I Am Forever (What Kills Me) (9 page)

“Zee!” Lucas cried, reaching for me over the fallen couch. He caught a handful of my skirt, tearing the fabric. I saw my frightened face in the glass a second before I crashed through the table with my elbows. The glass broke, like a cracker crumbling into soup. Red liquid and shards flew up and everywhere. The table buckled under me, but instead of collapsing on the pieces, Lucas grabbed me under my armpits and lifted me up.

Blood.

“Are you all right?”

I staggered back, crunching glass, blinking blood from my eyes.
Am I bleeding?
I blew blood from my nostrils and swiped at my nose with the back of my hand. The metallic, rotten stink stung my senses.

“Am I—am I bleeding?” I asked, though I registered no pain.

Lucas ran his hands up my arms and then scraped the wet hair from my eyes with his pinky. “No, it’s the blood from inside the coffee table.”

“Did you hear that?” I hissed.

“Hear what?” Lucas looked around wildly, his hands forming fists and his body braced.

There...there was screaming. Oh my God. I heard screaming.

“What is it, Zee?”

Suddenly I noticed a beautiful, tall woman standing in the doorway. Her small head perched on an impossibly long and slender neck. Her black hair was cut close to her scalp, revealing elfin ears, and her full lips were pursed into an O.

“My lady?” she said, alarmed.

I scratched at my chest and trembled. There was blood everywhere. Dotting the wall, dripping off the couch, seeping into the carpet. It looked like I had slaughtered someone in her waiting room.

“Zee, what happened?” Lucas asked.

Confused, the memory of Noel’s voice echoed in my ears. I heard him. I saw his face. His expression contorted, panicked, telling me to run. Just like before he died.

I sucked in air and expelled it in a puff. When I was human, I would breathe deep and exhale as if I was releasing my demons and my fears. Now, inhaling only served to fill my lungs with the stale, almost sour air in the room.

“My lady, are you all right?” the vampire asked.

I realized that my hands were raised and my fingers were nervously moving as if I was typing on an imaginary keyboard.

“Zee,” Lucas said.

Noel.

Afraid to upset Lucas, I shook the image of his father from my mind. The vampire took my motion as a “no” and snapped her fingers. Soldiers and maids immediately appeared.

“No, I mean, yes. I’m fine,” I said. “I—I was startled by something.”

With everyone watching me, I wanted to cry. I felt vulnerable. Exposed.
They must think I’m out of my mind. Attacking people in my sleep. Destroying furniture. Maybe I am losing my mind. Maybe I’m unfit to be the Divine.

Instead I said, “I’m so sorry about this mess. Apparently that’s all I do now. I go around breaking things. I’m a human wrecking ball. I mean, vampire...”

“As long as you’re not injured, my lady. These things can be replaced,” she said. “I am the doctor Femi.”

She was a gorgeous figure, a black queen against a white chessboard square. Her fitted black dress had leather sleeves. A clipboard was tucked under a thin, angular arm that bent and jutted like a grasshopper’s leg.

“I’m Zee,” I said. “This is Lucas.”

She smiled at both of us. “Would you like to go and bathe, my lady?”

I thought of the maids scrubbing me down and waved my hand. “No, that’s not necessary.”

Blood was trapped in the tulle netting of my skirt, like soap solution in bubble wands. I gave my dress a shake. “A change of clothes and a towel will do, if that’s all right.”

“As you wish,” she said.

The maids brought me a white dress and I changed in an adjoining room. The sleeves were too long and hung over my fingertips. I nervously joked to one of the maids, “You’re not going to tie these behind my back like a straitjacket, are you?”

I waved the frilly sleeves at her; they swished like jellyfish tentacles. She frowned at her companions as she wiped my face with a moist towel.

When I returned, Lucas was sitting on a transparent plastic chair as if nothing had happened. The couch, the coffee table, the glass, the blood. It was gone.

My mouth made a wet, smacking sound as it shot open. “What the...? How did...?”

I’m hallucinating. Where did it all go?

Lucas didn’t respond. His face was hardened by concern. I released the tension around my eyes and forced a lighter tone. “Did you just turn back time? Snap your fingers and make it all go away?”

“The Monarchy cleans very efficiently,” Dr. Femi said. “My lady, would you like to join me in my office?”

I looked to Lucas, who remained seated, and then back at the doctor. “Sure.”

“My maids will make sure that your companion is comfortable.”

She moved aside so I could step past her. I put one foot in her office and hesitated. It was almost empty. Four white armchairs were arranged in a circle in the center of the space. Light streamed in through a wall made of glass blocks. It was like being in an igloo—and it seemed equally cold.

“Go ahead, my lady,” she said, softly. “You may sit anywhere you like.”

I walked to the chair closest to the door.

“Is this your first time to therapy?”

I nodded.

Dr. Femi strode around the chairs, and for a moment it reminded me of playing duck duck goose with Tiffany. The memory prickled my nose. Dr. Femi cast me a sympathetic look with her deep-set brown eyes and sat in front of me.

“It must be difficult to come and talk to a complete stranger about things that are very personal.”

“I talk a lot to strangers, actually. It’s gotten me into trouble before,” I said with a forced chuckle.

I talked to Paolo. That’s how I ended up here.

“So what has brought you here today?” She rested the clipboard in her lap and clicked open her pen.

“Well, where do I begin?” I said.

She didn’t respond.

“I had a really bad nightmare,” I told her, twirling the end of my sleeve around my index finger.

“Tell me about it.”

“I don’t know. I’ve never had a dream like that before. Someone or—something was attacking me, pulling me out of the bed. It was pitch black and just...super scary.”

Dr. Femi emitted a low hum and nodded. “That must have been quite the nightmare. How did you feel now?”

