by J. R. Rain
“You do and you don’t,” I say. “Look again.”
He does, squinting. “Ah, a diffraction effect. The light bends around you, like it would around a corner.”
“Except I’m not a corner,” I say. “And we’re not talking about light. We’re talking about my reflection.”
“Why you’re not showing up, but I can see the point where the light bends around you… yes, there. If you move a little, there is a shift in the mirror, like a glitch in the matrix, so to speak.”
“Great,” I say. “I’m big, fat honkin’ glitch.”
“Not big or fat, but definitely honkin’,” he says, and puts a shaking hand on my shoulder, his eyes still shifted left at the mirror. “We’ll figure something out.”
“Figure what out?” I ask.
“What’s happened to you and why.”
“You mean that?” I lean against him.
He wraps me in his arms. Fear is quite evident in his voice, but he doesn’t hesitate in embracing me. “Samantha Moon, you’re still everything to me. Even if you’ve… got a condition I don’t understand. When I agreed to that whole ‘until death do us part’ thing, I meant it.”
I become acutely aware of my overly sluggish heartbeat. Though, it’s quite peppier than it has been, a little slower than one beat per second. If I’m really a vampire, and I’m dead, does that mean our marriage is legally over? Here I go again, off the deep end.
“I meant it, Sam.” He kisses me. “If you’d been hit by a car and wound up in a wheelchair for the rest of your life, I’d still be there. This is no different.”
“Except I can still walk,” I smirk.
He chuckles. “Remember when you had a little too much wine at the Christmas party in ’92? I thought you were going to break your neck when you fell down that escalator.”
“Oof.” I cringe into a giggle. “I didn’t feel anything until the next morning. Hey, I’m not the only one accident-prone! How about when you tried surfing and smashed your face on the board? Your nose gushed for an hour. Sharks for miles turned in your direction.”
“That hurt so much. I’m just glad I didn’t lose any teeth.”
“Or get eaten alive.”
He brushes hair away from my eyes. “Can we stop talking about injuries? I’d much rather remember when we first met.”
I grin. “That still involved minor injuries.”
“Only to my pride.” He grins. “I shouldn’t have been running down the hallway.”
In college, I’d been in a rush to my next class and shoved the library door open, straight into Danny who had been running down the hallway. Papers went everywhere. I lose myself in the memory of the first time we looked at each other, almost eleven years ago. It took him three weeks to track me down after that collision.
We stand there reminiscing about that year, before Danny transferred to Gould School of Law at USC. Somehow, both of us managed to juggle dating and coursework. We relocate to the bedroom and relax, continuing to reminisce about good times, funny moments, and even some frustrating ones involving our yearlong project to restore this house.
The obvious unease that gripped him at seeing the mirror settles, and though nothing sexual happens between us, we share an intimate evening. It’s not too common that a married couple is also the best of friends. Despite everything going on with me right now, I still feel fortunate to have him.
I smile to myself, knowing that no matter how screwed up my life has become, Danny’s got my back.
Chapter Eighteen
Rare Condition
A soft knock at the front door reaches my ears.
I glance at the clock. “Who’s knocking on the door at 11:49 at night?”
“Really?” asks Danny. “I didn’t hear anything.”
“I’ve been hearing, seeing, and smelling things I shouldn’t be able to.”
He taps me on the head. “Are you sure you’re not imagining it?”
“Funny question coming from a husband who didn’t see his wife in a mirror.”
“Maybe we’re both bonkers.”
I scoot off the bed. “At this point, I’m all for it.”
“Better than the alternative?”
“Whatever the alternative is,” I said. Except, of course, we did know what the alternative is… and we both kept it to ourselves. For now.
Danny follows me to the front door. Finding Mary Lou standing on the porch is a mixture of surprise, comfort, and (at least for my husband) worry.
She hurries inside. “Sorry for showing up so late.” She looks furtively from Danny to me. “But I figured you’d be more awake now.” Mary Lou goes straight to the kitchen, not waiting for a response.
