Dawn Caravan

by Elizabeth Hunter

  “I’m going to be ruined for economy flights,” Chloe said. “I better stick with you from now on.”

  “You’ll be support staff only on this, okay? You’re not going to be sneaking through corridors and breaking into museums like you did in New York.”

  “You’re so responsible now,” Chloe said. “Fine. You know I’m not an adrenaline junkie like you anyway.”

  “I was never an adrenaline junkie.”

  Chloe laughed out loud. “You’re adorable.”

  Ben ignored her laughter. “I’ll book you a flight and text you the details. Pack for three weeks.”

  “Got it.”

  Chloe hung up, and Ben walked back to the garden where Beatrice and Sadia were swimming in the heated pool.

  “Do it again, Mama!” Sadia’s laughter flew through the air.

  “Okay, hold your arms out.”

  Ben sat on a chaise and watched Beatrice lift her daughter into the air, raising a column of water under Sadia’s arms and legs as the little girl laughed and wiggled.

  “It tickles!”

  “High enough?”

  “Higher!”

  “Just a little bit.” Beatrice’s face was glowing. “One, two, three… Dive!”

  In an instant, Sadia pointed her arms over her head and puffed her cheeks out to hold her breath. The column fell back into the pool, softening Sadia’s landing. The little girl flipped head over heels before she swam under the water like a fish, heading toward the shallow end.

  “She’s a good swimmer,” Ben said.

  “She is.” Beatrice sat on the steps of the pool as Sadia surfaced. “Did you hear Ben? He was complimenting you on your swimming.”

  Sadia’s smile was huge. “I can swim all the way across the pool. Want to see?”

  “Yes.”

  She immediately flung herself into an enthusiastic crawl, her arms wheeling and her legs kicking as she moved through the water.

  “Is she on the swim team?”

  “Not yet.” Beatrice leaned against the edge, her hair piled on top of her head in a bun. “Dema and Zain would be the ones to enroll her if she wanted to do it. Right now we’re still keeping close to home or school.”

  Sadia attended the discreet and very private school that Ben had also attended as a child. It was run by and for the day people of immortal clans. All the children knew about vampires, and none of them had to hide their unusual families or parents’ jobs from unknowing classmates.

  “When do you think she’ll be ready to hide things?”

  Beatrice snorted. “Never? I’ve never met a blunter child.”

  “Not even me?”

  “You?” Beatrice looked at him from the side of her eyes while she kept her focus on Sadia. “You were the opposite of blunt. You were the most politic teenager ever. You wanted to make everyone happy and get your way at the same time.”

  “Isn’t that everyone?”

  “Maybe.” Beatrice narrowed her eyes. “But you weren’t manipulative. You never did anything you thought would hurt people. You just… tried to cheerfully arrange the people in your life so you got the exact outcome you wanted.”

  Ben frowned. But wasn’t that how everyone worked?

  “Don’t get me wrong, you were a great kid. But more than once, I caught you doing something, started to object, then realized you’d actually gotten me to give you permission in some tricky way.”

  Ben smiled. “I did get away with a lot.”

  “And your uncle didn’t help. He treated you like a miniature adult. Tenzin—” She broke off and clapped for Sadia when she surfaced at the end of the pool. “Good job, Sadia!”

  The little girl panted. “Okay, I’m coming back now.”

  “Then we need to go read before bed.”

  The little girl gave a pained expression. “Nooooo.”

  “Yes.”

  Sadia looked at Ben.

  He shook his head. “Don’t look at me, kid. I can’t overrule her.”

  Sadia whispered loudly, “But you can fly me away and hide me.”

  Ben chuckled. “Tomorrow night.”

  She perked up. “Promise?”

  Beatrice shrugged when Ben looked at her. “It won’t be the first time she’s flown.”

  “Because Tenzin flies me!” Sadia flung herself back into the pool.

  “What were you going to say?” Ben asked. “About her?”

