Chapter 7 – Lorianna
The soothing melody of a woman’s voice lures me from the depths of sleep, but when I sit up in bed, my mother isn’t there.
Birdsong flows in through the cracked window as easily as light, which streams across the loft bedroom. Long shadows extend from the stacks of boxes, leaving shadowy figures along the floor that stare up at me like a captive audience. Sweat clings to my spine from tossing and turning in my sleep, and my pulse quickens when I don’t immediately recognize my surroundings.
I peel back the curtain from the window over the bed, and a forest of ancient oaks covers the distance around the little home I’ve found myself in. My aunties.
I’m safe, far away from it all, and I have nothing to panic about.
“I can’t believe I slept until morning…”
I rub the sleep out of my eyes and let out an exhausted sigh. After sleeping for that long, I should feel more relaxed and closer to normal, but a vein throbs in my head. I still feel like I haven’t slept in days.
On the other side of the room, the curious painting of me stares back with mysterious eyes. She’s older than me by a few years. Sunlight illuminates her face and hair, giving her a spectral, otherworldly quality. Compared to her, I feel so small. So juvenile. That woman wears confidence like she owns the world. She lives a life of joy and freedom, and here I am, my heart tainted by sorrow and uncertainty.
How do I get from here to there? What did my mom imagine for me?
The wind curls through the window, brushing across my shoulder. There’s a powerful aura in this room, like comfort and reassurance linger in the air. I want to imagine that a part of my mother’s soul clings to these paintings, haunting me from every brushstroke and guiding me with her light. Marionne and Samira are painted onto another wall, close together like sisters, but Carmen herself is noticeably absent. They’re surrounded by oak leaves swirling in the wind, like powerful monarchs, and even the spotted deer and the squirrels in the background pay them absolute attention.
The paintings tell a story, but I don’t know what it is.
I wrap my arms around myself, wishing they were my mom’s. I know so little about her that it hurts just to look at these paintings, knowing she’s the one who made them. A shuddering breath escapes my lungs. I hope my aunts can fill in some blanks about my mother while I’m staying with them.
I shower and change into fresh clothes, some loose but well-fitting jeans and a striped, long-sleeved shirt to keep me warm as the weather gets cooler. On my way down the stairs, the glorious, savory smell of bacon hits my nose, and I come into the kitchen to find Samira and Marionne by the stove. They move in perfect synchrony, cracking and frying eggs on the griddle, then transporting them and the other components of the meal onto plates.
My mouth waters from a sudden, intense hunger. I don’t usually have a huge appetite in the morning, so I must be recovering from being bitten by Alex.
The thought of him makes my heart clench, but before I let my thoughts fall down that hole, Samira turns around with two plates in hand and spots me lingering by the threshold. “Good morning, love. I hope you brought your appetite with you this morning.”
“I’m starving. I’d eat just about anything right now.”
“You were so exhausted yesterday. And to go to bed without supper! Here, have this helping. Eat up, eat up.” She shoves the plate into my hands.
“I didn’t mean to sleep so long. I’m sorry I missed the soup!”
“There’s plenty left over, and it’s long been my opinion that soup is almost always better the next day. You’re welcome to try some for lunch.”
She sweeps me toward the table, where I sit and take my first bite of eggs, but the salty taste makes me hungrier, and I wolf it down. Marionne turns off the stove and comes to the table with several cups hooked on her fingers, the teapot and another plate of food in her hands, to join me and Samira.
“Nothing perks me up in the morning like a cup of tea.” Marionne places the cups down and begins to pour. “You look like you slept well, my dear.”
“It was like I time traveled to morning.” I blush a little when I realize I’ve finished my breakfast before Marionne has finished pouring the tea. “Thank you for everything. I hope I’m not too much of a bother.”
“A bother? Nonsense, my dear, how could you ever be a bother?”
I fidget in place, playing with my fork against the almost entirely clean plate. “I never meant for so much time to pass without coming to see you. Life just… carried me away, with school and everything.”
“As life tends to do, no doubt.” Samira chuckles and adds a crack of fresh black pepper to her eggs. “You’re still so young, with so much to learn. It’s only right that you’re out there living your own life instead of worrying about us old folk. Living that big university life with no time for your aunties anymore. So independent. But you know, we’re always here to support you, no matter what. We’re so proud of who you’ve become.”
“I thought you would be disappointed in me for not keeping in touch and that you might not want me here. I didn’t know what I was going to do if you turned me away. I just… I just don’t want you to feel like I’ve come here just because I need something from you.” Finding the courage, I look between Samira’s and Marionne’s loving faces. “I want to get to know you better, too.”
