“No, I’m interested. Tell me.” I had to hear what she considered a stupid decision. “I’ll still enjoy the movie.”
“If you’re sure …” She warmed to her topic. “Well, in order to win the love of the mortal male, the witch, played by the marvelous Kim Novak, had to give up her magic. She had to literally stop using witchcraft and become society’s limited idea of a good girl to be rewarded with love. She had to conform.”
“That sounds like Bewitched’s Samantha, always trying to please the mortal husband by denying what she is.”
“Yes!” She clapped her hands together. “Precisely. What would possess so powerful a woman to allow herself to be diminished? But we both know women do it every day.”
“That’s true. In fact, that’s sort of why I wanted to see you.”
“I suspected as much.” She rose, headed into the kitchen, and came back with two bottles of water. She gave one to me and returned to the rocker. “Let me center myself and then we can begin.”
Suddenly nervous, I rubbed my palms against the fabric of the couch. “Aren’t you going to use your cards?” She’d laid out tarot cards before when we met in person.
“I can if you’d like me to, but they’re not necessary. My intuition tells me I need to focus deeply for you, which is easier if I’m not working with the cards. Is that okay?”
“Sure. Absolutely. Whatever is best for you.”
She closed her eyes and breathed slowly. As I watched her
inhaling and exhaling and listened to the crackling fire, I began to
relax, too.
Eyes still closed, she spoke. “First, I want to mention that your brain is different today.”
I tensed, my relaxation out the window. “What do you mean?” Oh no—is my brain even more altered than I feared?
“All is well, Kismet—your brain is fine. But the first time I met you, I detected a subtle influence operating, as if some of your neuro-pathways had been rewired. I recognized it because I’d seen it before. That’s how I knew you were spending time with strong vampires—it’s their calling card. Today that subtle effect is gone. Your mind is clear, powerful. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”
“Yes.” There was no use in lying or evading. If I wanted help, I had to be open to it. “I learned recently that being around vampires, especially old, powerful ones, affects my brain.” I took a breath and figured I might as well dive right in. “Do you know Devereux?”
She opened her eyes and studied me. “I do. I’ve met him several times. Many of Devereux’s vampires come to me for readings. He’s one of the most potent vampires in the world. I’m aware that you’ve been spending time with him. It must be difficult for you to be yourself in his presence.” She frowned. “But what’s the meaning of your state of mind today? Why don’t I sense his influence? Ahhh—” She nodded. “Something has happened to erase it from your mind. Someone intervened. Another vampire.” Surprise colored her tone.
“Yes.” I swallowed at this demonstration of her abilities. “She cleared all vampire effects and control from my brain, and made me harder for them to read for a few days. I hadn’t realized how restricted I was until I wasn’t.”
She closed her eyes again. “Anne Boleyn? How fascinating. You met the notorious queen? Why would she help you?” I started to answer and she held up a hand. “Oh, I see. She wasn’t helping—she was hoping to cause trouble and annoy Devereux. She’s a little angry with him because … oh yes, an old romantic issue. But the end result actually benefited you. But there’s more.” She opened her eyes. “What else is worrying you?”
Deciding not to think about Anne hoping to cause trouble, I let the idea evaporate and reminded myself that vampires were not human. “How much do you know about the events that took place on Halloween at the Vampires’ Ball?”
“I know everything.”
And she went on to prove that she did.
“Out of jealousy, one of Devereux’s offspring, Bryce, set a ritual trap for him, involving the insane vampire Lucifer, who killed so many people across the country. The very same madman who became obsessed with you. Devereux wasn’t able to defeat Lucifer, and it weighs heavily on his mind. He burns with the need to balance the scales. He’s so caught up in restoring his reputation that he’s losing perspective, no longer thinking clearly. His emotions are volatile. Lucifer still stalks you, and you are afraid.”
Yep. Got it in one.
