ReVamped

“It was in the moment that I hit the ground, as she watched me nearly bleed to death, that she realized just how far gone she was,” he said, quietly adding, “She attempted to take her own life.”

  “Oh, Ethan.” Even though I felt nothing but distaste for Amelia’s actions, Ethan’s story pained me. She was his mother, after all. No matter how hard he tried to deny it, it was clear that he cared for her deeply.

  “It’s okay,” Ethan assured me. “I managed to stop her before she could hurt herself. But, needless to say, she had to atone for her actions.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I placed her in a facility. It’s a very good clinic that one of her old professors runs. She will be safe from harming herself there, but she will also be carefully monitored. She won’t be able to hurt anyone else,” Ethan said. “Especially not you.”

  My chest tightened. I couldn’t imagine the vast amount of courage and strength it took for Ethan to commit his own mother. He looked at me, and, as if understanding my thoughts, said, “Don’t worry. She went willingly. After all these years of fighting to accomplish so much, and of constantly being disappointed, she was ready to get away from it all. She needed some peace and quiet. I’m not sure what the future holds for her, but I’m hopeful that she will eventually get better.”

  I hoped so too, for Ethan’s sake. He had been abandoned by his father, and now, he had lost his mother too. He was completely alone.

  Kind of like me, my thoughts fluttered briefly to my own father. Suddenly, I remembered what he had told me about his past with Amelia. If she had been responsible for my creation, then Viktor seeking her out was not an accident, but rather a very deliberate act on his part. All along, he had wanted to get to me. I shuddered, remembering his wicked face, his evil laugh. What was even worse, he was still out there, most likely plotting his next step.

  “Does your mom know where Viktor is?” I asked. I was silently hoping that he would say yes, but I already knew the answer.

  Ethan shook his head. “No one knows. Not that any of us went after him in the first place. Your father’s only goal was to make sure you survived. His guards helped Brooke and Sophie deal with the rogue vamps outside the building, while Sebastian and Hunter had rushed to my aid when they heard the gunshot. By the time we all arrived to the basement, you were unconscious and Viktor had slipped out from under our noses,” he said, hitting his uninjured hand against the couch cushion. “Why did my mom ever agree to work with that creep?”

  I resolved to hold off on telling Ethan about his mother’s role in my birth. He seemed to be completely oblivious to both Amelia’s cloning work and Viktor’s connection to me—the team probably hadn’t had a chance to speak with him since the incident—and I wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. I knew that he would find out eventually, but just the thought of, one day, having to bring up the topic made my stomach churn.

  What would I even say? I wondered glumly. So, Ethan, Viktor is actually my crazy uncle that I never knew existed. Instead of a sappy family reunion, he wants to kill me just like he killed my father’s real daughter back in 1875. Oh, that’s the girl that I was cloned from. I never mentioned that I was cloned? Don’t worry, it was news to me too! And just in case you didn’t have enough drama to deal with…guess what? Your mother did the cloning. Surprise!

  Instead, I changed the subject to Hannah. There were still many things I was trying to understand in regard to her role in the incident.

  “I think I finally have a clear picture of what happened that day at Dixie Pharmaceuticals. What I really want to know about is Hannah.” I said, my skin crawling at the memory of the poisonous syringe. “What happened to her?” I asked.

  “Well, we rescued her from the basement and took her home. She was in shock, kept muttering that you getting hurt was all her fault.”

  I was suddenly hit with the realization that I had been the only one who had witnessed Hannah’s treachery. Everyone else must have assumed that Viktor had both poisoned and shot me, and that Hannah was simply an innocent bystander—a victim.

  “A day later, after I dropped my mom off at the clinic and ensured that you were well on your way to recovery, I visited Hannah’s place. It was deserted. I have no idea where she and her family went, or why they disappeared, but she left this behind.” Ethan handed me a white envelope with my name on it. The soft, small writing on it belonged to Hannah.

  “I didn’t open it,” he assured me. “I wanted to respect your privacy. Although, I can’t say I wasn’t curious.”