Marionne grins behind her teacup. “Why would we turn you away? We are all just herbs in the universe’s garden, beautiful and unique, with our own needs and desires. Fate has a strange way of bringing people together, and the timing is always exactly when it needs to be. No time has been lost, you see, as life is as life is, and it flows at its own pace. We always knew it was inevitable that we would see each other again soon.”
My heart swells, and my emotions take hold. It’s been so long since I’ve seen them, let alone visited their home, and they’ve welcomed me without question. I need to tell them what’s happened, don’t I? A thousand different explanations gather in my throat, but I don’t know where to begin.
“You’ve always been so wise, Auntie.”
“That’s what all these years are good for, huh? Least I can do is pass on some to you. We are so delighted to have you with us, my dear. But how are you doing really? I imagine you must not have a lot of time while you’re in university full time and working toward taking over that huge company of your father’s.”
“It’s not easy, I admit.” I startle a laugh out of myself. “It feels good to say that out loud. There are days where I’m so caught up in work and studying that I’m up all night, and since Dad’s been in the hospital, I’ve also spent a lot of time with Alex, my dad’s right-hand man, working on strategies to compensate for my father’s absence.”
“You won’t have to worry about any of that while you’re here, I promise. Take time for yourself. That big old company can figure out how to put out its own fires for a few days at least. You deserve it,” Samira says while cutting a piece of sausage. “You should know that we did call your dad’s lawyer last night, and he is investigating the issue. He should be released later today. It’s not right that he’s stuck there instead of resting at home.”
A rush of warmth pours through me, and I smile. “Really? I’m so relieved. He hates it there, and I miss having him around.”
“It warms my heart to see you two getting on so well in life. It’s been hard for everyone since we lost your mother, but for the two of you… He’s done well with you, even without much of a woman’s touch.”
“I couldn’t ask for a better dad. I just wish…” I chew on my lip, then sip on my tea to debate what to say next, letting the warm bitterness of the English Breakfast with a splash of milk and honey soothe the anxiety growing in my stomach. “Am I crazy for thinking taking over the company, all these expectations, it’s just too much?”
Marionne’s eyes widen. “Of course not, my dear! This is a lot of responsibility for any person, let alone someone as young as you. You still have the whole world in front of you, but you’re being pushed out there to chase someone else’s dreams instead of your own. That’s always going to be hard to stomach.”
I lift my gaze to hers. “How do you know that’s how I feel?”
“We’re family, love. You might be older and wiser now, but we know you. A stuffy office isn’t your calling.” She sighs, and her expression is pensive. “I’ve warned your father before that if he pushed you too hard, you might become unhappy, and that would be such a terrible fate for a kind, bright soul like you.”
“And it’s not too late to change your mind,” Samira adds. “If you need more time away or want us to back you to your father about pursuing another path once all is said and done, we will. No questions asked.”
“I…” My mouth opens to speak, but I’m so stunned by everything they’ve said that I don’t know how to respond.
Even before I learned about the vampires controlling the Monroe Investment Group, my soul felt strained from studying in a field that I don’t find that interesting and I’m not skilled at. But I did it, do it, because I love my dad and understand that he wants to keep his legacy in the family. A part of me has always wanted to become CEO just to prove that I could, that I’m good enough, even if I didn’t truly want it. But a larger part of me hurts at the thought of having to live that as my life forever.
I’ve thought many times about how I could run the company for a few years, build on his legacy, and then end up selling the company to pursue my dreams instead. Open that dance studio, travel the world, do some real good to help people out there on the bottom like my dad once was.
I’ve never breathed a word about that to anyone, though.
Things have changed even more now that I know the world isn’t as it seems. Do I really want to be CEO of a company secretly puppeted by vampires? If I took over MIG just to make my dad happy, would I still be able to get out after a few years, or would I be stuck there forever because I know the truth?
Everything I’ve faced these past days, all the uncertainty, pain, fear, and implications for my future, drip into a water balloon in my chest. But there are too many worries, and more keep coming. The membrane of the balloon thins with every emotion, pushing pressure out into my chest. It hurts to breathe, as if my lungs are on the verge of eruption.
“I don’t want to jump into any decisions,” I say instead, “but I appreciate your support, I really do. Most people I try to share my grievances with tell me I should be happy that I’ll be—”
The telephone on the wall rings, cutting me off.
Samira frowns. “Sorry, dear. Just one moment. Let me see who it is.”
