Embraced by the Shadows

by Mayra Calvani

  She tried her best to shut Valeria's voice out of her head. The way Valeria had said I miss her, with her soul filled with longing and grief.

  "The Louvre?” Alana said, referring to the famous museum. Actually, she was suddenly quite tempted to forget everything and escape to another continent. She had been to Paris once, with her uncle. After her mother's death. Her uncle had taken her to the Louvre and showed her the Mona Lisa. She now recalled how, staring at the painting, she had seen, or imagined, fangs growing out of the Mona Lisa's mouth.

  "The Louvre, the Opera, Notre Dame, Eiffel Tower, the Seine, the art galleries. Everything. You and me. We could leave tonight. Flying. We could be there in less than an hour. I own a flat on Rue St. Antoine, close to Notre Dame."

  Alana laughed, but it was a mirthless laugh. “And you call me impulsive?"

  Sadash smiled. “What do you say?"

  "We'll go. After I find out the truth about my mother's death."

  His face changed. “Damn you. I don't know why, but I can smell trouble in the air."

  "I thought the only thing you could smell was blood,” she scoffed. “And as you told me once yourself: I'm already damned, thank you. Don't worry. As the cliché goes, I wouldn't do anything you wouldn't do."

  "That's exactly what I'm afraid of."

  "So.... Someone killed my mother, but whether it was an accident or not, we don't know, that is, if what you're telling me is true."

  He raised his right hand in oath. “I swear."

  "Was it a man or a woman? Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot, you won't tell me."

  "Cut the sarcasm and take another advice: talk to your uncle."

  Uncle Angelo. She thought about him for a minute, with her chin resting on her crossed hands. Yes, Uncle Angelo ... she would call him up, she would talk to him, she would.... Her thoughts halted. “Wait a minute, Sadash,” she said. “Are you implying he knows the truth?"

  "No, he doesn't. But he might give you some ideas."

  She gave a weary sigh. “You really are making this difficult for me. You haven't lied, have you? Everything you have told me is the truth?"

  "Do you really distrust me so much?” he asked, almost sadly.

  "Well, you can't blame me for it. You're so intriguing."

  For a long moment she remained silent, mentally debating, with her eyes fixed on the rich pink color of her drink. All the ice was slowly melting.

  She simply couldn't understand his attitude. Then a disturbing thought sprang into her head. She didn't know where it came from, this thought. It just popped out of nowhere, and somehow shook and convinced the hell of out her. She looked up at him, her eyes blazing like coals.

  "God, you are the Devil,” she slowly said. “You want me to find out the truth, don't you? Yes ... I can see it now. As much as a mother tiger wants its cub to hunt and kill its first prey. You want to see me in action. You love the little hunting games, you told me that once yourself. And you love the moral question of the kill. You want me to go for the hunt and you wonder what I'll do when I find out the truth."

  He didn't answer. But his mouth slowly spread into a half smile.

  "Should I go on?” she said, still struck by her discovery. “You don't really want us to go to Paris. You're using Paris. You know me, and you know your insistence to leave will only make me want to stay more."

  "Why would I ever do that?” he calmly said.

  "You tell me! I thought I was getting to know you, but I don't know you at all."

  "Don't you think it'd be boring, if you knew everything about me?"

  "Then you admit it? What I just said?"

  "I'm not admitting anything. I'm shocked by your accusations. Really, my angel. I'm not the Machiavellan monster you think I am. You wound me. You're cruel in your innocence, and you wound me."

  "Don't call me angel. You can call me fallen angel. Not angel.” She snorted disdainfully, anger and desolation churning inside of her. She loathed him. No, this wasn't true. She wanted to loathe him, but she couldn't. Why couldn't she? Because he was her Maker? Was this the love between Fledgling and Maker that Sadash had told her about, a love that nothing on earth could destroy, a love that was eternal, as eternal as their cursed lives? The idea was wondrous, and at the same time perfectly horrible. Yet it was true. She adored him like a God. Her God. Who in one instant of carnal passion had robbed her of her life, of her soul.

