ReAwakened

by Ada Adams

  “Thank you,” I repeated again, turning to address the audience. “Thank you all for the love and support you’ve given my father. He rarely shared his feelings, but one thing that he never had trouble voicing was the immense pride he felt towards his people. He loved his job. He loved you.”

  And he loved me.

  The rest of the ceremony flew by. Twitbrook gave a speech that had very little to do with my father and was instead focused on his plan to form a blood union with other vampire leaders across the world; thus extending his presence in European countries. I tuned out most of the schmoozing directed at the presidents and prime ministers in attendance. The more I saw of Twitbrook, the less I liked him. He was definitely a guilty man; even if his only crimes were those of greed and vanity.

  After the ceremony, it was time for the burial. Since my father had been killed in a yacht explosion and his body had never been found, there was nothing to bury. On some level, it was more painful to stand in the small graveyard on the edge of the Scarlet House property, watching an empty coffin ceremoniously sink into the ground. The only sound that could be heard was the metallic grind of the chains as they slowly lowered the casket into the freshly dug earth. The wooden box descended unhurriedly, savoring its last moments under the sun. Every so often the chains seized, giving out a piercing squeal. At last, with a soft thud, the coffin reached its final destination at the bottom of the grave.

  Once the burial was complete, the atmosphere instantly changed. The guests began talking amongst themselves about unrelated topics, some smiling, others even laughing. President Twitbrook announced that music and refreshments were being offered in the grand hall. It was as if everyone around me had gained sudden closure in regard to my father’s passing; as if that empty coffin had somehow buried with it all of their memories.

  “He’ll never be forgotten, Dawn,” Elisa said, as always, surprising me with her ability to read my mind. “You know that, right?”

  I nodded, wondering if that was really true.

  Don’t all those lost to us slowly fade from memory? Especially when one lives for hundreds of years...

  The next morning, I found myself embracing a familiar role as an instructor in the Scarlet House Program for New Vampires. Twitbrook had assigned us to train the students since he and his guards, parading in their full regalia, were busy escorting the foreign dignitaries to the airport. While I wasn’t happy taking orders from him, it did give me a chance to remain on the premises and look for more information about the Born kidnappings. It also allowed me to see my old students, and even better, it was an opportunity for my team to teach. Watching Brooke, Sophie, Hunter, and Seth apply their newly acquired skills as they worked with the kids was heartwarming. Even so, my heart never fully warmed up, as every time I glanced toward my father’s old office window, I expected to see him standing there, watching me train like he used to.

  The team had just settled into their first sword-fighting demonstration, when Elisa rubbed my back with her cool hand. “Come with me. There’s something I want to show you.”

  She led me away from the main building to the far edge of the property, an area I had only visited a handful of times in all my years at the Scarlet House. It had been a sacred place for me as a child as it was the only location outside of his office that my father ever frequented. Whenever he needed to think, he would steal away from the house and journey to the small lily-pad clad pond on the outskirts of the land. I relished the few special occasions when he brought me along and we sat side-by-side as he spoke of his human life or the wars he’d fought in the past. It was only in this place that I’d truly seen my father come to life.

  Elisa held my hand, guiding me to a large willow tree at the water’s edge. Its sagging branches swayed in the wind; a long, wispy one brushed my cheek as I neared. Elisa positioned herself beneath the tree, running her fingers across its thick trunk.

  “Your father planted this tree when your mother passed,” she explained softly. “He said he wanted to honor her life by bringing forth another.”

  “He used to come here to be with her, didn’t he?” I whispered, more in revelation than in question.

  Elisa nodded. “Whenever he missed her, he would spend hours sitting here, talking to the wind.”

  I glanced over at the birch tree next to the willow. Elisa followed my gaze. “That one is Aurora’s,” she said.

  Something lurched in my chest at the mention of her name.

  Aurora.

  My parents’ real daughter.

  The girl who died in 1875.

  The girl whose DNA I was cloned from in 1996.

  The very same girl who had recently started haunting my dreams, preventing me from closing my eyes. Every time I fell asleep, her voice whispered in my ear, her face flooded my vision.

  “I know that burying an empty casket can’t give you peace,” Elisa said softly. “It hasn’t given me any either.”

  That’s when I noticed the plastic pot housing a tiny maple sapling.

  “I thought it would be helpful if we did this together,” Elisa whispered. “It’s not going to give you closure, I know, but—”

  “I have to stop looking for closure.” It was an obvious realization, but it held so much power I could almost feel its physical impact on my mind. “I have to stop looking for closure, because I won’t get it. At least not right now. Maybe never. I get that now.” I ran my hands over the cool grass. “What I do want is to learn to accept what happened,” I told Elisa. “I need to stop thinking that he’s going to come out of the shadows and tell me that there’s been some horrible mistake and he’s actually alive.” I looked over at the small sapling and smiled. “I think that he would be happy to have a maple tree planted in his memory next to my mother’s willow and Aurora’s birch.”

  Elisa nodded. “I think so too.”

  “Thank you,” I told her sincerely. “For everything.”

