Infinite Days (23 page)

I shook my head. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that the herd of deer were close, maybe only twenty feet away.

“Vicken was taking your life, yet you thought of
his
tragedy. You mourned for him. Then you thought of me, not to blame me but in the hope that somehow I was at peace. And Justin, this boy? You wanted to save him from pain and grief. There was no thought of yourself.”

“I’ve done that enough.”

“It’s the intent,” he said, leaning forward. “Never forget that.” He kissed my forehead. When he did, I closed my eyes for a brief second. When I opened them, Rhode was backing away toward the direction of the Quartz meadow.

“Will I remain human?”

Rhode stopped.

“No, love. Even I cannot control a magic that ancient.” He pointed into the meadow. “Look,” he said. “Deer.” When I turned, one of them was so close I could have pet the top of his head. When I looked back, Rhode was much farther away, though I could still see his face.

“You’re leaving?” My eyes went wide, and I took a step forward.

“On the contrary, you are.”

He backed away some more. I ran toward him, but somehow he was so much farther than I could reach, so I stopped after a few paces.

“There’s so much I want to say. I miss you.”

Rhode smirked in response. He was almost out of my sight.

“Will I see you?” My voice cracked.

“Do not be surprised by your greatness, Lenah Beaudonte,” Rhode called. “Be surprised that no one expected it.”

One blink. Then another.

With my eyes closed, I ran my tongue over my teeth—they were smooth like ice. I opened my eyes. The ceiling tiles were gleaming black. I turned my head to my right to see the night table. On it a crystal decanter was filled with deep red blood. I picked it up, ignoring the goblet next to it, and drank directly from the opening. I drank it fast. The blood was thick, thicker than tree sap and full of iron. It smelled like rust and tasted like heaven and I let it fill me. But after two or three gulps, I found that I was full. Bursting, actually, so that I couldn’t take one more sip. Odd. Before, as a vampire, I would need cups and cups, at least a body’s worth, to feel this full, usually every few days. Now, all I needed were three sips?

I placed the decanter back on the night table. I had my ESP back. It was quiet and I knew the coven was awaiting my awakening. I let my arms move slowly and I touched items delicately so as to not make a sound. A few moments alone were exactly what I needed to reacquaint myself with my surroundings.

What did Rhode mean by gifts? As I let the questions about my brief encounter with Rhode swirl in my mind, I lowered myself back onto the bed so I wouldn’t make the mattress squeak. I recognized my old armoire; I was sure Vicken had filled it with clothes for me. On the wall across from the bed was a flat-screen television and on the night table, a remote control. I could see the fibers in the floor as well as the microscopic air bubbles in the paint on the ceiling. There was a laptop, a desk made of the finest mahogany, and the shine in the wooden floor almost burned my—oh…
my.
My appraisal of the room stopped immediately. I realized…I was
completing human thoughts
. I had retained my soul. Ha! I giggled with my mouth open, then threw my hands over my mouth. I needed some more time alone to consider this. It was night, most likely eight or nine p.m. I could tell from the brightness of the stars outside. I sat up and pulled the curtains closed. I noticed that on the floor to the left of my bed was my prom clutch. I didn’t even need to look. Inside was some money, the prom ticket, Rhode’s vial, and the dried thyme that Suleen had given me. I slipped it under my pillow. My legs were firm, my abs tight. I was rock hard and vampire-like. Yet my mind was 100 percent human.

I lay down on the bed and stretched my legs out. Nothing had a texture anymore. No fabric could run along my arm and affect my nerves, sending chills. I was numb again, but, from my memory, I knew this bed was soft. I waited and listened, but my heart was silent. I refocused on the ceiling tiles.

Do not be surprised by your greatness, Lenah Beaudonte. Be surprised that no one expected it.

What did this mean? I was a vampire who apparently needed only minimal blood to survive and I was able to keep my human thoughts. Were these my gifts? Seemed like an odd combination. I reached to turn on the lamp on the night table when a blast of light shone on the curtain pulled across the window. I sat up, my back rigid. I looked left at a dresser with a mirror on top of it and then looked right at the night table. The furniture was shrouded in darkness. There was only one lamp, the one next to me on the night table, and it was off. Where did that light come from?

I reached underneath the lamp shade to turn it on again. My palm faced out toward the window and my fingers curled beneath the lamp shade. Another blast of light illuminated the curtain!

That’s when I felt the heat emanating from my palms.

I sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at my hands. My vampire sight was back in full force and I could see all the tiny pores in my skin. Except, when I brought them close to my eyes, they were different. My pores were glittering. An odd shimmer, as though the pores were filled with…light.

I stood up. Anxiety flowed through my skin. With the blood giving me energy, I stared at my palms and threw my arms out as hard as I could. I stretched my fingers so my palms were tight. Light came through my hands and fingertips and out onto the wall and curtains. I did it again. Light as bright as the morning sun.

Then there was a knock on the door.

I spun around, shoving my hands under my arms.

“Lenah?” I heard Gavin’s voice and the bedroom doorknob turned. He was always the softest of the four. I took a deep breath, reminding myself to hold up my guard. They couldn’t know I had retained my soul. If they did, I would be killed instantly. That was part of the orchestration of the magic of the coven. If one of the coven retained even a semblance of their humanity, it meant they were weak. Weakness had to be killed and then replaced. I constructed the coven so that we would be powerful with
nothing
to hold us back. I had to be evil, like them. After all, they were expecting their queen.

“Come in,” I said, turning to face the door. My hair fell past my shoulders, and I continued to hold my hands across my chest, my palms protected under my arms. Gavin was at least six feet, with boyish features. I had made him a vampire in 1740 in England.

Gavin left the door open behind him. He bowed, just slightly, so I could see the top of his short brown hair. “How do you feel?” he asked.

