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[Venom 01.0] Venom & Vanilla Page 4
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Merlin’s words about the Walls being created had continued to reverberate through me, long after he left. I picked at the hole in my sheet as I formed the question.
“Do you think the Wall is a good thing?”
She shrugged as she smoothed out my top sheet, her voice low and soothing though the words were anything but.
“My family is scattered on both sides of the Wall. Some are human, some are supernatural. Others are half-breeds.” Her hands slowed. “I’ll never get to see my little sister again. My family adopted her, she’s full human.” A tear dripped down her face, just one. It plopped onto the bed, leaving a tiny wet spot. “I’ll never get to be an auntie to her babies. She had a little boy last year. I’m not even allowed to see pictures of him. Even having a picture is enough to land me into trouble.” From her uniform she pulled a tiny, folded photo and handed it to me.
I took it, surprised she would trust me.
“Who are you going to tell?” she asked, not unkindly. She had a point.
I unfolded the image. A little boy grinned up at me. He had blond hair and bright-blue eyes, and his nose crinkled up with captured laughter. “He’s beautiful.” I handed the picture back to her and took her hand. “Firstamentalists, they helped fund the Wall. Do you . . . hate them?”
She snorted. “They did help, but it was the government, Alena. They’re afraid of us.”
“I didn’t ever meet a supernatural before I came here. I mean, not that I know,” I confessed.
“We aren’t allowed across the Wall. Unless you’ve got a lot of power, or a specific job like us here on Whidbey, there’s no reason to let us out. We are causing the virus to spread. That much is true.”
She put my hand down. “Do you hate supernaturals?”
I realized then she knew that at some point I’d been a Firstamentalist. It would have been in my chart to indicate that as a minor I wasn’t allowed certain procedures. Like having a gynecological exam for fear of my virginity being lost.
“No,” I whispered, and I realized it was true. I didn’t hate the Super Dupers. I didn’t want to be one, but I didn’t hate them either.
She smiled, bent, and kissed my forehead. “You’re a better person than most, Alena. Don’t forget it.”
My heart swelled, her words meaning more to me than I would have thought.
On the third day I asked another question that had been tumbling through my head. The nurse on duty this time was part gargoyle, part something else. I wasn’t sure of the mix; I knew only that as gentle as she tried to be, her hands were rough like granite stone on my tender and easily torn skin.
“Nurse Polli.”
“Yes?” She didn’t look up from changing a dressing on a bedsore that had rapidly spread up and over the bone of my hip. I bit my lip through the sharp pain as her knuckles brushed against the raw wound.
“Why does no one talk about the real cure to the virus? Merlin was in here and he just walked out with Dahlia, and now everyone acts like she was never even here.”
Nurse Polli froze in place, and her eyes slowly rose to mine, a flicker of fear behind them. “There is no cure for the virus. Dahlia died three days ago. I took her body out myself.”
I frowned. “No, Merlin took her out.”
Her eyes darted away from mine. “Merlin is a fictional character, honey.”
I rolled my head back. “Well, I’m not entirely sure it was his real name. I think it was like a pen name. You know, like how authors do sometimes because they don’t want their prudish friends to know they write erotic fan fiction of their favorite sparkling vampires.”
Her eyebrows rose incrementally as I spoke. “Really.”
“Yes, but that’s just from what I’ve heard. Where are you going? Are we done already?”
She nodded as she backed away and out the door, her gray eyes never leaving mine. Like I was going to suddenly reach up and grab her. I mean, she outweighed me by at least two hundred pounds, and I was weak as a newborn kitten. Yet she looked at me as if I were raving mad.
The door swooshed shut behind her, and I checked my dressing. It wasn’t even finished. She’d left it unbound and open to the air. Maybe I’d get an infection and die faster. The laugh that escaped my lips turned into a sob.
I didn’t want to die. But I’d thrown my chance away. And if I were being honest, even if Merlin showed back up right that moment, I would have turned him down. I’d been raised to do the right thing. Even when it hurt me.
