by Jenna Bernel
Ulla insisted on leaving Germany and moving in with my mother after the divorce. She said it was to support Claudia through the difficult time, but I knew she really meant me. Ulla is the only one besides Eli who knows what I am, what I really am. Everyone else in my life thinks I'm ordinary Dani, or vampire Daniella. I still didn't understand how I could be so different from all the rest. I rubbed away the residue line of leftover makeup from under my purple eyes and suddenly felt like a freak, as I made a quick departure from my reflection.
Eager to whip up some breakfast, I quietly tiptoed across the dark mahogany floor and into the kitchen, trying my best not to wake Will. Chefs are so not morning people. I love to cook, but I don't do it much anymore since my parents split up. Making food was one of the things that made me feel the most human, and because of my heightened senses, I was blessed with a fairly sophisticated palate. But now, it only feels like a symbol of what divided my family. I could still taste the toothpaste in my mouth from last night as I poured myself a glass of orange juice.
After a night at the club and being forced to drink Red Champagne, I usually scrub my mouth until the bristles on my brush are whittled raw. In the moments when I'm vamp, I admit it satisfies my appetite in a way that food never could, but once I change back, the mere thought of it, even as a half-human, makes me want to wash my mouth out with bleach. I gulped down the remaining orange juice, trying to rinse away the thought, only to have my face sour at the unpleasant combo of mouthwash blended with the acidic orange liquid.
I began to sift through the other offerings in Will's fridge besides orange juice and shook my head at the poorly stocked shelves. Typical young chef. They make the most delicious food in the world, but they don't take enough time for their own shopping to even buy fresh milk. I hesitantly pulled out the soggy carton and held it as far from my face as possible before dropping it in the garbage. It made a disgusting squishy, splash when it hit the canister’s bottom, confirming the milk was more solid than liquid at this point, and my stomach did an involuntary dry heave. Gross! Even blood didn't sound so bad right now.
After throwing out the curdled milk and half of the refrigerator’s putrid contents, I was able to scrounge up some eggs, asparagus and a few slices of leftover kalamata olive bread Will must have swiped from the restaurant. I let the asparagus roast in the oven with garlic and olive oil while I got some water going on the massive, six-burner stove to poach the eggs. As I whisked a lemon butter sauce together, the aromatic smell of garlic and cream filled the kitchen, masking the odor of the spoiled milk. Just as I took the asparagus out of the oven, the timer dinged on the toaster oven, alerting me that the bread was ready. A pinch of light came over the buildings outside, and the reflective windows bounced the golden syrup-colored glow into the loft. It was almost as if the sun decided to wake up just in time for my breakfast.
I drizzled some lemon butter sauce over a piece of the toasted bread and put a few spears of asparagus on it before topping it with the poached egg. Fiddling with the presentation of my plate, a truly uptight habit that I'm sure is only typical for a child of a restaurateur, I was distracted by a door opening down the hall. Shoot, make that two, Will was awake. I sighed to myself, looking down at the food, so familiar with this routine.
Will came padding down the hall and sat heavily on the barstool in his sleepy state, causing it to shriek unpleasantly against the shiny wood floor, and I flinched in reflex. He pulled the poached egg across the granite island and held out his hand. I handed him my knife and fork, throwing my napkin at his face while I got up to serve myself, when I suddenly remembered something absolutely crucial. I practically leapt over the kitchen island. My stomach landed hard on the cold surface, and I reached out to grab Will's fork, which was poised to pierce the soft white egg, before letting the delicious creamy, middle melt over the bread.
"Wait! It's not ready yet," I yelled, horrified at the thought of him ruining my creation. Will eyed me through exhausted eyes, telling me he was so not in the mood for early morning anal retention.
I quickly wiggled off the counter and grabbed the coarse sea salt and pepper grinder, giving the dish its finishing touch.
"There," I said with relief, and Will rolled his eyes before digging in. I served my own breakfast on another plate and smiled when Will couldn't help making yummy noises after trying a bite.
