Reflection (Book #2)

Chapter Thirty-Two

When I was first changed, I couldn’t stand to be far from Dion. I wanted to be near him at all times. Every reference to our future caused my heart to beat so hard that it was painful. He felt the way I did, too. I could tell, because he had never acted the way he started acting when I changed, like my smell was suddenly more attractive to him.

            After I’d been changed, we were like magnets. If I took a step, he took a step. If I took a shower, he took a shower. If I was feeding, he was feeding. We tended to feed from female Safi, but I didn’t question it.

In the beginning, I had to drink a lot to sustain myself, so we completed a lot of the suicide requests. Once, I questioned Dion on how exactly they worked.

“They come to the Baya station and tell us that they want to commit suicide," he explained. "They go through a bunch of questioning and mental evaluations. So whenever a new Zuri is made, the person who turned them can just call in and request the amount they need for them.”

I smiled at him. “You’re the best.”

I no longer had a reflection, and Dion didn’t have any mirrors in the new house. The word house wouldn’t really do it justice, it was more of a mansion. It had so many rooms that every few days I would go through and look through them, just to see if anything had changed.

Coming through the front door was a wide foyer that had high a high ceiling so you could see up to the second floor. To the right was the staircase that wound around the circular wall. To the left was the kitchen. Directly across from the door, under the stairs, was Dion’s secret room. He wouldn’t tell me what was in there, but I had figured out that it was as large as our bedroom. Whatever his secret was, it was large.

We had four empty rooms. He was so proud of this giant house with these outrageous features, so I never asked who he expected to live with us. Almost every room had it's own bathroom.

“Dionisie, you have to take her away with you!” I heard my dad saying as I hid behind the wall so they wouldn't see me.

“She’s a little girl! I’m an old man! What am I supposed to do with her? Have you not seen the way she looks at me?” Dion sounded angry and confused.

“It will be okay. I trust you to take care of her. Would you rather she died?”

Dion growled loudly. I’d never heard him so upset when he was protecting me. Normally he was only so upset at me. “You know the answer to that.”

“Then take her with you. You can keep her safe. You know the rules of this new world.”

                                    “I’m as old as you are!” Dion shouted.

                                    “You’re much better at adapting,” my dad said, with a light chuckle.

                                    “What do I do with her?”

“Finish raising her. After that, whatever you want. I don’t know. I’ll be dead. I’ll be watching, though, so you better be good to her," my dad joked.

“Are you sure you really have to do this? Why don’t you just… stop fighting? For Delilah’s sake?”

“I’m sorry, son. The Lord wouldn’t want us to do that. You have to take her with you.”

He groaned. “When?”

“Now, preferably. As soon as possible.”

"Baby, wake up. It’s okay.”

            “We’ve come so far since then," I mumbled.

            “What memory?” he asked.

            “Running away. My parents were begging you. It was the time we finally left.”

            He licked his lips. “I was pretty upset. I was over sixty years old, running away with this fourteen year old kid. And you were already in love with me. I think you always were, so I was pretty damn terrified of what would happen. You were still Safi, and I was Baya. How would that look? My own company coming after me because I’d killed you in some way, while you were twelve!”

            “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my fault. You’re you. How could I have resisted that?”

            He pulled me into his arms. “I don’t know. I can't tell you how hard it was to resist you once you turned sixteen and instead of just staring at me, you started begging for me."

            “I was miserable. I believed that you hated me most of that time.”

            “I never hated you. I always loved you. Sometimes I wasn’t the best at showing it.”

            “I’m sure it was different for you, to love me as my parent for a number of years and then to have me begging you to have sex with me. That was probably pretty odd.”

            “Not really. You never really let me feel like just a parent. You always had this look in your eyes when you were a kid.” He took one side of my face in his palm. “You looked at me like you always knew. I hated it.” He laughed. “At first, we thought it was harmless, your parents and I. We thought you just thought I was cool. Then, you turned twelve and we thought it was puppy love, but you never stopped.  When you were very little, it made me worry about you because I wanted to protect you so severely that I wanted to lock you away in a room and not let you out. I wanted to keep you safe. You always trusted me to protect you, even when you had no reason to."

"I don't know how I knew. Something about you always made me feel safe with you. You were my best friend when I was little. I don't remember ever thinking I was in love with you until I was fifteen or sixteen. You were just always there."

"You needed me to make you feel safe," he deduced.

"I need you to feel anything. Without you, I just wasn't okay. It wasn't just about safety, but I've always been right with you. I don't know how to be without you."