I ease the door closed and walk after her.
“I’ve been thinking about your issue.” Mary Lou spins to face me. “And I think you’re a vampire.”
I tilt my head. “Don’t beat around the bush, Mary Lou. Give it to me straight.”
“I just did…” She blinks, then smiles. “Oh, you’re messing with me.”
I look at Danny. “Well, at least I’m not the only crazy person in my family.”
“No, think about it…” She grabs my hand. “You’ve developed an allergy to the sun… although movies usually show vampires exploding into a cloud of ashes instantly.”
“Oh, yeah. And Hollywood is such a font of factual information,” I say, deadpan. Truth is, had I not been wearing sunscreen, hats and extra clothing… I might have come damn near exploding in the sun or dissolving into ashy nothingness, like in my dreams. Which, by the way, I was certain was given to me as a sort of prophetic what-if scenario. No, whatever I have become, or whatever had been triggered within my cells, or whatever I had contracted, had given me the dream as a warning. Sun equals death. Trust me, I get it.
“Did you just use the word ‘fact’ in the context of vampires?” asks Danny, half-chuckling.
Mary Lou’s hair dances from her quick back-and-forth stare between us. “Think about it, Danny. Sunlight. She’s alert at night, sleepy all day. The wound was on her neck, and it got better in days. Her neck, mind you. At first, they said the damage was so extensive she’d never talk again. Do you remember that, lest we all forget? Now? Not a mark on her! She’s pale. Her fingers are always cold. Maybe the rest of her too. Can’t eat food. Drinks only blood. I mean… how could she not be a vampire?”
“You know about that?” asks Danny.
“I saw the filthy bottle.” Mary Lou gestures at the fridge. “And Tammy said you threw up the other night while eating.”
Crap. I make a mental note to myself to be more careful about my eating habits. How hard is to say that Mommy’s not hungry? Sooner or later, I’m going to have to appear normal, at least to my kids. Even if Mary Lou’s theory turns out to be true, I can’t let the kids think things are anything other than normal. Both for their own sake in terms of sanity, as well as because kids blurt. I don’t want them getting teased for thinking their mother’s a vampire. Even if I am one.
What am I saying?
“But, of course, I can’t be.” I rake my hands up over my hair. “Like, that’s impossible, right?”
“No reflection,” adds Mary Lou, although it felt more like piling on.
“You know about that too?” asks Danny.
“I’m sorry.” I face him and sigh. “I had to tell someone, and you were so stressed out… I just didn’t want to make things any worse.”
He frowns, but nods a moment later. “Well, you did decide to let me in on the little secret without being caught, so there’s that. No more secrets?”
“No more secrets,” I say.
“Good. Now, can we address the fanged elephant in the room? Supernatural stuff like this doesn’t exist.”
“Doesn’t it?” asks Mary Lou. “There have been legends about vampires for centuries.”
“Folklore only,” says Danny. “Myths and legends about real people with real diseases like anemia, porphyria, XP.”
&
nbsp; “Or maybe vampires are using the diseases as excuses,” I smirk.
“Could be both.” Mary Lou bounces on her toes. “This is kind of exciting.”
I blink at her. “Did you just say exciting?”
“Well, if it’s all true.” She nods. “I mean, you would have like superpowers and… Sam, they say you’ll live forever.”
Her words hang in the air, and I’m the first to snort. Followed by Danny. Soon, we are doubled over. Danny holds onto the wall. Tears stream down my face, which, lately, is always exciting. Anything that resembles normal bodily functions is always exciting to me now. It takes a few minutes, but soon, Mary Lou joins in. Laughter, after all, is infectious. Unlike xeroderma pigmentosum… which most certainly is not.
“…sleep in coffins…” Danny rasps between giggles, which strikes me as so damn funny that I nearly have to pee, which I almost secretly wish I would… but I don’t.
“I vant to suck your blooood,” I say, except, well, I actually mean it, and with that thought, my laughter dies down.
“Did you two get that out of your system?” asks Mary Lou. “Can we have a real talk now?”