“I don’t know. Confused? And horrible because I had hurt people. I stabbed Lucas in the gut with a shard of glass, thinking he was the thing attacking me.” I mimed clawing and then added, “Thank goodness he heals fast.”

“Were you able to fall back asleep afterward?”

“No.”

“It sounds like this has been an unsettling experience for you. How are you coping?”

“I don’t know. Fine, I guess. I’m just trying not to think about it.”

“Is that how you normally deal with these kinds of situations?” The corners of her mouth were slightly upturned but the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“No. I usually say something stupid to lighten the mood. My sister is diabetic and when she was little and getting her needles, we would tell each other jokes and then rate them on our own ‘funny meter.’ She never let me win.”

“So you use humor when you’re upset?”

“Yes.”

“Like outside in the waiting room?”

“Yes.”

“Can you tell me what happened there?”

I swallowed and shifted in my seat. The back of the chair curved inward slightly, forcing me to sit up straight. Looking around I struggled for words. “I...I heard something.”

“Something?” She cocked her head.

“I heard screaming. I heard the voice of someone I cared about. I saw his face, moments before he died.”

“You heard screaming and imagined his death.”

“No, he died in real life. It was Lucas’s father. We were trying to escape the Aramatta and he—he was killed because they came for me.”

“So you were in the waiting room and you experienced a vivid memory of his death?” Her pen wagged as she scribbled on her clipboard. “Would you say it was like experiencing a flashback?”

“I guess.”
A powerful flashback.

“Have you experienced something like this before?”

I remembered my bath.
The general.
“Yes. Once.”

“What happens before these flashbacks occur? In the waiting room, were you talking about the tragic event or thinking about it?”

“Not really. I was talking to Lucas about being back at the palace. He used to train with the Aramatta and make weapons here. I hadn’t thought about how difficult it might have been for him to be back here.”

“Do you often talk to Lucas about these things or about what troubles you?”

“I try. But he’s not the most chatty person. He definitely is not going to talk to me about his feelings.”

Unless he’s feeling like I’m acting idiotic.

“Lucas is your mate?”

“What?”

“Is Lucas your mate?”

Embarrassed and flustered, I crossed my legs and my arms. The truth was I didn’t know. We didn’t date. We’d escaped death. We kissed once, in the desperate heat of a moment when we were just so grateful to be alive.

“She is mine,” he’d told the Empress when she said that I belonged to no one. That I had no creator. That I was alone and unworthy of love or life. But did that mean he loved me? He never said.

And did I love him?
I’m seventeen. How am I supposed to know what love is?

If we had been human, we would’ve started with going to the movies. Then one day he’d introduce me to someone as his girlfriend and I’d say, “I’m your girlfriend?” And we’d have this awkward but cute moment of togetherness.

That’s how I pictured it, anyway.

How did vampires date? I thought of two vampires biting the arms of the same victim, like that spaghetti-eating scene in
Lady and the Tramp
where the dogs suck on the same string of pasta. The vampires would meet at the neck and say, “Oh! You first.” “No please, you first.”

Dr. Femi scribbled something on her clipboard, interrupting my thoughts.

“I don’t know,” I finally admitted.

“How long have you known each other?”

I winced. “Almost two weeks?”

Her pen wiggled as she wrote.

“Would you say that you know each other well?”

“Yes. I mean, I think so.”

Except that I never know what he’s thinking.

“What do you know about him?”

“He’s a swordsmith with the Monarchy. He can be a bit of jerk sometimes. But he’s loyal and brave. I feel safe around him.”

“Feeling safe is good, especially with what you have been through.”

What is she trying to say?

A strange knot formed in my chest, a tightness that spread throughout my body: maybe I was confusing my feelings for Lucas with wanting to be safe. I wanted to live and I could not have survived without him. Was I that selfish?

“It sounds like he’s very protective of you. Would you agree?”

“Yes.”

He first protected me because his father told him to. And then his father died. Maybe he protected me now because he had failed to protect his sisters from the Aramatta six hundred years ago. Maybe I was his attempt at redemption.

“It’s common for people to connect during stressful situations,” the doctor said. “Having to go through a trial often bonds people.”

So outside of fighting and panic, what we have may not be real? Because what the heck does a gazillion-year-old vampire have in common with a seventeen-year-old girl?

These thoughts ravaged my brain. I felt assaulted, hurt, confused. There were too many things running through my mind. I shook my head and rubbed my forehead.

“How are you feeling about all these things that have happened?”

“I don’t know how I feel.”

“Let me understand. You’re saying that you’re having nightmares and flashbacks. You’re having a difficult time feeling anything and are confused about your emotions.”

“Yes.”

“These symptoms that you have described are similar to what others experience when they have been through a very traumatic event. This is all very normal, my lady. However, if untreated these symptoms could lead to post-traumatic stress disorder. Have you heard that term before?”

“Yes.” I had heard of the term in relation to soldiers returning from war.

“If you’d like, we can work together on limiting the impact of these issues.”

“Okay.”

“Many of my clients have a hard time cognitively making sense of what has happened. For example, some have experienced a death in their family and they’re not able to grieve. To be able to deal with a difficult time or event or memory, you have to be able to recollect, to process, and to understand your own emotions. It sounds as if you feel guilt, shame, and fear. A lot of these things can manifest physiologically. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“We’re going to try to deal with these concerns so they don’t develop into more serious things. Part of dealing is talking about it. How would you feel about coming back for another session?”

“That would be great, thank you.”

“Perhaps next time we can talk about how you feel about your new role? I’d be interested to hear how you’re doing with that.”

I stood up, dizzy with thoughts.

When she opened the door to the waiting room, Lucas wasn’t there.