  Beatrice looked at him, then looked away. “Just that…” Her voice was flat. “She never seemed to realize you also weren’t an adult. She never treated you like a child.”

  Mentally, Ben couldn’t help but think: Since we’ve had sex, it would be super weird if she had. Definitely, majorly weird. “To be fair, I wasn’t exactly a normal sixteen-year-old.”

  He’d killed for the first time when he’d been sixteen. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen someone die, but was the first time he’d killed someone.

  “I know you weren’t,” Beatrice said. “But I tried to give you something approaching a normal childhood.” She reached for Sadia and lifted the little girl out of the pool. “Is she a girl or a fish?” She turned her back and forth, pretending to check her neck. “Ben, do you see any gills?”

  “I think she hides them.” He walked over and pushed Sadia’s dripping hair out of the way. “Where are they, Sadi?”

  Sadia laughed. “I don’t have gills.”

  “I don’t know…”

  She scrambled out of Beatrice’s arms and ran toward the chairs.

  “No running,” Ben and Beatrice said at the same time.

  “I’m not.” She slowed to a very fast walk. “I’m walking fast.”

  “Okay, well fast-walk into your towel and then into the house please.”

  “Okaaaay.” Sadia disappeared under a blue shark-shaped towel before she fast-walked into the house.

  Ben turned to Beatrice. “She’s so great.”

  His aunt smiled. “We were worried about attachment issues with her, but she’s such a survivor. Stubborn as a little mule sometimes, but that’s just who she is.”

  “She’s great.” Ben watched Beatrice. “Giovanni said you’re not talking to her.”

  “To Sadi— Oh.” Beatrice shook her head. “To her. No.”

  “When she visits—”

  “I’m not going to fight with him,” she said. “They’ve been friends for too long, and Sadia adores her. But I don’t have to like it, and I don’t have to hang around.” She stood and Ben watched in mild fascination as she shook and the water fled from her skin. No towel. No drips. “I usually go to Dez’s house when she comes.”

  “Does she visit a lot?”

  Beatrice shrugged. “A few times over the past couple of years.”

  He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Why?”

  “For the baby. Sadia loves her, and she asks…” Beatrice wrapped a deep blue robe around herself. “Giovanni says she’s different.”

  “Different how?”

  She shrugged. “Who knows? She’s like five thousand years old, Ben. Do you really think anyone that old can change?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I doubt it.” Beatrice walked toward the house. “I highly doubt it.”

  6

  Ben was sleeping when Chloe arrived the next day. He woke and heard her cheerful voice in the kitchen, chatting with Dema, Sadia, and Zain.

  “And then at school I have three friends.”

  “Only three?”

  “I play with everyone.” Sadia’s voice was cautious. “But friends are different.”

  “I think you’re right,” Chloe said.

  “Dema says you don’t have to be friends with everyone, just be polite.”

  “That’s good advice.”

  Ben paused outside the kitchen door.

  “Real friends…” Sadia took a breath. “Those are more special, and Lara Bright, I am not friends with her because she pushed my friend Jason down during free playing time and she’s mean.”
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  Maybe Ben needed to find this Lara Bright and have a talk with her…

  “But what did you do when Lara pushed Jason?” Dema’s voice was slow and steady. “Did you push her back?”

  A long sigh from Sadia. “Yes.”

  “And did you get in trouble?”

  “Yes, because I should have told a teacher and not pushed Lara harder.”

  Ben could hear the amusement in Chloe’s voice. “You pushed her harder?”

  “Yes.”

  Good. Ben approved of that tactic. Little Lara Bright wouldn’t be pushing Sadia or Jason again if he had to guess.

  “Tenzin told me that’s what you need to do if there’s a bully,” Sadia said. “If someone hurts you or your friend, then you hurt them back more so they don’t do it again.”

  Freaking Tenzin. Again. Ben scowled.

  “And we’ll talk about that tactic when you’re older,” Dema said. “But for now, when there is a teacher or responsible adult close by, you tell that adult, all right?”