My mouth had gone dry, so I opened the water and took a long drink. “I’d say that about covers it. At this point, I only see two choices. I can continue to spend time with Devereux, who might be the only person with any hope of protecting me from Lucifer, but my brain would become more and more affected until I eventually lose myself.”
I paused for breath, then continued. “Or I can stay away from him and wait for Lucifer to show up and kill me. Needless to say, both those options reek. I came to ask if you can sense any other possibilities. And if you happen to see anything else I need to know, I’d appreciate if you’d tell me. I feel like I’ve been wandering in fog for the last three months.”
She stared at me for several seconds, her lips pressed together, before she cleared her throat and spoke. “You’ve come a long way in your struggle to accept things like vampires and psychics like me. It’s impressive that you’re here asking the right questions and have the courage to hear the answers.”
“Thank you. I never had any problem with you—I’ve always believed in the validity of psychic abilities. Psychics are different from vampires. There’s scientific proof that the human mind is capable of much more than we’ve discovered so far. I guess I didn’t realize psychic abilities could be as extensive as yours—and Devereux’s—are, but I never doubted that they’re real. It took me a bit longer to process the existence of vampires, but now that I’m committed to working with them therapeutically, I have to find a way to protect myself from all of them. Can you see any other choices for me?”
“I can, but first let’s discuss the one that’s totally in your hands.”
“What’s that?”
“You must learn to still your mind and calm your emotions. Even though you are a rational woman, a scientist with an analytical mind, you come across to others—energetically—as if you function from pure emotion. It’s a paradox. Devereux told you that thoughts are fueled by emotions and that’s one reason why yours are so easy for him to read. He also told you that you have your own talents, which you haven’t fully explored yet.”
“Yes!” My heart leaped. “That’s what I want to know about! My supposed abilities. Vampires tell me that all the time. Can you give me any insight into what they’re talking about?” If she could just do that, I’d owe her forever.
She paused, her gaze tracking around the edges of my body. “You have a unique energy field. There’s something unusual—almost nonhuman—about you. I think that’s why you attract so many supernatural and paranormal creatures and situations. It’s as if you’re shining out an invisible beacon, and they’re answering.”
It felt like she was psychically dissecting my very DNA. “What? I don’t attract a lot of anything. Just because I stumbled onto some vampires …” I trailed off and shifted uncomfortably.
“Not only vampires. You also communicate with ghosts. You attract witches. Even I feel pulled. The unknown world has yet to fully show itself to you. And your own psychic abilities are much greater than you think. If you spent even an hour a day exercising them you’d discover the talents the vampires can’t help but notice.” She leaned toward me. “Forgive me for mixing metaphors, but now that the veil has been lifted and you’ve tasted the apple, what are you going to do about it?”
“That’s why I came to you.” I gave her a helpless look. “I don’t know what I can do about it.”
“You know more than you think, and I can help you with the rest. Do you meditate?”
“I know how to meditate, but I don’t do it regularly. My mind races. I
can’t remain in a space of no thought for more than a few seconds.”
“That’s a sufficient beginning. I can teach you a technique that will allow you to go into a trance while fully conscious. If you can master this skill, you’ll be able to reset your brain at will. Are you willing to do the work?”
That was a no-brainer. I was nodding vigorously before the words were completely out of her mouth. “Yes. Yes, of course. I’ll do whatever it takes to regain control of my life.”
“Good.” Cerridwyn seemed to relax in relief. “The second part of finding more options comes from the realm of magic.”
“Magic?” I blurted. “You’re not going to tell me I have magical abilities as well, are you?”
She chuckled. “Not at this point, but we’ll come back to that topic in the future. Remember I told you I’ve encountered other humans whose brains have been taken over by strong vampires. Over the years, I began comparing notes with other witches and psychics, asking if they’d ever seen anyone who was able to resist or repair the damage caused by ongoing contact with vampires. Slowly, anecdotal stories began to emerge, tales of mortals who were not mentally enslaved, who somehow managed to remain themselves.”
