Mirror: Book One of the Valkanas Clan

by Noelle Ryan

  Once I’d written all these down, I began to experiment. I rested my fingers against my neck, testing for a pulse. I felt—well, I don’t know what I felt—it wasn’t exactly a pulse, but my jugular wasn’t completely still either. I felt the same very slight, almost imperceptible, movement when I rested my hand over the left side of my chest. If it was a heartbeat it certainly wasn’t a normal one, but something was still moving through my veins.

  Next I walked over to my couch, crouched down, lifted—and put a dent in my wall when the couch flipped twenty feet across the room. There went my security deposit—I guess that was a yes on the super strength. I decided to wait on testing the speed, since I didn’t want to accidentally damage anything else in my apartment by whipping around a corner too fast. Plus Beckett was already traumatized by the couch—he’d booked it into the bedroom and I was betting I wouldn’t see him again for a few hours. I didn’t blame him.

  What could I check next…I didn’t have any whole garlic, but there was some garlic powder in my spice rack. I unscrewed the lid and took a tentative sniff—and would have puked again if I hadn’t already emptied everything from my stomach earlier. Damn. No more extra-garlicky pasta sauce for me I guess. Of course, I still didn’t know if it would kill me, but I wasn’t in a rush to experiment any further with that one. But it did make me wonder if there were other foods I could eat. I grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl, peeled it, and took a big bite. It didn’t trigger my gag reflex, but it also didn’t taste good. Actually, it didn’t taste like anything. It was just flavorless texture, mushing around in my mouth. I forced myself to swallow, even though I wasn’t at all inclined to anymore. It went down fine, but I threw the rest of the banana away. I just couldn’t convince myself to continue chewing on something that felt more like pureed cardboard than actual food to my new senses.

  I was digging through my jewelry box looking for the cross my grandmother had given me years ago to see if it burned me when I suddenly realized that Ava was going to call. A minute later, the phone rang. Now that was new—I was used to knowing who was calling as soon as the phone began ringing—an unusual, if irrelevant, “talent” I’d had since childhood—but this was the first time I’d known it a solid minute in advance. I almost didn’t answer because I didn’t know what to say to her, but guilt caused me to grab it just before it went to voicemail.

  “Hey Ava.”

  “Aly? Oh thank God—are you okay? I got your email, but it didn’t explain what happened to you yesterday. I’ve left you about a dozen messages I think. I was afraid—” her voice cracked, edging on tears, and I felt like a terrible friend. I’d been conducting little experiments while she’d been worrying herself sick over me.

  “I’m okay.” Well, relatively. “I was attacked yesterday on my way to the restaurant—”

  “What?! Who attacked you? Is that why those cop cars showed up? No-one could figure out what was going on, and when they left with no-one in the vehicles I just assumed it had been a false alarm.”

  “Yes. No. I mean—yes, that’s why the cop cars showed up, no it wasn’t a false alarm; I’d dialed 9-1-1 just before I was knocked unconscious, but one of my students found me and rescued me…” I faltered. Did it really count as a rescue if you had to turn someone into a vampire to save her? “um, anyway, he’d carried me off before the cops showed up, so that’s why they didn’t find me.”

  “He what?” Her voice rose, and I held the phone as far from my ear as I could and bumped the volume down as low as it would go on my cell. I guess I could check off super-sensitive hearing too. “Why would he carry you away from the cops if you’d been attacked? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  I was on the verge of telling her—we’d made a promise never to lie to one another years ago, after we’d discovered the male bonding time my then-boyfriend and her then-fiancé had said they’d been spending with each other had actually been spent in the company of blonde co-eds. But I wanted to avoid being confined to a strait-jacket even more and so, trying to convince myself I was only protecting both of us by not telling her the truth, I decided to lie.

  “Um, I’m not completely sure, actually.” I paused, uncertain how to explain. “I think it was because he’s an EMT and his apartment was right around the corner. That was how he came across me, actually, he was walking to campus for a class. He, uh, had medical supplies at his place and figured that would be quicker than calling emergency personnel. He didn’t realize I’d already called them before I’d blacked out,” I said.

