Kindling (12 page)

My abuela was a bit more supportive than my abuelo, though, and whispered encouragements. “It was so hard to keep from you, but I wouldn’t have done it any other way. My boys,” she got teary at this part. “My boys didn’t have much of a childhood.” She hugged me and sang me a lullaby that she used to sing when I was little. I wanted to hear her whole story – what had life been like married to a vampyre Hunter? How had she even got mixed up into all of this? – but I couldn’t find the time and she didn’t seem like she wanted to talk about that too much. She wanted to hold me and pet my hair and I let her.

My sister was very upset. I expected her to be, but I couldn’t tell her anything and that made it worse for me. I certainly couldn’t tell her Heike was my father – she’d feel like I was choosing one family over mi familia - and I definitely couldn’t tell her about vampyres. She knew about the fight during my party, so we played that up and made it seem like I needed to learn how to better protect myself. Papá’s friend, we told her, knew of a special school in that I could attend to keep me safe. As absurd as it sounded – a lot of things sounded incredibly absurd at that moment – Gaby believed it. She cried for a long time and threw a bit of a temper tantrum, but I promised I’d call and write to her and send her souvenirs.

About an hour before we were going to leave for the airport, there was a knock on the door. Immediately, I was on my guard – could the vampyres show up again? My father hushed me and peered out the front door.

“Abuela!” my father cried. He hadn’t been expecting my bisabuela - she lived over three hours away outside of Cananea - and it seemed as though no one else had expected her, either. “What are you doing here?”

“¿Cómo estás, bisabuela?” I asked. I gave her a kiss and a long hug. I had always been incredibly close with my great-grandmother. We shared a really special bond, closer than even her and my grandfather. She always reminded me of a good witch, ethereal and white, the deep grooves on her face telling the passage of an epoch. She was the type of Mexican that was a combination of hundreds of years of a strong mestizo and Native American and Mayan lineage. Her hair was silver white with streaks of black and her eyes were like round, black pools.

“Bueno,” she said. She smiled. “Lets talk, Catalina.” Without waiting for a response, she glided past me and out to the patio.

I shrugged. “Okay,” I said, although she couldn’t hear me, and I followed her outside.

It was a warm day and I found her on the patio fanning herself in the shade. “So,” she said as soon I sat down. “Heinrich has been here to speak with you.”

“Uhmmm ...” Was I allowed to tell her? It seemed like something that shouldn’t be talked about.

“Ah, you’re good for being alert,” bisabuela said. “We’re pretty secret, protecting the world and all. Wouldn’t want that to get around, hey?” She smiled and winked.

“We?” I said. “What do you mean ‘we’? Are you ...”

“Yes,” she said. “Well, I used to be. I was the second female hunter to be allowed into the coven.” She seemed quite proud.

“Holy shit,” I whispered. My face reddened. I knew I shouldn’t swear in front of my great-grandmother but, holy shit! “Lo siento,” I apologized.

She laughed. “No, ‘holy shit’ was just about the right thing to say.” She chuckled, then sobered. “Listen, Catalina, I’m here to tell you it’s going to be hard. You’ll be alone over there. The students – and the grown Hunters and especially the High Masters – won’t like you very much, you know. They don’t like women in The Coven. Until Heinrich became the leader, wives and daughters weren’t even allowed on the island!”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “Heinrich is the leader? Heinrich Van Helsing? My ... my father?”

“He didn’t tell you?” she asked. I shook my head. “He’s one of three leaders. He’s High Master of the Coven. And there are two others, High Master of Training and High Master of Learning.” She sighed. “It’s going to be harder on you, still, because Heinrich is your father. They’re going to see favouritism no matter what Heike does and they’re going to take it out on you.” My bisabuela placed her hand on top of mine and frowned. “He’s not accepted, my Kitten, and he’s not liked. It was him and his father that brought about too many changes. Many of the Hunters hate the Van Helsings because they’ve turned The Coven into an inclusive society instead of a rich prick club.”