My mind raced. If she’d learned this much, surely there was hope for me. “Okay, that’s good. So what did they do?”
“In every case, they realized what was happening and sought out a particular magician to cast a spell on them. Apparently there’s a secret vampire library of knowledge—”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. “That’s odd. You’re the second person who’s mentioned that to me. My friend said he was going to research it for me.”
“Alan Stevens?”
“Yes.”
“He has strong feelings for you.” Her voice held gentle amusement.
“No, he doesn’t.” No way. I’m not talking about Alan. “He’s just confused—”
“It sounds like he’s not the only one. But that isn’t important right now. Did he tell you the name of the magician?”
“Yes, something like Zoltar, or Zoloft, no, wait … Zephyr.”
Cerridwyn grinned. “See how the universe is lining up things for you?” She closed her eyes and rocked for a moment. “I see you connecting with this vampire. He will help you. In the meantime, you must work hard at the technique I mentioned. It will seem complicated but is actually quite simple. You’ll learn to hum a certain pitch silently in your mind. Think of it as sound magic. I will communicate it to your unconscious now.”
This sounded like more weirdness. But she knew things—things I hadn’t spoken of to anyone except Devereux. Or Alan. And I had nothing to lose at this point. “How will you do that?”
“I’ll send you a psychic soundtrack of sorts—as if I’m uploading it directly to your deeper consciousness—and I’ll hum a tone out loud. Then we’ll practice. Ready? Okay, close your eyes.”
For a few seconds there was nothing, then I heard several dissonant pitches in my mind. As I listened, Cerridwyn’s voice cut through the chaotic sound, strong enough to force all the other tones to align with hers in multiple octaves.
“Hum the tone silently,” she said.
I spent a couple of seconds wondering how I could hum silently, then I was simply doing it.
“Keep going, and watch what happens.”
I literally felt myself slowing, as if my brain waves shifted from beta all the way to theta. Suddenly my consciousness expanded, and my body rhythm downshifted.
“Open your eyes, and talk to me. Realize that you can remain in this state while functioning normally. Memorize this feeling.”
My eyes eased open. Everything looked sharper. Colors were brighter. “Is this what a drug trip feels like?”
She laughed. “In some cases. Keep talking.”
“So I have to do the imaginary hum any time I’m around a vampire so they won’t take over my brain? How can I hold therapy sessions if I’m humming in my head?”
“Good question. The more you practice, the less effort it will take. The new vibration will become your baseline. This technique allows you to physically transform your own brain from one that’s easy for vampires to manipulate by moving to another frequency that can’t be altered.”
“Sounds great—sign me up.”
“Of course, this won’t keep Lucifer from harming you.”
Shit! At the mention of Lucifer, my heartbeat raced and my breath caught. I was right back in normal beta waves. I blinked and drank more water. “As soon as you mentioned him, I returned to my regular consciousness.”
“Yes, I thought you would. Without closing your eyes, start the mental humming. Become aware of the other tones I seeded into your unconscious. Remember the experience of being in that expanded place. Show yourself you can easily return there.”
It took longer than it should’ve because my mind kept insisting it was necessary to think about Lucifer and what he might do, but I was soon able to imagine humming the note and felt myself changing. “This is amazing. Sound magic?”
“Well, more accurately vibration or frequency magic, but any label will do. You must practice as much as possible, every day. Between this technique and talking to Zephyr, your choices will increase.”
“Will you contact Zephyr? I’ve never heard Devereux talk about him. Does he live in Denver?”
“I doubt he lives in North America, and perhaps not even in current time. You know how some of the old vampires prefer to live in the past, which was a much simpler era for them.” She tapped her fingers against her knee as her eyes took on a glazed look. A minute passed before she blinked and looked at me. “I believe Alan Stevens will arrange for you to speak with Zephyr. You and I can meet again when you return from New York City.”
