Page 63 of Those That Don't Exist
Finding out your mother had been a vampire, and a victim of the bullshit government, kind of throws you off a cliff. I’d dived deep into more research, even contacting my tutor to change elements of my dissertation so I could spend the time looking into the orphans of the war.
I’d managed to channel my sadness into something productive, even if I’d yet to turn up anything useful about my own lineage. It gave me focus, it taped together the cracks in my mind. It didn’t stop them rupturing at night however.
The nightmare was back and twisted into something new. Sometimes I wake up in the car after the collision and I can feel fangs in my mouth. Other times the figure we hit is more defined. I still have no idea what Adicious looks like but the silhouette takes more shape. I wake up shaking or sweating every time.
The worst version was last night, when my mum was also in the car. I saw her body, as still and lifeless as my dads. I’d tried to reach for her but the seatbelt had locked tight no matter how much I struggled.
I close my eyes where I sit at the breakfast bar, shaking the thoughts from my head.
Deep breath in, slow breath out.
Reopening my eyes, I drink the last remains of my coffee, hoping it will warm the lingering cold in my bones, before refocusing on the screen in front of me.
I’d found an article about an orphanage on the mainland. It had been overwhelmed as parents placed their kids in their care s so they could join in the fighting. Several friends or relatives also signed over children whose parents had already perished in combat - the guardians unable to look after them long term.
It's truly heartbreaking.
This article had printed the names of the children, in a plea for any distant relatives to claim some of them. I’d started using Ty’s resources to trace names, to perhaps prove vampires were leaving their children in these homes. The Vampires, however, if our theory was correct, were clever. It seemed most names were false. The children had been given new surnames or new names entirely - I couldn’t trace any birth certificates from the family names used on the records.
I tried tracking some of the children identified as Fae, those with the pointed ears, and even they seemed to have false personas. The records were an utter mess. Whether on purpose or a product of the war I couldn’t tell. I wanted to believe this meant more vampires had survived - even if they weren’t turned to this day and had no idea of what they really were.
I slam the lid on my laptop shut as commotion comes from the entryway. I ease myself up from the stool, stretching out my body, before heading over to see which of my housemates has arrived back from their break.
I could’ve guessed which one from all the noise, and the explosion of stuff now in our hallway. Bree had spent the holiday enjoying the sun with her family on the other side of the globe, at some fancy beach resort in a private villa.
“Hey, welcome home!” Seeing her chaotic mess makes me realise how much I’ve missed my friends the last couple of weeks. Bree launches herself at me in a bone crushing hug. Her scent hits my nostrils, its richness and warmth, like she absorbed the sun. I still as a pang of hunger etches its way up my throat.
Thankfully, she releases me and starts talking about her trip, sorting through her bags until she brings out a couple of bottles of wine from the depths of her suitcase, which has exploded all over the floor. She abandons the mess and heads to the kitchen. I can only follow her whirlwind.
“Alright, I have to be completely sober again come tomorrow so we are opening these right now.” She doesn’t even ask if I want one, just pours me a glass and hands it to me. I take a mouthful which eases my itching throat. It's a rich red which has the same notes as her floral scent.
She starts telling me about her trip as the door goes again. Claire swears her way into the house, clearly spotting Bree’s belongings in the hall, but is smiling as she hugs us both. It's funny that I don’t have the same reaction to Claire as I do Bree.
More wine is poured as we start chatting and before I know it Bree is opening the second bottle.
“So, how are things with the boyfriend?” Claire asks. They both got used to Ty being around before they left for Solstice.
“He’s not….” I pause. I was about to say he’s not my boyfriend but it doesn’t feel right. “We’ve not really labelled it.”What do you call the male that was kind of stalking you and now you give eachother orgasms multiple times a week. Oh and he’s helping you adjust to life as a creature which technically became extinct nearly five decades ago.
“Ppffft. You two are so sickeningly sweet.” Bree tilts her wine glass towards me. “And not to mention we share a house with fairly thin walls so we can tell how much you're getting laid. If that’s not a boyfriend I don’t know what is.”
“And the sappy look you get every time you think of him, or get a message from him too. Definitely a boyfriend right there,” Claire adds.
“I do not,” I gasp. My phone decides to chime at that exact moment, I immediately swipe it up from the counter.
Red’s Stalker: I can get over in an hour if you’re free. I know your housemates are back today so tell me not to if you want some alone time with them.
I can’t help my smile at his thoughtfulness.
Both my friends burst into laughter. I lift my face and glare at them.
“Totally not hung up on him at all,” Claire giggles.
“Go on, tell him to come over,” Bree adds.
“How’d you know?” I ask.
“Call it intuition,” she replies, hooking an eyebrow at me.
