by J.J. Bonds
Chapter Nineteen
It feels like I’m losing my grip on reality. The nightmares continue to plague my sleep, making it impossible to get a decent night’s rest. When I’m awake the exhaustion is so deep that my mind is constantly in a hazy fog. The incident with my laptop still worries me. I live with a feeling of foreboding, like something terrible is looming on the horizon just out of sight.
I’ve been blowing off Shaye and Nik for weeks. I can’t stand to be around them: Nik because he wants something I’m not equipped to give; Shaye because I know she has enough problems of her own without worrying about mine. The only people I can talk to are Anya and Aldo. And both of them have more questions than answers for me.
I stand in front of the mirror debating the merits of skipping my session with Anya. The haunted face that stares back at me is washed out and looks more zombie than vampire. My eyes are tired, and my chestnut hair hangs limply over my shoulders. I bare my teeth just to confirm that my fangs are still there. I poke them with my fingers and relief washes over me. They’re as sharp as ever. At least some things are as they should be.
“Better go,” I tell myself. Anya will worry if I don’t show up. I pull on my boots and head for her office. There was a time when I really wouldn’t have cared about her feelings, but I’m starting to appreciate her more, and I don’t want our relationship to start deteriorating again.
“Sorry I’m late,” I tell her, as I enter without knocking. I figure we’re beyond knocking now.
“Don’t worry about it,” she mouths, covering the mouthpiece on her desk phone and waving me into a chair. She holds up her hand to indicate she’ll only be another minute. Oops! Maybe I should have knocked after all. I sit down across from Anya and stare idly out the window while she wraps up her call. It sounds like school business.
“I appreciate the warning. Keep us posted on the progress. If anything—and I mean anything—breaks tonight, call me. It doesn’t matter what time. We need to be prepared for the worst.” I can’t hear the reply of the other individual, but I’m intrigued by Anya’s statement. Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound good. Anya’s usually pleasant face is grim tonight. Her lips are tightly drawn, and her eyes are wary. She taps her fingers on the desk blotter anxiously as she listens.
“Thank you. I’ll let Headmaster Pratt know. I imagine it will be all over the news tomorrow anyway.” She pauses before continuing, her tone grave. “Stay close to this one. I don’t have a good feeling about it.” She hangs up the phone without saying goodbye and spins her chair to face me straight on. “Would you like a drink? I’m famished.”
“Sure,” I reply. These days I can’t seem to feed enough. “Nothing too fresh though,” I warn her.
“Duly noted.” She rises from her desk and fiddles around in the bar that lines the back wall. From the wood paneled fridge, she pulls a large pouch of blood. She twists off the airlock and pours it evenly into two glasses. She offers me the first before returning to her seat. We drink in silence. I can see that Anya is still distracted by the phone call. I want to ask her about it, but I’ve learned enough living with Aldo to know that she won’t tell me about it, even if I’m bold enough to inquire. If I’m meant to know, I won’t have to ask.
“The world is an ugly place sometimes.”
“I know.” She doesn’t have to tell me. I’ve seen it first-hand. I’ve been told that the good outweighs the bad in this world, but I have trouble believing it. Frankly, that hasn’t been my experience. I’ve learned it’s better to steel myself to the outside.
“Aldo would do anything for you. You know that, don’t you?”
“Of course. And I would do anything for him. We’re family. He’s the only family I have now.”
“Sometimes when we try to protect those around us, we’re blinded by love. Objectivity becomes… difficult.” Anya sighs deeply and leans back in her chair, crossing her legs. Today she’s wearing red snakeskin stilettos. “Take that necklace you wear, for example.” My hand jumps protectively to the pendant around my neck. “To you the bloodstone is a symbol of Aldo’s love, of family, of his benevolence. To him it’s a reminder of the sister he lost. That bloodstone is a reminder of second chances—of redemption.”
Why is she bringing this up now? What is she trying to say? “I don’t understand. What does this have to do with anything? I came here tonight to talk about the nightmares.”
“I know.”
What the hell does that mean? “I need to know why this is happening to me. I need to know how to make it stop.” I stomp my foot in frustration. Why is Anya being so cryptic? It reminds me of Aldo. “Look at me. I can’t go on like this much longer.”
“Open your eyes, Katia. The answers you seek are right in front of you. Stop fighting it and accept that there are things in this world you can’t touch and feel and explain with scientific logic. It doesn’t make them any less real.”