“Come along, Anora,” a woman says, black cloak billowing around her feet. I take her hand and step through the door. I inhale, breathing in the comforting smell of sage and lavender. Firelight flickers ahead of us, and I eagerly look through the large, open doors of the brick building we’re heading toward.
It’s familiar, and somehow, I know I’ve been here before. I try to pull my hand out of the woman’s, but she gives my fingers a squeeze and looks down at me. Her face is blurry, but red hair sticks out from under the hood of her cloak.
“Good evening, Professor,” someone says when we enter the brick building. The woman who’s holding my hand leads me down a hall, her boots clicking on the cobblestone floor. We pass by more people, who are dressed similarly to the woman holding my hand. A few kids run by, wearing what looks like school uniforms.
We stop in front of a closed door, and the woman knocks three times before waving her hand over the door, whispering something in another language. The door swings open, and the scent of lavender hits me harder. A snowy white fox is curled up on a velvet bed near a fireplace, and woman who has to be in her thirties looks up from her desk. She’s wearing a black dress with a silvery robe overtop. She’s gorgeous, and she smiles warmly at me.
“Good evening, Headmistress,” the woman says and ushers me over to the fox, telling me to pet her so she can talk. I nod, excited to pet the fox, whose name is Artemis. I sit on the bed next to her, running my fingers through her sleek fur. The fire cracks and pops, and not long later, we’re both hot. Artemis gets up, padding over to the window to cool down.
“She’s almost at the age to come here,” the headmistress says in a hushed voice. “We can teach her, protect her. She’ll be safe here.”
“I don’t want her to have my fate,” the woman counters.
“There’s no guarantee she will.”
“My visions are rarely wrong.”
“Even if they are right, we can change her fate.”
“But what if we can’t?” The woman turns to me, face still blurry, and starts to say something else.
I wake up to Romeo, who’s under the covers and scratching my feet. I blink several times, having to pull myself out of the dream and back to the here and now. I run my hand over my face and sit up, taking in a slow breath.
Because I know now that these aren’t weird repetitive dreams, but memories.
Chapter Eight
“What about a vasectomy? I think that’s less emasculating than cutting off his balls.” Mrs. Rogers covers her French bulldog’s ears as she talks.
“Some vets actually do that,” I tell her, making a note in her file. “But we always recommend neutering. It reduces the risk of prostate enlargement and prostate cancer, and eliminates any risk of testicular cancer. You can discuss it more with Dr. Burnette if you’d like.”
Mrs. Rogers bites her lip and looks at George, her dog. “Other dogs won’t make fun of him, will they? I like taking him to the dog park.”
“One of the best things about animals is they don’t judge,” I tell her. She might sound crazy to some people, but I get it, and more so, I appreciate her devotion to her dog. “If anything, it might help him get along better with other dogs, and you won’t have to worry about your baby becoming a father.”
“Oh, he’s much too young for that!” She kisses his head. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” I open the cupboard and pull out a bag of organic treats, making sure it’s okay with her before giving George one. “The doctor will be in shortly.”
I leave the room and let out a breath. It’s been a long day, and I wasn’t scheduled to work today but came in to assist with an emergency surgery and ended up staying to help get through the last burst of clients. My evening riding lesson canceled, and I’m pretty sure it has to do with the fact that the lesson would end right around sunset, and I know for a fact Melissa’s mom is very anti-vampire and was outraged when New York voted against the Vampire Exclusion Act.
Used to needing any and all extra hours I can get, it wasn’t until I was wrist-deep in shit—literally—that I remembered I’ll soon have access to a ton of money. I won’t live paycheck to paycheck anymore, and it’s going to be such a weird fucking feeling.
Half an hour later, I head to the barn, needing to give Mystery a hug goodbye. I’m leaving for Indiana in the morning, and this will be the first weekend in years where I won’t see him. The last vacation I took was a girls’ trip to Vegas two years ago with Laney, and we were only gone three days. It was still fun, though, and we keep talking about doing it again. Now I actually have the money for it.
There are only two cars at the barn when I pull up, putting my Prius in park. Leaving my purse in the car, I hurry inside, heart swelling in my chest the moment I lay eyes on my horse.
“Hey, big guy,” I tell him, sliding his stall door open. With a mouthful of hay, he steps over and I turn around, letting him rub his head against my back, no doubt getting white fur all over my purple scrubs. “I’m going to miss you.” I turn back around and run a hand down his muzzle. “Be safe,” I whisper, heart skipping a beat in my chest. Tomorrow will mark one week since that dog-thing attacked us.
One week and nothing weird has happened since.
The logical part of my brain is begging for me to chalk it up to an inbred dog, deformed and probably dead by now. But I know better. Just like I know vampires aren’t sick with some yet-to-be-cured disease.
I lose track of time brushing Mystery and then leave in a rush to go home and change. We’re having a late dinner tonight since Dad’s at an event doesn’t get out until seven. Once I’m home, it’s a race to let Hunter out, speed-clean Romeo’s cage, feed them both, and take a shower. I twist my hair into a bun on the top of my head as I wait for the water to warm up, and then get in, washing away the smell of the barn.
Something crashes to the floor in my room as I’m drying off. “Dammit, Romeo,” I sigh. “I don’t have time for this.” Wrapping my towel around myself, I hurry down the hall, leaving the bathroom and going into my bedroom.
Romeo is sleeping on my bed, and a box that I’d had on the top shelf in my closet is now lying on the floor. It was only a matter of time before that shelf broke, since I crammed so much stuff up there. Flicking on my bedroom light, I open the closet and peer inside, surprised to see the shelf intact, though it still doesn’t surprise me something fell. I haphazardly threw shit up there.
The box is full of knickknacks, and I go to scoop them back into the box when a necklace catches my eye. It was another gift from Aunt Estelle, and I must have accidentally shelved it with the rest of the gawdy jewelry she gave me, because this is actually pretty.
I carefully untangle the thin silver chain from another necklace and hold it up, rubbing my finger over the purple gemstone to clean some sort of smudge off. I undo the clasp and put it around my neck. Then I get up and pull jeans and a t-shirt from my closet, getting dressed in record speed.
My hair, which is overdue for a trim, takes too long to style, so I keep it in the messy bun. It’s not like I’m trying to impress this girl Harrison is currently infatuated with. He’ll forget her name in a week, I’m sure.