"Why do you insist on playing maître d' when you should be helping me in the kitchen?" Will whined, taking another bite.
"Because, Bill would like it too much," I told him, matter-of-factly, and he grumbled in annoyance.
"Why don't you give him a break already?"
"Why don't you put on a shirt already?" I pointed my knife in the direction of his bare chest.
"Because it's my townhouse and I'll go shirtless whenever I please," Will said sharply. Taking another bite, he pulled the fork from his mouth with clenched teeth, causing the metal to ring through the air.
"Technically, it's Bill's townhouse," I pointed out, just to be a brat.
About two years ago Will, or should I say Bill Junior, graduated from culinary school in France, right on schedule to follow in Daddy's footsteps, and was officially dubbed the golden child of the Madison family. Since Bill also dabbled in real estate, he graciously gave his little prodigy the townhouse-style loft near our oldest and most renowned restaurant, where Will now ran the kitchen. I was sure in due time he'd be running the rest of our dad's culinary empire too, since our mother opted out after the divorce. She decided the American dream wasn't all it was cracked up to be, and wanted a simpler life where she could focus on our little brother, Conner, while managing her small, but elegant brunch spot in Mapleton.
"Don't let him catch you calling him Bill anymore. I heard him say you'd be grounded for a month the next time you did," Will warned me, and my nostrils flared in anger at the thought.
I had been calling him "Bill" instead of "Dad" more often than not since the divorce, mostly because I knew it pissed him off. But I couldn't risk getting grounded. I would claw my own eyes out if I had to be stuck in the house for a month with Missy, Conner's, tawdry nanny. Even more importantly, I had to be able to go to the city so Eli and I could work on our next mission.
"Thanks for the tip," I softened a bit, smirking at my big brother as he scraped what was left of his breakfast from the plate, trying to get every last bite. I know I give him a hard time, but he works really hard, and never says a word to Dad about me crashing in his spare bedroom on most weekends, nor does he ask why I'm in the city to begin with. Just as I was about to thank him for giving me a key and letting me come and go as I please without tattling, I heard his bedroom door open again. My eyebrows scrunched together, and I leaned over the island, wondering who would appear from the hall.
"Who is that?" I asked before the mystery woman could turn the corner.
"No one you know," Will replied, causally swiping a bite of food from my plate since his was licked clean. I made a disgusted sound in my throat.
"You are such a man whore," I whispered curtly, because he SO is, and Will shrugged in a "whatever" manner, not even trying to argue it. Then a long, bare leg came into my view.
"Daniella, I didn't know you were here," the bubbly voice chimed as she grabbed a stool next to Will across from me at the kitchen island.
"Leaha! Hey, I didn't know you were here either," I said as cheerily as possible, while giving Will a lock-jawed smile. He looked down, dragging my half-eaten plate toward him, knowing he just ruined my appetite. I figured out quickly why Will's shirt was missing, since it became Leaha's makeshift nightgown. Like he doesn't have enough girls pawing after his Madison name, is it really necessary he go hooking up with the staff too? He is so obviously the spawn of our father, I could have puked my breakfast all over him at that moment.
"Wow, did you make that? It smells so delicious, it woke me out of bed!" Leaha said gleefully, unaware of the palpable tension rising in the room, along with my breakfast.
>
"Well then, by all means, dig in!" I matched her enthusiasm with as much excitement as I could muster, but it came off really fake. I pulled my plate from Will's greedy flatware over to Leaha's spot so she could finish it.
"Oh thanks, that is so sweet, but I'm actually on a cleanse fast right now. I can only have juice for a week!" Leaha's little giggle grated on my last nerve.
"Of course you are," I said with a similar cutesy giggle, but she was totally oblivious that I was mocking her. A waitress working in an upscale restaurant that serves incredibly delectable food was on a juice cleanse. What was wrong with this picture?