  That barely made any sense at all. Guess vampirism didn’t come with the ability to suddenly concoct brilliant lies just because it gave you the need to tell them. I crossed my fingers, willing her to buy it and not ask any more questions. I didn’t think I could come up with anything else to explain all the gaps in my story.

  “Oh, I see. Well that’s good, I’m just glad you’re okay. You owe me some tacos, though, for making me worry so much!” Her voice sounded too chipper, too relieved. Maybe I was wrong about not having new persuasive abilities. I felt like a Jedi.

  “These are not the vamps you’re looking for,” I murmured to myself, and began giggling.

  “What?” Her voice was suddenly sharp again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Oh, um” I couldn’t stop giggling. Deep breath, Aly. Deep breath. Though, come to think of it, I wasn’t even sure if I needed to breathe anymore. This also suddenly seemed funny. I doubled over, laughing harder.

  “Aly? What’s going on? Why are you laughing?”

  “Ah,” I gasped. “No, fine, fine, just tired. You know how I get when I’m tired, all slap-happy. I’m going to go now, okay?”

  I hung up before she could answer, and rocked back and forth on the floor, laughing. I realized I must not need to breathe, because I shook without pause, without enough air in my lungs to make any noise at all. Eventually, it subsided, and I rolled onto my back to stare at the ceiling. I closed my eyes, taking deep, if unnecessary, breaths. They soothed me, somehow.

  I must have drifted into sleep without realizing it, because when I opened my eyes it was dark out, and I was ravenous. I scrounged through my kitchen, but everything I took a bite of was just like the banana—tasteless texture I could barely swallow that did nothing to alleviate my hunger. I was standing in front of my open pantry, staring sadly at some of my favorite foods, when I heard a door open and close above me, followed by the sound of my neighbor’s steps on the stairs—and then I could smell her, and my mouth began to water, my feet sliding toward the door without any conscious thought on my part. I didn’t even notice I had moved until I felt the cool metal of the door knob inside my hand. I froze, locking my joints against the force that screamed through me, trying to open the door. Her heartbeat sounded like thunder as she walked by my landing and my knees almost buckled. I didn’t move an inch until I heard her car pull out of the lot below, and then I sagged against the door.

  Four

  “Impressive self-restraint. Thanks for sparing me the effort.”

  “Damnit, Tom.” I instantly recognized his voice this time, and I was angry at myself for not noticing him sooner “I liked you much better when I thought you were just a dutiful military man who would be a positive influence on my class.”

  He laughed. “I’d wondered what your first impressions of me would be.”

  “What do you mean, ‘would be’? Did you pick my class for a particular reason?”

  “No.” His jaw clenched.

  “You’re a terrible liar, Tom.”

  “As are you. ‘He’s an EMT and his apartment was around the corner,’” he trilled in a mocking falsetto. “A five year old could have come up with a better explanation than that. What happens if she discovers I actually live seven miles from campus?”

  My face went cold, then hot. “What right do you have listening to my private phone calls?”

  “Plenty. I made you.”

  “What in the hell is that supposed to mean?” My
voice was climbing, reaching decibels sure to disturb my neighbors if I didn’t calm down. I clenched my fists, trying to remember how to be calm, rational.

  “That it’s my responsibility to make sure you can control yourself, and don’t expose us. There are rules.”

  His voice was calm now, relaxing, and I could feel my fists slowly uncurling. Then it dawned on me that he was imposing his wishes onto me, like I had probably just done to Ava. I clenched my fists again, pushing back the urge to simply accept what he was saying and change the topic to a more pleasant conversation. After a few seconds, I noticed his fingers were curling too, his knuckles whitening.

  “You’re stronger than we’d expected,” he said quietly.

  “We?” I shoved all my will into that question, trying to duplicate what I had accidentally done with Ava. You will answer me, you will answer me, I repeated silently, glaring at him.