“How do you know I’m going—? Oops, sorry—forgot who I was talking to for a moment. That sounds good. I look forward to seeing you again. You’ve been wonderful.”
We spent a few minutes haggling over the fee for the session—she didn’t want to take as much as I wanted to give her—and then she walked me to the door.
“Remember, Kismet,” she said, her expression serious, “you must practice. Everything depends on it.”
“I promise.”
We said good-bye. As I drove to my office, I wondered if I’d run my car off the road if I practiced the mental hum while driving.
I didn’t put it to the test.
Chapter 8
The afternoon proved to be highly productive.
I met with several clients, updated case files, filled out required paperwork, returned phone calls, and practiced the hum. It was already becoming easier. I knew my human clients had no physiological effect on my brain—although a few resistant souls often made my head feel like it was going to explode—but I enjoyed practicing my new conscious trance state during their sessions. It was exciting to realize I could be as—or even more—effective functioning from a deeper level of mind.
Since the bleak winter day had been overcast—several inches of snow had fallen in the last twenty-four hours—darkness began creeping in by late afternoon. I checked the clock and arranged chairs in a circle. My Fear of Fangs group members would be popping in soon for our third meeting. I never would’ve suspected so many vampires had biting issues.
Sitting behind my desk, I breathed deeply to prepare myself for the increasing fear level and waited for the participants to arrive. Only four members would be attending. The other two regulars were taking the night off. One of the no-shows, Betty, a former actress and current histrionic bipolar, had called and said she wouldn’t be leaving her coffin this evening due to having difficulty breathing. Apparently being dead wasn’t enough of a clue that breathing was optional. And the other, Medina, a suicidal two-century-old blood-drinker with depression, kept using the same methods she’d used as a human to try to kill herself. She knew none of the familiar approaches would work, but she couldn’t break the pattern. According to her roommate, she’d jumped off
a skyscraper again and would be incapacitated until she healed.
Should I send a get-well card? A regenerate-your-limbs-soon card? My night-walking clients are nothing if not creative.
Chain arrived first. True to his name, he wore chains around his neck, through his belt loops to hold up his baggy blue jeans, wrapped around his biker boots, and encircling his wrists. Tall and thin with long, stringy black hair and dull gray eyes, he was wearing his well-loved Harley jacket. Swaggering over to my desk, he hitched a hip on the corner and said, “Hey, doll. Let the party begin.”
To the casual observer, Chain appeared to be one tough bloodsucker.
Looks can be deceiving.
“Hello, Chain. Remember we talked about you calling me by my professional title? You’re practicing being respectful, right?”
“Sure, doll—I mean, Doctor Knight. Whatever you say.”
“Thanks, Chain. Go ahead and take a chair.”
Lucille silently appeared. “Hello, Doctor Knight. I hope I’m not
late.”
“Hello, Lucille. As usual, you’re right on time. Please find your seat.”
“Well, if it ain’t Mother Superior, come to join the sinners,” Chain said, referring to the fact that Lucille, who usually came to group wearing tight, revealing clothing with big hair, tonight sported a floor-length nun’s habit, complete with veil and a long rose quartz rosary around her neck. Her vivid green eyes sparkled in her pale face. A wisp of brown hair peeked from the white coif on her head. Like many schizophrenics, Lucille experienced religious hallucinations as part of her illness.
“Chain? Is that respectful?” I asked.
He slouched down in his chair, sulking. Chain’s diagnosis was antisocial personality disorder, mediated by extreme anxiety. While he had strong psychopathic tendencies that would normally preclude him from participating in the group, his urges were held in check by his profound fear. He’d told us he liked torturing and killing animals when he was a human child, but after every incident he hid in his closet for hours, terrified, waiting for the ghost of the dead creature to take its revenge.
Blood Therapy (Kismet Knight, Ph.D., Vampire Psychologist) Page 11