She picks up the phone from the receiver, leaving me to contemplate how to approach telling them what really happened the other night. It feels so safe around my aunties that I feel like I could tell them anything, but is it too much to tell them about vampires? Would they believe me?
Marionne finishes chewing a bite of bacon and turns to me. “Do you have any plans for while you’re in Thousand Oaks? Anything you want to see or do while you’re here?”
My mind jumps eagerly at the change in topic. “I’d like to do a few hikes, spend a lot more time in the woods and with nature. There weren’t a lot of opportunities to do that while living in LA and with my schedule.”
She nods approvingly. “I find the woods give me the strongest sense of peace and relaxation. When I’m surrounded by green life, it’s a reminder that I’m alive, too.”
“Is that why you live all the way out here in the forest?”
She titters, but anything she might have said after that is erased when Samira lets out a pained cry.
“That’s not possible,” she says aggressively into the phone. “He was—”
She falls silent as she listens to the speaker on the line. Marionne wears a worried crinkle on her brow, and all those shades of anxiety start to creep back into my stomach. I have a sense that whatever is happening, it’s not good.
And then Samira’s shoulders shake. “How? What happened?” she says, although her voice cracks with emotion. “Thank you. If you—if you don’t mind, please—”
Marionne springs to her feet and flies to her sister’s side. Just as she hangs up the phone, Samira breaks down into horrible, gut-wrenching sobs that make my mind and body go on high alert. The two sisters cling to each other as if they are their only lifelines in the world while Samira sobs.
“There, there, sweet sister. Whatever it is, I’m sure it will be fine,” Marionne murmurs to her sister. “What’s happened? Can you tell me?”
Samira tries to speak several times, but every time she starts, the words are sucked into another vacuum of tears. Just watching her cry has my eyes burning like they’re under siege, ready to join her at any moment. All the anxiety and fear that my aunts managed to soothe away comes rushing back, and I don’t know what to do but try and stay strong until I know what’s happening.
“Lorianna, honey, let’s all go sit in the living room,” Samira sniffles. Marionne helps her over to the couch, and I hesitate to follow them.
I stand on the threshold while the two sisters whisper to each other, and Marionne’s concerned expression shifts before my very eyes from concern to a haunting grimness. Unlike her sister, whatever news has reached them causes her instead to slip on a stoic mask instead of breaking down, too.
Of the two of them, I’d assumed that Marionne would be the more emotional sister, as she’s so kind-hearted and empathetic, but maybe I was wrong.
Marionne pats the seat between her and Samira, and I take my place at their sides. After Samira’s initial outburst, she’s calmed a little bit, but she still wears a pained expression.
Marionne takes my hands in hers, but her hand is shaking. “I’m so sorry, Lorianna… but, last night, at the hospital… Gilbert had another heart attack.”
My heart squeezes, my mind and body stopping in time. “No. He’s—he’s okay, right?”
“Sweetheart…” Her eyes gloss over. “The doctors and nurses tried to save him, but they couldn’t.”
I hear her words. They enter my ears, and my brain understands what they mean. But a dark shadow flits over my vision, making everything seem hazy and impossible. Unreal. I’m dreaming, I have to be. This is just a horrible nightmare, and any moment, I’ll wake up.
“You’re wrong,” I whisper. “He can’t be—”
Trembling, I pinch myself, hoping to wake up from this madness. I twist and leave a red mark on my wrist, but nothing happens.
My breaths come quicker. My pulse races. This is real? All of it?
I shakily drink the rest of my tea, trying to calm myself. “No, no, I—I saw him yesterday. He looked great. He was healthy. He was getting better—how could he—”
I can’t finish the words because now I’m crying, too. The sound is distant, like I’ve disassociated from my body and they’re really someone else’s tears, someone else’s pain, but I can’t delude myself that much. I know that’s me. My pain. I can feel it like a knife in my chest, even if I don’t want to. Even if it shouldn’t be real.
I clutch the teacup to my chest and bury my face in my hands, and it feels like I’m trapped underwater. “This can’t be happening.”
I hear Samira speak, but not the words. A warm hand squeezes my shoulder and pulls me into her, and I meld into my aunt’s side like a child. All of me, all the strength I’ve built up since the attack, crumbles inside and out of me in an instant. All I can feel is that pain tearing through me, shredding my heart all over again. She clutches me closer to her, her arms a sturdy tree of support as I fall apart.
“He’s gone… how can he be gone?” I cry, but she doesn’t answer. How could she?
Everything we talked about yesterday flashes through my mind. All of his regrets and passions and everything he wishes he could have done for me but wasn’t able to. Promises for the future. The grandchildren he’ll never meet because he’s been taken from me.
