I can't say I recall what was going on around me; frankly, I don't remember much at all. All I can remember is the pain. I'd like to think I have a high tolerance for it due to snapping my arm once as a child and never breaking down into tears about it, but apparently, I was wrong because falling unconscious was a new thing for me. When I woke up the world outside my closed eyes was relatively quiet and the smell of familiar cologne rode in a wave of nostalgic memories that I quickly thrust aside with a vicious shove as I opened my eyes. I watched as the headlights of passing traffic sent blurred rays of lights stabbing in the dark across a scuffed, dirty, grey and dingy dashboard with a next to useless pine tree swinging from the rear-view mirror. Thanks to the huge ass lettering, I could see in the side mirror I was riding in the cab of a moving van. A relatively large one; the kind that one used to move the entire contents of their two-story house, backyard with play set and plus size doggie house to another. As to why I was in the cab of one... well that was beyond me, but I imagined the man behind the wheel would indulge me eventually. Probably sooner, seeing as he suddenly grew stiff and as I knew he would, his hands slid up into the 10 o'clock and 2 o'clock position. Typical, he was bracing himself, but for what? For an argument? I didn't know, but refusing to catch of glimpse of him out of my peripheral vision, I forced my eyes to watch the dark pavement pass underneath the truck.
"Sweetheart," he said gently pausing, waiting for an answer; not that I was going to give him one. He continued, "What do you remember of the last few days?"
That of course got my attention and my head snapped around to look at my father. I opened my mouth to fling out a rather scathing rebuke that I had been saving for the past few years, but stopped cold as I took in his profile. He looked--- exactly the same. Same short, messy, black hair with that ridiculous cowlick in the back he could never quite keep down and laugh lines around his light green eyes, something that mom always said was his redeeming quality and day old stubble across his chin, but not a single grey hair. He hadn't packed on the pounds like most of my friends fathers had, nor had he lost a great deal either. He seemed static; unchanged and unmovable at the same time utterly unreal. I hadn't seen my father since I was ten, when he walked out on us, but that didn't explain why he appeared to be the same age as he did in the photo on my mom's bedside nightstand. Physically, nothing had changed about him in eight years--- absolutely zilch. That unfortunately, is when my suspicions kicked in and everything started running in overdrive. Memories flooded into me like a toilet that was backing up fast and near the rim full of the shit you couldn't quite flush down and like taking a plunger to it I tried to avoid the emotional backsplash while I riffled through the memories for the straight up facts of his departure and the explanation for his appearance. Not only in the cab with me, but his physical appearance as well and I could only come up with one conclusion.
"You bastard," was all that came out before I grabbed the vintage silver metal flake steering wheel and wrenched us roughly into oncoming traffic, nearly side swiping an obnoxious military green Jeep Wrangler speeding by. But my sabotage was short lived as he managed to get the moving van back under control with little to no effort, only demonstrating to me what I suspected and now knew to be true. Particularly when he removed his fingers from the indent he had made into the steering wheel.
"Are you out of your mind Kristen?" He demanded. "Do you have a death wish?!"
"Fuck you!" I snarled. "You worthless pile of cow shit! I hate you! You low down dirty piece of rotten trash, I got acid reflux the moment I saw your face!" I knew I was word vomiting at that point, but I didn't care and let every hateful and angry emotion I had about my father since I was ten fall from my mouth with little to no order or sense. "Let me out of this truck," I shouted. "I'd rather catch a ride with a drag-queen truck driver that occasionally had cannibalistic tendencies!"
-----
I hadn't stopped there and the word vomit continued until I was sure I no longer had the air to speak. Regardless of my foul obscenities he simply sat there silently, letting my verbal abuse of him go on uninterrupted. Finally when I did stop, it was only due to the fact that I found myself regurgitating the same word vomit and I'd just grown weary of it all suddenly. As if a heavy blanket had been laid over me and I just didn't have it in me anymore. For a long while neither one of us said anything in the silence of the dark interior of the cab. Only when there was the vibration of the road passing beneath us and the hum of the cars around to keep us company did he speak.
"I know you hate me," he said quietly. "I know you must really loathe me to do what you did."
I laughed. It was cold and bitter and forced. "God it must be nice to be the center of the universe."
"What other reason would you have for doing this Kris?" He asked, his voice rising. "Cause for the life of me I can't find one!"