  “Damian and Valerie, of course—” He looked shocked, and then literally bit his tongue and shook his head. “Now that was interesting. I’ve never had a newborn turn my will back on me like that before. I won’t hear the end of it from Damian, I’m sure.” Something shifted in his tone, and his gaze changed from the kind of patronizing look someone might give a sullen teenager to one of cautious respect.

  “Tell me what you’re talking about.” My voice was solid ice, and I was sweating from focusing so hard on trying to make my question impossible to avoid.

  “Sorry, once bitten...” He laughed. “You won’t be able to force me again, or at least not without a few years more practice.” He laughed abruptly. “Though I will be entertained to see how Damian reacts to you. Maybe I’ll wait to tell them.” He paused. “I’m sorry, I’m being rude. I haven’t turned anyone in two decades, and I—” he stopped, and his smile disappeared. “Anyway, that’s beside the point. I’m sorry, truly.”

  I glared at him, unwilling to let him off the hook so easily. For all I knew he was a talented actor and was trying to sway me with some feigned mysterious tragedy since his willpower alone couldn't do it.

  “Here, I brought you something to eat,” he said.

  My stomach lurched, at first with hunger and then, as it dawned on me what “something to eat” might mean, disgust.

  “I’m a vegetarian,” I muttered, embarrassed to find myself looking away.

  He smiled, then reached his hand out to turn my face back towards his. His hand was cool and calloused, but his grip was gentle. Startled, it took me a moment before I jerked away.

  “Why were you a vegetarian?” he asked.

  “Please don’t use the past tense.”

  “Okay,” he grinned, “why are you a vegetarian?”

  “Because the thought of killing animals for the sake of my taste buds seemed wrong to me as a child—it still does.”

  “What about killing plants?”

  I shrugged. “I guess it’s unavoidable sometimes, but with a lot of them you’re only taking a part of the plant, not killing it. Picking apples doesn’t kill an apple tree. Plus plants don’t seem to feel pain the way animals do.”

  “Then you should be delighted with your new diet, because it won’t require you to kill or inflict pain at any time, on anything, plant or animal.”

  I glared at him. “I felt my reaction to my neighbor walking downstairs—I could barely stop myself from barreling through the door to sink my teeth into her neck.” I paused. “I would have killed her.”

  “That's our base instinct if we’re really hungry. I shouldn’t have let you go so long, but after you were able to resist my command to rest I wasn't sure how to approach you again. And I have to admit I was curious as to how you’d handle your first bloodlust. I apologize. But I never would have let you hurt her, if that’s any consolation.”

  “So if that’s not how you feed, then…how?”

  He pulled out a plastic pouch that was marked O-, and every muscle in me tensed when I realized it was blood.

  “This is one way. Not the most enjoyable way, mind you, but it’s convenient if nothing else presents itself.”

  He tossed me the package, and, without thinking, I stuck a corner in my mouth, heard a pop, and felt thick liquid begin to coat my tongue. I even swallowed a few times before my brain caught up and told me I should be gagging, not greedily sucking the package dry, but my body won out. The pint was drained within a few seconds, and I looked up at Tom, half-hating myself for how easily I’d swallowed the first bag—and half-hoping he’d brought more. He had, and slid a box full of them to me, resuming his explanation as I drank.

  “The other way, of course, is straight from the tap, if you’ll excuse the metaphor. It's only gruesome and painful if the vamp doesn’t know what he’s doing, or is a sadistic S.O.B., like the one you had the misfortune of coming across in the alley yesterday.”

  “You were hunting that one.”

  “That’s part of my job. Or was, at least. That might change now. Anyway, done right, a human will either feel nothing at all or will feel blissful—and afterwards, they’ll forget the experience entirely,” he said.

  “If they forget it entirely, then why are vampires such persistent figures in various myths, legends, and modern novels? Where would people even get the idea from in the first place?”

