16. Maria #3
“Give it to me first,” I say.
“I won’t waste a perfectly good vaccination on a vampire,” Dr. Clarke replies. “You can’t catch the illnesses a mortal can.”
“Mommy, why did he call you a vampire? Are you a nightcrawler like Daddy Christopher?”
His eyebrows rise. “She doesn’t know?”
“She knows now, thanks to you.”
Zinnia twists to look behind her where I stand, glances up at me, and waits for an explanation.
I freeze. I’ve always told my daughter the truth, even when the truth rips my heart out.
Papa Gabriel is dead, and Papa Lehm isn’t coming back.
But how do I tell her what I’ve become?
“Mommy?”
Dr. Clarke opens his mouth to answer.
I raise a hand to stop him. “You’ve done enough damage already.”
Dr. Clarke clears his throat. “Let me. Please.”
“Mommy?”
I can’t find the words, so I nod, not knowing what else to do.
“Vampires can transmit their genes to mortals, but it must be done intentionally through a process we call the turn. To save your mother’s life, Chris turned her. While your mother now has the vampire gene, you don’t.” Dr. Clarke raises his gaze to me. “I read Chris’s report.”
Zinnia looks at me questioningly. “What’s a gene?”
The science books my parents insisted I read finally come in handy. “You know how some rabbits are brown and white, and some are gray?”
Zinnia nods. “Uh huh.”
“Well, genes are part of our bodies that control things like fur color in rabbits. The mommy and papa rabbits pass on their genes to their babies.”
“Carrot’s babies were brown and white, like her.”
“That’s right. Now, the vampire gene is a bit different. Uh—” And I run into a wall. How do I explain something I don’t truly understand?
Dr. Clarke kneels in front of Zinnia. “The vampire gene transforms human genes.”
“Can I catch the vampire gene from Mommy? Like I caught the fever from Papa Gabriel?”
“You can’t catch it from her. But you can’t receive a blood donation from her, either.”
Zinnia’s brow furrows. “A what?”
I sit on the bed next to her and rub a hand over her back. “Don’t worry, baby, that’s something to learn about when you’re a little older. It’s just good for Mommy to know.”
Zinnia nods. “So, you’re like Daddy Christopher now?”
“I… Yes.”
“Cool!”
Her reaction knocks the breath out of me. Zinnia isn’t afraid of me, and I’m so relieved. It took a little longer to explain, but gratitude fills me—Dr. Clarke actually helped with this difficult discussion, even if he’s the reason I had to have the conversation so soon.
He clears his throat. “Now, the vaccines will ensure you don’t catch other illnesses like your father died from. Understand?”
Zinnia nods, her eyes solemn, and holds still while Dr. Clarke presses the tip of the silver cylinder to her bare arm.
“This device is a jet injector. Zinnia’s arm may feel a little sore.
While her immune system is trained by the vaccine, she may feel tired and fussy, which is normal.
If she has any other symptoms, contact me or the emergency exchange.
I expect she’ll have no problems, but it’s her first, and I want to monitor any reactions. ”
“Reactions? You said it was safe.”
“It is. And believe me, the diseases are far worse than any reaction she might have to the vaccines. The safety profile is excellent. They’ll cause her no harm.”
A sound I’ve become attuned to alerts me to Chris’s return. The door to the clean room opens and closes, and Wolfie trots down the hallway to greet him with a loud meow-chirp.
Chris glances into Zinnia’s bedroom, and our gazes connect. “Uh, let me put these in the refrigerator.”
He strides off, carrying a large box, which I assume contains the donor bags he spoke of. Dr. Clarke follows him, and I hear every word of his report, a brief “Goodbye,” and then all conversation ceases.
Chris returns with a smile for me and squeezes my arm as he drinks a glass of blood. “If you need any, help yourself.”
I nod.
Zinnia tells him all about the exam and how I protected her. When her story ends, she glances at me. “Mommy, I don’t feel good.”
I press my hand to her forehead. “She’s a little warm.”
“That’s normal with vaccines.” Chris grabs the Alice in Wonderland book they’ve been reading. I get her settled into her new bed, and he reads to her until she falls asleep shortly before the sun rises.
Chris takes my hand and returns his empty glass to the kitchen.
I grab one of the new bags and add hot water to the pan to warm it. “Did you have any renegade trouble?”
“No sign of them.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” I dry off the bag and pour, then drink it down.
He shrugs. “I think so.” Reaching into the pantry, he opens a box, grabbing three pouches. “Tig flashed us a box of clone blood. Come on. Time for bed.”
I’m worn out. All the emotional ups and downs from this evening have drained me, and all I want is to be comforted.
He drops the pouches onto my nightstand. “For you in the morning. We’ll save the rest for an emergency.”
When we hit the mattress, he tugs me into his arms. That’s the last thing I remember as the sunrise takes me.