"Find one?" I asked coldly. "I'm sorry, but were you here for the past eight years? Were you invisible and I didn't know it? Is-is invisibility one of your abilities? You know... being a vampire and all." He said nothing after that and neither did I. I seriously doubted there was anything he could say.
-----
I don't know how much time passed or how far we'd gone down the dark highway only lit by the lights of our fellow drivers on their own trips before he cleared his throat as he brushed his fingers through black hair that matched my own.
"There's food in the thermos," he said plucking the aforementioned object out of the grey, worn out duffel bag on the floor between us. "You should probably have some before we get there. I know you haven't fed yet, so I can understand if you're hungry."
Before I realized what I'd done, something warm and rather like a dirty penny was in my mouth and just as abruptly as it had appeared there, held by my tongue, everything changed the instant it hit my throat. I felt the world widen and grow small all at once. The sounds of the tires on the ground and the whirling of the gears under the hood flooded in and out in waves of intensity while the smells in the small cab of the moving van I sat in with my father grew unbearable. Through it all I wanted to simply drown in the golden liquid sliding down my throat. To bathe in it and not care about the rest of the world as it passed me by... and just as quickly it was gone. The thermos was empty and I... I wasn't sure what the hell had happened, but I wanted it to happen again. And badly.
"Is there more?" I asked licking my lips, peering into the empty thermos. He didn't reply immediately, which caused me to look up at him questioningly. "What? You don't have anymore?"
"No, I do," he said.
"So what's the hold up?" I demanded.
"You just downed a pint in less than thirty seconds flat," he answered, slight disbelief in his voice as though he had been taken by surprise.
"That was a pint?"
"Sixteen ounces, yes," Caleb replied quietly.
"Okay... can I not have anymore?" I asked somewhat confused by the tone of his voice.
"It's just-- never mind, go ahead. There's another thermos in the bag." The top was off before he finished his sentence and I was downing what I could only describe at the time as: the sweet nectar of the gods, like it was going out of season and fast. I hadn't even realized I was hungry until I was full. He had said that I'd be thirsty, that I wouldn't even register it until I wasn't anymore. I didn't understand what he meant at the time, but I did then as I sat there with the faint smell of pinewood and blood in the small, lifeless, grey cab of the moving van with a father I hadn't seen in over eight years. It was pure instinct. Like fight or flight.
-----
"The first few days are going to be dangerous," he had said. "Friend or foe, it doesn't matter in the beginning. All there is, is the hunger and before you know it your mother or best friend will be dead at your feet. Why? Because you are unable to tell if you're thirsty until you realize you're full. It's all on a subconscious level while your senses which are in overdrive are contending for your immediate attention. It will continue like this until you gain control and can tell what is sense... and what is instinct."
I looked down at the empty thermoses as his words ran through my mind.
"I don't understand," I said.
"You will," he said. "I will teach you and you will learn that it's all in the blood."
-----
I must have fallen asleep at some point, because the car had been put in park, the motor still cooling down, making small ticking noises, and my father was no were in sight. Through the considerably dingy windows with their smear of bug guts across the glass, I saw we were in the small parking lot of a rest stop; one that you'd normally see along the highway. A well-worn, brown brick building that only held restrooms and some vending machines, inside and out. I thought briefly about getting some coffee from the vending machine, but then found myself wondering if I could even eat or drink normal food anymore. Was blood my only source of nutrition for the rest of eternity? My creator---maker---master... what in the hell was I supposed to call him? I sure as hell wasn't going to call him master that just sounded ridiculous and supercilious. Well he hadn't been very big on the details, at least ones I assumed he thought where under the need-to-know-later category; as it was, it was later and I wanted to know. About to leave the empty cab of the moving van in search of my purse, which I was sure, was with my mom; as I highly doubted she'd simply let my father take off with her unconscious daughter and the contents of our house without her permission, when I heard her shout.
"I didn't ask you to do this Caleb!"
"It's the only way Caroline. I can't stay in Ohio and you can't be alone with her when she's like this. She'd kill you and not even know what she was doing until it was over!"
"I'm not stupid," she snapped. "I am a nurse; I could have gotten her the blood."
"And risked your job and possibly getting arrested if caught?" he asked. "It's easier if she's near home, then at least I can keep an eye on her and for the first few weeks while she gets her hunger under control she can stay with me and you'll be safe."