My dad lived through so much. He was a champion who survived poverty and monsters of the human and immortal varieties. He brokered a deal with a vampire who promised to make it better, to give him a future. And he did.
But now, that’s been taken away.
I wish Samira’s and Marionne’s arms were my dad’s. That last, powerful embrace he gave me after we realized the nurses and security wouldn’t let me take him home. That he was stuck there, alone.
“I left him there,” I sob again. “I should have—I should have fought harder—”
“It’s not your fault, my dear,” Marionne murmurs. “You couldn’t have changed this.”
“I didn’t spend enough time with him. If I—if I’d been less focused on school, and my boyfriend, and had more time with my dad, I could have—I could have helped him. Made him better.”
“You did everything you could. You called him every day and kept his spirits high. You tried to get him out, but it would have taken the lawyers more time.”
“We were supposed to have so much more time together still. How can I forgive myself for not using what time we did have?”
“By treasuring the time you did have, my dear,” Samira says softly from the other side of the couch. “Life is sometimes inexplicable. Heart attacks… they can be so unexpected.”
The sound of Samira’s voice makes me brave. If she can overcome this feeling of drowning, so can I. At least for a few moments. I poke my head from under the tidal wave of grief and latch onto anger instead. It burns through me, hot and ready to burn whoever it touches.
“But was it a heart attack?” I sniffle and pull away from my aunts to stare at them straight on. They both give me looks of confusion. “This is wrong. After everything he’s been through, after—” I cut myself short. “It’s too much of a coincidence.”
“What are you implying, sweetheart?” Samira asks.
“He knew something was going to happen. I had a feeling when I was in the hospital that he wasn’t telling me the whole truth. He told me not to worry, but I could see he was afraid. I think he might have been—it’s possible that—”
“His death wasn’t natural,” Marionne finishes for me.
I nod rapidly, and my whole body shakes. I roll forward into myself, bringing my feet onto the cushion so I can wrap my arms around them. “He told me about his deal, how he built his business empire. The men he worked with, they were—they were… You’ll never believe me.”
“Don’t say that, my dear. We’re well aware that your father led an unusual life, with many enemies, but—”
“He’s being manipulated by vampires!” I blurt.
As soon as Marionne’s eyes widen with fear, I realize I’ve made a mistake.
Oh, God, I shouldn’t have said that. They’re going to think I’m insane, too.
But now that that word has spilled out of me, everything else comes as well. I need to explain, to make them understand.
“I know it sounds crazy, but I saw them with my own eyes,” I say in a rush. “One of them d-drank my blood, and I have—I have the scars to prove it.” I pull up my sleeve to show Marionne and Samira, holding out my wrist, but I let out a pained gasp when I see the smooth, unmarred flesh where Alex bit me. “It’s gone! I swear, just yesterday, the scars were still there!” My hands wrap around the teacup, trying to quell the shaking, but I can’t. “I’m not crazy, I know I’m not. I know what I saw and what I felt. The vampires killed him—what else would he have been afraid of? You have to believe me.”
“Shh, shh, my dear.” Marionne hugs my shoulders, giving me a feeling of soothing compression. “You don’t have to prove anything.”
I stare at her, my mouth hanging open. “You… you believe me?”
She nods gravely. “I hate to say it, my dear, but yes. We know all about the creatures of the night and many other forces beyond our understanding working out there in the world. We’ve known for a long time the true business dealings your father is involved in, and now that he is gone, we must be very careful about how we proceed. Your safety could depend on it.”
My brow scrunches, and for the first time, a worm of fear wriggles through me. “What are you saying?”
“If your father is dead, the vampires must have decided that the cons of staying in business with him outweigh any benefits. I don’t know much about his dealings in particular, but I know vampires don’t like loose ends, and to them, I expect that’s exactly what you look like now. Maybe if you hadn’t learned the truth, you could have escaped… but no. You know about them, so you’re in danger now, too. Unless the vampire hunters get to your father’s associates first, you must be very careful in the coming weeks.”
“I… I understand,” I murmur. “And I agree. If there’s any chance he was murdered, I need to play it safe.”
“You’ll need to stay home as much as possible. Do you have a phone?” Samira asks.
“Not really.” I shrug. “I left it in LA, so it’s as good as lost.”
“Let’s keep it that way for a while. No phones, no technology that could be used to track your whereabouts. Until we know you’re safe, it’s better to stay disconnected. Okay?”
