Mirror: Book One of the Valkanas Clan (23 page)

“So what do auras have to do with
Aly’s
abilities and emotions affecting vampire control over her?” Tom asked, and I mentally thanked him for keeping us on track. I was far too distractible, it seemed. MTV generation and all that, I suppose. And then I realized I was doing it again when I saw Tom grinning at me.

“The aura can be used as a shield of sorts," Damian said, "and one layer of the aura is influenced primarily by the emotional body. I am willing to wager that Alyson is unconsciously using anger to render that part of her aura into a shield that forces everything that is not her out of her mind and body."

Once again I noticed that Valerie seemed content to simply watch Damian talk. I was betting she knew about as much as he did, but she rarely interjected. One of these days I’d have to ask her about that.

One of these days when you’re not being hunted, busy with work, and trying to learn about who and what you are now, you mean?
Tom’s voice interjected.
Though you don’t seem too skilled at paying attention to the latter
, he added. I made a quick face at him,
then
returned my attention to Damian, who seemed to be both mildly amused and irritated.

“This new development between you two is going to make conversing with you even more…interesting…than it was before, I see,” he said.

 ”Sorry,” I said, determined to remain calm rather than get embarrassed. “So why
couldn’t all vampires
do that and prevent their makers from controlling them?”

“Because most vampires do not develop any ability to influence their auras without at least a century of practice," Damian said. "Once a vampire has developed enough control he or she can choose to block commands, though rejecting a maker can come with its own risks.”

 ”What do you mean, ‘
its own
risks’?" I asked. "Are you saying I’m at risk because I can’t be controlled the way most new vamps can?”

“In a way, yes,” Damian replied. “If Tom had been able to control you from the beginning, Cesar wouldn’t have been as much of a risk.”

“Yeah, but if Cesar had been able to fully control me, we’d likely all be dead right now!” I retorted.
So much for maintaining my calm.
Tom looked at me, startled. “Oh get off it,” I told him, “I’m allowed to get angry.”

“I’m not saying you aren’t,
Aly
. I’m surprised because I can’t hear you inside my head anymore.”

I stared at him. I hadn’t been paying much attention to it, being too distracted by my own thoughts and what Damian was saying, but I realized I couldn’t hear the background murmur of his thoughts anymore either.

“That’s not surprising. If your anger blocks control it would also block telepathy,” Damian said.

“I thought I was only stopping Cesar by being angry specifically with him,” I mused. “So it’s any anger at all?”

“Looks like it,
Aly
. I’m starting to get snippets here and there again now that you’re calming down,” Tom said.

“Let me finish answering your question, Alyson," Damian said. "You are not at the same kind of risk most vampires would face, simply because I and mine were already pledged to your protection before you were ever turned. But generally, as in most feudal systems, the made provide allegiance to their makers and the makers provide protection in return. If a vampire declares their independence without either a previous alliance with their maker or another vampire, or a high level of strength in their own line, then they are at risk simply because they will find it hard to protect themselves.”

I nodded, faint recollections of a college history class that touched on royal families and feudalism trickling slowly to the surface.  I guess I was lucky, getting all the benefits of protection without any of the forced obedience. I reminded myself to thank Dorothy the next time I got a chance.

“Alright, sorry for taking us off topic," I said. "Would you mind finishing your explanation of the whole aura-control, psychic gifts relationship?”

“Certainly, though I should mention that there is no way for me to be certain about any of this," Damian said. He then explained that the only reason he could imagine I would have accidentally developed such control is because of my gifts. He guessed that the gifts themselves were likely the result of a genetic predisposition toward closer connections between mind, body and aura, and that the extra-sensory information I picked up on was simply the byproduct of this closer connection. He believed I'd stumbled across a way to use those same connections going outwards, thus protecting my mind from unwanted influence.

“So you’re saying every vampire uses emotion to keep others out, but I just figured it out sooner and by accident?” I asked when Damian finished explaining his theory.

“Not quite,” Damian said. “I don’t believe most vampires who have freed themselves from their makers used emotion to do it; I know neither I nor Valerie did.”

Valerie nodded, but remained silent, prompting me to once again wonder why she wasn’t as chatty as her husband.

Actually
, I heard Tom reply,
it used to be the other way around before you got here. Damian would sometimes go days in total silence.

Really?
I replied, and he nodded slightly. I didn’t get the chance to ask him why, though, because Damian had resumed talking.

“Usually it is an effort of pure will," he said, "not one of emotion. This is something you’ll want to work on.”

“Why? The anger works just fine,” I said, mentally adding
and it’s exhilarating too, especially for someone more used to dispassionate intellectual musing.
Tom smiled, and Damian’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“It may seem that way," Damian said, "but emotions, especially anger, can turn back on you like a snake, poisoning you into immobility.  The more you use them, the less control you’ll have over them, until you eventually go insane.”

