Destined For a Vampire

by M. Leighton

  “So, in a way, she’s the key to it all.”

  Lucius nodded curtly.

  I was angry—inordinately and irrationally angry—giving me the sudden urge to put Lucius and his disturbing tales behind me, at least for the time being. There was no escaping them forever if I thought to help Bo and keep him in my life for a little while longer, but there was nothing I could do today. So I was walking away.

  “Thanks for your help,” I said sharply, turning a tight smile on Lucius and heading for the door.

  “I know it’s not what you want to hear,” Lucius began, but I cut him off.

  “No, but I guess it’s what I need to hear, right?” I laughed bitterly and opened the door. “See you, Lucius.”

  I stomped the entire way back to my car, giving myself a bone deep ache in my lower back by the time I was sitting behind the wheel.

  “Smart, Ridley. Very smart,” I chastised in the silence of my car.

  I pulled off the side of the shoulder and onto the road, blasting the radio, determined to drown out all the nasty voices in my head, all the hopelessness and despair that was threatening to overtake me.

  The first station I turned to was playing a country song about needing someone in the middle of the night. When the first five or six bars made me want to cry, I switched the channel.

  The next song I stopped on was singing about not being strong enough to stand in someone’s arms without falling at their feet.

  Click, click, click. I quickly turned the dial. That one made me want to drive my car right off the road.

  Every single station I landed on was playing something sad or depressing. I decided to abandon the radio in favor of a CD, but I’d forgotten that the last band I’d chosen was one that reminded me of Bo. I ended up turning the music off completely, deciding I’d be better off listening to the silence than music that made me feel all the more. I didn’t want to feel at all. I wanted mind-numbing, heart-blocking distraction.

  By the time I arrived back at my house, my mood was more sour than ever. I had every intention of just going straight back to my room, but Mom called out to me before I could get the door closed.

  “There’s a message in here for you.”

  I wanted to respond with I don’t care, but that would only further aggravate matters, so I turned from my door and walked back to the living room.

  “From who?”

  “Sebastian Aiello.”

  “Oh.” At least it could’ve been a good message. “What did he want?”

  “He didn’t have your cell number, so he called here. He said that you two had talked about something for tonight.”

  I had all but forgotten. I wanted to growl.

  “Yeah, he mentioned something about it, but he was supposed to call me.”

  “I just told you he did.”

  I gritted my teeth.

  “I meant sooner than now. Like yesterday.”

  “Well, as I said, you didn’t give him your cell number so…”

  I sighed. “What time?”

  “From eight until about eleven, he said.”

  I was feeling prickly and saw an opportunity to be difficult, so I took it.

  “Well, I guess you’ll have to call him and tell him that I can’t, since I can’t be out after dark.” I couldn’t hide my satisfied smirk.

  “I told him we’d been concerned about all the violence. He’s going to pick you up at 7:30 and he’ll bring you home when he gets back.”

  Her smile was slight, but the gleam in her eye was nothing short of victorious. I wanted to scream. I just couldn’t win!

  “Great,” I said, too brightly. I’d be darned if I let her see that she’d ruffled my feathers. I refused to give her the perverse satisfaction. “I could use some extra money. I’ll be ready.”

  With that, I turned to walk calmly back to my room. Somehow, I even managed to resist slamming the door. Maybe I had more self control that I thought.

  It only took about half an hour of trying to occupy myself with music and magazines to realize that it was going to take something much more involved to distract me. That’s when I decided to clean out my closet. And then my drawers.

  And then rearrange my furniture.

  I worked like the devil was after me until Mom knocked on my door at 7:26, informing me that Sebastian had arrived.

  We both looked down at my soiled clothes and she said disapprovingly, “I’ll tell him you’ll be out in just a few minutes.”

  I was almost relieved for it to be time to do something else. I welcomed the consuming diversion of Lilly, so I quickly changed clothes and ran the brush through my hair and headed out to meet Sebastian.

