Vampire Addiction (16 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four: Banished

Gertie returned to the Angelis apartment just before dawn and quietly slipped into bed. She slept for two hours before she was awakened by Mamá’s voice telling the girls that one of them should go to the shower.

It was like the events of last night hadn’t happened.

But as soon as she saw the looks on Babá and Mamá’s faces at the breakfast table, she knew what had happened had been more than a bad dream. Mamá handed her a scarf and told her to quickly cover her stamp.

Nikita came to the table just as Gertie had put on the scarf. “Where’s Phoebe?”

“She’s not well,” Babá said. “She’s staying home today.”

Nikita looked at Gertie’s scarf with suspicion, but said nothing.

During the car ride to school, the other three teens wanted to know where Gertie and Jeno had gone during the dance.

“We looked all over for you,” Nikita said. “I was worried.”

“We all were,” Hector added.

Gertie couldn’t decide whether to tell them the truth, or to pretend as though nothing had happened. She chose the truth.

“I thought I was helping,” she said, after she had finished relaying what had happened. “And I did learn something important. I know why Phoebe can’t speak.”

“What?” Klaus asked. “What do you mean?”

“What are you talking about?” Nikita asked beside her in the back seat.

“Phoebe has a psychic connection to Damien,” Gertie said. “She can sense him. And he’s not in a coma. He’s fully aware of his surroundings, of his entrapment. He’s miserable and terrified, and Phoebe can constantly sense that. His silent screams make her silent.”

At first the car was deathly quiet. Gertie supposed they were all in shock. Moments later, Nikita burst into tears. Klaus did, too.

“Poor Damien,” Hector said, as he turned into the school. “Are you sure?”

“I’m absolutely positive,” Gertie said. “I could feel it through Phoebe’s mind.”

“Poor Phoebe! Poor Damien!” Nikita wailed—her face twisted in utter grief. “Oh, Hector. Please take me home. I can’t go to school today. I just can’t!”

“Me, too,” Klaus said through his tears. “God, this is unbearable. My baby brother and sister have been in constant agony for three years. Pull over. I’m going to be sick.”

Hector did as he was asked. First he pulled over, and then he took the Angelis kids back home. Gertie and Hector followed them up to the apartment. None of them would go to school today.

When they walked inside, Mamá and Babá turned from where they sat together on the sofa.

“What are you doing home?” Babá shouted with surprise.

“Why aren’t you in school?” Mamá climbed to her feet.

Nikita ran into her mother’s arms. Klaus fell onto the nearby chair.

“Gertie told us about last night,” Hector explained.

Mamá narrowed her eyes at Gertie. “So it wasn’t enough to upset Babá and Phoebe and me? You had to upset them as well?”

“You don’t understand,” Nikita said. “She found out why Phoebe can’t talk.”

Mamá’s eyes widened with surprise. “What?”

Babá jumped to his feet. “Is this true?”

Gertie wished she could disappear. She had promised Jeno not to let Mrs. Angelis know the truth about Damien’s suffering.

Gertie shook her head. “No. I mean, I’m not sure.”

Now Klaus was on his feet. “You said you were absolutely positive.”

“So which is it?” Nikita asked. “Do you know or not?”

“What did she say?” Mamá asked Nikita.

“Don’t tell her,” Gertie said. “It will only hurt her.”

“She needs to know,” Klaus said. “Both of my parents need to know, so they can do something about it.”

“Tell me,” Babá demanded.

“I’m really not as sure as I thought,” Gertie back tracked. “It might have been a hallucination. The vampire virus might have been messing with my mind.”

“Now
that
I believe,” Babá said. “Which is exactly why it’s time to get you away from here.”

Now it was Gertie’s turn to burst into tears. “Please, don’t make me go. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“That’s what you said last time,” Mamá pointed out. “This is for your own good. We warned you about addiction.”

“I’m not addicted!” Gertie shouted. “I was trying to help you. All of you. I wanted to find out what was wrong with Phoebe.”

“But we already know what is wrong,” Babá said. “We know what she went through the night of the fire. We didn’t need you to dredge up those memories for her again.”

“Gertie said Phoebe has a psychic connection to Damien,” Klaus said. “She can sense him.”

“That’s impossible!” Mamá shouted. “And I’ve heard enough. There will be no more discussion about this.”

“Nikita, go and help Gertie pack her bags,” Babá said. “We’ve already called the Morgans. Her tickets for her way home have been purchased.”

“You leave tonight,” Mamá added. “This is better for you and for us. I hope you understand.”

Gertie did not understand. She and Nikita went to their room, where they hugged and cried in each other’s arms.

“Why didn’t you tell them the truth?” Nikita asked. “Or
was
that the truth?”

“I promised Jeno I wouldn’t tell your mother. He said it would break her heart.”

“She needs to know. We have to help Phoebe and Damien.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

They sat on their beds, facing each other. “I don’t want to go back, Nikita.”

“What choice do you have?”

“I could run away, here in Athens. Maybe Jeno could help me.”

“He has no way of helping. He might be able to protect you from other vampires, but he can’t get you food or shelter.”

“What about Hector?” Gertie asked, hesitantly.

Nikita didn’t reply at first. She got up, paced the floor, and wringed her hands.

Finally, Nikita said, “Maybe Hector
can
help. His mom is rarely home.”

“Ask him to come in here for a minute,” Gertie said.

“What excuse will I give?”

“I can’t reach something up in the closet?”

Nikita frowned, but she left and returned a moment later with Hector. Klaus was on his heels.

“Close the door,” Gertie whispered.

Hector and Klaus glanced first at Gertie and then at Nikita, waiting for an explanation.

“She doesn’t want to go home,” Nikita said.