She gives me a look like she’s worried about how I’ll react, but I laugh through my tears. “It’s fine, really. I’ve gone without it for a day now, and I feel great. It’s not like I really have anyone to text anyway. I just wish I’d sent a message to my best friends before I disappeared on them. I don’t want them to worry.”
“We can see about somehow getting a message to them to make sure they know you’re okay. Let’s worry about that once we have fewer grave considerations, hmm?”
I relax into the couch, and Marionne and Samira lean into me, holding me close against them. For a while, we’re all quiet and thinking, dwelling on the news of the morning. It feels like a huge burden has been lifted off my chest in not having to keep the vampires a secret from my aunts, but as soon as that burden was lifted, a giant cold fist of a vampire lord reached into my chest and crushed my heart.
We might never know for sure, but my heart tells me that my dad’s death is linked to everything that’s happened. And if it weren’t for him sending me to my auntie’s house, I would be so lost right now, possibly even dead, too.
The huge question in the back of my mind now is whether Alex was involved. Just the merest thought of that possibility makes me tear up again, and I suck in a shuddering, pained breath and bury my face in Samira’s shoulder.
“It’s all right,” she murmurs. “We’re here for you, whatever you need. Cry all you’d like, sweet girl.”
I close my eyes, remembering Alex’s lips on my wrist, the sharp pulse of his fangs draining blood from my veins. It was what I imagined the most intimate feelings and sensations would feel like if they converged into my body all at once. For as long as I’ve known him, he’s been kind to me, if mostly distant, until these last few years, where he’s become a larger presence in my life. Knowing what he is now, I realize how much power he’s always had over me, but he’s never exercised that power. I’ve never felt manipulated or used by him. He’s always been forthcoming, honest, and protective.
Even my dad told me I could trust Alex with my life. But that came with the caveat of how everything might change.
My mind flickers through a sideshow of images of my time with Alex. Gentle looks and even the most hostile ones, long before we got to know each other. His soft hands, his deep piercing eyes, moments where we laughed and smiled.
But even remembering the moments when he was most monstrous, like when he was about to kill the man who attacked me at the club, my soul tells me I still have a strong understanding of who he is. Being a vampire hasn’t changed anything; he’s always been himself except for withholding that fact.
He’s always been—
I suck in a huge breath as the world falls away around me, and I’m mentally shoved into a dark space. I’m so small. A child, tumbling through the darkness, screaming in terror.
Don’t look, honey,my mother’s voice echoes through the blackness.
The world spins, giving me vertigo and motion sickness from rushing through the darkness with no sense of up or down. The sound of crunching metal and shattered glass rings in my ears.
Screams.
My mother’s screams.
Mine.
Childlike, fierce, shrieking so loud my eardrums pop.
A rush of terror sears through my veins, and all my grief and fear about my dad, about my life, amplifies tenfold. I’ll never hear his stupid dad jokes again. I’ll never listen to him run numbers under his breath. We’ll never go to the park and pretend we’re on vacation. He’s joined the halls of the missing like my mom, whose voice still comes to me in my sleep, who I miss every fucking day because that hole in my heart can never be filled.
My screams echo in my ears. My real ears, not my imaginary ones, pulled from a memory of a car crash I don’t remember being in.
And then a face. Hazy, indistinguishable, and yet I know it’s a man’s arms wrapping around me and pulling me from that wreckage, cradling me like I’m precious. Telling me it will be okay. The last thing I see is those dark, piercing green eyes. Soft with care, anxiety, hardened with pain of their own.
Alex?
My eyes flash open. Hands clenched around the teacup, it strains beneath my grip. An inferno rages inside me, burning me from the inside out, and its roars, all that agony, that loss, longing, and fire just explodes.
The porcelain shatters in my hands. Sharp fragments slice my palms and fly in every direction, embedding in walls, ceiling, and the floor. A flicker of green light whirls around Marionne, and newfound terror pierces my soul. The energy burns out, the fire bleeding away like it was never there.
My lungs heave. Sweat covers my face. “What the fuck!” My hands are bleeding, but there’s no pain. In horror, I rise to my feet, but my legs are weak, and I almost fall to the ground before Marionne grabs me and tugs me back onto the couch. “D—did I just—did I hurt you—what just…”
Tears blur my eyes, and I can’t see a thing, just the comforting shapes of my aunts beside me.
“We’re fine, my dear,” Samira says, her voice notably brighter than before. “Surprised, but in such a wonderful way.”
“I—I don’t understand what’s happening. Am I losing it?”
“You’ve awakened, my sweet girl. It seems, after all this time, you’ve been hiding a secret from us—and yourself. You’re a witch just like us.”