  “But what if—”

  “No buts.” Ben walked into the kitchen and rubbed the top of Sadia’s head. “That was good advice from Dema, and I bet Baba and Mama agreed with it.”

  Sadia looked up with large, dark eyes. “Baba did, but Mama didn’t say anything.”

  Ben muttered, “This family is full of vengeful females.” He looked over to Chloe. “Hey you.”

  Chloe was looking at him, her lips pressed together. “Hey.”

  He could see some kind of emotion shimmering in her eyes, and he held out his arms. “Two years and I don’t get a hug?”

  Chloe blinked hard and walked over to Ben, throwing her arms around him.

  “Big dumb boy,” she whispered. “I missed you so much. Don’t you ever go away for so long again.”

  “Missed you too.” He pressed his cheek to her hair and inhaled her scent. Chloe smelled like vanilla and plain soap. She’d never worn perfume, but her scent was distinct and comforting. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

  She leaned back and looked up at Ben, examining him carefully. “The eyes are throwing me. They’re more noticeable in person. Really bright.”

  “I’m still not used to them.”

  “You’re paler.” She patted his cheek. “Other than that, you look the same.”

  “You want to see my fangs?”

  Chloe threw up a hand. “I’ve already seen them on the screen. Don’t be weird.”

  Sadia was bouncing on a barstool. “They’re just normal fangs. They’re not curvy like Tenzin’s.”

  Seriously? Sadia was going to end up giving Ben a complex about his boring fangs.

  “Hey,” he said. “Isn’t it your bath time?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?” Ben asked. “I can always throw you in the pool.”

  “No!” Sadia giggled and slipped down the barstool; then she ran into the living room. “Dema, get him!”

  Dema eyed Ben before she followed her charge. “Great. Now she’s going to want to swim.”

  Zain piped up from the kitchen. “Not before dinner.”

  Chloe shook her head. “That poor kid has like four parents.”

  Ben snorted. “Hardly. She has two parents and an assortment of adults who fawn over her. Nothing poor about that kid.”

  Zain smiled. “Gonna have to agree with Ben on that one, Miss Reardon.”

  “Please call me Chloe. I’ve been in and out of this house since I was fifteen, so I’m hardly a guest.”

  “Chloe then.” Zain was eyeing her appreciatively.

  Ben narrowed his eyes at Zain. “When’s Gavin coming into town?”

  “He should be here tonight,” Chloe said. “Not sure what time.”

  “You know they have those GPS-tracker things.”

  Her eyebrows went up. “I’ll have to suggest that. Sounds exactly like something Gavin would love.”

  Ben smirked. “It’s just a suggestion. Those wind vampires are hard to track.”

  “Speaking of that, do you know where Tenzin is?”

  Ben’s smile fell. “Why would I know that?”

  Chloe shrugged. “She left New York last week. Said it was something about work. I thought maybe she left you a message.”

  “We don’t chat.”

  “Well, maybe you should. You know, she’s not the same—”

  “Not interested.” Ben walked out of the kitchen and into the front garden.

  The house in San Marino was built on two acres in the middle of the city. It was more of an estate than a house, and a tall stucco wall surrounded it. Green vines crawled over the walls, and dense trees and hedges sheltered the house from curious onlookers.

  “Ben!” Chloe yelled from the house. “Come on. Get back here.”

  Ben crossed the gravel driveway. He wanted out of the house. He wanted to fly so fast the wind burned against his face, but before he could take off, he saw Gavin landing on the far side of the front lawn, just inside the gate.

  Security rushed forward, but Ben intervened. “Wait! He’s a friend.”

  The guard lifted a radio to his mouth as Gavin brushed off his shirt.

  “Vecchio.” Gavin offered him half a smile. “You still walk like a human.”

  “Thanks?”

  “It’s been a few years.”

  “Two actually.”

  “Over two. Have you lost track of time already?” Gavin’s Scottish brogue was evened out. He had his company voice on. “Usually takes a hundred years or so for that to happen.”