  Gently removing the seedling from its surrogate pot, I placed it in the hole Elisa had dug. When the plant was securely in the ground, she retreated back toward the house, leaving me to sit in reflection for a long while. With each minute that ticked away, the pain became a little less severe and the tender hole within my heart a little smaller. Even if I sat there for decades, I knew that it would never fully vanish, but I was slowly beginning to feel better. Silently, I vowed to the sapling that I would make peace with the fact that the hurt wouldn’t fade away, while at the same time resolving to not allow it to interfere with my duty as Angel Creek’s guardian.

  My vow came too late.

  By the time I returned to the Scarlet House, all hell had broken loose.

  Bloody pandemonium.

  That was the only way to describe the scene in front of the Scarlet House.

  Human and vampire corpses lay scattered across the front steps of the building. Deep red blood stained the white marble as it trickled from one step to the next, pooling at the landing. A wave of nausea swept over me upon realizing that most of the smaller bodies belonged to my young pupils. People staggered about, some crying, others screaming, all in visible states of shock. And there was nothing I could do. Whatever tragedy had struck, I had missed its climax.

  A cool hand touched my shoulder, causing me to jump. I turned quickly, breathing a sigh of relief as I met Hunter’s green gaze. A deep red gash ran across the top of his right temple, disappearing into his eyebrow.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “There was an attack.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he said, gritting his teeth. His shirt was torn and stained with blood, but I couldn’t tell if it belonged to him or someone else.

  I glanced around. “What about the rest of the team?”

  “They’re okay. Just very shaken.”

  “Elisa?”

  “She’s fine too,” Hunter assured me. His voice took on a sad tone as he continued. “But many didn’t make it. Humans and vampires.” He ran a hand thro
ugh his hair, pulling roughly at the roots. “I’m sorry. We did our best, but we couldn’t save them all—” His voice cracked.

  “What happened? Who attacked? The mutant werewolves?”

  “Not just werewolves. Vampires too. Rogue vamps working with the weres,” Hunter said, groaning. “They killed so many little kids…so many kids, Dawn! They took some of the others.”

  A cold chill enveloped my body. “The Born?”

  Hunter nodded. “I watched them take at least three. They came out of nowhere; it all happened so quickly. We tried our best to hold them off, but there were just too many and not enough guards. Twitbrook and his team just showed up now.”

  “Where is he?” I demanded. Not waiting for an answer, I rushed into the mansion. Hunter following behind, checking on some of the injured as we passed through the house.

  Twitbrook was holed up in his office with Laura and Beth.

  “How could you?” I spat once I’d broken through the guard barrier stationed in front of his door.

  Twitbrook staggered backwards, clearly taken aback from the sheer impact of my voice. “Give us a minute,” he told his family.

  “How could you let this happen?!” I yelled.

  Twitbrook paled. He cleared his throat, then calmly said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Is that so?” I slammed my fist against his desk. “Is that why you fired my father’s guards and hired those incompetent drunks at the front gate?” There was no curbing my rage now. “Or is that because you think they make you look good, you arrogant, useless coward!”

  I lunged towards him. Hunter wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me back.

  “Dawn, stop,” he pleaded. “This isn’t going to solve anything.”

  “The boy is right,” Twitbrook said. “And before you start blaming me for the outcome of this attack, perhaps you should take a look at your team. Aren’t they trained guardians? They’re the ones that should have protected everyone. Instead, they failed miserably. They allowed innocent children to die.”

  It was now my turn to hold Hunter back.

  “You know more than you’re letting on about the abductions!” I shouted. “I can’t believe that you’re not doing anything. You were off on your little publicity parade all day. I don’t even think you care!”

  “For Heaven’s sake, my own daughter is a Born!”

  “Is that why she wasn’t at the training today?” I growled, my mind running a million miles an hour. “Is that what you were doing when I walked in on you yesterday? Ordering your wife to keep her hidden?”

  “As I told you before, I have no patience for childish accusations,” he spat. “I’ve got a country to run and vampires to lead. My people need me.”

  “You’re actually enjoying this, aren’t you?” I moved to stand in front of him, jabbing my finger in his chest. “You’re feeling all high and mighty, while innocent people are suffering at your expense! You’re despicable!”

  Twitbrook grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him. “I’d be very careful who you threaten, Miss Fairchild,” he whispered through clenched teeth. “You never know…that person just might have your life in his hands.” He released me from his grip and brushed off his suit. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have an interview to give.”

  With those final words, he was gone.

  Hunter turned to me, eyes blazing. “The nerve of that bas—” Before he could finish the sentence, his eyes rolled back and he collapsed to the ground.

  I rushed to his side. His shirt was now completely soaked in blood, turning the material an even deeper shade of red. Swallowing hard, I lifted the fabric. Hunter had lied about the extent of his wounds. Deep gashes crisscrossed his chest and abdomen—some caused by knives, others by sharp claws and bullets.

  I dragged him down to the basement infirmary.

  “Please get him some help!” I begged the doctor who had her hands full with a group of injured human children.

