48. Taking Back Control
Chapter 48
Taking Back Control
Rancho Bautista del Murciélago—Around the same time
U pon rising, Henry went straight to the kitchen when he sensed Cerissa wasn’t home, and, knowing she’d accompanied Karen to the oncologist, heated a pot of water and supped alone.
Since she planned on being gone all day, she must have taken Bear to the dog-sitter. Luis doubled as her employee and Bear’s caretaker. Sometimes Bear rode along, accompanying Luis on the blood delivery run. Then he’d return the dog just before dusk. When Cerissa was home, the dog greeted Henry first, scampering down the staircase faster than her, wiggling and dancing at Henry’s feet, eagerly assaulting him for attention and affection.
He missed both of their greetings.
Taking a fresh donor bag out of the refrigerator, he dunked it into the warm water, then poured the scarlet liquid into his favorite mug and took his place at the kitchen table, scrolling through his winery emails. He glanced up when Cerissa walked in a moment later and collapsed onto the chair opposite him. She looked exhausted, like the weight of the world rested on her shoulders.
Moving to her side, he hugged her. “How is Karen doing?”
“She’s… She asked us to come to her house after I eat dinner. She wants to tell Rolf about the newest developments on her own and then have our support. I can’t tell you any of the details yet. She asked me not to.”
That didn’t sound good. “I see.” He resumed drinking his dark wine and changed the subject. “Where is Bear?”
“Still with Luis. I phoned and asked him to keep Bear overnight.”
She made a quick sandwich and sat across from him again, and he listened to her talk about her day, at least, what she could share. Once finished, she took her plate over to the kitchen sink.
He scooted his chair back. “Come here.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his head against her stomach. “I love you. You know that, don’t you?”
“I do.”
He pulled her onto his lap, brushed her hair aside, and cuddled her. “How soon do we leave for our meeting with Karen?”
Cerissa slumped against him. “Now, probably. If we delay too long, Karen will fall asleep. I don’t want to disturb her if she does. Oh, and we need to bring a case of dark wine to Rolf.”
“I’ll make sure it’s in the trunk.” Taking out his phone, he texted Rolf:
We’ll be there shortly
Dots appeared on screen as Rolf typed, and then his answer popped in:
Hurry
C erissa slid out of the Viper’s passenger seat at the same time Marcus arrived. Henry closed the car door for her, then the three walked together to the front door and rang the bell.
“I’m surprised to see you here, Marcus,” Cerissa said. And she was. They were there to provide moral support after Karen explained the tougher road ahead to Rolf. But Karen wouldn’t typically include Marcus in such a situation.
He shrugged. “I’m surprised too. Rolf asked for my help but didn’t specify why.”
So, Rolf had invited him. Why would Rolf need a lawyer tonight?
Uneasiness tightened Cerissa’s stomach.
Rolf opened the door. “Come in.” He led the group into the living room. Karen was relaxing on the couch. Rolf offered chairs to all the guests and then sat next to her. Aside from looking fatigued from today’s trip to Fresno, she looked pretty good.
“Thank you for coming,” Rolf said. “Karen has something to say, then I do.”
Cerissa shifted in her seat at his formal tone. What was going on?
“I saw the oncologist today.” Karen wrapped her hands together in her lap, twisting her fingers nervously. “The cancer continues to grow and spread. He wanted to do more surgery, but Cerissa talked him into trying another round of chemo first. I, uh, I thought about it, and I’ve decided not to.”
Cerissa felt like she’d been sucked down a wind tunnel—her ears roared, and the room felt very far away. “Wh-what do you mean? You want to have surgery instead?”
“No operation.” Karen bit her lip. “No further treatment at all.”
Panic and terror flooded through Cerissa. “But Karen—”
Henry’s hand on her forearm stopped her. There was a warning in his touch.
“I appreciate what each of you has done for me.” Karen’s voice cracked, and she sniffed. “But I know I’m dying, and I don’t want to spend what little time I have left sick from chemo. It won’t—it won’t save me. I’ve included Marcus tonight because I want to modify my advance directive—no heroic measures. DNR.”
Do not resuscitate. Cerissa’s heart fractured into little pieces and tears flooded her eyes. She crossed the rug in a few steps and sat on the couch next to Karen, taking her hand. “Please don’t give up yet. I can’t know how hard it is, but if you abstain from vampire blood, it could change everything.”
Karen hugged her. “You’re the best friend I could hope for. When you aren’t taking care of me, you’re researching the medical journals for cures. Please know I appreciate what you’re doing, what you’re trying to do. But you’re focused on the disease and not me. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t take it. And even if I could, there’s no point. All the efforts in the world won’t save me.”