"Like hell she's staying with you. You didn't even have the balls to stick around after your maker died. Yet you seem to think your little coven is going to accept that you're helping a fledgling that isn't your own? If I remember correctly, you left because of what she is. To keep her safe, you said. You don't think they'd see she was your own flesh and blood?!"
Silence descended then in the empty parking lot, save for the sound of the wind and hum of the traffic momentarily passing by as I wondered what she meant by: what I was? And, to keep me safe from what? I had never really understood why Caleb had left and mom wasn't too big on the details either. Just that he had to go... that it was something that he had to do. In all that time I worried that it had been something I'd done, something I did to make him leave. Now it seemed all my fears were coming true. He'd left because of me.
"Caroline," he paused. "I know you and I have... a lot of unfinished business between us. Things that need to be said and heard. But right now, Kristen is my top priority. There are only six coven houses here in the States. Two are in Indiana; one is in New York, another in Texas and two in California. I can't rule out visiting Masters either--"
"What are you getting at Caleb?" mom demanded interrupting him.
"This wasn't an accident. Someone went to Ohio with the express intention of finding and turning Kristen. It's no coincidence that this happened to her." He was blunt and to the point, but it didn't surprise me that he'd come to this conclusion either now that I knew he was a vampire. It would only be a matter of time before he connected the dots, but I didn't know where he got the idea that my maker came looking for me. It was more of the other way around-- at least that's what I thought at the time.
-----
Throwing open the door abruptly I asked, "If you're done talking about me, mind answering a question? Can I drink coffee?"
Caleb gave me a startled look. "What? Coffee? Yes."
"Good to know," I replied, turning to my mom. "Where's my purse?"
"In the back seat," she answered. Her brown eyes watched me as I wrenched open the back door of her lime green 2012 Ford Escape Hybrid with more force then I intended to. A sound like nails across a chalkboard shot out into the night across the open ground making me cringe, gritting my teeth. "Sorry," I mumbled sheepishly. "Guess I don't know my own strength."
"Be careful!" Caleb snapped suddenly. "We can't exactly explain how her door got ripped off while in park."
"Don't shout at her!" mom retorted. "She can't help it!"
Caleb's lips pressed into a thin line while I watched the two try to stare each other down. I had to admit that my mom had some big brass ones to have a glaring contest with a vampire as I had been told we could push thoughts through simple eye contact. I wondered what stopped Caleb from doing this to mom, but as soon the thought skittered across my mind he answered me.
"I'd never do that to your mother," he said turning his green eyes onto my own grey ones.
"What?" I was startled and for a moment didn't know what he was talking about until it hit me that he had heard my thoughts-- and then I was just pissed off.
"Stay out of my head!" I snarled. "I didn't give you permission."
"Permission isn't needed. Especially when you advertise it," he said calmly, the wind picking up rippling the grey, worn out t-shirt I recognized with painful clarity. The words: Greatest Dad, long since peeled and gone. "You would know this, if your master had bothered to stick around and tell you rather than abandon you."
I felt that-- that dig. Although I refused to let it show, it had hurt despite knowing the reasons my maker couldn't stay with me through what he described as: the most painful and intense three days of my entire life. Three days I couldn't even remember now that I thought about it and before I realized it, anger suddenly flared up hot and fast out of nowhere. Caleb's eyes went pitch black in a millisecond, pupils expanding to leave only a slip of green, as I knew deep down, to match my own eyes that had gone pitch.
"Abandon?" I snarled low in my throat, a hint of warning on my tongue. "If anyone abandoned me, it's you! How dare you stand there and talk about abandonment!" I yelled my fangs fully extended.
"Stop it!" Mom shouted taking a stand between us, but Caleb pushed her back behind him as though he was protecting her from something-- from me. One arm held out, stopping her from moving out from behind him. "Quit it you jackass!" She said trying to step around him when his fingers, at vampire speed, wrapped a firm grip about her arm pulling her to him, refusing to let her move from his side. But none of this mattered to me, only the rage I felt, only the anger that boiled and roiled deep in my heart.
"Who was it?" He asked gruffly, eyes watching me closely.
I'd known he was going to ask, that he'd want to know who turned me, but I wasn't in the mood to give him a name and I wasn't about to let him change the subject either.
"None. Of. Your. Fucking. Business." I stated flatly. The wind whipping my long, black hair about behind me like a banner flag.