Maybe most especially then. Because suffering was a part of life, and without it you grew prideful and full of ego.
I’d only flouted the rules with Roger, and look where that had gotten me: a cheating husband who couldn’t wait for me to die so he could have all my money. Yaya was right. He was an asshat. Even if I never said the word out loud, it was true.
Dignity, that was all I wanted now: to die with dignity. But how could I do that when I was trapped in this tiny hospital room with nurses who acted like I was already dead?
Then there was Roger. He deserved a special place in hell for not standing by me. Even if he’d just waited till I was dead. He could have pretended that he cared a little longer.
“Pig-brained clodhopper.” I pushed myself into a sitting position, my arms trembling with the effort. Even if I could move, I was tied to the catheter that allowed me to not have to use the bathroom. I checked the bag that hung off the edge of my bed. It was maybe a quarter full.
A thought formed, slowly at first, then faster as I latched onto it, a final plan put together with a definite goal in mind. The rooftop was only a floor above me. We were in the middle of January. The icy-wet cold would do me in faster than if I lay in my bed and continued to waste away.
“It’ll be like going to sleep,” I whispered to myself. I’d be breaking a big rule, a major belief. Suicide was a big no-no in the Church of the Firsts. But . . . I wanted to see the city lights before I died. The hospital was west of Seattle; maybe I could even see the Space Needle one last time. The best way to do that was to get to the roof. I’d sit awhile, and if I fell asleep, that wasn’t my fault. Right?
I pressed the call button, and a nurse, not Nurse Polli but one I didn’t recognize, poked her head in. “What’s up, darling?” Her southern accent was soft and soothing. I liked her immediately.
“My catheter is bothering me, itching like mad. Could we take it out? Maybe just for a few hours even?”
Her deep-violet eyes softened as she stepped into the room. With her willowy height and light-brown hair she was probably elfin in background. “For a little while, I suppose. Might be hard to get it back in, you know.”
“Not like I’m going much anyway.” I pointed at the bag. She nodded, and within minutes the catheter was out.
I gave an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Thank you so much. I think I’m just going to snooze a bit.”
She patted my shoulder. “You do that, darling. Just relax.”
I closed my eyes most of the way, peering at her as she slipped out of the room. This was it. I sat up and swung—painfully slowly, mind you—my legs off the edge of the bed. Clutching the metal bed railing for support, I put weight on my legs, waiting for my knees to buckle.
But they never did. “Dang, I guess there is an upside to all that weight loss.”
With a shuffling walk, I moved from the bed to the bathroom door, and from there to the main door. The muscles I had left trembled but kept me upright. I put a hand on the cold metal door handle. Here was going to be the real test. The door was heavy so it would shut behind people going in and out, lowering the chance of infection to the outside world. Good for them, not so much for me.
I pushed down on the lever handle and threw my body weight backward. The door creaked up as I scrabbled and panted for oxygen, my feet slipping on the floor as I fought to get a hand around and into the small opening. The door was open only a foot at the most and already sliding shut, taking me with it.
My breath came in a gulpi
ng draw as I slipped my right arm and leg around the edge so I ended up hugging the door. It continued its slow arc, coming to rest finally, trapping me in the doorframe.
“Well thought out, twit,” I muttered. “Dang it all.” I was stuck, pinned at the sternum on one side, spine on the other. Pursing my lips, I looked, or tried to anyway, down the hall toward the nursing desk. So much for my grand plan. “Um. Can someone help me?”
No one answered. In fact, it was rather quiet, even for the middle of the night. Where was the soft-spoken nurse who’d just checked on me? I took a breath, and as I breathed out, the door closed more, trapping my chest even tighter.
“Oh no,” I gasped. The struggle to breathe became a real and terrifying thing. Yet the only thought in my mind was that I was going to die, not on the rooftop breathing in the cold, clean winter air. No, Alena Budrene was going to die in an escape attempt gone terribly wrong when she couldn’t outwrestle the door to her own room.
