Page 12 of Losing The Vampire King

“That you are,” she confirms. “Waiting was never easy for you. You always want things immediately.”

“Sounds about right,” I grin.

Then, she seems to remember something. “Did you drink the tea I left you?”

“No,” I admit. “I don’t feel like drinking tea. You know I don’t like it.”

“You have to drink it,” she urges gravely. “It should help you remember. Trust me.”

“Tea to help me remember?” I wonder.

“Why else do you think I would be giving it to you?” she smiles reassuringly.

“To make me miserable?” I ask, once again making her laugh.

“I do that enough without the tea,” she points out. “Now, go back inside and drink it. I’ll come shortly and bring you some lunch.”

I want to ask her if she might join me for a walk, just around the cabins, without going too far away, but something tells me not to.

“Please, stay inside,” she urges. “It’s not safe to go anywhere. We have to remain here.”

It would be easier to tell her no, if she ordered me to stay here. But I can hear the concern in her voice, the pleading. It is much more difficult to refuse her this way and she knows it. I’m sure she does.

I sigh, staring at her. “Alright,” I finally tell her what she wants to hear. “I won’t go anywhere.”

I say these words, but I’m not sure I will keep that promise. It has nothing to do with her. It is stronger than me, this desire to go into the woods in search of myself. I must remember everything. Otherwise, I’m afraid something terrible might happen.

Chapter Seven

Bianca

It was late during the night when I was standing in front of the stove, boiling water for the tea that is supposed to save us all. I don’t even know how I will do this. None of this seems to make any sense. Life has been turned upside down, and I’m supposed to believe that something as simple as tea will make everything all right. The very thought makes me want to crumble down, but I know I have to stay strong.

Upon my return from the healer, I told my mother everything. Once again, she didn’t seem to be surprised. Sometimes, I think she knows more than she’s willing to let on. Maybe that sort of thing comes with age. Or maybe I’m just losing my mind, not knowing exactly what’s going on, feeling helpless and–

“Mommy?” I suddenly hear a little voice that brings me back from the torment of my mind to the present moment.

I turn around and see Orien standing in the doorway. He is rubbing his little eyes sleepily. His pajamas a size to big, so his bare feet are barely peeking out.

“What are you doing up, pumpkin?” I ask, walking over to him and picking him up in my arms.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I hear him say, although everything about him is telling me that if I were to put him back to bed, he would fall asleep in an instant. There must be something else troubling him, and I think I know exactly what that something is.

“Do you want me to go back to bed with you?” I ask him, pressing my lips on his forehead.

“Yes,” he nods, yawning, then leaning his head on my shoulder.

“Alright,” I agree. “Let me just finish up here, and I’ll take you upstairs.”

I walk over to the stove, with him in my arms, keeping him away from the fire, and using my other hand to pour all the ingredients into the boiling water.

“What are you making?” he wonders. I can’t possibly imagine why he would be interested in this. Maybe my mother mentioned something to him? I doubt she would.

“It is some special tea,” I explain. “For daddy.”

“Daddy?” At the mention of his father, he perks up immediately. He looks around, then a look of disappointment washes over his sweet, expectant face. “Where is daddy?”

I look at him, as if I only now realize how much alike the two of them are. When Orien was born, he looked like me, but the older he gets, he is becoming more and more like his father, something which is making Eddie especially proud. He always teases me about it.

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