Will took the plate back, suggesting, "Why don't you go grab a shower? I'll join in a minute." He kissed Leaha on the cheek, and she smiled shyly at me, like I might not have figured out why she was here yet, as she hopped off her stool and skipped back toward the bedroom. I would have gladly dug out that rotten, milk pudding from the garbage and taken a big ol’ bite, than to have that image in my mind right now.
"Well you know what they say, like father like son." My bitter sarcasm was not lost on him.
"Technically, Betsy was our sommelier."
Just like me, Will knows exactly what to say to crawl right under my skin. I reached across the island to give him a good punch in the shoulder, hopefully hard enough to make it sore at work later. I didn't think Will would be so casually technical if he were the one who caught Dad humping Betsy, the sommelier, right behind the bar in the restaurant that our parents shared, or more accurately, formerly shared before that incident. I got up to leave; I really wanted to get over to Eli's before Henry woke up, and I was not in the mood for a stroll down memory lane.
"Thanks for breakfast," Will said sincerely as I walked away, totally unaffected by our exchange. He really is just like Bill. I'll have to try not to hold it against him.
I sighed out, "You're welcome."
At least I felt better leaving him a sink full of dishes for my troubles. Who was I kidding? Those dishes would most likely be waiting for me in all their crusty glory when I returned here next weekend to crash, along with a kitchen that stunk of spoiled milk.
Chapter 5: Meet & Greet
I got out of Will's townhouse as soon as possible, not wanting to hear any bit of his shared shower with Leaha. Eli's apartment was within walking distance, so I made my way down the block to meet him. The sun was completely out now and there was hardly a cloud in the sky. I tilted my head back and let its canary-colored rays feather over my warming skin. I loved the feeling of the sun on my face. This was the best part of the day, the freshness of the morning. I never sensed vampires during this time since the Gift of day-walking was so rare. I had only heard of a few Infinities even existing who had that Gift besides me, and had only ever seen one, The Basement member who gave me my first token.
As I continued down the block of meticulously manicured landscaping of the brick townhouses, I enjoyed listening to the early birds chirping as the lake came into view. I often walked on the path stretching along the highly sought-after piece of gold coast, and Lake Michigan sometimes looked so expansive, it gave the illusion of being an ocean. This morning, the blue water sparkled against the sun’s rays like a pristine swimming pool, and I wished I could jump in. I bet that's what they did up in Mapleton last night, since Dale's house backs up to the lake, and he loves throwing "legendary parties." I missed it again because I told everyone I was working, which was probably for the best. I'm sure most of the swimming participants were very much lacking their swimsuits.
Plus, I didn't know if Dale could keep advertising his parties as legendary since he threw them almost every weekend. It's pretty easy for the Mapleton Prep crowd to throw parties. Their parents tend to flock to their high-rises in the city in an effort to flee their dull, suburban lives, as well as their spoiled, back-talking children. Unfortunately for me, my Dad came from nothing, and still remembers the basics of parental caregiving. He isn't very tolerant of any back-talk even though I delve out plenty of it. He always demands a bit more respect than most parents, and I do my best not to get on his bad side, since I have a hard time respecting him. Thankfully, he's a workaholic and spends most of his free time entertaining the other suburban escapees with lavish dinners at the restaurant’s private chef's table, far, far away from me. I think we both prefer it that way.
A few blocks later, I reached Eli's apartment complex and let myself in. I have a lot of spare keys in my possession, including Eli's highly secured apartment building. That is probably why I'm constantly forgetting my actual house keys, and have on more than one occasion, accidentally locked myself out. I gave a rap on his door while jiggling the lock of the final gatekeeper, and immediately noticed Audrey's absence from his leather couch when I entered the living room. I guess she bolted from the awkward hangover moment she had when she woke up. At least, she would be staying away from The Basement, and hopefully, her body could regain strength. That, or get hooked on something else, and end up dead in an alley anyway. I've met a lot of blood whores over the year at The Basement and they all seem to have two key common denominators: a complete attraction to danger and addictive, self-destructive personalities.
"Hey, good morning," Eli said, coming out of the bathroom with a cloud of steam pluming behind him. His t-shirt and jeans were sticking to his damp skin. He finished rubbing a towel over his wet hair and threw it on the couch.
