Dark Moon (14 page)

When I woke up, I
was still on Michael’s couch with my head on his lap. I turned slightly to look
at him. Michael’s head was resting in his palm, his elbow propped up by the
armrest.

He stirred when I
moved. “Hey,” he said sleepily, running his fingers through my hair.

“What time is it?”
I asked, struggling to sit up.

“No idea. You fell
asleep on the couch and I didn’t want to wake you so I decided to stay out here
with you. I was so worried about you, Lana. You – you weren’t yourself
last night. How are you feeling today?”

“I’m okay,” I said
slowly. The back of my head was throbbing. Even though I’d thrown up all of the
alcohol, I was majorly hung-over. “I wasn’t feeling that well last night,” I
said in a rush, before Michael could speak. “But today I feel much better.” I
wasn’t sure if I sounded convincing or not, but it was the best that I could
muster.

Michael glanced at
his phone. “It’s still early. Want to go to bed for awhile?” I recognized that
look. It was Michael’s way of saying he wanted to fuck me.

My mind was
racing, but maybe it was the distraction I needed. “Let me freshen up first,” I
said, heading to the bathroom.

I hadn’t brushed
my teeth since puking my guts out. I must have stood there, scrubbing out my
mouth, for at least five minutes. Then I washed my face and twisted my hair
back into a loosely knotted ponytail.

I studied myself
in the mirror. I looked gaunt, frail. But there was something in my eyes that I
hadn’t seen last night. Last night I had been defeated. Today, I was
determined.

I wasn’t going to
let Damon Winters get the best of me, no matter what. I was still in my shorts
and t-shirt from last night. Impulsively, I stripped down to my bra and
panties. Michael could take off the rest.

When I came out of
the bathroom, Michael was already in bed, his eyes half-closed. He perked up
when he saw me and reached out to pull me into his arms.

“Hey, sexy,” he
whispered, his hands already down my panties.

We were
interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He paused. “Shit, that’s my work
blackberry.” With an apologetic look, Michael got up to answer it.

He came back a few
minutes later, a serious expression on his face. “The hospital called to tell
me that one of my patients was admitted today.” He shook his head. “She’s only
twenty-five.” Michael sat down on the bed and took my hand in his.

“Maybe she’ll be
okay?” I suggested.

“She hasn’t been
okay for a long time. Her abdomen has been filling up with fluid; that’s
usually the beginning of the end, the point of no return. We can remove the
fluid to make the patient more comfortable, but it’s just a temporary measure.”

“That’s awful,” I
whispered.

Michael sighed. “I
never get used to losing a patient. Most of the oncologists don’t make hospital
visits on the weekend, but I feel like it’s the least I can do.” He got up from
the bed. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Then we can finish what we
started.”

I was overcome
with guilt about everything I was keeping from Michael. There was no way I
could sit in his apartment. I needed a break, to be alone, in my own space.

“Unfortunately, I
absolutely have to do some work today. I’ll try to come back later, though,” I
hedged.

“Please do.”
Michael leaned over to kiss me. “I’ll see you soon, babe.”

After he left I
gathered my stuff and headed back to my dorm.

Maryanne wasn’t
there.
Good.
I hated the thought that she was with Damon, but I couldn’t
keep pretending everything was okay. I had to try and think this situation
through. Find out what Damon wanted and make him leave.

I sat down in
Maryanne’s swivel chair and rotated back and forth. But I was still hung-over
and the motion was making me nauseous, so I got up and climbed into bed.

How the hell was I
going to get in touch with Damon? I couldn’t very well ask Maryanne for his
number. And for all I knew, he might keep his intentions secret indefinitely, relishing
watching me squirm during awkward double dates.

But it turned out
I wasn’t going to have to wonder for very long. I jumped at the knock on the
door. No one ever knocked on our door. We didn’t even have a peephole. I slowly
climbed out of bed. “Who’s there?” I called.

“Lana, it’s Damon.
I need to talk to you.”

I pulled open the
door before I could really consider if that was such a good idea. Damon was
standing there, hands in his pockets, a faint smile on his face.

I crossed my arms
in front of my chest. “What do you want?” I hissed.

“Can’t I come in?”

“No,” I said
angrily.

“Okay, you really
want to have this conversation in the hall? Someone might walk by, get the
wrong idea.” Damon smirked.

I stepped back and
ushered him inside the room, slamming the door behind him. “Where’s Maryanne?”
I demanded.

“At the gym.”
Damon sat down on my bed. I bristled.

“Aren’t you even
going to ask me why I’m here?” he said when I didn’t speak. “That look on your
face last night. It was priceless. But I never pegged you as much of a drinker.
You were always such a goody-two-shoes. You wouldn’t even taste beer when we
were teenagers.”