  She looked at me, shrugging apologetically. On vampires’ turf, humans came first. If news got out that innocent kids were attacked by vamps and we failed to help them, there would be hell to pay.

  “I need help over here!” I called into the busy infirmary.

  No answer.

  Placing Hunter on the only empty bed, I rummaged through the supply fridge in search of some human blood. Time was running out. He had to feed, and Blood Cola wouldn’t do at a time like this. The fridge was empty, but I struck gold—or rather, some donated o-neg—sifting through one of the coolers nearby. Deep at the bottom of the box, underneath cans of fizzy beverages was one pack of red liquid. Hunter’s salvation. I rushed to the side of his bed, tearing the top of the pouch and forcing the nozzle in his mouth.

  “Drink!” I urged. “Drink, Hunter, please!”

  I had to pour the liquid down his throat. Finally, halfway through the packet, he began to respond.

  “Here, let me.” The doctor who had ignored me earlier appeared next to the bed, pushing past to examine Hunter’s injuries. I watched helplessly as he writhed in pain in response to her touch.

  “Easy!” I warned.

  She shot me an annoyed glare.

  I bit my lip. “Is he going to be okay?”

  “He’s going to be fine. You did the right thing by getting him the blood,” she responded gruffly. “But his injuries are extremely deep. I have to stitch this up to help the healing process.” She pressed one of the wounds closed, eliciting a high-pitched moan from Hunter’s lips.

  “Do you really have to be so rough?” I demanded.

  “I’m efficient. Or would you rather I cuddle your friend and have his guts end up on this bed?” Seeing my alarmed expression, she softened. “Look, I’ll take good care of him. But you can’t hover over me while I work.”

  I hesitated, not wanting to leave Hunter’s side.

  “Come back in an hour,” she ordered. “He’ll be here. I promise.”

  I nodded, moving aside to let the doctor to take over. She lacked bedside manners—that much was clear—but the expert skill with which she treated the human children made me trust in her ability to heal. Relieved that Hunter was going to get the help he needed, I set off to locate the rest of the team and make sure that they were unharmed.

  Finding them huddled near the front gate, I led them over to the courtyard where I gently broke the news about Hunter, assuring them that he was in good hands with the doctor Brooke had lovingly dubbed McMeany.

  “He tried to protect every little kid in this place,” Sophie told me.

  “He used his body as a shield,” Seth added. “He had at least ten kids behind him while he fought five guys at a time.”

  “He was so brave,” Brooke sniffled. “You should have seen him, Dawn.”

  “Let’s not talk about Hunter like he’s no longer with us,” I suggested, trying to forget just how close we’d come to losing him. “Instead, let’s focus on doing some good around here.”

  We spent the next hour helping the injured and surveying the damage. Five Born were missing—two adults and three children. Most were students residing full-time on the Scarlet House premises, but one was a foreigner who hadn’t made it out in time.

  I couldn’t help but think how fortunate we were that the attack hadn’t happened the previous day with all the Born that had been present. Due to their immense strength and speed, as well as the ability to bear children, Born were often viewed as superior beings in many places around the world. These attributes often helped them rise in status, allowing them to become queens, political leaders, or—in backwards countries where the glass ceiling was still present—wives of men in power. We were lucky indeed, though that hardly seemed the appropriate term when reflecting on a massacre.

  Six humans and four Made vampires—many of them children—were also killed. Whoever the attackers were, they were devoid of all mercy.

  “Did you guys see anything that could help us figure out who they are or where they came fr
om?” I asked the group for the umpteenth time.

  Brooke shrugged. “Honestly, I don't even remember what happened. The whole thing was a blur.”

  Seth nodded. “But I'm beyond thankful for all that training. I think that's the only reason I'm still alive.”

  “I-I think I killed one of them,” Sophie said quietly.

  Brooke gave her a sympathetic look. “If I remember correctly, it's because you were protecting a little boy.”

  “You did the best you could,” I told her, then turned to the group. “You all did. I'm very proud of you.”

  Time stood still as we took in the gruesome scene before us. Ten stretchers. Ten dead bodies. Ten innocent lives lost forever. Five more stolen. It was very easy for me to drift to remorsefulness and guilt.

  If only I hadn't been so far away...

  If only I had fought next to my team...

  I needed to stop my thoughts from spiraling out of control before it was too late.

  A brand-new Dawn, I chanted the words of my new mantra.

  There was no use in dwelling on if onlys. If only couldn’t help anyone now. If I was going to be ready for the trouble my future had in store, I had to let go of the past and bravely face the present.

  “Walk me through it one more time,” I pleaded, diverting my attention back to the group. “What happened?”

  “The four of us were hanging out by the fountain, talking to a couple of kids,” Brooke began. “All of a sudden, we were attacked by a gang of these…creatures. Huge, scary werewolves and rogue vamps. But there was something really weird about them.”

  “What do you mean?” I pressed.

  Brooke scrunched up her forehead. “I don’t know. I can’t explain it. They were so beastly, so inhuman. Like, inhuman even for vamps and weres.”

  Sophie nodded. “She’s right. It’s almost like they were…zombies.”

  “Zombies?” I asked in disbelief.