I put both hands on the edge of the door and shoved with everything I had left. Two fingernails popped off as I slipped from my self-made trap and fell to the floor with a resounding slap of bare skin on cheap linoleum tile. I sucked wind hard, grateful I could breathe again, and surprised I hadn’t broken any bones in the process.
I forced myself to my knees. “Keep moving. Someone will come and find you if you don’t. They’ll know what you’re doing, and you can’t have that.”
“And just what is it that you’re doing, exactly?”
I snapped my head up and was sure I gave myself whiplash. Merlin stood in front of me, his hands on his hips and one leg cocked to the side. He wore the same clothes as when he’d come to talk to Dahlia, with the exception of one thing. He’d added a bright-red tie. His dark-brown hair was still slicked back to his skull, and his eyes still looked at me with an equal amount of humor and curiosity. He ran a hand down his tie.
“What are you doing on the floor, Alena?”
“Exploring my local environment. What are you doing here?” I tucked my gown around me so my backside was covered. I might be dying, but I was going to do so with dignity. Right. That was my thought as I crawled on hands and knees, moving toward the door that would take me to the stairwell.
Honey puffs, I hadn’t thought about another door.
“I came back to see you, of course. You’re the only one who could use my services. I have to ask, are you trying to escape?”
I kept my eyes on the prize and the bright-red “Exit” sign that beckoned to me. One way or another I was going to do just that. One last grand exit.
“Is Dahlia okay?” I breathed out past the heaving to keep my lungs and heart working.
“Wonderful. She took the full package. But your benefactor was not pleased you turned me down.”
I paused but didn’t stop. If I lost momentum, I’d never get going again. But my gown was slipping, and I would have to stop to tuck it tight again so my bare bum was not exposed to Merlin and the rest of the world.
“Go away. I told you I don’t want your help.”
“Well, here’s the thing. I didn’t get to plead my case properly the other day; I think I can do better this time.” He held the door open for me.
“Thank you,” I said without thinking.
“Oh, you’re very welcome.” He laughed the words, as if I’d cracked some ridiculous joke.
I faced the stairs; one flight, right to the roof. The hand railing was above my head, but Merlin didn’t offer to help again so I was on my own. On my knees I reached over my head and gripped the metal bar. With my legs and arms working in concert I pulled myself to my feet inch by inch.
Triumphant, I smiled at Merlin while I panted for breath. “See? Exploring.”
“Sure thing, sugar. You know, I saw your husband with his new girl. Blond, blue eyes, big bazookas.”
“She had a gun?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking.
“A pair, actually.”
I whipped my head around only to find him grinning at me. “I like you, Alena. And considering your past, that’s saying something. I quite hate the Firstamentalists I’ve dealt with. True assholes in their condemnation of anything they deem less than them.”
I flushed, knowing he spoke the truth. “I’m not really—”
“I know. I looked you up.” He took a step. “You left them. Very unusual, you know. They have such an iron grasp on their people. But I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re sharp. Quick-witted. And I’ll admit, giving Dahlia your funds was somewhat of a surprise.”
My mouth was dry, and all I could think about was a big ice-cold glass of water to ease the desert that was my tongue. “She’s my friend.”
“Let’s try another tactic.” He paused and took another step so his face filled my vision. “Wouldn’t it be rather apropos to show up on Roger’s, pardon me, your own doorstep, alive and more beautiful than ever? To shove it in his face that he walked away from you and if he’d been more faithful, he could have had the most amazingly beautiful woman in town?” There was a tone in his voice that called to me. Begged me to listen.
I shook my head. “I don’t care about him.”
“He’s going to live off your inheritance, your grandparents’ home, and waste it on a piece of ass who is using him for his money, and you don’t care? You don’t care he’s selling your bakery to fat-nosed Colleen?”