I knew what Damon
was referring to. I should have realized what a bastard he was then. Some kid
had stolen beer from his parents and given Damon a couple of cans. We were
kissing behind the bleachers after school and he kept pressuring me to try
some.
Probably so he could get me to have sex with him.

“Surely you’re not
here to reminisce about the past,” I said.

“Yes and no,” he
replied.

“Will you stop
being so cryptic?” I snapped. “When did you find out I was Maryanne’s roommate?
Why did you pretend it was the first time we’d ever met?”

“Why did you?”
Damon shot back.

“I was caught off
guard. And the last time I saw you…things didn’t go so well. I didn’t know what
to say, so I said nothing.” It was the truth.

“You know,” Damon
said, “for the longest time I wondered how you had the brute strength to fuck
me up so bad. I had a concussion.”

“I know that,” I
said, an edge to my voice. “But you wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Damon’s eyes
flashed angrily. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Now it was my turn
to get angry. “Kidding you?” I spat out. “You were going to rape me!”

“Is that really
how you remember it?” Damon asked me.

I looked away and
didn’t answer.

“Because the way I
remember it,” he continued, “you told me you wanted to have sex with me one
minute, and the next minute you were beating the shit out of me. All these
years I’ve spent trying to understand how that was possible.”

“Fear and
adrenaline, I imagine,” I said defiantly.

“I’m surprised
your parents didn’t tell you I came by,” Damon remarked, changing the subject.
He was running his hand over my bedspread, his fingers tugging at a loose
string.

“When did you see
my parents?” I demanded.

“They were very
cagey about disclosing your location,” he commented, not answering my question.
“Your mom said she’d pass along my number to you. I guess you don’t talk to
mommy dearest that often, huh?”

All those missed
calls from my mom. The voicemails I’d never bothered to listen to. I could have
known this was coming, could have at least been prepared instead of completely
blindsided.

“What do you
want?” I asked wearily. Damon had tracked me down, and there had to be a
reason.

“I want you back,”
he said simply.

“What?” That was
the last thing I’d expected him to say.

“You heard me.”

“But what about
Maryanne?” I said.

“Oh, Maryanne’s a
nice girl. A good
fuck
.” He laughed. “And she worships the ground I walk
on, if you didn’t notice.”

I had noticed, but
refused to admit it. “I have a boyfriend,” I said flatly. “You need to leave.
Break it off with Maryanne. Go crawl back into whatever hole you came out of
it.”

“Sure, I’ll
leave,” he agreed. “As long as you come with me.”

“And
why
would I do that? What warped memory are you clinging onto? We were fifteen,
Damon. I’ve moved on and you need to do the same.” My voice was shaking.

“Afraid it’s not
quite so simple,” Damon replied.

I knew it was a
bad idea to make him mad, but I couldn’t stop myself. “I see nothing’s
changed,” I said in a nasty voice. “You still can’t take no for an answer.”

But to my
surprise, Damon just laughed. “You will be with me,” he said confidently. “And
you want to know why?”

I gave him a stony
look and remained silent.

“You’ll be with
me, because I know who you are,
what
you are.”

My heart was
racing. He was bluffing. He had to be. Only four people in the world knew my
secret. My parents, me, and Jack.

“I don’t know what
you’re talking about,” I said evenly.

“Don’t play dumb,
Lana. I saw the video. I know
everything
.”

It was two weeks after
my eighteenth birthday. I sat looking at my parents, thinking of the worst
possible thing they could say. They weren’t going to be able to pay for my
college tuition after all? One of them had some incurable disease and merely
weeks left to live?

“Lana,” my dad
said, glancing at my mother. “I’m not sure how to tell you this, so I’ll just
say it. You’re not our biological daughter.”

“You mean I’m
adopted?” I asked, a wave of relief washing over me.
Is that all?
I
suppose I should have been more upset, but it made sense. I looked nothing like
either of my parents. And they were so much older than the parents of most of
the other kids my age. They must have realized they couldn’t have children and
decided to adopt one later in life.

“Not exactly,” my
dad replied. Mom was looking down at her hands, wringing them together.

“Huh? I’m either
adopted or I’m not. I don’t see how there can be any gray area here.” I gave a
nervous laugh.

Finally, my mother
looked up at me. “You’re only half human,” she blurted out.

I started laughing
again, but this time for real. Was my mother on drugs?

“It’s not funny,”
my dad said. “We thought about never telling you. But you deserve to know the
truth about yourself.”

Okay, so my dad
must be on drugs, too. Or maybe they were both going senile at an early age.
They sounded like insane people.

“Your godfather
brought you to us, when you were just an infant,” Dad continued. “I knew Jack
worked for the government, but I never asked him any specifics about his job.
It was top secret.”

“At the time, your
father was still with the police force,” my mom interjected.

“Jack called me
and told me he needed to see your mother and me right away,” Dad said. “He
showed up at the door with a baby carrier, and you were in it. It was then that
Jack told me the truth about his job.”