“Bisabuela!” I smiled. “What language!”

She laughed. “Abram, your grandfather, is a good man, just traditional. He believed in slow change. The men need to adapt slowly. But then Heike took over and started changing the rules on day one. And most of the Hunters in charge are old farts and don’t like change,” she laughed. “But, things do change, they have to. People change,” she shook her head. Then she paused and looked into my face. “And you’re a Kindler, Catalina. They fear Kindlers and hate what they fear. They grow up being afraid of Kindlers. It’s one of the greatest powers a Hunter can pocess, but it’s terrifying.” I shrugged and we sat in silence for a few minutes. “Do you have questions, my Catalina? I know you must have a million. I can try to answer some.”

I thought for a few moments and then something Braith said – about women in The Coven – came to mind. “Bisabuela, Braith said the last woman to train at The Coven was over 100 years ago.”

“Ah, yes,” she said. Her eyes twinkled. “Well over 100, I think.”

I held up my hands. “Wait, wait, whoa,” I said. “What are you saying? How old are you?”

“A lady never reveals her age!” She laughed. “Hm, let me think.” She paused. “Around 160, 170? Maybe a bit more. Oh, it’s terrible. I can’t even remember my birthday.” I looked stunned, I knew I looked stunned, and she laughed. “It’s part of The Gift, or part of The Curse, whichever way you want to look at it. We live much, much longer than humans. Even the children of Hunters who do not have The Gift live much longer. It’s just part of our life.”

“What do you mean we live longer than humans?” I asked. “Aren’t we humans?”

She shrugged her body. “That’s still up for negotiations,” she smiled.

“Holy jeez,” I said. “Holy jeez. This keeps getting more and more insane,” I said under my breath. She laughed. “Are we, like, immortal?”

“No, we are very mortal, Kit, and don’t forget that. We just age much slower. And, the longer you remain in The Coven – the longer you remain a Hunter – the slower you age. Some hunters stop aging altogether until they leave. You’ll meet some Hunters who are much older than me but look barely middle aged.”

“Holy shhh ...” I caught myself before I swore again. “So, children who are not hunters live longer, too?” She nodded. “Like, my parents?” She nodded again. “How old is papá?”

“Goodness, Catalina, I can’t even remember my own age,” she laughed and then thought it over. “He’s maybe 70? Maybe 80? You’ll need to ask him. I can’t remember those things. You’re mother, I know, is much younger.”

My head was about to explode: my father, fit and young-looking, was possibly a 70-year-old man. My friends used to be so jealous because my dad was so young, but he wasn’t! He was an old fart!

“What else, bisabuela? Is there more?”

She nodded slowly. “There is always more, my darling.”

“How can I handle more?” I was close to tears and she rubbed my shoulders.

“You’ll learn as the time passes. By the end of the year, you’ll be a warrior, just like I was,” she smiled. The warmth of her and knowing that she had gone through something similar brought me happiness and I smiled, too. “Prepare yourself, my Kitten. It’s going to be difficult and those little boys you’ll be dealing with will not make it any easier on you. You need to be ready for them.” She nodded once and kissed my forehead. “But, my darling, you will be amazing.”

I sniffled but held back my tears. “What if I’m not? What if I fail?” I asked.

“Impossible,” she affirmed.

“How can you be so sure? Maybe I’m not made for this? Maybe I’ll fuck everything up,” I cried.

She smiled and held one of my hands between both of her. “Oh, Catalina,” she said. “I am The Oracle.”

On the plane, I was breathing so heavily – in and out, in and out – I sounded like I was in labor and I thought I was probably going to pass out. I was dizzy from the breathing and from going over everything that happened in the last 24 hours: I had seen my papá frightened for the first time in my life; I found out I was being stalked for the last two years by an arrogant, Australian ass; I met my biological father, who turned out to be less of a jerk than I had previously assumed; I met some vampyres, which was pretty weird as, oh yeah, I thought they DIDN’T EXIST; and I discovered I was a Vampyre Hunter who controlled fire. Yeah, all in all, I was just a bit overwhelmed. Did I say “a bit”? I meant to say I felt like I WAS GOING INSANE from being overwhelmed.

