching.  A dull headache began to build behind my eyes.  It wasn’t long before
the visions came.  I sank onto the couch and closed my eyes as I watched the
battle play out in my head.

Lee’s people were attacking a big old farmhouse in
the country.  I got flashes.  Bits and pieces here and there.  I saw Cynthia
and Viktor, beating back a group of strange vampires.  I saw Peter, Haine, and
Leah, but everything was moving too fast.  It was a blur.  Then Peter fell. 
Everything slowed as he went down under a pile of strangers.  Blood splattered
everywhere, and I saw, with perfect clarity, his hands flop lifelessly to his
sides, arms flung out limply as if seeking benediction. 

Haine was nearby, and I saw his eyes, mercury in the
night, search the faces of his enemies.  His mouth moved. 
Where is Lee?