Chapter
Six: Something Unexpected
The following months flew past in an
uneventful blur. Though Drei always seemed just a breath away, I had separated
us further; I kept conversations brief with him, and all frivolous chatter to
myself. Despite this, he stopped by every
night to lull me to sleep. The one night he didn’t, I couldn’t sleep at all. It
wasn’t easy to keep him at arm’s length, but I knew it wasn’t supposed to be.
Nearly every day my charges desired a
new game. It wasn’t long before they seemed to forget they had ever fought. When
this realization struck me, I decided it was time to develop games they could
conduct without me. I spent the winter days sitting on the hillside, gazing out
over their play and stranded in thought. Of my former friend group, I had been
the one to think the most; that paled in comparison to my current
preoccupations. I avoided unpleasant thoughts of the past and the circumstances
leading me to this point, but I rather enjoyed the random philosophical
questions that came to mind.
Occasionally, one of the children require
my assistance with an injury or a problem. I would find bandages and disinfectant
or listen attentively as the situation was revealed, offering what advice or
mediation I could. Then, usually feeling better, he or she would run off to
join back in the games.
There was a day, some weeks after my
arrival, when I met the other vampires controlling my fate. I remembered a
few—such as Lily with her pale locks and piercing blue eyes and Mitchell with
his bald head, ebony skin, and gorgeous black eyes—but most I couldn’t recall
even if someone whispered their names in my ear again. They were all too
similar and equally quiet—at least in my presence. The meeting was largely a
formal introduction; the entire time Drei spoke, I endured the feelings of
animosity, annoyance, and doubt hanging in the room. Perhaps the real reason so
many were forgettable to me was that my concentration had been spent more on
trying to shield myself from their emotions instead of learning their names.
The one event managing to stay vivid
in my memory was Christmas.
I knew the vampires were busy
scavenging for presents; with only 12 of them and roughly 40 children, they had
quite the workload. The only reason I knew, however, was because I noticed
there were considerably fewer of them hanging around during any part of the
day—I was fortunate enough to see Valetta only a few days a week, a vast
improvement on three times a day.
On Christmas morning, we were all
treated to a feast of sorts: bacon; eggs made sunny side up, scrambled, and
pouring through the center of toast; sausage; milk; a variety of juices; and a
wide selection of fresh fruits.
Then came the presents, brought out
in heaping, velvet red sacks. Several of the children had also received gifts
from their parents—I guessed from a P.O. Box in some nearby town. Personally, I
wasn’t expecting anything. Christmas was more of a child’s and lover’s holiday
in my opinion. Besides, I really didn’t need anything. Or so I told myself.
To my great surprise and delight, Mitchell
approached me from the brightly littered slope of lawn and handed me a
rectangular box.
“Here,” he said as I inspected the
snowflake design for some telltale sign.
“Who’s it from?” I questioned after a
moment.
His lips upturned into something more
mischievous than jolly. “I would say Santa Claus, but something tells me you
are too old to buy it.”
I steadied my gaze on him, a playful
twist to my lips. “So what will you say?”
“It is a secret persona to whom I am
supposed to report your reaction at a later time.”
After a moment more of staring—a vain
hope I might wear him down—I slowly peeled back a corner of the paper.
“It is not surgery,” Mitchell teased.
Though the remark was rhetorical, I
found myself saying, “I’m not four either.”
Beneath the cheap snowflake paper was
a velvet box, the kind jewelry usually comes in. Popping open the lid, Mitchell
craned his neck to sneak a peek as my free hand flew to my lips.
On the silk bed lay a minuscule gold
chain—at least 14 karat gold if Mother dearest had taught me anything at
all—supporting an angel constructed of different gems. Her head was a diamond
with a golden halo, iolite wings, and an amethyst gown.
“Who gave this to me?” I repeated, my
heart pounding.
Mitchell merely grinned secretively
and loped away.
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