"Kristen Burns, watch your mouth," mom said sharply.
"Who was it Kristen?" He was losing his patience and I was just getting more pissed off.
"Why'd you leave?" I demanded changing back to the subject at hand. "Why'd you leave us like we were trash? What kind of man just ups and leaves his family without a god damn word?!"
"Kris..." Mom murmured her eyes filling with a pity I didn't want.
"I left to protect you Kristen. To keep you safe..." I scoffed and it must have sounded as cold as it felt because it stopped him mid-excuse.
"So you're blaming me?" I asked incredulously, my head cocking to the side like a bird in curiosity.
"No," he quickly replied, letting go of my mom's arm as he stepped forward. All the anger gone from his voice and posture. "My maker had just passed and I had to take over the coven as his protégé. If anyone found out I had a human daughter... Kris... Kris they would have killed you."
"What?!" I wasn't the only one that was dumbfounded by this confession because mom moved around to face him. "What do you mean killed her? You said dhampir's were just looked down on, not hunted down and murdered!"
"Dhampir? What the hell is that? And protégé? What do you mean you were his protégé? Does that mean you're the Master of your coven?!" I demanded as I looked between the two. Caleb appeared on the horns of a dilemma amid who to answer and who to look at as his eyes danced between two equally livid women.
"It's a child between a male vampire and human female," mom said without so much as looking at me. "And yes, he's the Master of his coven or house or whatever the hell you call it."
I felt the world spin. "I didn't lie to you Caroline. I... I just..." Of course I didn't think either one of them noticed when I took a seat in the back of the Ford while my thoughts whirled around me. Had he known what I was the moment I had taken a seat next him? Did he know what I was even when he decided to turn me? And if so-- why?
"Danced around the truth?" her lips had gone into a thin line of their own. "And you didn't think to tell me that if one of your sort spotted her that they'd kill her?"
"After the first few years I couldn't even tell what she was," he said. "Dhampir's aren't rare..." I heard mom snort. "...but it's rare to find one with their wits still about them."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"That they tend-- to go mad," he replied, but continued quickly. "It's their two halves warring with each other. Vampire and human mentalities aren't meant to be in one body, but Kristen's seemed to have been at peace with each other. It's the dual mentalities warring with each other that leave the telltale signature for other vampires to sense. It's not smell or even the way they look. It's their mind. It's actually kind of amazing. I've come across dhampir's who are absolutely mad and you wouldn't even know it. Most sociopath's you've heard about are dhampir's. Their very good at pretending to be something they're not, but their minds are dark and truly empty of emotion. They are too self-absorbed to realize that they're able to mask their thoughts from those that might hear them. But Kristen? She was hard to read clearly from the moment she got rebellious. She'd plan things in advance that I wouldn't see coming. Do you remember when she was six and she climbed up that damn tree in the backyard even after being told not to and broke her arm?"
"I remember her being pissed at you," mom replied. "She wanted you to build her a tree house and you refused because you were afraid she'd fall out of it."
"And look were that got us," Caleb responded with a hint of amusement in his voice.
Mom shook her head, slightly frowning before she took a step back, rocking on her heels and ducking her head as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Can you just get to the point?"
I watched quietly as his back stiffened a touch at her words. "Kristen was hard to read before I left. Her two halves built a wall up around her mind. I can't say exactly when it started but I'd have to say it was little by little over time. Before I knew it, it was there and unless the thought was deliberately directed at me, consciously or subconsciously I couldn't read her. And if I couldn't then it would be damn near impossible for others to then."
"Other lesser vampires, you mean," mom said.
"Yes."
"Why are dhampir's killed?" I asked quietly under the drone of the light above us.
Caleb turned his eyes to mine with a look of regret or pity; I wasn't quite sure what, suspended in them. "Dhampir's are killed on site because they could pose a threat to all vampires who are hidden from humans."
"Could pose a threat," I muttered, gazing at my father through the glass of the car door when the industrial lamp-post above us, shuttered and popped letting the shadows that were once held at bay race over us
"Yes," he whispered nearly imperceptibly in the darkness.
All my life, my entire existence was one giant taboo. I had been left open to an attack, just for being what I was, if anyone had come around sniffing. And he'd left because of that. He'd left because having a vampire around a human woman and her child that looked suspiciously like him would have raised questions-- and with a creeping apprehension, I realized that he had in fact known what I was.