And, to top it off, when I met Heike and Braith at the airport, Braith had no bruises. In fact, there was no evidence that he had been in a fight. Not twenty-four hours before, we supposedly fought four vampyres and, last night, both of us were pretty beaten. But, Braith’s face was flawless. My face still looked like it had been used as a punching bag and my body felt like someone had clobbered it with a bat. I couldn’t really ask Braith about it, though, as he was in a bar when I got to the airport and, on the plane, Braith continued his drinking. I decided to wait until he was at least semi-sober to ask him how he healed so quickly, but it unsettled me. I was weirded out that he had no visible injuries from the fight and I was freaking out because it was my first time on an airplane, which was heading halfway across the world, and my seat mate was drunk before he even got on the plane.

The miraculously healed Braith seemed to be enjoying the trip, although I couldn’t tell what he enjoyed more: flirting with the stewardesses or the free booze. At least he was amused more with drinking and flirting than trying to annoy me. And we had a bit more room to lounge as Heike purchased us first class tickets.

“It’s the only way to fly,” Braith had said with his usual sense of arrogance. He was a caricature of a person in first class – drinking champagne, batting eyelids at sexy girls, eating filet mignon. We had only been in the air for three hours and Braith had literally eaten everything offered – cookies, cakes, two full meals, three different types of deserts, and several glasses of champagne and scotch and a variety of other beverages that seemed to relax him more and more.

To summarize: he was grotesquely annoying.

I had to admit, though, First Class was pretty fancy. The seats were in their own pods and laid completely flat when you wanted to sleep and each pod had a private TV and wireless head set so you didn’t disturb your neighbour. I felt really fancy and, I supposed, if you’re going to spend close to 20 hours on a plane, I guessed this was the best way to do it and I wasn’t going to complain, especially since this felt more like a bedroom than an airplane.

Heike sat directly behind us. He said he had work to do and every so often I could hear him grumbling and speaking in Dutch.

The first time I heard Heike curse – loudly, I might add – Braith leaned over and said, “Talking to The Coven Council,” he paused. “They’re all a bunch of arses.” I could barely understand what he said because his Australian accent seemed to thicken with every drink. After he leaned over, he tilted his head to finish the last of his scotch and shook his glass at the stewardess to order another. I didn’t want to ask what The Coven Council was, exactly, mostly because I didn’t think I could have deciphered his speech. When I glanced back at him, he was already halfway through another drink and he didn’t seem very keen on elaborating, so I kept my mouth shut hoping that things would be explained later.

Just then, Heike came around to our pods and stared at Braith. “How many have you had?” He finally asked.

“How many have you swore, Dutchie?” Was what I thought Braith said, although I couldn’t really be sure because it sounded like “Howmanhayousweared, Dutchie?” And then Heike slapped Braith’s head and Braith laughed.

“We’re not halfway there and you’re pissed off your arse,” Heike said. Braithe responded by finishing off his glass and sucking on an ice cube. “Give it a rest, for a few hours at least.” And then he looked at me. “Catalina is 17. She doesn’t need to watch you get pissed off your ass.”

Braith attempted a response, although I didn’t know even relatively what he said this time. It sounded something like “Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhbloodafinga.” Heike sighed and spoke to the stewardess, then returned to his seat.

Braith turned to me and offered me his empty glass. I declined and he threw it back. All he got was a few ice cubes falling against his face. He cringed and said “Ahhhh ... Yerbloodafinga, aincha gal?”

“What are you saying?” I asked.

“Yerfinga?” He asked, looking at me through half-opened eyes. “Yerfingameanyerfadder?”

I thought for a second. “Sure?”

“Dasafingagal.” And then he passed out. I was worried that he was dead, so I poked him until his loud breaths became loud snores and his liquored breath blew in my face. I glanced through the small crack between Braith and my chairs and saw the seat next to Heike empty.