  I tore open the envelope, pulling out a sheet of paper from the inside. On it, in neat cursive writing was Hannah’s letter of apology.

  Dear Dawn,

  I just spoke to Sophie and she told me that you’re going to make a full recovery. I’m so relieved to hear the good news!

  I can’t tell you how sorry I am about everything that happened. When I was being held hostage I was told that if I cooperated and injected you with the vampire blood, the doctor lady would cure my mom’s illness. Of course, I refused the offer. I never—in a million years—wanted to hurt you. I told them that I didn’t need their help, that my mom and I would get through her illness without harming my friend. The scary, burned vampire then stepped in and threatened me. He said that if I refused to do what he asked, he would not only make sure to destroy you and me, but also kill my mother and little sister.

  I know that this explanation doesn’t excuse what I did, but please know that I live each and every day in regret of my horrible actions. When I made the choice to betray your trust, I felt as if I was doing the right thing. Now, I know that I was simply a coward who hurt one of my best friends. For that, I’m so very sorry.

  I need to get away from Angel Creek for a while. I’m taking my mom, sister and Daisy out of the country for the next couple of months. I heard that a young vampire doctor in Canada is working on an experimental treatment for my mom’s illness. I’ve taken out all my savings and will head up there to try and get her into the program.

  I will get in touch soon. I hope that you’ll be ready and willing to talk to me.

  So very sorry,

  Hannah

  As I finished reading, Ethan looked at me expectantly. Too stunned to rehash the letter, I simply handed him the piece of paper. When he was done, he looked over at me pitifully. “It seems that we both have failed you,” he said quietly, his full lips tightening into a tight line.

  He was right; they had, I thought. I was hurt, but at least I could understand his and Hannah’s motives. I could forgive their mistakes. What I couldn’t comprehend—what I couldn’t forgive—was my father’s betrayal. Just thinking about it again brought fresh tears to my eyes.

  “I need to be alone for a while,” I said abruptly. I was about to shatter, and I couldn’t bear to have Ethan witness my breakdown.

  He mistook my tense words as being intended for him. “Oh, Dawn. I promise to spend the rest of my life making this up to you! Whatever it takes for you to forgive me, I’ll do it,” he said, rushing over to me. His voice was frantic; his eyes darted around in panic.

  I gently wrapped one of my arms around his uninjured shoulder. “I’ve already forgiven you Ethan,” I said, giving him a sincere smile. “How could I not? You took an arrow for me, you healed me with your blood, and you got shot at by your own mother because of me. I think we’re even.”

  He exhaled, relaxing a little.

  “Plus, I understand that you and Hannah thought you were doing the right thing at the time,” I added.

  “Still, I’m going to make sure this never happens again. From now on, just the truth. Always,” he promised, patting my arm with his large hand.

  We stared at each other for a moment, drained and exhausted from the heavy subject matter, but contented by the outcome of the talk.

  Ethan broke the gaze, looking with alarm at his watch. “It’s almost six thirty! I gotta get to the diner for my evening shift.” He paused, looking over at me. “U
nless you need me to stay?” he asked, looking slightly hopeful.

  “I’ll be fine, thank you. Go to work.”

  “Okay, but call if you need anything. Like I said earlier, for the rest of my life, I’m forever under your command,” Ethan promised.

  “You’re still working at the diner?” I asked, quickly changing the topic. “Aren’t you going to go back to Ashton now that your assignment is over?”

  “I’ve actually decided to stay here for a bit,” Ethan said. “Angel Creek has kind of put a spell on me. Or rather, one of its current inhabitants has.” He looked at me, the trademark playful smirk returning to his handsome face.

  After bidding Ethan goodbye, I found myself alone in the empty cottage for the first time all day. I closed my eyes, reclining against the rough wood of the front door in an attempt to bask in my solitude.

  But something was different. My sharp hearing, easily privy to every sound around me, was suddenly picking up on noises I had managed to ignore all week. The rhythmic tick-tock of the dilapidated cuckoo clock hanging above the dining room table, the mechanical hum of the fridge, even the slight buzz of one of the dying light bulbs in the living room chandelier did not escape me. The paramount value of my friends’ company began to dawn on me.