"Don't boys ever pick up after themselves?" I huffed, thinking of Will and his stinky kitchen.
"That's what girls are for." He gave me a teasing wink; sometimes he is so medieval. I crossed my arms over my chest, visibly not amused. He smiled and grabbed for my hand, pulling me towards the second bedroom-turned-lab, where Henry was resting.
"Come on, I'm only half kidding. Henry was starting to stir before I got into the shower, so he should be up any minute." Eli opened the door to reveal Henry, still on the table. The pink flush was completely restored to his face, after a night spent with his heart pumping him back to life.
"You're lucky I want you here for this, or you'd be tied up and gagged with that towel right about now," I quipped, and Eli let out a hardy laugh, causing Henry to shift again. I pulled up a chair and took his warm, life-affirming hand as he began to blink. A blue light shimmered from his compassionate, aqua eyes as they opened, confirming his full recovery, and for a moment, it felt like I was staring at an angel.
"Who are you? Where am I?" Henry looked at me with groggy confusion, and the returned innocence in his voice truly showed his mere sixteen years. We only turn back new vamps, usually not older than six months, because they actually have a family to go home to and a life to return to once they're human again. That, and because the newbies are fresh to The Basement, so many end up dead by mistakenly breaking the rules of the 7th Circle; like Henry almost did had he bitten me out in the open. They come and go so much, no one really notices or misses them if they don't come back, which works out well for Eli and me. Eli was the five-hundred-year-old exception to our new vamp rule, but that was only because it was an accident. If he feels any remorse over the time he lost with his now long passed family, he doesn't show it, and has adopted my unique Gifts as his life work. I squeezed Henry's hand gently to focus his attention back to me, since his eyes were darting around, trying to figure out where he was.
"Hi Henry. I'm Daniella. Do you remember me from last night?" He nodded slowly, wondering how I knew his name. Only Brooks is allowed to ask for names. Then he pressed his other hand to his chest where he could feel his heart beating rapidly inside his ribcage. The realization sent his heart rate to hummingbird speed, and all the color drained from his face as the shock of it sunk in.
"I know you have a lot of questions. Eli and I will tell you everything, but you have to take some deep breaths and try to slow your heart rate. You are still recovering, and it'll be dangerous for you if it continues racing at this pace," I explained, taking deep, over exaggerated breaths to show him what I meant. He clutched my
hand tightly as he mimicked my breathing. I felt like a Lamaze coach, but it seemed to be working. The monitor slowed to a less alarming beep, and Henry seemed more comfortable with the sensation. Another reason why we change them as young vamps is because they have more experience being human than being vampire, so the transition goes pretty smoothly. I slowly began to explain to Henry what happened last night after he bit me, and what to expect from here on out. He was still very powerful and would have to hide his new, super-human traits, but since he wasn't Gifted, they were mostly extra speed, strength and the ability to heal fast, which were pretty easy to keep secret. After he swore on his little sister's life that he would never tell a soul about Eli or me, or anything else regarding the vampire world or what happened to him, we told him he could return to his family. The smile on his face when I told him we would take him home now was absolutely priceless. I felt an emotional lump swelling in my heart that helped fill the large void where I once held my own happy family.
*****
"Okay, how you feelin'? Ready?" I said, turning to face Henry, who waited anxiously in the backseat with me as we pulled up to the curb only a few houses down from his parents. His parents were completely unaware that they were about to receive the surprise of a lifetime. Henry nodded, his blonde curls flopping on his forehead, and twisted his hands with nervousness.
"Hey, trust me. They'll be so happy to see you, they won't even care why you were gone," I assured him.
"I just don't think they'll believe I ran away. I was happy, and the varsity captain of my track team at only sixteen. I was taking us to State and already being scouted by colleges. Why would I run away from that?" Henry’s questions certainly had merit, but we didn't want them to think he was kidnapped, or the police investigation would never close, putting us all in danger.