“But it’s only been a few weeks—”
“Another surgery and more chemo are only going to prolong things at best. During all that time, I’ll be in pain, tired, fighting a battle I can’t ultimately win. For me, that’s not living.” Karen cupped Cerissa’s face, catching the falling tears. “It’s not worth the extra time—not if I’m barely there for it.”
“But there’s a chance it could—”
“There isn’t.” Karen took a breath that bordered on a sob. “N-not anymore.”
Rolf brushed a hand across Karen’s back. “Take a breath, Liebling .” Then he made eye contact with Cerissa. “The doctor phoned after dusk. We spoke to him together. The cancer has spread to her liver.”
Cerissa physically jolted at the words.
Karen nodded and squeezed Cerissa’s hands. “You were so focused on convincing him to try again without surgery, he got too distracted to tell us the worst part. I’m stage four now. My five-year survival rate dropped to twenty percent.”
Cerissa gasped. “No.”
Karen hugged her again. “Bestie, you can’t control this. I know how badly you want to save me. I know you want to argue for the twenty percent. But I can feel the outcome here. I feel it in my body. There are times to let go. This is one of them. Please.”
Karen’s words echoed Agathe’s, and tears spilled down Cerissa’s cheeks. “I can’t.”
Henry was suddenly at her shoulder. “You can. You have the courage to allow Karen to make her own choice.”
The relief in Karen’s eyes gutted Cerissa.
“This is my decision. I’m asking all of you to respect it.”
Cerissa inhaled deeply to breathe past the tightness narrowing her throat. Okay, no treatment. But there was another option, one with a more guaranteed outcome, one they hadn’t discussed yet. “What if we ask the council for permission to turn you?”
Henry’s brow furrowed. “But who? Rolf is too young. Marcus is too young. Father Matt is too young.”
Cerissa focused on Henry, letting her eyes do the pleading. “There are other Hill vampires who are old enough. Surely one of them would volunteer.”
Karen held up her hand and stopped the argument. “I already told Rolf no.”
“Hear us out,” Cerissa said. “We can petition the town council to allow Rolf to turn you. They might say yes because he’s the mayor.”
“I love him too much to do that. Relationships between makers and their children rarely work out well. Besides, Henry’s right. He’s too young.”
Cerissa took her hand again. “I’ve read the research. Plenty of vampires his age have successfully turned—”
“And plenty of those failed, and their children didn’t make it through the change sane. I’m not taking that chance.”
Cerissa shot Henry a pleading glance. Her husband had already made and raised one child. Christine was thriving and acting independently in most things. By vampire standards, he had an excellent track record.
He blinked, then faced Karen. “Would you accept me as your maker?”
Karen shook her head. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re the last person I’d choose. You’re such a control freak that you make Cerissa look laissez-faire .”
Henry raised an eyebrow, then looked away.
Cerissa opened her mouth to defend her husband, but, recognizing Karen was right, shut it. As much as she wanted to push, compatibility mattered. But surely there was a vampire Karen found acceptable. “What about Gaea?”
“No. Not even Gaea.”
Rolf pressed Karen’s hand to his chest. “I’ve remained silent because this must be your choice. But pick anyone in the community over two hundred years. Or select someone from San Francisco. Or New York. Or even San Diego. And I’ll agree.”
“Rolf, I understand why you want me to do this, but I don’t know any in this community that I want a maker-child relationship with. And the town council won’t grant carte blanche to have a vampire from outside turn me, assuming I found one I wanted for my maker.”
Marcus cleared his throat. “I have a suggestion. Let Rolf submit the paperwork. As you grow closer to death, you might change your mind.”
“Even if I did, I don’t want to go through eternity looking like this.” She gestured at her bloated belly.
Cerissa had the answer for that concern, at least. “I can help if you decide you want to be a vampire.”
“How? I thought you couldn’t—” Karen hooked a stray strand behind her ear, appearing perplexed.
“A simple cosmetic surgery.” With Marcus there, she couldn’t be too specific. “Like when the Cutter injured you.”
“Like when…” Karen’s hazy eyes lit up. “Oh. Got it.”
A regenerating wand could take care of the minor cosmetic issues brought on by the original surgery and chemo without violating Agathe’s orders.
Karen paused, her eyes unfocused, like she was considering the option, but then shook her head again. “There is still no vampire that I want to subjugate my will to. I’m sorry, but I’ve decided to be the master of my own death.”
“You’re certain?” Rolf asked, but there was a finality in his tone.
Karen jutted out her chin. “I am.”
Cerissa felt the two words land and sink like stones. Her mind was suddenly silent.
Rolf rose and bent over to kiss Karen’s hand. “I’ll leave you alone with Marcus to put your decision into writing.”
