“I do trust you, Willow.” There were tears in her sister’s voice. “But what if you can’t get to a phone when you need me?”
“That’s a chance I have to take. It’s one you’ll have to let me take. I’m not a little girl anymore. And I need to work through this my own way.”
“Alright. Just please come back safe and happy. Or at least, not depressed anymore.” After a moment, Roxy sighed. “Hell, I don’t care. Just come back.”
“I’ll talk to you soon, Roxy.”
“Will?”
“Yes?”
“When did you become the big sister?”
Giving a small chuckle, Willow sighed. “I wouldn’t go that far. I’ve learned a lot from you. And there’s nothing wrong with the big sister being the wild one. You never were very conventional.”
She said goodbye and hung up the phone, laying back against the couch and closing her eyes. Did I do the right thing? Should I just disappear into the night now that I know—well, think—Seth is going to be all right? Do I even want answers to some of my questions?
Feeling around, she found the remote tucked into the side of the couch and turned the channel to an old movie she’d seen many times before. As she watched, she tried to fight back a yawn, unsuccessfully.
Why did I care so much about him being sick? Just what exactly do I feel for him?
Before she could answer any of her own questions, Willow was sleeping once again.
Riding on his motorcycle, Seth dreaded calling his mother. He hated having to call her with such an awkward question, but he didn’t know whom else he could ask. With a reluctant sigh, he pulled the motorcycle over and took the cell phone out of his pocket. Bringing the number up on speed dial, he refused to give himself a chance to second-guess his decision.
“Hi, Mom,” he began.
“Seth Baker, or Brown, or whatever you’re calling yourself these days, do you know how long it’s been since you called me?” His mother’s voice scolding him over the phone caused him to cringe.
“It’s been—”
She cut him off. “It’s been over thirty years, young man. Do you know how worried I’ve been about you? You would think that my youngest son would call at least once a decade. But no. Mr. I’m-almost-eight-hundred doesn’t think his poor mother still worries about him. Your brother Angelo checks in with me now and then.” She sniffed, “Even Thomas comes by for dinner every few years. But not you. No, my baby, the youngest of all my children is far too old for anything like that. Do you know how worried I was? I was getting ready to send your brother Raphael to track you down. Who knows what could have happened to you. If you don’t check in with me more often, young man, I will track you down myself and then may the gods help you. You aren’t too old for me to put over my knee, you know.”
Throughout his mother’s lecture Seth couldn’t help but feel horrible that he hadn’t called his mother earlier. He honestly hadn’t believed she would be this worried about him.
“…could have been caught in the sunlight, or by one of those strange humans who are determined to stake us. Why did your cousin Vlad have to brag so much? If it weren’t for him there would never have been a book, and no vampire movies… His mother still cringes whenever someone brings that up, the poor dear. Well, it doesn’t set everything right, but I heard he’s still locked in his bedroom, and she only sends up old men every few days to feed him. None of the pretty young things that he used to drink from, I can guarantee you that. Teach him to blab our secrets to everyone… Oh, and your sister Grace sent me the most delightful pictures of her children—”
“Mom, I wanted to ask you something. It’s kind of important,” Seth interrupted her gossip. Now that her lecture was over, his mom was once again her usual bubbly self. And he needed to ask his question before the conversation turned into her asking when he was going to have children of his own.
“Of course, baby, what did you need to know?”
“I was wondering if you would tell me that old bedtime story I used to love.”
His mother chuckled. “Almost eight hundred and you still want to hear that old legend?”
“I tried to remember it, but I couldn’t.” He paused. “It’s really important, Mom. Please?”
“You always did say that.” She laughed. “Alright.” She sighed as only a mother can. Clearing her throat, she began her story. “Many years ago, so long ago that not even their names are remembered, long before my great-grandmother’s time, there was a powerful wizard. He fell in love with a beautiful maiden, with hair the color of the sun and eyes the color of the sky on a clear summer day. For a while the wizard watched her from afar, marveling that he was only able to see her dancing under the moon. Not once did he ever see her during the daylight, no matter how hard he tried. He’d started to wonder if she were some kind of dream. But after a while, he finally gathered his courage and approached the maid. Instead of being afraid when he approached her, she laughed with him. They spoke until the first rays of dawn appeared in the sky. When he asked if he could see her again, she promised she would return the following night.
“Weeks passed and always, the wizard was waiting in the meadow when she arrived. They were often seen dancing under the light of the moon. It didn’t take long for both to begin looking forward to their time together beneath the night sky, of being kissed by the moonlight.
“You must remember, this was long before things such as witchcraft and dancing were seen as sinful, as evil. Every night they fell more deeply in love. Finally, one night after the wizard swore his undying love for her, the maiden decided to tell him her most protected secret. She told him about her hunger for blood, how she would never be able to see the sunlight because it would kill her.
“At first the wizard scoffed at her. Thinking the maiden was simply trying to scare him, he took several steps away from her, trying to decide what he should do. He’d heard of such creatures before, but they were always monsters. Vicious beings who wouldn’t hesitate to kill because their lust for blood was all-consuming. How could this beautiful, gentle maid be such a creature, he wondered. Turning to her, he asked for proof of what she said. Before he had time to blink his eyes, the maiden was once more beside him, pulling his head down to her own for a kiss. In the kiss, she allowed her hunger for him to show; she allowed her teeth to lengthen. The wizard gasped, pulling away from her as he tasted the coppery blood in his mouth from where her razor-sharp teeth had scratched his lip.
“She walked closer to him, stepping back into his embrace. The wizard tried to protest when she kissed him again, tried to warn her of the blood in his mouth. His eyes grew wide as he felt her tongue glide across the cut, just before she pulled away. The wizard could barely believe what was happening as he realized the cut was gone.
“He asked her from where she usually fed. ‘The neck’, she replied, praying that her love wouldn’t find her repulsive. ‘Will it hurt?’ he asked. ‘I cannot allow you to make such a sacrifice for me,’ she cried. The wizard walked to her, tilting her head up. ‘I swore my undying love for you. I would give you the Moon Goddess herself if I could. It will not harm me to allow you to take a bit of my blood.’ The maiden was moved to tears, which her wizard gently dried with his handkerchief.
“With as much gentleness as she could, the maiden placed her mouth over the strong pulse in his neck. As her teeth slid into his flesh, the maiden and the wizard felt a bond form between them. One so strong it felt as if the very gods themselves could not break it. She pushed her thoughts out, directing them toward her love, images of them kissing, of slipping her dress off and allowing him to see her body naked in the moonlight. After taking only a few sips, just enough to ease the hunger caused by the blood from his lip, she closed his wound and looked at him anxiously.