  And yet there he was, the picture of perfect innocence, sitting across from her in his black shirt with full wide sleeves like Zorro's and tight black Levis, looking at her with those amber eyes which irradiated wisdom, love and now even sadness. She wanted to bite him, hurt him, lose herself in the deadly strength of his embrace. He was stronger but she suddenly wanted to overpower him with her preternatural strength, pin him to the floor, and gorge on his neck against his will.

  And she thought: If the Devil exists, he must be as beautiful as you.

  "I don't believe you. Only God knows what you're plotting inside that head of yours. You're a monster—that's what you are. And you've turned me into a monster, and I'll never forgive you for it. You don't love me,” she hissed. She could have said anything right now. She wanted him out of her sight. If her words made sense or not it didn't matter. “You love your daughter, that's who you love. Not me. And I don't need your help. Forget I ever asked you. I don't need you. Okay? You might think I need you. But I don't need you. Believe me, I'd be a lot happier if you weren't around. Feel my hate.” Sharply, she looked away from him. She didn't want to see his reaction, for already she was hurting for him, already she wanted to pull him roughly into her arms and devour the hell out of him.

  Instead she tried to concentrate her attention on Valeria and Humberto.

  They were still talking about her. Drinking wine and talking about her.

  She hasn't even called me. Not even one call.

  She will.

  You don't understand. No one understands. Only I understand.

  Please.

  She was possessed.

  Don't do this. Please.

  I know you don't believe me. But she was possessed.

  Dear God, is that why you put that crucifix around your neck?

  When Alana looked back toward Sadash, he was gone.

  She looked around her. Gone.

  She was startled, and suddenly overcome by a deep sorrowful feeling. What to make of Sadash's reaction? What to make of their whole conversation, for that matter? She was confused and miserable. Had she actually hurt his feelings, or was this simply a calculated move from his part? She didn't know what to think, she honestly didn't know.

  Once again her gaze turned to Valeria and Humberto.

  She looked at them for a long time, more transfixed by the expressive movement of their features than by what they were actually saying. In fact after a minute or two their words became meaningless.

  Then something happened.

  In the middle of her conversation with Humberto, Valeria suddenly turned her eyes straight toward Alana.

  Their eyes drilled each other from across the room.

  Of course, this is what Alana had wanted. Deeply satisfied by Valeria's expression of astonishment, Alana stood up and walked in the direction of their table.

  Valeria and Humberto stared at her, surprised.

  "Well, no hello for an old musketeer?” Alana said, standing in front of them.

  Humberto immediately stood up to give her a kiss and a hug, but Valeria remained on her chair.

  "Are you alone?” Humberto said, pulling away from her embrace.

  "I'm everything you want me to be,” Alana teased, her eyes on Valeria.

  "Then please come and sit with us for a while,” Humberto said. “We've been worried like hell about you."

  "Are you sure Valeria wants me to sit down?"

  Valeria was still silent, staring up at her with steady eyes.

  "Don't be ridiculous. Of course she does,” Humberto said, pushing Alana down onto the chair a
nd sitting next to her. “Your ... er ... boyfriend ... he's not here?"

  Alana could feel his hesitation, his apprehension and love.

  "No.” Alana said. “Disappointed?"

  "Actually, I am. I was hoping to meet him,” Humberto said.

  At last Valeria spoke. “Don't get your hopes too high. He doesn't want us to meet him,” she said.

  "Good ... I was starting to think someone cut off your tongue,” Alana said. “But to go back to your comment, what an extraordinary thing to say! Why wouldn't he want you to meet him?"

  "Well, where is he, then?” Valeria said. “Why has he taken you away?"

  "No one has taken me away,” Alana said.

  "Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Humberto said. “Let's keep the conversation calm and under control. Alana, we don't have to pretend with you. We have been very worried about you. We don't understand what has happened. You told Valeria you had decided to move in with that guy. But you never call us, you never gave us a number or an address where we could reach you, you never took any of your belongings with you. You have to admit your behavior has been very strange, if not to say totally selfish.” He pointed towards Valeria. “This girl here has hardly had a good night's sleep since you left. I don't know, Alana. I don't know what else to tell you. What's going on?"