Damian sounded completely serious, but I still couldn’t keep myself from laughing.”
Insane?
Because of getting angry at some jerk who thinks he has the right to claim me and drain me in a power hungry climb for the top? Excuse me, but getting angry seems the only
rational
thing to do in that situation. And you two didn’t exactly seem emotionless in your frenzy over the crystal horn last night, I might add.” I paused, realizing I was angry again only because I noticed I could no longer hear Tom’s voice. Then I glanced at the kitchen clock, and realized I was late for my chat with Ava. “I have to go,” I said. “I’ll be back in an hour or two and then we can head to Cesar’s.”

I didn’t wait for any questions, just snatched up the car keys and sunglasses I’d left on the counter earlier and headed for the door. I picked up on a kind of mental question mark from Tom as I walked out and shot back a quick
I’ll explain later
before willing my mind to disconnect from his so I could focus on the task at hand.

A few minutes later I was at Ava’s, having sped recklessly and, I’m sure, used up every ounce of good driving karma I might have acquired by managing to avoid being spotted by any cops on the way. However, it meant I was only five minutes late, which was hopefully not enough to add any irritation to her existing anger at me.

When she answered the door, she gave my wrap-around sunglasses an amused glance.

“A regular fashion icon these days, I see.”

I smirked, and she stepped aside to let me in. Immediately Sartre came running over and began wrapping himself around my ankles, doing his best to keep me from making even the slightest movement out of the foyer before paying a chin-scratch toll. I was happy to pay it, too, both because I liked Sartre and because I was hoping his adoration of me would inspire Ava’s chilly demeanor to thaw just a little.

“So,” she said, “can I get you anything to drink? I’ve got soda, juice, and a few different teas.”

“No thanks,” I said, not wanting to ask for an alcoholic beverage at four in the afternoon, even if it was the only human drink that had any appeal anymore.

She strolled into the kitchen anyway, and emerged carrying one of her more fragrant herbal teas. I wrinkled my nose.

“What, you don’t like it?” She took a sip. “It's delicious, you should really try some. It’s the only thing I drink these days.”

“No, I’m really not thirsty,” I said, wondering what she’d think when she learned about the only thing
I
drank these days. Thinking about it weakened the head of steam I’d built up on the way over, when I’d coaxed myself on just going for the direct and immediate approach. Now that I was actually here, I was finding it hard to do more than just sit on her couch, idly staring at my hands and trying to ignore the smell of her tea.

She sat down in her favorite chair, taking a few moments to fuss about with the cushions, a coaster, and her mug. Once she was settled she simply sipped at her tea and watched me.

“So, um, thanks again for having me over,” I began awkwardly.

“
Mmm
-hmm.”

“I, uh, wanted to talk in person because what I have to say is going to sound really strange,” I continued.

“Well, you’ve certainly been acting strangely,” Ava said, just a hint of an edge in her voice. “And I don’t just mean your sudden penchant for big sunglasses, though I have to say those don’t seem very you either.”

Wow. She was definitely taking the whole truth-telling thing to the limit today.

“Actually, that’s related too. You see, uh, when I got attacked, well,” I stuttered to a stop. “Those fangs you saw weren’t
fake
.” Ava stared at me, and I rubbed my hands over my face. “I know this sounds nuts, but...I was turned into a vampire.”

Ava’s eyes widened, and then she burst out laughing.

“Alright,
Aly
,” she said, still chuckling. “Now care to tell me what’s really going on?”

“That is what’s really going on,” I said, frozen. She was laughing at me? I’d expected concern, or maybe anger, but not laughter.

She looked at me over the rim of her mug as she raised it to her mouth.

“You’re not joking, are you?” she said after a moment. “
Aly
, you need help. That little stunt you pulled in your apartment—I should have called someone then, shouldn’t I? Oh, god” she trailed off, no longer looking at me.

“It wasn’t a stunt, Ava,” I said, standing. “Look.” And then I bent over the couch I’d been sitting on and picked it up, cautiously lifting it over my head so I wouldn’t accidentally hit her walls. After I’d held it aloft for a few moments, I just as cautiously set it down, and then returned to my seat. Ava simply stared, her hand frozen midway to lowering her mug onto its coaster, and didn’t make a sound until I was once again settled.

“How did you do that? Are you taking steroids or something?” she finally asked, in a voice that was barely audible.

“C’mon, if I was taking steroids I’d have giant muscles. Becoming a vampire means gaining incredible strength and speed almost instantaneously. No drug works like that.”

“This makes no sense," she muttered. "No sense. You need help.”

I stood again and moved towards her, hoping to reassure her.

“No!” she
screeched,
her volume suddenly at screeching levels. “Back off. Don’t you come near
me.
”

I sank to the couch, in shock.

“I didn’t want to scare you, Ava. I just didn’t want this lie between us, not when we’ve always been so close. Please, tell me what I can do to make this right between us again.”

“You can get out,” she said, coldly clipping each word.

She raised one arm and pointed to the door without looking at me. I stood, numb, and moved towards it, my limbs as sullen in following her request as they’d been in following Cesar’s two nights before. I couldn’t believe she’d actually throw me out like this. I felt so naïve, so foolish for believing the truth would literally set us free. If I’d been smart, I would have asked for Tom’s help in coming up with a convincing lie that might save our friendship. What good was the truth if the truth destroyed everything you cared about?