The Vampire's Assistant

Chapter Fourteen

I walked slowly through the bare rooms of my little apartment, checking that nothing had been missed but also taking a moment to lament my life here. This place had been good to me, for the most part. There were far more good memories than bad in these walls. I wished I could leave them here. They did me no good any more; they brought me nothing but pain.

It was amazing how quickly my life had been wrapped up and packed into one small U-Haul trailer. It was only two days ago that Eric had walked out my door, his warning to me to get out of town ringing in my ears long after he'd gone. Part of me thought it was an idle threat, but rationally I had no desire to test him. Being in no shape physically or mentally to tackle the task, I'd called a moving company. They packed my possessions in a day and the U-Haul sat waiting for me outside.

Now, more than anything, I just wanted to go home. New Orleans and the safety and comfort of my parents' house called to my bruised soul. I wanted to hug my mother and hear someone tell me everything would be all right.

The drive to New Orleans felt endless. Stopping every hour or so to heave by the side of the road practically doubled the length of my journey. I didn't bother to stop to eat; I could hardly keep any food down anyway. My weakened body screamed out for rest but I pushed through it. I would rest when I was home.

By the time I steered my car into the familiar driveway, I could barely keep my eyes open. My arms shook with the effort of holding my hands on the wheel. My stomach churned noxiously and I could feel the beads of sweat on my forehead, though my body was ice cold. These were not the normal symptoms of pregnancy, I knew. I vaguely wondered that if what I carried inside me was indeed supernatural, would I even survive it? That thought brought along all manner of complexities and I wasn't capable of addressing any of them at the moment. I banished the thoughts and got out of the car.

I seemed to float up the walk and only registered my mother's smiling face at the door before the world spun and my face hit the rough concrete. The frightened scramble that ensued, my mother's panicked voice, my father's strong arms beneath me, all seemed to happen at a distance. I managed to make a small squeak of protest when someone said, "911", but I couldn't form any actual words. Exhausted and resigned, I allowed myself to slip from consciousness.

My mother's shriek woke me. "Pregnant!"

"Pregnant, dehydrated, malnourished, and exhausted," a calm, unfamiliar voice responded.

"I don't understand," came my father's voice, "we just spoke with her a day ago. She sounded fine. She didn't mention any of this."

"I'd like to keep her here overnight," the clinical voice said, "She needs fluids and I'd like to check on the health of the fetus."

I kept my eyes closed. I wanted no part of this conversation. I hadn't put much thought into how or even if I would break the news to my parents; now it was out of my hands and I wasn't prepared to deal with the fallout.

"I want to stay with her," my mother said.

"Not a problem. In fact, I'd recommend it."

I heard fading footsteps and then my mother's warm hand brushed the hair away from my face.

"We never should have let you take that job," she said, her voice cracking.

I opened my eyes. "It's not your fault and my job had nothing to do with this."

She was in the chair by my bed and my father stood at the foot. He looked down at me disapprovingly.

"I'm inclined to think that if you'd found a nice normal job close to home, we wouldn't be here right now," he admonished. He wasn't wrong. He shifted on his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets, a tell that he was intensely uncomfortable. My father had always had a hard time with the fact that I wasn't a little girl any more. Now his little girl was pregnant and it was obviously a difficult truth for him to swallow.