  "I'm sorry,” Alana said, not knowing what else to say. Sadash had been right. It was better, it was a lot easier to keep away from them, from all the people she loved.

  "That's not enough, Alana. We want an explanation. We know you, and that's why we feel there's something you're not telling us,” he said.

  "You can see by yourselves there's nothing wrong with me,” Alana said. “Have I been hurt? Do I look sad, or scared? No, right? Then why don't you just take my word for it? Hell, I didn't come here to argue. I only wanted to talk to you, to ask how you were doing. But it seems I keep making the same mistake again and again. I shouldn't have come.” She was about to rise, but Valeria clutched her wrist and stopped her.

  "X-Net doesn't exist,” Valeria said.

  "What?"

  "X-Net. The company Sadash told you about. It doesn't exist."

  Alana jerked her hand free, and looked at Humberto.

  "It's true, Alana. We had it checked. There's no X-Net anywhere in the States. He lied to you,” Humberto said.

  For a moment Alana stared at them. She felt like bursting out laughing, but their expressions were so earnest, so concerned that it made her stop. God, how she wanted to impale their necks and feed off them! The desire to feed off them right then and there was so keen she suddenly felt dizzy.

  "Have you ever stopped to think that maybe I was the one who created this lie?” Alana said. She had to get out of there. She was hungry. She had fed before coming here, but she was hungry again.

  "Why would you do that?” Humberto said.

  Alana laughed. “You tell me. You're the detectives."

  Humberto reached for Alana's hand. “Are you protecting him? Is he involved in something illegal? Please, Alana. You can tell us. You can trust us, you know that. The only thing we want is to understand. To know the truth. Then we won't interfere. We'll accept it, I promise you.” Before releasing her hand he gave it a loving little squeeze. His hand was hot, hot with his blood, a blood that was hot and young and strong and precious. But most important, a blood that was his and not anybody else's.

  Dangerous. Keep away from them.

  Alana looked at Valeria, at the golden crucifix around her neck.

  "I thought you didn't believe in Jesus,” Alana said. She caught a vision of the Pirate giving Valeria a small box wrapped in shiny red paper.

  Valeria shrugged, a bit embarrassed, clutching the crucifix with her fingers. “A gift. Miguel gave it to me,” she said.

  "You haven't answered me,” Humberto told Alana.

  But Alana was mesmerized by the crucifix, by the way it sparkled against Valeria's creamy neck under the reddish lights.

  Alana said, “It's true. I didn't want to tell you. I wanted to protect you. But it's true. He's a drug dealer. Powerful and dangerous. And that's why I don't want you to see him, meet him, have anything to do with him. And this is all I can tell you. Please don't ask me anything else. Because I can't say anymore. And I won't."

  Humberto looked at her as if he wasn't sure whether to believe her or not.

  Alana began to nod her head and drum her fingers to the beat of the music—Coolio's “Gansta's Paradise."

  "I don't believe a word of it,” Valeria said.

  "It explains many things, Valeria,” Humberto said. Then he added sarcastically, “It's a lot more probable than your possession theory."

  Alana smiled to herself. Possession theory. How ridiculous and cute. Though it was closer to the truth than anything else. The fact that Valeria, pragmatic, down-to-earth Valeria, could think up something like this only made Alana love her more, want her more.

  "Possession theory?” Alana said.

  "She thinks you might be involved in some sort of cult or something,” Humberto said, slightly embarrassed. “An evil cult. And that your boyfriend is either the leader or a member of the cult."

  "I don't believe that,” Valeria protested. “I just ... it just crossed my mind, that's all."

  I'm hungry, I'm hungry, I'm hungry. I have to get out of here.

  "Possessed? Me?” Alana said. “What do you mean, Valeria? Like when I was in secondary school and pretended to be possessed to frighten the other girls? But if I were truly possessed I couldn't do this, could I?” And in a suddenly impulsive gesture she reached for Valeria's gold chain and opened its lock. Then she put it around her own neck. Valeria didn't object, as if entranced by what Alana would do next.

