“What do you have?” he asks.
“A book,” I say carefully. I hold on to it so tightly I think I may imprint the shape of my arms into the leather cover.
“Where did you get it from?” he asks, frowning.
“I, uh, I went back,” I say.
“To your old house?” he asks, shocked.
I nod.
“But why?” he asks. “I brought her ashes to you so you wouldn’t have to go back.”
“I know, but I…I had to get this. It’s a family heirloom.”
“I’m surprised it survived the fire,” he says. His gaze flickers between the book and my eyes.
“We got lucky,” I say.
My voice is whisper-soft, and even I don’t believe the lie I have just told. But something about my resolve must have silenced Jasik, because he doesn’t question my story. Or perhaps he is going to let the others complete his dirty work. They too will notice the book, and when Malik finds out, I will be forced to confess.
“Next time, let me go with you,” he says. “It’s safer that way.”
“I won’t be going back,” I say firmly.
I think about the investigator and the visiting witch, but I don’t mention them. Eventually, I will come clean, but I’d like another night of peace.
“I know it’s not fair, but never returning is for the best,” he says.
“I know,” I say.
He glances at the sky. “We should get back to the manor. Only a few hours until sunrise.”
Jasik and I stand at the edge of our property. The cemetery is several yards away, and I stare at the rows of headstones marking lost souls. I see them every day, and it’s no easier. It doesn’t even make it feel more real. There are times I wake and I forget. Will is alive. Amicia is here. My mother is at home, learning to build a life without a husband and child. But then I remember.
“It still hurts,” I admit.
Jasik is beside me. We didn’t speak the rest of the walk home, and with the book in my arms, it took twice as long to navigate the unkempt trails. Jasik suggested he carry the book, but I made excuses every time he offered. Now, he seems on edge, clearly confused by my reluctance, but instead of being direct, he bottled up his concern—like we all do.
“I know,” he says. “Time will ease the pain.”
“Good thing we’re immortal. We’re just oozing with time,” I say, voice laced with my annoyance.
I am tired of being told that time heals all. That if I just wait long enough, I will forget how much I cared. Am I the only one who doesn’t want to forget them?
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jasik asks.
I can feel his gaze on me, but I don’t look at him. I keep my vision focused on the tombstones ahead. I glance at my mother’s. A mound of fresh dirt catches my eye. Jasik must have buried her ashes after I left. I’m both grateful and bothered by this.
“Jasik, can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” he says. “You can ask me anything.”
“Would you want to be human again?”
He exhales sharply, likely surprised by my question. He is quiet for a long time. I don’t rush him. I need his honest answer.
The silence stretches on, and when I finally glance up at him, I see the anger and confusion in his eyes even as he tries to hide it.
“Would you take the cure?” I ask.
He shakes his head, averting his gaze. His eyes are hard now, and he won’t look at me.
“What is it?” I ask. “What’s wrong?”
“I…” He sighs heavily, running a hand through his already tousled hair. “I’m surprised. Where is this coming from? You fought so hard to become a vampire, to reverse the curse the witches cast on you. And now you’re treating vampirism like it’s a virus that can be cured.”
“No, this isn’t about that. I just… I need to know. If you could, would you give up immortality? Would you take a cure and be human again?”
“Don’t you think it’s finally time that you accept what you are?” Jasik asks.
Pain flashes in his eyes, and I realize my question has hurt him. I never meant to seem ungrateful for the life he offered me, even though I always manage to appear that way.
Not waiting for my response, Jasik walks away, disappearing into the manor and leaving me outside. Alone.
“You never answered my question,” I whisper. I know he doesn’t hear me because he’s already gone.
I kneel before her, sinking into the soft earth. My legs burrow deeply as I sit on my heels. I wipe away debris that has landed atop her stone, and I stare at the name etched in granite.
Tatiana López
My mother.
The box that carried her ashes from her house to this resting place is gone. Jasik likely brought it inside, leaving it for me in my bedroom. He knows how important it is to me, and he wouldn’t want it to remain buried, decomposing with everything else beneath this lawn.
“I do forgive you, Mamá,” I say. “I just wish you would have…”
I sigh heavily, expelling every wisp of breath until my lungs spasm in protest. My chest aches, heaving as I suck in oxygen too quickly. I desire the pain because it reminds me I’m alive. I made it this far. Regardless of everything the world has thrown at me since I became a vampire, I am still here.
“I don’t know what to say,” I confess. “That’s what makes this so hard.”
I set down the book, tracing the ankh cross with my fingertips. The edges are rough, the leather tight and wrinkled. I bet it was once smooth, but that was a long time ago.
The worst part of losing someone is being forced to move on without them. There is a massive, gaping hole in my life, and I am supposed to fill it with other things—as if a new hobby or friend can replace what used to reside there.
I can’t escape it either. Everywhere I go, I see the hole. I see it at night in my bedroom, when my mom used to wish me sweet dreams. I see it in the kitchen at breakfast, when my mom used to cook for me. I see it at dinnertime, when my mom used to ask me about my day. I see it in my dreams, my nightmares, when I’m awake or asleep. That silent, dark abyss is everywhere I go.
It takes a form, morphing into the short, slender silhouette of my mother, and it follows me around, stealing the tiny bit of sanity I have left and replacing it with anguish.
“I might have read the words myself, with my own two eyes, but somehow, that doesn’t make them more believable.” I sigh sharply, loudly. “I still can’t believe you were right.”
My gaze is focused on the book. The cover is dark, bumpy, and when I open it, the spine protests, cracking. I cringe internally at the sound it makes.
Marked by the years, the pages are crisp and tea-stained. I flip through, careful not to damage the pages I have yet to read. I stop when I reach the chapter about black onyx crystals.
I flatten my palm against the pages, feeling them give way at the spine. A crease forms, keeping the book open as I focus on the words written. I reread what I learned earlier today, still silenced by their truth.
A long moment passes as I let what I have learned sink in. It seems impossible, to have a cure, a way back to the light. Jasik doesn’t want to look at vampirism as a virus, a plague against humanity, but it seems that’s exactly what it is. One bite and infection spreads.