Melina Caruso is an extraordinary human whose red lifeblood and gifted abilities brought unwanted attention to the world of immortality and ultimately sparked a race for blood, power and love.
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Don't drink to the health of someone whose health is better than yours.
- Mikhail Genin (1927 - 2003)
My brush alternately passed over dried and wet layers, blending with the other colours present and adding plasticity and texture to my depicted blank face. Individual small movements of different tones of the same colour began to emphasize the individual segments through my movements. Again and again, I made individual brushstrokes and arranged surfaces, created contrasts and followed the shapes and alignments of the body.
The high cheekbones of the narrow face.
Delicate dark eyebrows.
Chest-length dark brown straggly hair.
A delicate nose in the middle of the face.
Smiling fine lips.
A petite neck that hinted at a slim and delicate body.
Large, slightly apart dark brown eyes with long lashes.
I paused momentarily as I glimpsed the mysterious sparkle within her eyes and smiled slightly. My strokes became more careful, the tiny spots within the portrait came closer together, and the nuances became finer and merged without any apparent edges.
The picture of the young woman became more figurative and finally almost resembled the black and white picture of my great-grandaunt.
"Melina...?".
I flinched at the sudden voice and abruptly tensed all my muscles before they relaxed again at the familiar sight of my grandmother. My heart beat fast in the middle of my chest.
"Your grandfather and I had called you to dinner several times," she explained with a gentle, apologetic smile on her lips and stroked my back soothingly with her hand. Her scent of vanilla and oranges reached my nose.
"It's beautiful, dear," she said, gazing at the portrait with blue eyes. I smiled at her compliment and slowly began putting my painting utensils aside.
"I thought it would make a nice birthday present for great-grandma," I replied, standing next to the painting and undoing the strings of my paint-smeared apron. My grandmother nodded and continued to stare at the painting.
"She was a very beautiful woman," she murmured, reaching for the black-and-white template I had placed above the picture holder.
"An unfortunate fate...she was only 19 years old when she died," she continued and put the picture back. Lost in thought, I looked at the folded apron in my hands.
"Do you think...that Mary Alice and I have much in common, Grandma?" I asked thoughtfully. The 67-year-old looked at me in surprise, her blue eyes alternately scrutinizing Mary Alice and me.
"Outwardly, you seem to have less in common; your hair and eye colours alone differ considerably," she replied to my question and gave me a knowing look.
I avoided her gaze.
"To be honest... Cynthia's health is one of the reasons why your grandfather and I wanted to talk to you, Melina." she began hesitantly and sat down on the stool in front of the easel. Her expression approached concern as her blue eyes restlessly followed my movements.
"Martina told us about the recent incident with your great-grandmother," she said. My eyes narrowed in frustration, and I shook my head.
"She said she found you both at the fountain in the town hall square. You were unnaturally pale and only reacted after several loud speeches from her," she continued, ignoring my increasing head shaking.
"I assure you that this incident was not about Cynthia. But..." I justified myself and faltered in the middle of my explanations. My grey-blue eyes instinctively turned to the tied bed curtains with the frayed hole in the middle.
The curtains remained untouched for three days after my visionary dream, so I hoped that, like my last prediction, the dream would not come true. However, as the morning of the fourth day dawned, the hole in the middle of my curtains gaped, confirming the presence of my psychic visitor.
"But...?" my grandmother asked, but I shook my head repeatedly.
"It's irrelevant, Nonna," I replied evasively instead.
"It's not trivial if it affects your well-being, Melina. Since that incident with your great-grandmother, you seem... changed, outwardly battered and restless," she said, her concern evident in every word she spoke.
I heard her sigh loudly afterwards.
"That's why your grandfather and I have decided that perhaps...a little change of environment on your part would be in order," she said, and my eyes widened before I turned my head jerkily.
"I'm fine, Nonna." I tried, but my grandmother raised her hand.
"It's not just your grandfather and me who are noticing these changes...the nursing staff at the retirement home have also expressed their concerns. They think you're taking over physically and mentally in caring for your great-grandmother...starting to put her needs before your own," she explained.
"Your aunt has supported our proposal and is happy to take you in for a few months," she continued.
I opened my mouth to protest, but no sensible answer escaped my lips.
Her conclusions were all too logical, given her ignorance of my visions, the existence of our inhuman inhabitants and their visit to my room. Four days had passed since then, and I was finding it increasingly difficult to think clearly. Their sudden interest in me made me even more uncomfortable, and I had to organize my daily routine carefully. As a result, my attention was increasingly drawn between the vampires and the safety of my great-grandmother, whose confusion and running tendencies could lead her into dangerous situations similar to those in the alley.
"I worry about her safety," I explained honestly, with gruesome images of bloody throats ripped open before my eyes that made me tremble.
She could be killed by one false step or by one fall on her part.
My grandmother stood up and approached me; her hand felt for mine and gave it an encouraging squeeze.
"Your great-grandmother will be fine, Melina. She's in excellent hands at the retirement home, with highly trained full-time staff at her side," she said, and I sighed.
"I don't know..." I said uncertainly.
"You're still young, little one. It would be best if you were enjoying your youth and free time to the fullest. Instead, we've had to watch you withdraw more and more into yourself over the last two years."
Her fingers squeezed my hand tightly.
"Moving in with your aunt will give you a fresh start in a new city and school, with new acquaintances and opportunities.".