He abruptly strode from the living room, and Cerissa heard the front door open.
Henry pushed to his feet. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll join Rolf. Cerissa?”
“I’ll stay here.”
Henry bowed his head and left.
Cerissa turned toward her best friend as her lungs tightened and her heart ran up her throat.
“Marcus?” Karen said. “Can we get started?”
H enry found Rolf outside.
A fogbank, brought on by the late fall winds, rolled in from the ocean through the steep canyon area where the two converging mountains met and formed the Hill. The low clouds blocked the stars and the moon. A dark grayness loomed overhead, and some of the fog crept through the vineyard snaking up the foothills. His friend stood at the edge of the lawn where the sticklike brown vines began, facing away from the house.
“Rolf?”
He didn’t move.
Henry came to a halt at his side. “I have no words.” He gripped Rolf’s shoulder and, from the side, saw tears roll down pale cheeks. Pain filled Henry’s heart, for his friend and for Karen. “I will be with you through the end and beyond.”
Rolf clasped his hand over Henry’s. “I don’t want her to die. Not now. Not this soon. I—I thought we had time. I didn’t mean what I said at the hospital. She’s not fungible. She’s Karen.”
“I know.”
Rolf released his hand to clutch his chest. With a sob, he dropped to his knees, bending forward until his head touched the grass. “I love her.”
Tears filled Henry’s eyes. “I know.”
“ Ach , I can’t let her go. I can’t.” Rolf rocked backward, sobbing in heavy exhales. “How can I allow my soul mate to die? Not when I could save her. Why won’t she let me try? Why?”
To see his friend in such agony sliced Henry’s stomach to shreds. Kneeling, he took Rolf’s hand. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose Cerissa to death, but a thousand years was far enough away. He didn’t have to face that prospect tonight. Tonight was about Rolf’s grief.
“I’m here, my friend.”
Rolf shook his head and threw aside Henry’s hand. “I don’t want you. I want her.”
Henry nodded, not knowing what else to say. Sometimes, no words were better than the wrong ones.
“I can’t do this.” Rolf rose to his feet and ran his fingers through his light blond hair, brushing back the long bangs. “I’m going into town.”
“Why? Karen needs you here.”
“And I need”—he tapped his chest—“I need to stop feeling.”
Was Rolf going to hunt? For almost a year, adrenaline-enhanced clone blood had controlled Rolf’s desire to live feed. Then Karen went under the knife. “We brought a fresh case. It’s in the Viper’s trunk.” Henry stood. “Let me get it for you. Once you have some—”
“Stop. Just stop trying to control me. Karen’s right. You’re a verdammt control freak. I know what I need, and it’s not blood from a bag.”
“Rolf, think about your position as mayor. If you’re caught feeding in Mordida, Tig will have no choice but to jail you.”
“ Scheiβe , you don’t get it, do you? I don’t care about being mayor.” He flailed his arms around, gesturing at the house and vineyard. “All this. The material things in life. The status. The political power. They’re all meaningless.”
“Then think of Karen. Who will be with her each night if you’re in jail?”
“Cerissa.” Rolf rubbed both hands over his closed eyelids. “Maybe I’m better off leaving now. Let Karen die without me. Cerissa can see her through the end.”
“You do not mean that.”
“Quit telling me what I mean or need. You don’t understand! I’ve loved no one like I love her. I will never love anyone again as I love her. And she is—” Rolf stopped suddenly. “I hurt. And I want… I want the pain to stop.”
Henry threw his arms around Rolf and hugged him tightly. “Self-destructing won’t make it stop. Sitting in a jail cell, powerless and alone, won’t make it stop. Stay here. Let us support you. Please, my friend. Don’t push us away now. Don’t leave Karen. Not when she needs you the most.”
“Cerissa can—”
“No, Rolf. You are her mate, her future husband, the man she loves. Don’t abandon her now.”
Rolf went still for a moment. Then he backed away from the hug and gave a sharp nod, scraping at his cheeks to wipe the tears away. “You’re right. I won’t run from this.”
Henry nodded. “We will be beside you both. Whatever you need, we’ll support you.”
Rolf nodded, silent for several moments. “I might file with the town clerk for our marriage license. Start the process so I can ask the council to turn my”—he inhaled sharply—“my wife, if Karen changes her mind. Just in case.”
Henry thought quickly. “They will approve a waiver of the one-year rule for you. You’ve been living together long enough. And with the circumstances…”
“You’re more optimistic than I am about that.”
“You are the mayor. But if that is not enough, I’ll make sure of it when the time comes.” He’d exert what additional rank and influence he could. “For now, my friend, please don’t give up. Hold on to the love you have for her and do not waver.”