  I needed them around, I realized. Partly because I enjoyed their presence, but even more importantly because, around them, I felt like myself. Purposeful. Strong.

  Not a clone.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The shrill ring of my cell phone interrupted my train of thought. I jumped, startled by the unexpected sound.

  Father, the caller ID simply read.

  I hovered my index finger over the green Answer button, then forcefully clicked Decline. The phone fell silent. After a moment, it began to ring again. My father had been calling every day since my abrupt departure from the headquarters. I never picked up, and he never left a message. I knew he wouldn’t. He invariably preferred to speak in person, and what we had to discuss was much too important to be relayed over an answering machine. The phone continued ringing as I threw the small device across the room. It landed on one of the worn living room couches with a soft thud.

  I followed its path, diving onto the couch and burying my head deep into the soft, leather cushions. I wanted nothing more than to speak to my father, to hear his voice and be convinced that everything would somehow be alright, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer the phone. I couldn’t get thoughts of Aurora out of my head. She was my father’s real daughter, after all. She was the one he wanted when he set out to create me. I switched off the power on the phone.

  My throat felt dry, my brain pounded against my skull. Blindly, I reached out to the table, fumbling with the numerous cups and glasses, desperate for something to drink.

  It was only after the bitter liquid slid down my throat, that I realized that I had gulped down all of Brooke’s Blood Vodka.

  I coughed, but the maneuver only sent the powerful substance deeper into my body. Never having been one to indulge in alcoholic beverages, my current predicament caused a lot of uneasiness. While I had no doubt that my body was strong enough to withstand whatever consequence a glass of the vile substance had in store for me, I was certain that, at this moment, my mind was not.

  For a long time, nothing out of the ordinary happened. I relaxed, allowing myself to calmly assess the situation. I’m okay, I sighed cheerfully. But then, my body began to overflow with fervent, uncontainable energy. The cottage was suddenly too small and too stuffy to contain me. I needed to get out; I needed to breathe in fresh air.

  A leisurely stroll through the dim forest led me to Sebastian’s home. I laughed out loud, realizing that for the second time since my arrival in Angel Creek, my aimless trek had ended at his door. None of the lights inside the spacious dwelling were on. Nevertheless, I rapped my knuckles against the wooden door. Receiving no answer, I knocked again, this time louder. Still nothing.

  “Sebaaaastian! Where are you?” I called out, giggling at the sound of my own voice. It was peculiarly high-pitched, uncharacteristically needy. I pouted when that attempt also garnered no response. I pressed my ear against the front door, listening for movement inside.

  All quiet.

  Upon ensuring that Sebastian wasn’t home, I set out for the town. Finding him suddenly became my primary goal and I had one more place to investigate—the gazebo. The walk up Main Street proved to be laborious, as my usually superb sense of balance was negatively influenced by the combination of alcohol and Brooke’s strappy sandals. Finally, just as I was about to resort to crawling, the towers of the inn came into view.

  Sebastian sat on one of the benches inside the moonlit gazebo, bright white light reflecting off his long, dark curls. His eyes were shut, but when he heard my rambunctious footsteps, he immediately snapped them open.

  “Dawn!” he exclaimed, standing up to greet me.

  “Hi!” I responded excitedly, throwing my arms around his neck. The bold gesture caught him by surprise, causing him to lose his balance and stumble backwards. Limbs intertwined, we collapsed on the gazebo floor, him looking perplexed, and me bursting into a fit of giggles.

  “Dawn?” He glanced at me questioningly. “Are you okay?”

  I clamped my hand over my mouth in an attempt to stifle my laughter, then dropped it in my lap and continued to giggle loudly. My joyful mood was provoked by an artificial cause, but, regardless, it felt good to smile.

  “I’m great!” I said, standing up. “Don’t I look great?” I spun around, the fabric of Brooke’s lavender dress swishing all around me.

