Excerpt:
As the fog
in my brain lifted and I climbed towards consciousness, it was as if I could
feel every cell in my body, and they were all throbbing. There wasn’t any real
pain; it was more like every nerve ending in my body was on high alert. I tried
lifting my eyelids and was surprised to find they were working properly. The
room was dim, yet I could see everything clearly—not that there was much to see
other than a darkly painted ceiling. When I turned my head, a sharp pain
stabbed through my brain.
“Ouch,” I
said, my voice coming out in a loud croak.
“You’re
awake,” a familiar voice said. Pinky’s face hovered over mine. “Welcome back,
darling girl.”
His voice
was breathy as if he were whispering, yet it was so loud I couldn’t help but
wince. Pain and worry etched his face, and he looked tired in a way I’d never
seen before.
“What
happened? Where am I?” My voice sounded dry, cracked, and a little panicky. I
couldn’t help it. Fear was starting to bubble up inside my stomach, churning
it. I felt so odd. So much of my body hurt, and then there was the pain that
wasn’t pain, but more of an odd sensation. Where was I and why was Pinky
staring down at me as if I’d just come back from the dead?
“Shh, it’s
okay,” Pinky said, trying to soothe me.
He laid his
hand on my arm, but it hurt and I flinched away. “Ouch,” I said, tears filling
my voice. “Pinky, what’s going on? Why does it hurt?”
“Shh, don’t
talk. I need to get you some tea to soothe your throat. Lie there and rest.”
Too weak to
argue, I did as he bade, closing my eyes as I waited. I didn’t drift back off
to sleep, though. I was painfully aware of Pinky moving around the room. It was
as if every sound was amplified, and every shift in the air blew across my
skin. From the sounds, I’d guessed there was a teapot and crystal warming plate
in the room. The scent of herbs and something else I couldn’t name burst into
the room as he slid the lids off glass containers. The odor grew stronger
before softening as he combined them and poured hot water over the mixture.
Within a few
minutes, Pinky was back by my side, though he had never actually left the room.
“Are you
ready to try to sit up?” he asked, placing a mug on a table near my head.
“I think
so,” I said, opening my eyes and gazing up at his concerned face. I wasn’t
completely sure I was telling the truth, but curiosity was gnawing at me. I
wanted to know what had happened, but I knew Pinky wouldn’t tell me anything
unless he thought I was doing better. Though better than what, I had no idea.
Several
minutes later, I was cursing my curiosity and wishing I’d just told Pinky I
wasn’t ready to sit up yet. But I hadn’t, and I was sitting up. If you could
call propped against six pillows that forced me into a sitting position
‘sitting up’. I wasn’t even sure propped was the correct word because the
moment Pinky let go of me after putting the last pillow into place, I’d
collapsed back onto them, heaving from the pain and effort of getting into the
position. Even with Pinky’s help, it had been excruciating and exhausting.
“Here, this
will help,” Pinky said, holding the mug of warm liquid to my lips.
I sipped it,
the strong flavor exploding in my mouth. “What is that?” I asked after
swallowing several mouthfuls.
“An herbal
tea from River’s garden. Chamomile, I think. There’s some medicine to help your
pain mixed in,” he answered, setting the empty mug down. “Are you feeling any
better?”
The medicine
must be why it tasted so strong, but I was feeling a little better. “My throat
doesn’t hurt as much.”
He smiled.
“Good.”
“Pinky, what
happened? How did I get sick? What’s wrong with me?” As I asked the questions,
I watched my father’s face grow serious, dread filling his eyes.
“I’m not
sure right now is the best time. I think you need more rest.”
“No,” I
said. It took every bit of energy I had, but I pushed his hand away as he tried
to pull the blanket up around me. “I don’t want to rest. Please, what happened?
Why does everything hurt? Why are you the one taking care of me? Where’s River
and Fiona?”
With every
question, my voice got more and more shrill. As I asked about my sisters, I
realized just how strange, how wrong, it was for them not to be in the room.
Were they sick too? Had something happened to them?
“Shh, Anya,
calm down, baby. Fiona and River are okay,” Pinky crooned as he gripped my
hands between his. I realized I had been screaming out the thoughts in my head
and that I was sobbing. “If you’ll drink another mug of tea, I’ll tell you,
okay?”
I nodded,
the motion making my head ache. “Okay,” I said, trying to stop crying now that
I realized I was doing it.
Pinky
prepared another mug of tea, and we sat in silence as I drank it. The drink
soothed me, sending a warming calm throughout my body. I suspected Pinky had
put some sort of sedative in it that would knock me out soon, but I wasn’t
about to be deterred.
I held the
mug out. “It’s all gone. Now tell me what’s wrong with me. I don’t want to wake
up again feeling so confused and scared.”
The moment I
spoke the words, I could see the determination to keep me in the dark fade from
Pinky’s demeanor. “Okay. I suppose knowing will be better than the fear of not
knowing. What do you remember?”
I shook my
head, grateful that the last cup of tea had taken away the stabbing pain behind
my eyes. “I don’t know. What do you mean?”
“Before you
woke up here, what is the very last thing you remember doing?”
I thought
hard, trying to focus. An image of Farrah and River formed in my mind. They
were laughing. “I was at the market with Farrah and River. We were having
lunch.”
“You don’t
remember anything else? Do you know what you did after you left the market?”
I tried to
think. I remembered telling River goodbye and walking towards the bridge with
Farrah, but as we neared the bridge, everything got fuzzy, and then it was
black. I couldn’t remember. As I concentrated, another sharp throbbing started
behind my left eye. I rubbed at my temple.
“I don’t
know, Pinky. I can’t remember.” My voice was nearing hysteria.
“Shh, it’s
okay,” Pinky said, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling me into his arms.
“I’m going to tell you what happened, but I need you to promise to try to stay
calm. You are safe and loved, and no matter what, you will be okay. Promise to
remember that?”
I nestled my
head against his chest, much as I did when I was a child. The comfort of his
arms was accompanied by the feeling of dozens of tiny bees stinging my skin at
every point where we touched, but I ignored it. A sense of dread was slipping
over me, but I needed to know. “I promise.”
As my
adoptive father cradled me in his arms and rocked me like a baby, my entire
world was pulled out from under my feet. He told me Farrah and I had been
attacked, and that Farrah was fine, but I’d been kidnapped. He didn’t have any
other details except that Jarrett and Fiona tried to get me back, but the
kidnapper, some woman named Cora, had cut my throat. I’d been dying and the
only chance they’d had to save me was to infect me with the N-V virus.
The only way
to save my life had been to change it forever. To change me forever. I was now
a vampire.
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