  Ben stood at a distance, his hands in his pockets as Gavin’s amnis pushed at his. He and the wind vampire had been friends for over a decade, but their elemental energy was unfamiliar. They poked and prodded, measuring the other vampire’s power.

  “Keep the heid.” Gavin finally smiled. “Yer a powerful little bastard, aren’t ye?”

  The other vampire’s amnis retreated so abruptly Ben nearly wondered if he’d been imagining it. Maybe that was the point.

  “So.” The Scottish vampire wandered over. “Is my woman here?”

  “Yes. And she already brought Tenzin up.”

  Gavin offered him a shrug. “Tenzin’s been around. This time you’re the one who disappeared.”

  “Seems like it was my turn.”

  “And you’ll get no argument from me.” Gavin brushed off the dark, long-sleeved shirt he was wearing. “Be angry if you like, just don’t expect me to be sorry you’re alive.”

  “That’s pretty much the reaction I’m getting around here.”

  Gavin slapped him on his shoulder. “It must be such a burden to be shackled with so many people who give a flaming arse you’re alive. Where’s Chloe?”

  “The kitchen.”

  “Excellent.” Gavin left him on the lawn and strode toward the house without a backward glance.

  Ben watched Gavin leave. He spotted Sadia running through the backyard, Dema trailing behind her. He could hear Giovanni and Beatrice speaking quietly in the library and Zain making small talk with Chloe.

  It was familiar. It was home.

  It was suffocating.

  Ben took off into the air, grateful for the soft cocoon of coastal fog that blanketed the San Gabriel Valley that night. He moved soundlessly through the clouds, moving by instinct and scent toward the heavy wisteria arbors at the Huntington Gardens.

  Descending into the rose garden, he spotted the gates of the Japanese garden and walked toward them.

  In the middle of the night, the park was serene. The only sounds were an owl hooting in the distance, a mockingbird call, and the quick flap of bats hunting through the gardens from their roosts in the palm trees.

  Ben walked through the gate of the Japanese garden and sat under the wisteria arbor to survey the silent sanctuary. He’d spent summers here as a child. When he closed his eyes, he could see the sago palms and maple trees bathed in golden sunlight, the pools with darting koi, their tails cutting through the reflected sky.

 
You will never see that again.

  You will never see your shadow during the day or feel the sun on your skin.

  You will never watch a sunrise or a sunset.

  It was a process, this litany. Like deliberately cutting off a limb that was already dead. Every now and then he forgot. Then he remembered and that limb twitched again, a phantom pain spiking through his heart.

  * * *

  “I remember what I said that night. But I’m not that man anymore. I’m not a man at all. I don’t know what I am.”

  “You are still you.”

  * * *

  Was he? Some nights he felt like himself, and some nights he was so filled with overwhelming anger he felt like he was choking on it. A year after he’d fled to Mongolia with Zhang, he flew out over the mountains and screamed as long and as loud as he could.

  He felt better for a night. When he woke up the next night, the swelling rage nearly overtook him again.

  * * *

  “All things have roots and branches. Every being has their end and their beginning.”

  * * *

  Zhang’s words came back to Ben as he sat in the silence of the garden.

  Roots and branches.

  * * *

  “We don’t have an end. We’re immortal.”

  “All things have ends, and one immortal may have many lives. That does not mean there are no endings and no beginnings, but when one branch is cut off, another grows. You will have to find peace with your end before you can grow into your beginning.”

  * * *

  Roots and branches. Beginnings and endings.

  His human life had ended. A branch cut off.

  Ben stood and walked through the garden, over the bridges, and up to the teahouse, climbing to the Zen garden and the bonsai garden beyond.

  * * *

  “Where one branch is cut, a bud will grow.”

  “So this life is a bud?”

  “In a sense. If you want new growth, the old must be cut away.”

  * * *

  Ben didn’t feel new. He felt shackled by his roots, but he was unwilling to pull away. He’d worked hard to find people and places that were his own. Cutting them off wasn’t an option.