  Alana lifted the crucifix to her lips and kissed it, then let it fall back against her neck. She made the Sign of the Cross. “I want it,” she honestly said. “I want to keep it. Can you give it to me?"

  "Yes...” Valeria said after a moment.

  Humberto watched Alana, silent.

  But Alana could feel their bafflement. Now, no matter what she told them, they would never believe her. She, who had always been scornful of religion and hated religious symbols, had actually put a crucifix around her neck and kissed it. But it wasn't the action in itself, it was the sincerity behind it what had baffled them.

  Indeed, Alana herself was baffled, and suddenly embarrassed. But this wasn't the perfect moment to brood about the contradictory mess of her beliefs. She rose to leave, her hand on the crucifix.

  "I have to go,” Alana said.

  "Alana, wait.” Humberto said, also rising. He glanced at Valeria, then back at Alana, doubtful. “How ... when will we see you again?"

  "I don't know."

  "Please.... My father is giving a party on Friday night. At home. It'd make me very happy to see you there. He—Sadash—can come, if you wish.” And before Alana could stop him, he kissed her lips softly, tenderly, a brother's kiss.

  A brother's kiss that struck her numb with desire.

  She pushed him rudely away. “Yes, maybe,” she muttered. She looked down at Valeria, who remained seated as lovely and as cruel as an Egyptian statue, and tried to scan her thoughts.

  What Alana saw in Valeria's mind left her dumbfounded.

  Impossible!

  But already her fangs were elongating and she knew she wouldn't be able to repress them. She had to get out of here! She turned to go, almost running past the waiters and tables, still hearing their voices behind her:

  ...Did you notice how cold she was?

  When I touched her hand, I didn't think anything about it, but when I kissed her ... her lips were freezing. But that doesn't mean anything.

  The hell it doesn't! What about her face? Didn't you notice her face—the color?

  It looked like wax, it was shimmering.

  I didn't notice that.

  Alana continued hurriedly past the bar and out of the club, her head down, her mouth tightly closed, her
long hair like a red veil over her cheek so no one would see her.

  And in her mind only one image blazed like a pyre against darkness: her mother Laura, writhing in bed under the dark body of a man Alana had instantly recognized.

  CHAPTER 12

  Sadash wasn't in the study when Alana came back to the house. In fact, he was nowhere in the house.

  In total darkness she sank into the sofa, leaned forward, and buried her face in her hands. The blood of the junkie she had just killed still tingled in her throat, making her warm all over. She had imagined the junkie to be Valeria and Humberto. Two of them in one body. This was hopeless. She was a killer, and with every passing day she was becoming better and better at being a killer.

  Valeria...

  Had it been true, what she had seen in Valeria's mind? Her mother and that man? She would have never, never suspected it. Not in a hundred years. And how did Valeria know? If the image was embedded in Valeria's mind it meant she had actually seen them.

  Seen them but never told Alana a word.

  But when? How?

  How to act now? What to do? And Sadash ... In spite of what had happened, she wished he were here now. Maybe she had been too harsh, maybe she had truly hurt his feelings. Damn it, it was all a little hunting game for him—this is what had angered her. But did it matter so much, really, if it was all a game for him? That's just the way he was, that was his nature. Yes, yes, she had overreacted, childishly, foolishly. On the other hand, maybe she had been right, and she was only trying to excuse him, maybe her love for him blinded her.

  But what if ... what if a deeper, darker motive was the root of his intriguing behavior?

  She sighed. She really didn't know what to think. But she knew what she felt. Her heart ached for him, her soul—if she had any—ached for him, and she wished he were here now.

  Where are you, you devil with no last name? Come here ... I love you.

  Now there was one more reason to see Valeria again. To confront her.

  She leaned back against the sofa, trying to recall all those times when she had actually talked with her mother, which were few. Of course, what caused her great pain was not the fact that her mother had had a lover, but that she hadn't been close enough to her to ever know. How long had it been going on? Days? Months? Years? Had there been more than one lover in her life? Dear God, she was in total ignorance! Sadash had been right.