“I’m not going back,” Gertie said. “I don’t have a life in New York to go home to. My parents couldn’t care less about me. I need to prove to Mamá and Babá that I belong here.” Tears poured down her face. She had never loved her own parents as much as she loved Mr. and Mrs. Angelis.

“I don’t think we can change their minds,” Klaus said. “They are angry and hurt. And they’re worried about you getting more and more addicted.”

“I’m not addicted!” Gertie hissed. Then she covered her mouth, hoping her voice hadn’t carried into the other room.

The four teens waited and listened for a backlash from the adults, and when none came, they turned back to their conversation.

“Can you hide me at your place?” Gertie asked Hector. “Just long enough for me to convince Mamá and Babá to let me stay?”

Hector’s face turned bright red. “I’m not sure if my mom will allow it.”

“We don’t have to tell her,” Gertie said.

“I don’t like all this lying,” Nikita groaned.

“Me either,” Klaus added. “Why don’t you go home for a few weeks, give my parents time to cool off? Then maybe we can convince them to let you come back next semester, after Christmas. I think they would let you come back, because they don’t want us to get kicked out of the American school.”

“And because they love you,” Nikita added. “They’re just hurt.”

“That’s right,” Hector said. “Just go for a little while, and then come back.”

Tears flooded Gertie’s eyes and spilled down her cheeks. They didn’t understand. They had no idea how she felt. They didn’t get that
they
had become her family, and asking her to leave was breaking her heart.

Hector’s expression softened, and he moved closer to her. “I suppose a day or two would be all right.”

Gertie threw her arms around his neck and allowed all her fear and anxiety to pour out through her sobs. Hector held her for many minutes as she cried onto his shirt.

“I’ll offer to take you to the bus station,” Hector said gently. “We have a guest room, where you can stay.”

Gertie turned to Nikita and threw her arms around her neck, just as she had Hector’s. “Thank you for helping me. You’re like a sister to me. I couldn’t stand to leave you.”

Nikita hugged her back, tears spilling from her eyes now, too. “We just have to be careful. We can’t hurt Mamá and Babá. They’re too fragile.”

“I know.” Gertie pulled away. “I promise to be careful.”

Gertie went up to Klaus and hugged him. “Please don’t tell on me. Please?”

“Okay, but just for a few days,” he said, hugging her awkwardly. “I don’t like to lie.”

“I know, Klaus.” She pulled away to meet his gaze. “And I appreciate that. I don’t like to, either. I just need a couple of days to sort things out.”

Nikita, Klaus, and Hector helped Gertie pack and get her bags ready near the door. After lunch, Hector went out to his car and got his ukulele, and they passed the rest of the day singing songs together in Nikita’s room. Gertie couldn’t be more grateful.

Hours later, before supper, Mamá knocked on the door and asked for a word alone with Gertie.

The other three teens left the room, and Mamá sat on Nikita’s bed, across from Gertie.

Gertie couldn’t even look at her. She clenched her teeth, trying to fight off the tears, but they flowed down her cheeks anyway.

“I’m sorry it has come to this,” Mamá said. “Maybe our city is too hard for outsiders to navigate. It’s too ancient. We have too many secrets.”

Gertie wanted to say that she wasn’t an outsider. In the past few months, this had become her city, too—her only true home. “Mamá, I’m sorry.”

“I know that, Gertoula. But this is for the best. You need to get away from this unhealthy climate. Maybe one day you can come back and visit, no?”

How could Mamá let her go? Gertie felt in that moment that maybe she had come to love Mamá and Babá more than they had come to love her. The tears poured from her eyes like a waterfall.

“Please don’t make me leave,” Gertie begged.

Mamá sat beside Gertie and put her warm, comforting arms around her. Gertie buried her face in Mamá’s shoulder and breathed in her smell, wishing she could stay in those arms forever. Did Nikita and Klaus realize how lucky they were to have such a loving mother? Gertie wished so badly that Marta Angelis had been her mother, too. She wished she could open her eyes and discover that life had been a bad dream and she had really belonged to this lovely family all along.

A roach darted across the floor, and Gertie didn’t even flinch. She would take this roach-infested apartment over her luxurious mansion in New York any day.

“I’m afraid I’ve worried your mother,” Mamá said. “She said you haven’t kept in touch with her at all since you left, and she thinks it’s best that you come home.”

Gertie bit her lip. That was just like her mother—to blame their lack of communication on Gertie. Well, communication was a two-way street. When had her mother last texted her? It had been Gertie’s first night in Greece, when she was on the bus from Patras. Three months ago.

“I’ll miss you so much,” Gertie muttered through wracking sobs. “I don’t care about my mother and father. I care about you and Babá.”

“Oh, please don’t say such a thing, kouretsi mou!” Mamá hugged her more tightly. “That would break your mother’s heart.”

Gertie almost laughed, but she was crying too hard. She wanted to say, “Yeah. Right.” But she held her tongue. Instead, she said, “I promise to stay away from Jeno. I’ll have nothing to do with the vampires.”

“I know you won’t, because I’m removing you from the temptation.” Mamá pulled away to look into Gertie’s crying eyes. “This really is as much for your own good as it is Phoebe’s.”

“How is making me leave good for Phoebe?” Gertie asked.

“You must understand that I cannot risk her being reminded of her trauma. That’s what happens every time she sees your tramp stamp.”

Gertie covered her throat and started to speak, but Mamá continued, “She was making such good progress. And now we are back to square one.”

Gertie threw her arms around Mamá’s waist and cried harder than she’d ever cried in her life. “I’m so sorry!”

Mamá held her quietly for many minutes, and then she said, “We will keep in touch, no? And one day you will come back for a visit.”

When Mamá stood up to leave the room, Gertie noticed that she had begun to cry, too. “We will miss you, Gertoula.” Mamá fled the room.