Forbidden

Memory Lane

"During my training, I've shown some unusual abilities. Endurance, speed, strength. All outside of even the strongest humans. Trixie mentioned that it was unique to the Helsings, but how can we have powers while persecuting others for having them too?"

Nancy pinched the bridge of her nose and kicked her daughter in the shin. It wasn't a hard blow, but Hailey dramatically rubbed the spot. Van read between the lines- Mrs. Francis wasn't happy with being put in this position, but she also would not deny Van answers.

"Your father hasn't talked to you about this at all?"

"I don't really have the best relationship with him."

"I see."

"So, you know?"

"The Helsings call them Blessings. It's why your family leads us because the gods have decided to bless your family with abilities to help in the fight against the unnatural. They claim when our fight is over, you will become normal humans."

"Will the fight ever be over?"

"I think it will. Vampires are dying out. For whatever reason, new vampires are not being born. At this rate, they may be completely gone in the next hundred years."

Van sagged in disappointment. There went any chance of her escaping the family legacy. Abe would see her as Supreme if it meant defying the laws of nature he so fiercely protected.

"I didn't know that, Mom."

"It's not common knowledge. We've only recently confirmed it to be true, but we don't want word to get around. It will create complacency."

"I guess I better get going," she said, wiping invisible dirt from her black jeans as she stood. Nancy rose, her movements as sinuous as Trixies, reminding Van that behind the guileless blue eyes and motherly heart was a predator like all the other Slayers.

"Take the photos with you and please come back to visit. Though perhaps we should stick to memory lane next time?"

Nancy hugged her, then pressed the heavy album into Van's arms before she could protest. Not that she would have. Her desire to know more about her mother was overwhelming.

"I'll do my best, but Mom taught me to not make promises I couldn't keep."

"Sometimes, I see both of them in you, but right now you looked and sounded so much like her, I almost stopped breathing," Nancy murmured, pressing a soft hand against Van's cheek. "I miss her."

Van choked back tears. "I do too."

                                                                                 *************

An hour later, Van curled up on the sofa in the family room, the album heavy on her lap. An old film played on the television- her mother's favorite. When she was little, she used to hate being forced to watch it, but every time it aired, her mom dropped everything to make sure she didn't miss it. Now, the familiar faces and dialogue were a comfort.

"I haven't watched this in years."

Abe dropped onto the cushion beside her, loosening his tie while staring at the screen. At this angle, she could just catch the reflection of the movie playing in his irises. He turned, catching her staring, and something strange happened. He smiled.

"Do I have something on my face?"

Jumping, she shook her head. "No, no. I just never would have pegged you as someone who liked movies. Especially this one. It's a lot of corny, slapstick humor."

"You've seen it before?" A strange tremor worked its way through the sentence.

"Yeah, loads. It was Mom's favorite."

"Was it now?" he whispered, jerking his attention forward again, but the dim lighting didn't hide the bobbing of his Adam's apple.

"Did she make you watch it with her?"

Abe laughed. A genuine, deep belly laugh that rumbled through the couch. "I think it was the other way around."

All the air disappeared from Van's lungs. "Are you saying this was your favorite movie?"

"Yeah. We were only fourteen when we started dating, and that meant most of our dates were at home, heavily supervised. I think it might have been the third time we were hanging out, and she decided we should pick a theme for our movie nights. One person picked the theme, and the other person picked the movie that fit the theme."

"And the theme was favorite movie?"

He stretched his long legs in front of him and propped them on the coffee table. She imagined Gabby's face if she walked in on them. Even as plastic as her features were, Van though she might manage to look shocked. And it wasn't just because of the lack of decorum Abe was displaying. He looked years younger, almost as boyish as the kid in the photo album.

"Not quite," Abe replied. "You know your mother could never be that simple."

It was her turn to laugh. "You're right. When Walker was four, he was really into playing cops and robbers. She made us both learn the Miranda Rights before we could play, saying if we were gonna do a thing, we needed to do it right."

"Sounds like she didn't change a bit."

"So what was the exact theme?"

"The movie I would take to a deserted island if I could only choose one."

"And you chose this?"

"Yep. When it was over, she looked at me and said in the most serious, deadpan voice I've ever heard, 'Abe, I think we need to break up.' Then she burst into a fit of giggles. Only after she stopped did she tell me it was possible her least favorite movie of all time."

"To be fair," Van said, her cheeks hurting from the grin splitting her face, "it is filled with terrible stereotypes and slurs."

"You're right. She recognized that well before I ever did."

Van looked at the television. The main character was pretending to be a weatherman inside an old box television to avoid being caught by the man who lived in the house. Every time he turned the station, the main character adopted a new persona. Her mother could quote this part word for word.

"Come on. Let's go for a walk," Abe said, patting her knee before standing.

"It's supposed to snow soon."

"It's the best time for a walk, and besides, I want to show you something. A place your mother loved."

"That's playing dirty," she grumbled, but it was all a show. Even if he had just asked her to go for a walk, she would have gone. Maybe, if she'd held onto the bitter anger, she might still refuse to see this man as anything but a sperm donor, but at some point, the pretense necessary for Luca's rescue plan had become a reality.

"I don't know any other way to play," he admitted.

Hold on to that truth, she told herself as she followed him outside into the frigid air, wishing she could pull the cold inside of herself and banish the emotions threatening to cloud her judgment. No matter what he said or did, he was responsible for the imprisonment of innocent people.

"Ready?"

She gestured ahead. "Lead the way."