“A real talk about vampires?” asks Danny, wiping his eyes.
“Yes, dammit. There’s something going on here, and it’s something we need to address.”
I shake my head. “No, Mary Lou. I’ve somehow activated a dormant gene that’s triggered the xeroderma pigmentosum mutation or something.” Through it all, my rational mind still refuses to let in the supernatural.
Mary Lou grins. “That’s a perfect cover story.”
“Well, other than it being a genetic disorder that should start at birth.” Danny rubs his chin, once his laughter has died down to a few random, hiccuppy chuckles. “But I doubt many people have even heard of it, to begin with, much less would know it’s congenital.”
We both stare blankly at him.
“Means since birth,” he adds, shaking his head.
“Oh, right,” I say.
“Do you have fangs?” asks Mary Lou.
“No.” I bite my lip. “At least… I don’t think so.”
“Don’t think so?” asks Danny.
“Well, maybe I had a dream that I had fangs. I’m not sure it really happened.”
“Lemme see.” Mary Lou leans close to me.
I open my mouth.
“Your canines are kinda pointy. Can you make them longer?”
“No.”
“Try?” asks Mary Lou.
I think about making ‘my fangs’ grow, but nothing (as I expected) happens, other than my emitting some stupid noises. “See? No fangs. You should be wearing a tinfoil hat.”
She laughs.
But Danny eyes me warily. Wow, really? Does he seriously think this is possibly real? Okay, so maybe I am on the colder side, pale, allergic to sunlight, drinking blood, up all night/groggy all day, healing wounds stupid fast… but a vampire?
Okay, he might have a point. But… c’mon, right? There has to be a medical explanation for this. There just freakin’ has to be.
“You don’t think I’m a vampire, do you?” I ask, staring at my husband, but I know it’s not a fair question to ask him. At this point, who wouldn’t jump to that conclusion? But Danny wasn’t just anyone. He was my husband.
He fidgets. “The mirror thing is really damn hard to explain otherwise.”
“Look.” I take his hand. He’s tense all over again. Standoffish, even. Like, he doesn’t really accept my hand, my touch, only tolerates it. “Even if by some freaky chance this is real―and I don’t because I don’t believe in fairy tales―I will never harm you or the kids. Or Mary Lou, or anyone who isn’t a direct threat. I’m not a monster, Danny. I’m still me.”
He keeps staring at me, though his worry has ratcheted down a tick. His fingers tentatively curl around my hand. I’ll take tentative for now.
“All right,” he says.
“I mean it. If I ever so much as suspect I might be dangerous to anyone I love, I’ll hurl myself straight into the sun and end it all.”
A distinct sense of displeasure coils like a serpent around the back of my brain.
Well, whatever, I think. If you don’t like that idea, then don’t touch my family.
Mary Lou pulls a small thermos out of her giant purse, and hands it to me. “Sniff that and tell me what you think it is.”
I open the cap and give the contents a whiff. It smells… off, but appetizing. Like a beef connoisseur expecting filet and being given cube steak. Reacting on reflex, I tilt it back and drain the warm blood down my throat.
“Umm…” Danny glances between us. “What am I watching?”
“It’s sheep’s blood,” says Mary Lou. “You remember Loretta and Hank?” I shake my head, totally lost. She goes on. “You met them at my house a few years ago. Hank works with Rick.”
“Still lost.”
“Anyway, they have property in Chino Hills, with pigs, chicken, sheep, you name it. Well, she mentioned they were slaughtering one for food―a sheep, that is―so I asked if I could have some of the blood. I told her it was for a garden project. I’d read somewhere that blood meal makes for a great fertilizer.”
Eww, I want to say. And also yum. Instead, I pinch the bridge of my nose and try to process the concept of my sister bringing me a blood meal. With a sigh, I ask, “And they just handed you a thermos of sheep blood without thinking it weird?”