I walked toward him, not breaking eye contact. I stopped and kissed his cheek. “Perfect,” I said with a devious grin and walked out the door.

Keeping my mind focused, I walked down the hallway. I admit, while I was at Wickham, I forgot about the glory of my mansion. It was four floors, each with a different theme. This floor was for my own personal use. I had some rooms decorated only with velvet, some in black onyx. I had a private bedroom, a study, a sitting room, and a bathroom, though I never used it. My favorite room was the weapons room a few floors down.

As I walked, I could hear Gavin’s footsteps behind me. At the bottom of a grand staircase, standing with his arms crossed over his chest, was Vicken and on either side of him, as though standing guard, were Heath and Song. I linked my hands behind Vicken’s shoulders and pulled him toward me. We embraced while the others looked on. He pulled away from me just enough to look in my eyes. The love he felt for me surged through my arms and spread through my new body like a comforting heat. But I knew—on my side, it was broken. When Rhode had made me human the bond between us broke apart. I hoped while locked in his gaze that he wouldn’t be able to tell.

“Welcome back,” he said, stepping back and gripping my forearms. His touch was earnest and I could sense that indeed they were all happy. I embraced each vampire, making sure to look each in the eye to assure them that I was the evil vampire Lenah once again. I kept my head focused and my eyes still. As we walked into the living room, I stole one glance at the falling snow out the window and felt a wrench in my heart. I could not allow this. The coven and I were linked again in magic and they might be able to sense what I was thinking.

Vicken tugged at my hand and held me back.

“Is it really you?” he asked as the others started a fire and organized our chairs in the living room. Vicken’s glance was needy. He truly had transformed me back into a vampire for himself. Something I would have done.

“Fool,” I said, and took his hand and led him into the living room. He cackled and gripped my hand in return.

There was nothing. No burning in my cheeks. No desire for food. There was only a relentless desire to go back. If Rhode could wield the ritual, why couldn’t I? I needed something to keep me occupied, to find a way to return home. To Wickham.

I spent my days researching Rhode’s ritual. It helped time pass and it gave me an excuse to be alone. I made up all kinds of information to mislead the coven. I lied about how much I knew about the ritual. I claimed to have awakened at Wickham and Rhode was already gone—I said anything to throw them off. Vicken had a particular interest in the ritual and spent many days by my side while I worked in the library.

Days passed, then weeks…snow fell and the coven threw parties in my honor. I did not venture out of the house. Truth be told, I’m not exactly sure I was allowed. The coven orchestrated my schedule. One day I would come downstairs to dead bodies strewn about the living room, and the next I would find the coven reading, surrounded by books. Was I really happy with this before?

Of course I could have overruled them at any time. I made them, I created the magic that bound them together, though I didn’t test my boundaries nor did they. If I had, my true nature would have been revealed and the hierarchy would have been broken. It was the rule. If a vampire in our coven retained her humanity, her capability to think rationally, she would have to be killed. It wouldn’t have mattered if I were their queen or not. If I retained my humanity in any form, I weakened the link.

I wasn’t sure exactly what had happened to me out on that field with Rhode. At first, I drank one glass of blood every few days. I didn’t ask the boys where they got it. I allowed them to provide it for me. Selfish, yes, but I knew what I needed and had no interest in killing anyone. Over time, the desire for blood waned. I only needed it once a week, then once a month. By April first, I had one glass of blood and found myself full. Just one glass for the
entire
month. The coven continued to bring me blood, but I disposed of it in the sink.

Like I said, everything was heightened—my sight, my ability to comprehend thoughts, so reading was quick and easy. I was a super vampire.

It was the end of April when I began to worry that Vicken suspected that I was not myself. I was in the library, which was on the first floor of the mansion. I sat at a long table, and a fire roared behind me. It would have been silent if not for the rain pelting the windows. Ancient candles in tall iron holders stretched up and down the table.

The book I was reading was written in Hebrew. I read it from right to left and followed the text:

I already knew this. Rhode discovered that a vampire had to be five hundred years old or else the ritual wouldn’t work. I slammed the book closed. Dust from the ancient cover flew into the air, sending dust particles into the candle flames. In three months, I had acquired nothing I didn’t already know.

“Reading again?”

I looked up. Vicken walked from the doorway down the length of the long table and sat down across from me.

“Had any luck?” he asked. He wore a crooked smile.

“If I said yes, that I uncovered that ritual, what would you do?”

Vicken folded his hands on the table and then leaned forward. “I’d want to go wherever you are. Which is why I am here, in the library.”

“Well,” I said, looking back to the book in front of me, “even if I found something, I couldn’t wield it. The ritual calls for the vampire performing it to be five hundred years old.”

“You were very powerful. Perhaps age isn’t an issue for you.”

“What are you saying?”

“Don’t you think it would work, anyway?”

I leaned forward.

“Are you suggesting I attempt it despite the chance that I would die a painful death if it didn’t work?”

Vicken said nothing. In some small way my response had overruled his position and he dared not challenge me.

I flipped back open the book to a random page. I looked down at the ink but didn’t focus on the words on the page. “I’ve found nothing,” I said.

“Perhaps you are not looking in the right places,” he said, looking at the flames of the candles and then at me. “You know, we installed lights when they discovered electricity.”

“And television and computers,” I said, leaning into the chair back.

“Tell me what you’ve found. I know you’ve found something. You’ve been looking for months.” I kept my gaze fixed on Vicken. “A hunch,” he confessed, without me even asking. My position as his maker made it impossible for him to conceal this information from me. Something else came with that confession, an emotion I was not expecting to feel from him—longing.

“Why are you so invested? It would be ages before you could use the ritual.”

“What was your life like at Wickham?”