Dad paused before
continuing, carefully measuring his next words. “He was part of a division, one
that…handles supernatural concerns.”

“Supernatural
concerns?” I echoed. I scrunched up my face in confusion.

“We were as
incredulous as you, at first,” my mom said.

“His division was
responsible for keeping track of the non-humans, making sure the rest of the
world remained ignorant to what else was out there.”

“Just listen to
yourself!” I cut my dad off. “Jack’s the most down-to-earth person I know. This
is complete bullshit. Crazy talk.”

“I knew she wasn’t
ready for this,” Mom said.

“I’m right here,”
I snapped. “You don’t have to talk about me as though I’m not.”

Ignoring both of
us, my dad continued, "Jack explained that your father had been killed,
and your mother had to give you up to protect you.”

“From?”
This
just keeps getting better and better.

“You see, dear,” Mom
said, “your father was human, but your mother was not.”

“What was my
mother, then?” I asked, deciding to play along. “Vampire? Werewolf? Or maybe
she was a fairy?”

“I know this is
difficult to take in,” Dad said quietly, “but we’re telling you the truth.” He
looked defeated, exhausted. I decided to cut him a little slack.

“Okay,” I said,
softening my voice. My mind was reeling. “So what was my mother?” I asked
again.

“She was a dark
angel. A fallen angel, if you will. Their sole purpose is to wreak havoc on
earth, to bring death and chaos and ultimately Hell on earth.  But she was
one of the good ones – the
only
good one. She didn’t want that
life.” My father paused, looking at me to gauge my reaction.

I said nothing, so
he started speaking again. “Your biological mother didn’t support Hell. She
fell in love with a human, got married and had you. But the demon who was
ruling Hell at the time found out about it. He killed your father, kidnapped
you. You were going to have a special place in Hell. He thought that your
unique position – being half human and half angel – would make you
an asset. You were to be trained for his agenda, to start a war and bring as
much death and destruction as possible.”

This was a very
elaborate story. There was no way they would make this up. So there was only
one other explanation: Jack was the crazy one, and somehow he had gotten my
parents to drink the Kool-Aid.

“Okay,” I said,
humoring him.

My mom nodded,
pleased that I sounded like I was receptive to their story. “Your real mother
sought assistance from the government to get you back,” Dad continued. “Jack
led the mission. After you were safe, they helped her go into hiding, before
the demons could kill her. But it was too dangerous for her to keep you.”

“Jack knew we’d
always wanted a child but hadn’t been able to have one,” my mom said. “And he
trusted us. We agreed to take you, to raise you as our own daughter.”

“What made you
believe him, though?” I asked. “I mean, you must admit, this story is pretty
wild.”

They exchanged a
glance. “Should we show her the video?” my mother said.

Dad nodded. He
left the room and returned a few minutes later, then popped a disc into the DVD
player.

The video started
to play. The picture was fuzzy at first, but then it became clear. I gasped
when I saw the woman, sitting at a chair behind a desk. Her eyes were red and
swollen and she was trying to hold back tears. But that’s not what floored me.
The woman in the video was a spitting image of me – or more fittingly, I
was a spitting image of her.

She looked a
little older than me, maybe twenty-five. She had the same, long dark wavy hair,
the same upturned nose, the same high cheekbones.

“I haven’t watched
this in so long,” my mom whispered. “You look just like her.”

Someone was
speaking on the video, someone out of sight from the camera. A man. I
recognized Jack’s gruff voice immediately.

“Sabrina, you’ve
got to get a hold of yourself,” he was saying, his voice sounding unusually
soft.

The woman, Sabrina
– my mother – sniffled. “Thank you for everything, Jack,” she
whispered. “You promise me this couple will take good care of Lana? And they
won’t change her name?” Her voice cracked. “I know it’s silly, but when I look
up at the sky I want to think of my precious Lana. It’s the only thing I could
give her.”

“There, there,”
Jack was saying awkwardly. “You’re doing the best thing you can for your
daughter. Keeping her away from Magnus. His plans for her future.”

“And you know for
certain that Magnus can’t find her?” she asked worriedly.

“Yes, you saw for
yourself. We gave her the mark, on her right shoulder. It will protect her.”
Jack must have leaned back in his chair because I heard a long creak.

“Now, Sabrina,
before we finalize this, I need you to restate everything we just talked about,
for the record; then I’ll get the paperwork to sign.”

“My name is
Sabrina Lawson. I agree to give up my parental rights to Lana Lawson. For her
safety, I will never have any future contact with my daughter.”