  I nearly tripped over my feet when I saw him standing in the foyer. He was simply beautiful. It’s not that I was attracted to him per se; I had eyes for only one guy and that guy was Bo. It was more that he was just…breathtaking. Almost painfully perfect. I’m pretty sure that a specimen like Sebastian was used by Michelangelo when he carved David.

  Tonight, he was wearing a tuxedo and he looked marvelous. His gleaming skin shone against the stark white collar of his shirt and his shoulders looked impossibly wide. His blond hair was combed neatly away from his forehead, but had fallen rakishly, rebelliously to one side.

  When he saw me, he smiled and I felt a flush heat my cheeks.

  “Ready?”

  I nodded.

  “I really appreciate you helping me out like this,” he said, opening the door for me.

  “No problem,” I said, brushing past him to step outside.

  “Becky,” he said, turning back to address my mother, who hadn’t moved an inch and still hadn’t closed her mouth all the way. “Thanks for letting me borrow her.”

  Mom smiled, a dazed sort of smile that made me want to laugh. I’d say Sebastian had that effect on a lot of women. Probably some men, too. Children, animals, plants—I doubted there were many organisms immune to his charm and charisma.

  Purring quietly in the driveway was a glossy black sedan that looked ridiculously expensive. I didn’t know much about cars, but only an idiot wouldn’t have known that this one cost a pretty penny. Several, in fact.

  He opened my door for me and closed it behind me once I was seated. It closed with a muffled thump that whispered money into the silent interior. The sound of my car door closing was vaguely reminiscent of a nickel hitting the bottom of a tuna can—cheap and tinny.

  I inhaled. The car still had that new smell that I loved. I’d tried the air freshener called “new car scent” before, but it smelled more like an old plastic trash bag than this: the real deal.

  Sebastian opened the door and folded his long legs behind the steering wheel, shifted into gear and then we were off.

  He chatted politely on the short trip, sticking to small-talk topics like school and weather. When we arrived, Lilly was waiting for me, so I barely spoke to him as he left. He merely reminded me that he’d made fresh lemonade, his number was on the fridge and that he’d be back by eleven.

  Lilly was dressed in a pink princess nightgown and itty bitty high heel slippers. A tiara was on her crown, nestled in her thick auburn hair. She was gorgeous.

  With great pomp and circumstance, she ushered me into her playroom where she had arranged an elaborate tea with several of her favorite stuffed animals, including Pia the polar bear and Lenny the llama.

  She showed me my seat and I perched carefully on the edge of the little wooden chair, careful not to put too much of my weight on it.

  In an oh-so-adult way, Lilly proceeded to make introductions.

  “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Bear and Mr. Llama,” I said, reaching out to shake their furry feet.

  “They’re married, so they both have the same last name,” Lilly informed me.

  Lilly’s perfectly articulated words and quick mind were amazing to me. It had been a long time since I’d been around children, but I was pretty sure she was extremely advanced to be just shy of four.

  “Oh, I’
m sorry. Mr. and Mrs. Llama, then.”

  She nodded, satisfied with my correction.

  “This is Mr. Mallard,” she said, indicating the duck that sat to her right.

  “And this is his daughter, Lilly,” she explained, pointing to the duckling that was squished into a tiny high chair across the pink plastic table from me.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Lilly. I love your name,” I said, winking at the real Lilly. She smiled prettily.

  “She’s happy to meet you, but she misses her mother.”

  There was a hint of sadness in Lilly’s silvery blue eyes and I felt the pinch of a frown between my eyes. I purposely smoothed it.

  The characters at tonight’s tea party were much different than the ones from the other night. I couldn’t help but wonder why these had so much more emotional depth, what Lilly was thinking of and why.

  I had no idea why Lilly’s mother wasn’t in the picture. No one had ever mentioned her, but now, considering tonight’s cast of characters, I was more than a little curious.

  “She does? What happened to her mother?”