Good grief, it was as if he were inside my head.
I didn’t want to feel his words, yet they burrowed under my skin like tiny biting ants that wouldn’t let me be. They climbed to my brain and whispered that I should at least listen to him. I could do that much while I made my way to the roof. Not like I had a choice anyway.
One step after the other, I climbed the stairs while Merlin made point after point.
“You could take him for every penny. Open your business again. Start fresh. Have a life. Find love. Be everything you ever dreamed of and maybe a few things you didn’t even know you wanted. I could help you do that.”
We were at the top of the stairs, and I was back on my knees. “You don’t understand. I had what I dreamed of. I wanted to be a wife. A baker. A mother.”
“You could still be a mother.”
“Not if I’m a vampire. And that’s what you want me to be, isn’t it?”
He crouched in front of me. “What do you want, Alena? How can I convince you to come with me?” His dark eyes sucked me in, and his words made me believe he was really there for me. If he was a huckster, he was the best I’d ever met.
“I want to be human,” I whispered.
“I can make you look so human, no one will ever know you’re a supernatural under the skin. I can make you fit in like no other,” he sighed, and I leaned into him, putting my head on his shoulder.
The fight slipped out of me. I wanted what he offered: a life and a second chance. I didn’t want to die. I thought of Tad and wavered, knowing I was giving up on any belief I had of going to heaven. Maybe my brother would be able to visit me in hell. Maybe if I lived my life well as a supernatural, I wouldn’t go to hell.
“No werewolf. No vampire. No witch. No mermaid.”
“Something special, then? A one-of-a-kind supernatural no one has seen before?”
I lifted my head. We were close enough to kiss, but I doubted he had that on his mind any more than I did.
“Special?”
“Beautiful. Powerful. Exotic. Cured. And no one will ever know what you are by looking at you.” He smiled, and there was so much sincerity in it I couldn’t help but believe him.
I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the moment on me. This was it. A cold blast of air swirled in from under the rooftop door. Outside lay my death; it might take a few hours, but it would happen. Inside lay my death if I went back to my room. I was caught between the two possibilities, never truly believing there was a third option. I could tell him to take me back to my bed, and I’d waste away over the next few weeks until I was gone, as if I’d never been.
> But if I went with Merlin . . . I’d have a third possibility: a second chance at life. And if I was honest, I would relish the chance to rub it in Roger’s face. Show him he was a fool to have walked away from me when I’d needed him most. I could take my bakery back from stupid Colleen and her crappy, ripped-off recipes.
I clutched at Merlin’s arms and slowly nodded.
“Yes. I want that. Make me special.”
CHAPTER 4
Merlin shifted me into his arms, and I fell asleep as if he’d put a spell on me. Which, looking back, I’m sure was the case. My dreams were of the world I’d left and all the things I’d seen; like viewing a history show locked on every channel I’d ever watched, I couldn’t get away from it.
First was the outing of the supernatural community, right around the time I was born. The various world governments had botched things trying to keep the Super Dupers out of their countries, yet it was impossible because there were so many of them, and they were everywhere. Every community, every family—there was nowhere that supernaturals weren’t. So many stayed hidden, afraid of what was happening. Worse were those who’d come out and tried to take over because they were stronger than the humans. I saw again the way the world had sat on the edge of war for years, riots and rallies on both sides.
Finally treaties were put together, a judicial and penal system that would apply specifically to supernaturals. The Super Dupers had signed it, a member from every sect of supernaturals speaking for their entire species in North America. For a space of time, a little over two years, the Supes lived side by side with humans. I remembered going to the grocery store with my mom and asking about the man behind the butcher counter. His eyes were enormous, bug eyes, and his mouth was wide with two extra canines on either side. I still have no idea what he was, only that at the time he was terrifyingly different. My mom had grabbed my hand and dragged me from the store, her face flushed as she yelled at any who would listen.
“Supernaturals, they will be the death of us. You wait and see!”