She paused and
then spoke again, this time looking directly into the camera. “Lana, if you see
this video, please know how very much I loved you, how it ripped my heart in
two to give you away. I hope you understand, that you can forgive me someday.
Your father was human. His name was John Lawson and he was a good man. He
accepted me for who I was, but they found me and punished him for my
transgressions. And Lana, if you ever feel the darkness try to take over, just
think of all the light in the world. I was able to fight it, and I’m a true
dark angel; you’re only half. You can live a happy life, and you’re protected
so that they can never find you.”

“Are you done?”
Jack asked gently in the background.

Sabrina’s eyes
flickered away from the camera for a moment. “Just one more minute,” she
begged.

She looked back at
the camera. “You need to understand that someday, probably starting in your
teenage years, you may notice that you have some special abilities other girls
your age don’t have. Dark angels are physically strong; they can even overtake human
men. And if you want to practice magic, please only use it for good, not evil.
I know you can fight the darkness, just like me. Find someone to spend the rest
of your life with. Have kids if you want them; you won’t have to live in fear
of being found. I love you so much, Lana.”

And with that, the
video cut off.

I could feel my
eyes welling up with tears. Surely I wasn’t starting to believe this drivel.
But I had easily fought off Damon. I could have killed him that night, if I’d
wanted to. As for the magic – well, I didn’t know what I thought about
that.

And Sabrina did
look exactly like me, not to mention the mark I have on my right shoulder. I
never liked it, always thought it was just an ugly birthmark. But it was black
and jagged, not like any birthmark I’d seen before.

My parents hadn’t
said anything since the video stopped. I turned my head and tugged at the
opening of my shirt, straining to see the birthmark.

“The dark angels know
how to find each other. Your marking was done with a spell and holy water. It
makes you invisible to them,” my mother explained.

“So why didn’t it
protect Sabrina?” I whispered.

“Jack told us she
was double crossed,” Dad replied. “She had the protective marking, but Sabrina
couldn’t let go of trying to save her brothers and sisters. She slipped up and
told her sister where she was. Her sister’s loyalties were with Magnus –
he’s the demon who rules Hell. That’s when he caught them and killed your father.”

“Do you believe us
now?” my mom asked softly.

“I don’t know what
to believe,” I said truthfully. “I need to think.”

It was that night
that I drank the whisky until I passed out and woke up puking. But before I hit
the pass out point I had decided to see if any of these powers were real
– not that I was sure I believed the story, but if on the tiny chance it
were true, didn’t that mean I should have some supernatural ability?

I made a drinking
game out of it. I placed a quarter on the bed and tried to use my mind to flick
it to the ceiling. Every time nothing happened, I took a drink of whisky.

After about the
tenth time, the coin flew up and smacked the ceiling. Excited, I tried it over
and over again, proving to myself that it wasn’t a fluke. Now I was drinking
every time it
did
work.

I got bored with
the coin and decided to try larger objects. There were some stuffed animals
from my childhood that I’d never been able to part with. I slung them off the
dresser and onto the floor, one by one, without so much as moving an inch.
Then, using my mind, I put them back on the shelf in the same order they were
in before.

I wasn’t sure if
it was the whisky making me hallucinate or I really had the ability to move
things with my mind.

The next day, when
my head had cleared and the shock had (partially) subsided, I realized the
awful truth – I really was half dark angel. I can’t explain why I knew,
but I did.

Over the next few
weeks, I came to a gradual realization. It didn’t matter what Sabrina said on
that video about me living a normal life. I had no right to burden anyone else
with my curse. And besides, who was she to predict my destiny? Her own siblings
turned against her; she wanted to believe her daughter could be a good person,
but deep down, even she must have had her doubts.

I thought about
Sabrina a lot at first. Was she still alive? Did she really look up at the sky
and think about her long lost daughter? I contacted Jack, retired now, and
begged him to find out. But no one in his old division knew. They’d lost track
of Sabrina over a decade ago.

I was furious with
my parents. I felt like they told me because of their own guilt, not because of
what was best for me. I had been betrayed by everyone I loved. First Damon, and
then my parents. The only three people I had ever trusted with
my life.
And all of them were frauds.

So I retreated
into myself. Vowed to be a loner, to interact with people as little as
possible. I had been floundering about what I wanted to do with my life, and it
was during that time I decided to become a pediatrician.

Dealing with
children was different than adults. They were innocent, looking at the world
through untainted eyes. And I knew that no matter what I became, if I did in
fact embrace my dark side, I could never in a million years hurt a child.

And so I left my
parents, my hometown, that stupid video, and everything else behind to start a
new life. I never tried to move things with my mind again. I didn’t want to
know if I could do it. No, I would live the straight and narrow, pretend I was
as human as everyone else.

It worked for a while,
but like real humans, I craved connection. First Maryanne, then Michael broke
down my walls. I was foolishly convinced that I deserved to be happy.

But just like the
story of Icarus, I had flown too close to the sun, stupidly believing I could
have it all. And now, I was going to lose everything.