Page 13 of Losing The Vampire King

Orien has not only his striking physical features, but he is brave and fearless, something I’m not all that happy about. Eddie isn’t afraid. That trait sometimes makes him rush into things without thinking of possible consequences. There were a few occasions where I saw that Orien seems to act exactly like that. He thinks that he will always be able to handle whatever he stumbles on, and he just does whatever he feels like doing.

I’m different. I’m worried. I’m afraid of what might happen. I’m afraid of what I might lose. I always think several times before acting. I guess that’s not a good thing either. There should be a balance between the two, but that’s the tricky part, finding balance. That’s why it’s good to have someone by your side, someone who is yin to your yang, someone who completes you in a way you cannot complete yourself.

“Daddy had to go away for a while, baby,” I repeat something that I’ve already told him before. Luckily, it happened a few times already that Eddie had to travel, but it’s never been this long and never so suddenly.

“He’s coming back?” he asks, his little voice laden with hope and worry.

“Of course,” I nod, smiling as reassuringly as I can, under the circumstances.

I lower the heat on the stove, allowing the tea to simmer a little longer. The smell is overpowering, so while still holding Orien, I step away from the stove.

“He didn’t say bye, bye,” he suddenly tells me, pouting.

“He didn’t?” I repeat, to show my son that I am taking everything he says very seriously. Orien silently shakes his head in confirmation. “Well, I’m sure that is because he was in a rush. Otherwise, he always says bye bye, doesn’t he?”

“Mhm,” he nods again.

“Don’t hold it against him, baby,” I whisper, finally switching off the stove. “Come, I’ll take you upstairs to bed.”

He’s getting too heavy for me to carry him, but I don’t want to let go of him. We slowly climb up the stairs and go to his room. I put him to bed, tucking him in gently. Then, I take his favorite book from a small shelf next to his bed.

“This one?” I ask, showing him the book with a little bunny on it. He nods, yawning again. I doubt I’ll get to half the book with him still awake. But it doesn’t matter.

I start reading. “Once upon a time, there was a little bunny, he thought the world around him, was joyful, safe and funny. What he didn’t know, but he would come to learn, that life was sometimes hard, filled with hardship and concern.”

I keep reading until the little bunny loses his path in the woods one evening, after he decided to disobey his parents and not come home when he was told to. Fortunately, the story has a happy end. Fireflies help the little bunny find his way back home, by lighting up his path, and all is well with the world as soon as the little bunny is home safe and sound.

Even though Orien is sleeping, I keep reading until I reach the very end of the story. This time, I read it for myself. I wanted to be convinced that everything will be alright in the end, that the bunny will return home safely, no matter what.

I close the book and put it in my lap. It is difficult not to think about Eddie. Not knowing where he is, or even if he’s alright is killing me. I feel so distraught, but I have to remain calm, for Orien’s sake. I can’t let him see me worried. I know the effect it will have on him.

I wonder if all of this will work. What if the amounts of nightshade Eddie has been given is too much? What if his body is poisoned beyond any hope of healing?

I get up quickly, putting the book back on the shelf. I can’t think like that. I have to stay positive. I have to stay –

Something light knocks on the window just once and I turn my attention towards it. My mind is in an alerted state. What if whoever did this to Eddie is now trying to do the same to us?

I walk over to the window, hiding behind the curtain. Remaining out of sight, I try to catch a glimpse of the street, spreading out in front of our house. But there is nothing suspicious happening. The street is empty, devoid of life, as it should be in the middle of the night.

Then, what was that noise? I’m sure I heard it. It was as if someone threw a little pebble at my window, at… Orien’s window. A heavy talon grips at my heart, clutching at it desperately.

It’s the skin walkers. They found us. They are toying with us.

I try to remind myself that if this were true, everyone would know it. Kano would know it. Ever since Eddie disappeared, Kano has taken over most of the obligations that were Eddie’s. We told everyone that Eddie had to travel and should be back in a few days. It was easier than to tell everyone that the vampire king was missing, and we had no idea where he was. Worst of all, how would we be able to explain that he almost attacked me?

Kano was right. We shouldn’t raise alarm, not until we know exactly what it is we are dealing with. So far, there has been no news. I will make this tea and go to the woods to try and find him again. I have no idea if I will have any luck. All I can do is hope that my instinct will lead me towards him, that despite whatever is being done to him, he wants to be found by me.

I inhale deeply, moving away from the window. The darkness around us is oppressive. It’s not the night time. That’s not the darkness I’m referring to. There is another darkness, nearing us. I can feel it. It is ominous and threatening, because it won’t reveal itself to us. It is lurking behind every corner, behind every shadow. I can sense it.

I have to be careful. We all have to be careful. I know I have to save Eddie, but I need to keep Orien safe as well. I know my mother will guard him with her life in my absence, but I feel bad leaving him.

Still, I know that I am the only one who can find Eddie and bring him back. I am his only hope, and I won’t let him down. I can’t.

I go downstairs and finish the tea, putting it in a small thermos. It is one dose. The rest I need to brew fresh every time I give it to him. That is how the healer instructed me. But will he even want to drink it, or will I need to administer it to him somehow?

Administer. The very word sounds ridiculous. As if I’m not even talking about the love of my life, but someone else, someone who is a stranger to me or better yet, someone who thinks I am a stranger to him.

I sit on the couch and lift my knees up, wrapping my arms around them. The pose soothes me for some reason. I rest my chin on my knees, rocking gently.

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