While I’ve got nothing to hide, I’m also not sure why we’ve all been summoned to check in, which leaves me concerned. Also, the fact that the Sisters chose Selene to be the messenger weighs upon me. “Do you know why they chose to give their message to you? Has anything like this ever happened before?”
“Roman, we’ve been friends for hundreds of years. Don’t you think I’d tell you?” she asks tersely.
“I do. I’m just concerned that you have been selected as some kind of messenger, and I’m trying to discern what the fuck it means. We’ve been happily flying under the radar for years.”
Leaning back in her chair, she looks at me thoughtfully. “I don’t know, Roman, but it can’t be good. They did say no humans were to be here. I left that part out, but I did tell you, obviously.” She anxiously glances around before leaning close to me. “Hopefully they aren’t planning to starve us all to death.”
Keeping the humans away from the visitation could mean a lot of different things. Our history isn’t completely secret, or how
we’re made. Some humans know, but most are inclined to pretend we don’t exist, and there are only a few history books that actually have it right. Unlike how to make bombs or the perfect cake, there’s no recipe for how to make a vampire on the Internet or anything like that. We’ve always tried to keep that as vague as possible.
“I don’t think they would do that. We’re their children. They, our mothers. There has to be a disruption somewhere that requires a check in, though. It’s probably no big deal,” I lie. It’s a huge deal. I do not know of any situation where the Sisters have visited, and vampires didn’t die or weren’t punished in some way. Our rules are quite clear, and when we become vampires, we swear an oath to abide by them. In my estimation, someone has done something against the Covenant and will be made an example of in the very near future.
“You didn’t tell your human what’s going on, did you?” Selene asks me dryly.
“No, I did not. You summoned me, and I came.”
“If you care for her, you should keep it that way. She’s a stubborn one. You do not want her showing up here looking for answers while the Sisters are here.” Selene doesn’t much care for my relationship with Fiona. While she supports my decision and my feelings as my friend, it is clear that she doesn’t understand it. Sometimes I don’t understand it either.
I nod and reply. “I don’t want Fiona anywhere near this place, or this situation until we know why they’re here. We’ve got enough problems with her father.”
“Did something else happen?” Selene appears shaken again. “You know that could be why they’re coming!”
“That’s ridiculous. He’s one gluttonous, psycho millionaire human who actually tried to kill me, remember? I didn’t do anything.”
“You ravaged his daughter.”
“She’s a willing participant in our relationship. She’s never been compelled. She still wears that ridiculous cross, in fact.”
“Well, it’s possible that almost being staked by her dad is worth a look into down here in Las Vegas, my friend. So prepare yourself for the inquisition should it happen,” she said.
I don’t want to admit that Selene could be right. Pride is not an emotion that disappears with vampirism, and the fact that I could be made an example of in some way stirs inside me.
“I’m sure one of these degenerates have done something to violate the Covenant, and we’re all just here to witness his punishment. Relax.” I need to take my own advice, but now that we’ve said it, she’s quite possibly right.
It’s mid-afternoon the day that Fiona is to talk to her father against my wishes, and I’m now trapped inside of a vampire nightclub awaiting my creators’ visit. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, so I pull it out and turn it off. I cannot sense any bad feeling or danger with her, and I need to stay focused on the impending visit now. I can, however, detect that her agitation has left, and she is calm, and that has to be good enough for now. Mind reading or telekinesis, or telepathy of some kind would have been a way better gift from the Fates, but I need to make do with knowing that she is safe.
If vampires had hearts, mine would be beating through my chest, but instead, I sit stoically, simply waiting.
22
Fiona
My driver pulls away from my father’s house. The smile on my face says it all. My pitch was on point, and my dad loved it. I have never seen him grin from ear to ear before, at least not when talking business with me. I felt a sense of pride when he patted me on the back. It took everything in me to keep the secret, knowing if I exposed the project as Roman’s, my father would’ve ripped everything up and kicked me out. Mostly, I want my father to see me as someone who knows the business. That’s where this project with Roman comes in.
I want to work with Roman, as his partner. I know it’s not what he wants, but after seeing the orphanage and reading his proposal, this is something I can get behind one-hundred percent. I want to use my degree and do something meaningful instead of being my father’s lackey. My dad pays me to entertain the investors while sorting through the garbage they present, and the only thing he really cares about is who is padding his pockets. Out of every proposal I’ve seen, nothing compares to what Roman has put together. He deserves this opportunity, and I’m going to make it happen for him.
Although, I fear what I’ve done might upset Roman. I have to make sure I lay it all out there for Roman and let him know that everything I’ve done is for him and his project.
Halfway home, I call him. The phone rings once and goes to voicemail, which means Roman’s busy. He’s done this before when he’s in a meeting, so I send a text, telling him how the meeting went with my father. I leave out the details about lunch, knowing the consumption of food doesn’t really mean anything to him, though he does show great concern for my dietary habits. Honestly, my eating must be a complete bore for him. Maybe it’s something I need to do when we’re not together, so he’s not feeling awkward. However, that would severely limit our dates, and I really like going out with Roman.
As soon as I get home, I check for any new messages and am saddened to find none. Roman barely lets me wait longer than twenty minutes without returning at least my text. I try him again, and this time his phone doesn’t even ring. I leave him a message, hoping he can grasp the desperation in my voice. Standing outside, dark clouds loom overhead. From this high up, the people down on the street look like ants, seeking shelter from the impending rain. I glance at my weather app; nothing but sun for the next fifteen days.
I suppose it’s not odd for a freak storm to hit, but usually, we get alerts, letting us know what’s coming. With my phone in my hand, I call Roman again. I know I’m bordering on crazy girlfriend status, but I have news I want to share. And he was worried about me going over to my father’s considering what happened in my apartment not too long ago, so why isn’t Roman answering?
As the night goes on, I continue to stand on my balcony, saying Roman’s name repeatedly. I don’t need to yell because I know he can hear me. Up until I left my father’s house, I felt our bond. All through telling my dad about Roman’s plan, our bond was giving me the confidence I needed to get through the meeting without unleashing on my father for his archaic views. Yet, all of a sudden, I feel cold and weak, almost like energy Roman and I share is no longer flowing.
I finally give in to my tears when my next call goes right to voicemail. The sound of his voice, telling me he can’t come to the phone right now as if he’s talking directly to me is too much to handle. I hang up, already having left multiple messages.