  I watched Lilly fiddle with the big red bow around the duckling’s neck, a very maternal gesture. I wanted to ask a thousand questions, but I couldn’t let myself forget that she was just a child, just a baby really.

  Then something occurred to me: I’d heard of therapists using stuffed animals in children’s sessions before. I couldn’t see why I shouldn’t give it a try.

  “What happened to your mother, Lilly?” I asked, careful to address my question to the duck Lilly, not the real Lilly.

  Lilly just shrugged, putting a white handkerchief in the duckling’s lap like a napkin. When she began to pour tea, evidently having no intention of answering my question, I took a different tack.

  “What about you, Mr. Mallard? What happened to Lilly’s mother?”

  “Her daddy doesn’t talk about it. But he’s sad. He loved his Mrs. Mallard and wishes he could see her every day.”

  Lilly was twisting my heart around her teeny tiny finger and she didn’t even know it. I wanted to gather her in my arms and make her pain go away.

  “One day, maybe Mr. Mallard will find someone else he loves just as much and Lilly will love her, too, and she can be a part of their family,” I offered tenderly.

  Oh, how I hoped that could happen for sweet Lilly!

  Lilly’s perfect cupid’s-bow mouth rounded into a silent “oh”, her shimmering eyes widening in excitement as she looked toward me.

  “Could you marry Mr. Mallard? You could be Lilly’s new momma.”

  If possible, my heart squeezed even tighter.

  “I’m not a duck. I couldn’t marry Mr. Mallard.”

  “But Lilly likes you.”

  “And I like Lilly. It’s just that Mr. Mallard needs another duck. So does Lilly. And one day, Mr. Mallard will find that perfect duck and they’ll get married and then Lilly and her family can live happily ever after.”

  Lilly sighed, chewing at her lip. “I guess,” she said, nodding in agreement.

  But I wasn’t convinced. Her expression said that she didn’t have any hope that her family would ever be whole again.

  How could a child so young, so sweet, have so much adult despair in her big beautiful eyes? What had happened in her short life to put it there? What tragedy had stolen the bliss of her youth?

  With a resilience that only the innocent can manage, Lilly snapped right out of her melancholy and began presiding over her tea party as only a princess can. I laughed more than once at her charming performance and quick mind. I was rapidly discovering that she was a truly amazing child.

  Lilly took a break from hosting to watch some cartoons. I sat on the couch opposite her, but it wasn’t long until she climbed down from hers and walked over to mine, crawling up to sit beside me.

  As we watched the animated adventures of Dora, Lilly inched her way closer and closer to me until her head was in my lap and her thumb was nestled squarely in her mouth.

  I reached down to brush a few chestnut strands away from her cheek and her soft, sweet baby scent wafted up to my nose. Her lids began to blink more slowly until they dropped and didn’t rise again.

  Her tiny shoulders rose and fell with her deep, even breathing and I thought I could actually feel her wiggling her way into my heart and making herself a place there.

  I waited a few minutes, letting her get good and asleep before moving her, then I picked her up and carried her to her bed, tucking her snugly beneath her Princess Jasmine comforter.

  After I’d put her to bed, I wandered aimlessly through the house. At the front of my mind were two things: that book in Sebastian’s office and the way I lost time the last time I was here.

  It made me uneasy to think about, especially since I still wasn’t sure what had happened. I was grateful that it hadn’t happened since then, and I hoped that it wouldn’t again. But in some strange way, because I hadn’t blacked out like that again, I seemed to be blaming the book for that first occurrence. For that reason, irrational though it was, I was hesitant to go to the book again.

  I was flipping idly through a magazine when Sebastian returned home. He looked exactly as dapper as he had when he’d left, not the least bit wrinkled or mussed.

  He walked straight into the den, removing his cuff links as he walked. He flopped down on the couch Lilly had first occupied and leaned his head back against the cushions.

  He exhaled in an exhausted puff and said tiredly, “I hate formal events.”

