“Or does Anne Rice follow our rules?” Vlad said. “It’s a chicken or egg question.”
“But either way, you can see how they’re restrictive,” I said. I collapsed on the couch and dropped my head between my knees.
Dr. R stood up calmly. “I’m going to get Tiffany a glass of water.” When she returned she sat down, and in a hushed tone, she said, “I knew this was a cult. Are you trying to recruit me?”
Heaven clomped down the stairs in a pair of boots. “OMG, Tiff. The keys wererightin the coffin. They must have fallen out of your pocket. Wait, what did I miss?” she said as she clocked the tense looks on my and Vlad’s faces.
Dr. R looked to each of us in turn. “You all are taking this vampire thing pretty far.”
I turned to Dr. R and smiled sweetly. “Does doctor-patient confidentiality extend to people you’re not actually treating?”
Dr. R pulled two business cards out of her purse and handed them to Vlad and Heaven. “Welcome aboard.”
Officially done with everyone, I sent Vlad away with directions to drive Dr. Rosetti home without feeding on her. I offered to pay her for what had essentially turned into another session, but she’d insisted that we call it even. “Just forget I got drunk last night,” she said.
With the chaos over, I poured a glass of B positive and stared out my favorite picture window in the living room. I brooded broodily while Heaven cleaned up painting supplies. She’d been painting the walls of all the common spaces black, first upstairs, then downstairs. She described the color choice as “bold, elegant, timeless.” Maybe, but it was giving black lacquered coffin. It was also giving vampire and acceptance.
Ironic, I guess, given that I wasn’t willing to accept Vlad’s offer to live like vampires together. It might be nice, but Vlad was a prince. If anyone had the power to change the rules, to make life as a vampire less restrictive, it was him. I wanted to be a Hallmark vampire, not an Anne Rice vampire.
Forget Vlad. Forget Tyrone. Dr. R and Heaven were right. I needed to work on my own issues, whatever that meant. The house wasn’t the only thing that needed to be rewired.
My shirt provoked a thought. “Heaven,” I asked, “what is your most deep-seated fear?” Apparently done with paint cleanup, her arms were now filled with various salts: Morton, Epsom, rock.Why the salt?shouldhave been my question, probably.
She flipped open the metal spout on the box of Morton salt like she was popping her collar and began pouring a trail of salt around the edge of the room. As I watched, she dumped the rest of the box in a mound in front of the door.
“What are you doing?” Everyone was going to track salt through the house.
“Cleaning.”
It looked like the opposite to me. “That was supposed to be for baking.”
She flashed me a look and I held up my hands. I wasn’t going to the mat over cinnamon rolls right now.
“I’m cleaning the negativity out of this place. All that arguing, and I have a bad feeling.”
“What is your fear, though?” I thought I knew the answer.
She stopped trailing salt through the foyer and said, “It was death. After I almost drowned, I—” She picked up a large black tourmaline crystal and sat down on the bottom step of the grand staircase. “You know how some people see a light and their family waiting for them when they die?”
“Yes.”
“I was dead for a minute, no pulse, but I didn’t see anything. No white light and no ancestors.” Heaven was as serious as I’d ever seen her.
“Maybe you forgot?” I suggested. “Or you weren’t dead enough, or your relatives hadn’t gotten the memo yet? We know G-O-D is real. Who else would always be smiting us?”
She laughed softly. “Yeah, but at that moment, I realized there might be nothing for me after this life, and it scared the shit out of me.”
“One of Jeff’s shirts says, ‘it’s not the pace of life that concerns me, but the sudden stop at the end.’ ” Jeff was becoming our resident philosopher, or more aptly, the No Fear company. I’m pretty sure they would be thrilled to sponsor vampires.
“Exactly. I went all in on positive energy to crowd out the darkness.”
I sat beside her on the stairs and gave her a firm side hug. A tear trickled down her cheek and plopped on the black crystal.
“Well, I had meant to soak these in salt water to activate them,” she said sadly. “I was thinking Epsom salt, but this works, I guess.”
“So what are you scared of now?” I asked.
“I guess I’ll think of something new. Maybe spiders.”