“Well, it’s not like it’s any kinda regular thing.” Mary Lou gives me a strange look: half fangirl, half freaked out. “I was right, though. You just drank it.” She takes the thermos from me and looks inside. “Like, every drop.”
“Every drop?” I ask.
Mary Lou looks at me. “You want to lick the inside of the thermos.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I won’t judge you, Sam.”
“Well, let’s make sure it’s clean before we give it back to them.”
“Oh, they said we can keep it, Sam.”
But she hands it to me anyway, and I turn my back to them and run my finger inside the thermos. It comes out glistening reddish-pink, and I lick it like the ghoul I just might be. I swipe my finger around the inside, lick again, and turn to face my husband and sister, who are both clearly staring at me.
“Sam… what’s happening?” asks Danny.
I open my mouth to speak, but Mary Lou grabs me in a tight hug. “I know you’re still Sammy. I’ll always be there for you, no matter what happens.”
Danny, meanwhile, stares at me from behind my sister. I give him a weak smile. His is even weaker.
When Mary Lou pulls away, I say, “I think Ruby Grace noticed something odd about me.”
Mary Lou nods. “She told me that you felt ‘different.’”
“Well, at least she didn’t hiss and growl.” I fold my arms.
Danny’s nervousness breaks into a chuckle. “What? Where’d that come from?”
“Property inspection for work. The resident’s cat did not like me.”
“Kids and animals can sometimes sense the paranormal.” Mary Lou squeezes my hand. “Look, I need to run home before Rick flips out with worry. You call me if you need anything, okay?”
“All right. I will.” I hug her back and walk her out. Standing in the open door, I watch her drive away. Once her taillights are out of view, I close it and sigh.
Danny surprises the hell out of me by hugging me tight from behind. “Vampire, huh?”
“Please. It’s gotta be a disease or something rational.”
He kisses the side of my neck. “Explain the reflection thing.”
“I can’t.”
“So…” He sways us side to side. “We tell the world you have XP, but we should open our minds to the possibility that you might’ve caught something a little less scientifically explainable.”
“Yes to the first part and no to the second.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t accept that vamp
ires are real.” I squirm around to face him, touching foreheads.
“And if they are?”
I open my mouth to speak, close it. I try again. “I’m scared, Danny.”
“Of what?”
“Of what that could mean for us. When I was lying there bleeding in the park, I knew I was going to die. I mean, I had no doubt. This was it. I was a goner. I felt every second slipping away, and all I wanted was to be with my family again. You and the kids are everything to me. I’m horrified at the thought that this happened because I refused to die. What if this is my fault? What if I asked for this?”
“You didn’t ask for any of this.” He crushes me into a hug and surprises me again by breaking into tears. “It’s not your fault.”
Him crying gets me crying. “Thank you for saying that. I’ll figure something out. We’ll be okay.”
“Absolutely, Samantha Moon.” Danny leans back and wipes at his cheeks. “We still have each other. We can do anything.”
I hug him, my chin resting on his shoulder. “Just put our minds to it.”
“Hey,” he says. “We fixed this house up. We can do anything”
Yeah, I think. Anything… except have Starbucks.
I sigh. “This might be bigger than rehabbing a house, Danny.”
“Then we’ll just have to be bigger than it.”
“This isn’t real, Danny.”
“Probably not.”
“One or the other of us is probably dreaming.”
“Probably.”
“I’m scared,” I say, and nestle deeper into his arms.
“I am, too, sweetie. I am, too.”
Chapter Nineteen
Stakeout
Thursday morning, I evidently decide to eat another qwerty sandwich.
However, I’m alert enough to sit up when I hear Chad’s chair squeak. He doesn’t catch me sleeping again, but I’m sure my face hit the desk hard enough that he heard the thud. The grogginess is still there, but it’s not as bad as it has been. Did I really ‘feed’ from a guy? Nothing’s been in the news about a murder in an LA parking garage, but I could’ve sworn that ache in my face had something to do with my teeth mutating into fangs or extending or something. The sight of blood had mesmerized me and when I woke up at home, the hunger had abated.