  I had no idea what to say to that, not having been to anything more important than prom last year. I did, however, feel really guilty that he had to take me home now.

  “You know, since you’re tired, I can call my parents for a ride.”

  Sebastian raised his head, frowning. “Absolutely not. It’s no trouble and I’m not that tired.”

  I nodded, still feeling terrible about it.

  “How did Lilly do?”

  I smiled. “Great. She’s an amazing little girl.”

  I thought of the odd beginning to our tea party, but said nothing. It was not my place and none of my business. That was one curiosity I’d have to take extra pains in squelching.

  “She is something else,” he declared proudly. “So, no more questions about the book?”

  I was confused for all of about thirty seconds and then my mouth dropped open.

  “P-pardon?”

  “Last time, you paused the movie to bombard me with questions as soon as I came in the door. And tonight? Nothing,” he said, grinning.

  My mind was awhirl. I’d asked Sebastian questions about the book? Now, as bothersome as it was that I’d blacked out, I’d found something even more frustrating about the whole thing: I had asked questions about the book and, I would assume, had gotten some answers. Now, how was I ever going to know what I’d learned?

  I put my magazine to the side and sat up straighter. “You didn’t mind?”

  “Are you kidding? Mythology isn’t just my profession, it’s my passion. It’s nice to see that someone else has an interest. Ask away,” he offered.

  Of course, I wanted so badly to ask him a thousand questions, but if I asked the same ones I’d already asked, he’d think I was insane. More than he probably already did, that is.

  “Actually, I probably need to do some research before I ask any more questions. You know, so that I know what I’m talking about.” I smiled sheepishly, hoping he wouldn’t suspect anything out of the way.

  “Sure, sure. Anytime you want to talk…”

  “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

  We fell into a bit of an uncomfortable silence, which Sebastian broke when he slapped his knees and stood.

  “Well, I guess you’d like to go home sometime tonight, huh?”

  “Whenever you’re ready,” I replied amicably, standing also.

  When Sebastian turned toward the kitchen, making his way to the door that led to the garage, I spoke up, concerned. “Um,” I began u
ncertainly. “What about Lilly?”

  Was he just going to leave her alone in the house, unattended, with no idea where he’d gone if she awakened?

  “Our housekeeper’s here,” he said nonchalantly.

  “Oh, I didn’t know you had a housekeeper.”

  Not only had I not seen her, Lilly hadn’t mentioned her either.

  “She stays in her room mostly when she’s not busy.”

  “Oh,” I responded, not knowing what else to say. It felt a little weird, knowing that someone had been lurking about the entire time I’d been in the house without me knowing it. It gave me the creeps for some reason, especially since there was a large portion of my last visit that I couldn’t remember.

  I followed Sebastian to the car and he drove me home. We were both silent the whole way.

  When he pulled up to the curb in front of my house, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his money clip, peeling another hundred dollar bill off the top.

  “I really appreciate you taking care of Lilly for me,” he said sincerely, handing me the money.

  “That’s too much,” I said, pushing his hand away. “You weren’t gone that long.”

  “Here, take it,” he said, grabbing my fingers and winding them around the bill. His hand was warm and strong, but soft. Almost too soft. “I want you to have it.”

  I didn’t want to argue too much about it, so I thanked him and got out of the car. He didn’t drive off right away. He waited until I was inside before leaving.

  Mom and Dad had waited up for me.

  “How’d it go?” Mom asked.

  “Just fine,” I said, drawing my arms up in an exaggerated stretch. “I think I’m going to go on to bed. I’m pretty tired.”

  They both nodded. I didn’t think I’d get much argument from them.

  Once in my room, I brushed my teeth and washed my face, changed into my pajamas, the whole nighttime ritual. As I was shutting the bathroom light off, I gazed around my empty bedroom, feeling lonely and melancholy. I didn’t often miss my old life, but there were times when I longed for the simple problems that I used to have, the ones that I thought were earth-shattering. Oh, how perspective changes!