  He chuckled—again. Boy, I was just a constant source of amusement for him. It was starting to get on my nerves.

  “Trust the professor to jump to questions with uncertain answers so quickly.”

  “It’s hard to avoid years of training, and asking questions is how I deal with overwhelming situations,” I said. “Well, that or freaking out. I’m assuming you’d prefer this approach though.” I got up and retrieved the list of questions I’d been working on earlier that day, deciding I might as well ask him. “Here are my others for now. I’d appreciate anything you can answer.”

  This garnered another laugh as he glanced down at my scribbled notes. When he saw my check mark next to “superhuman strength,” he said “ah, that would explain why your couch is upside down. I was wondering about that.”

  His cell started ringing, and he tucked my list in his pocket as he answered. I quickly realized that my newly acute hearing easily allowed me to hear both sides of the conversation despite Tom having the volume on low.

  “Yes, sire?” Tom said.

  “Are you with Alyson now, Thomas?”

  “Yes, she’s here with me. We’re at her apartment.”

  “Good. Bring her here.”

  Tom stiffened slightly, and shook his head almost imperceptibly.

  “Damian, I don’t think that’s the best idea.” He glanced at me. “She’s not handling the change well just yet and I don’t wish to add any further shock to her system. And I…” he trailed off, looking uncomfortable. “Her abilities prevent her from being willed against her wishes.”

  I glared at him. It seemed to me I was handling “the change” pretty damn well. I had yet to run screaming naked down the street yelping “stake me, stake me now!” and I’d managed not to suck the life out of anyone.

  “Really? How very interesting,” Damian said. “Still, it’s better for her to be here than there. Bring her now.”

  I heard a click, and Tom listened to silence for a moment before closing his phone. He raised an eyebrow at me. “Well?”

  “Well what?” I said, trying to decide whether my urge to meet this Damian or my urge to throw a hissy fit about being ordered around was greater.

  “Aly, I know you heard every word Damian said. Will you come with me willingly?”

  “Why'd you tell him I wasn’t handling the change well?”

  “Actually, you’re handling it exceptionally well, given the circumstances. I just don’t think,” he paused and looked away, pulling his hand across his face. “It doesn’t matter. Will you come with me?”

  “What happens if I say no?” I asked.

  Tom sighed. “I’d rather not find out. You’ve already shown me that you can resist my will when you want
to, so I’d have to bring you in by force. Please don’t put me in that position.”

  I paused, trying to look thoughtful. I was hoping that if he thought I was going only as a favor to him it would make him more inclined to do me a favor down the line. “Alright, I’ll go. But I’m not calling anyone ‘sire’ or ‘milady’ or any crap like that.”

  Tom laughed. “I’m sure Damian and Valerie will find that tremendously entertaining.”

  Five

  Tom had an old but very well maintained open-air Jeep. When we pulled onto Grinstead Drive and began picking up speed, I was too overwhelmed by the rush of wind and night noises to even attempt conversation. I wondered if this was how dogs felt when they hung their heads out of car windows—with all the scents and sounds barreling into me, I felt like a cup being filled under Niagara Falls. I couldn’t hold on to any sensory impression for more than a split second before another one took over. Must-spice-pine-smoke, chirp-hoot-howl-laugh; I kept my eyes shut so I didn’t become completely overwhelmed by catching every detailed leaf edge or grass blade.

  “My first car ride after my change was like that, too. It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

  I could only nod my head, glad I wasn’t trying to drive like this.

  A few minutes later, we pulled up outside one of the Cherokee drive mansions, and it was my turn to chuckle. “Just how much of a snob is this Damian?” I asked.

  Tom smiled. “He loved The Great Gatsby, and when he found out Daisy Buchanan’s childhood home was based on one of these, he decided he had to move here.”

  “A literature fan, huh? Well I guess that will give us something to talk about. At least I won’t be the only bookworm here.”

  Tom’s jaw clenched. “I doubt you’ll be talking about books,” he said, and slammed his door.