  Sebastian sat on the floor, watching me quietly, a stunned expression across his handsome face.

  “Well?” I questioned a little hurt.

  “Uhh, yes. Of course,” he responded distractedly, not taking his gaze off my face. He was studying me intensely, his pale eyes full of genuine concern. He rose off the floor, moving his face closer to mine.

  He’s about to kiss me, I thought breathlessly, closing my eyes and raising my lips up to meet his.

  Nothing happened.

  I waited a little longer, then slowly fluttered open my eyelids. Sebastian was now standing further away, his arms crossed, his dark brows furrowed. I quickly straightened up, hoping that—by some miracle—he had failed to perceive my deluded, misguided expectation. If he had noticed it, he didn’t let on.

  “Dawn, have you been drinking?” he asked instead.

  “Accidentally,” I responded sheepishly. “Brooke’s fault.”

  He gaped at me, his expression a mix of amusement and disbelief.

  “It really was an accident!” I snapped.

  “I believe you,” he said, raising his hands defensively. His voice was sincere, but the laughter in his eyes provoked me.

  I briskly moved toward him and poked his chest with my finger. “Then act like it.”

  My little outburst caused the amusement in Sebastian’s eyes to spill over to his entire face. “Finally decided to come out of hiding, huh?” he asked, a striking smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “What brings you here?”

  “I was…” I trailed of, searching for the right words.

  What was I doing? Looking for him? Why? Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that, though I wouldn’t let them in, Brooke, Sophie, Hunter and Seth had made sure to visit the cottage every day over the past week. Even Ethan showed up. They had wanted to be with me during my darkest hours. Sebastian, on the other hand, had not.

  “Why do you care?” I retorted, suddenly feeling very irritable. If he really cared, he would have come by.

  Sebastian looked down at me tenderly, startled by my harsh words. In that moment, I abruptly recalled seeing the familiar, tall shape, lurking around the woods by the cottage—every morning and every evening.

  “You really have to stop spying on me like that!” I gasped, alarmed at the thought of what he may have witnessed. At the same time, I couldn’t help but feel slightly relie
ved—even pleased.

  Sebastian shrugged, running his long fingers through his hair. “I knew you that wanted to be alone, but I still felt an urge to hang around and ensure that you were safe,” he explained. “Viktor is still out there somewhere.”

  "Well, as you can see," I said, opening my arms wide and gesturing over the length of my entire body, "I’m safe."

  "And drunk," he teased huskily.

  "Thanks for reminding me," I grumbled. I had surpassed the pinnacle of my inebriated euphoria and was now feeling the negative side-effects of the alcohol. All at once. The pounding head, the churning stomach, dizziness.

  "How did this happen, anyway?" Sebastian asked curiously.

  Trying to stay alert, I focused with all my attention on his vivid eyes. "I guess the usual way people get drunk,” I groaned. “My father called. I didn’t want to pick up. I began to feel faint and needed a drink. I just didn’t think that that particular drink would be laced with a mind-altering substance. Hence the reason I’m now a stumbling, slurring cliché.”

  "You haven’t spoken with your father yet?"

  "No, and I don't plan to," I retorted sinking onto the wooden bench.

  Sebastian sat down beside me, tenderly touching my arm. His fingers lingered on my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. I felt lightheaded, but, this time, it had nothing to do with the Blood Vodka.

  "Look, Dawn,” he paused, carefully considering his words. “I know that you’ve been through a lot recently, but you may want to consider ending this grudge you’re harboring toward your father,” he said, gazing longingly toward the inn. “Take it from someone who can never talk to his family again."

  I followed Sebastian’s gaze, my eyes settling on the plaque next to the inn. I was not yet able to forgive my father for his actions, but I couldn’t imagine not hearing his voice ever again. Despite my unconventional, controversial creation, I had become the vampire—and the girl—I was today all because of him. It was thanks to my father’s care and upbringing that I hadn’t turned out like Aurora, I thought. I was stronger, more resourceful and self-reliant.