Christmas Healing Read online

  “One hundred,” he said with a question in his voice. Numbers were still hard for him to remember in English and she barely remembered how to count to ten in Latin, but she tried to spell it out ... 1-0-0 to 2-0. He nodded, looking through the book again. “Should Gregory conserve his money?”

  “I get the feeling Gregory’s money is infinite,” she replied, her body language nonchalant. Arthur nodded, book gripped in his hand.

  “How do I …?”

  “Here,” as proud as a mother hen, she led him to the cashier, who took his money and bagged his purchase without batting an eyelash. She handed him over his change, after tax, a handful of coins and bills, and Arthur handed them to Annalise. The concept of barter and money wasn’t entirely foreign to him, although she double checked the change to make sure it was correct before they moved on.

  Her stomach was rumbling now, half way to turning over, which sometimes happened with the drugs she was on with an empty stomach.

  “Food?” she asked, and he looked up from the book, his brow furrowing for the first time, searching her face.

  “Are you ill?”

  “No, hungry,” she replied, although she wasn’t entirely sure that was the truth.

  The food court wasn’t hard to find, but they didn’t have the giant pretzels that she was craving. Settling on a container of fries which she shared with Arthur, she opened up her purse, pulling out her pillbox and downing three pills with a sip of water. Arthur watched all of this, having not seen her do it before. He knew she was ill, that much was plain, and he knew that it was chronic. His face was full of questions, but he asked none, focusing on tasting the fry with ketchup.

  Annalise took another sip of water, trying not to gag on the pills. She really hadn’t wanted to swallow them with her stomach churning, but she knew it was better for her, in the long run. She had just finished an intensive round of IV chemotherapy a few months ago, and now was on methotrexate and 6-mercaptopurine, oral pills for maintenance chemo. After having the poison dripped into her veins and spending months in and out of hospital, she generally preferred the pills, and they were well tolerated. Sometimes, however, she simply didn’t feel well, and this was one of those days.

  She didn’t finish the fries, although Arthur seemed half interested in picking at them for the next fifteen minutes, and she let him, glancing at her phone. It was almost noon and she figured they should make their way back to the entrance, where Gregory would pick them up.

  “Ready to go?” she finally asked, and Arthur nodded, standing and holding a hand out to her to rise. She smiled, gathering up her stuff.

  “What else is here?” he asked, looking around and seeming to be in a better mood than before.

  “A lot. We’ll have to explore it all one day. But it’s a lot to take in, so let’s save it.”

  “How long?” he asked as they began to walk. “All day?”

  “Teenage girls spend all day here, but that’s because they have nothing else to do,” Annalise replied, taking another swallow of water and closing her eyes for a moment as they walked. The food had really not agreed with her and her head was beginning the throb.

  “Annalise,” Arthur said, and she turned her head to see what he wanted. The sudden movement caused a wave of dizziness to overtake her and she stumbled.

  Lightening quick, with vampire speed that wasn’t supposed to be shown in public, he had his arms wrapped around her, catching her before she hit the ground. The bile rose in throat and she began to heave, trying to keep it away from him and keep it concentrated on a spot on the floor. Her stomach felt like it was turning inside out, and pains began to shoot through her gut.

  “Annalise!” Arthur was clearly alarmed, and it was a small comfort that his arms were wrapped around her, holding her steady.

  The bile turned to bright red blood and this alarmed her, conserving all of her strength to whip her head around to him. But his eyes didn’t even flicker, concern flooding them. Even out in the open, her blood was too infected to be tempting.

  “Annalise!”

  All of a sudden, Gregory was beside her, skidding to the ground.

  “I’m ok,” the feeling of nausea finally began to subside, and her muscles stopped quivering. “I’m ok,” she managed, shakily. “It’s the pills … and the blood is just a sore in the stomach. It’s happened before. I’m ok, really. Please.”

  “Annalise,” Arthur’s voice had a slight quiver in it, and she turned to look at him, meeting his eyes.

  “I’m alright. It happens a lot.”

  “Why?” his brow furrowed and she looked to Gregory, who sighed.

  “Annalise is very sick, Arthur. You know that. This is a symptom.”

  “We’re ok here,” someone familiar said. Annalise looked up to see Rosa explaining to a mall security guard who didn’t look impressed with a pile of vomit on the floor. “She has leukemia.” Rosa in her skinny jeans, and heels, her red hair in waves, could have said anything to the guard and he would have listened, batting her eye lashes. “We’ll get her home.”

  “Yes,” Gregory agreed, reaching to help her up. Arthur, however, tightened his grip around her, heaving her up without so much as a noise. She protested that she was feeling better by the moment, but he wouldn’t put her down. “Let’s head to the car, shall we? Annalise?”

  “I’ll just stay here then,” she said, trying to smile as Rosa picked up her stuff, and they strided towards the mall exit, passerby’s staring at the girl in the tall man’s arms. Annalise settled her head against his broad chest, taking comfort in the moment to rest. To her surprise, she thought she heard the faint thud of a heart beat.

  “Rosa?” she questioned, intrigued. “Are you doing that?”

  Gregory smiled proudly as Rosa nodded. “She gets more powerful by the day. Touch is no longer required, just proximity.”

  “Your heart is beating,” Annalise said, looking up at Arthur. “You’re alive!”

  Arthur continued to stare straight ahead, and then his lips shaped words only she could hear.

  “For the moment,” he muttered and she sighed, laying her head against his chest again as they exited the mall. Gregory pulled the car keys out of his pocket and unlocked the doors. Rosa slid into the front seat, leaving Arthur and Annalise to awkwardly climb into the back seat.

  “Me too,” Annalise replied, as she closed her eyes, leaning her head against the soft headrest. “For the moment, me too.”

  The car started and Gregory powered out of the lot. Arthur didn’t seem as frightened as he was before, his attention focused on the damsel in distress beside him. Annalise tried to give him a reassuring smile that all was well, but it must have been so alarming for him. She wasn’t sure she was entirely convincing to him and she couldn’t muster up the strength to care. What worried her most was not being able to perform her duties if she was this sick. Would Gregory understand her mortal limits, or would her failure to thrive also mean a failure to survive in their house?

  Chapter 4

  Annalise sipped her mug of tea and stretched, careful not to move too far in case the IV lines came out. It had been two weeks since her fall in the shopping center, and Dr. Hever had suggested she head to a local hospital for observation. When her test results came back, she barely was able to say a word of protest before they admitted her, her potassium levels dangerously low, and that was only the start. But now, she had been in the hospital for a week, a site that was sadly starting to become familiar, and she wanted nothing more than to go home.

  Dr. Hever was sent her results daily from the hospital, and promised her she’d be out soon. Tony was rallying off the walls to get her brought home, but the vampire doctor was bound by law to tell Gregory the truth, and the result of that was that Annalise was not quite at the point where she couldn’t function.

  A knock at the door came, and she looked up from her phone in surprise.

  “Arthur!” she said, a smile lighting up her face. She hadn’t seen him since she wa
s admitted. She had been sending lesson plans home with Gregory, who came every day to stick his head in, check on her progress and then give her a stiff nod and leave. He assured her that Arthur was reading them thoroughly. It took her all day to write them up, her energy levels dropping, but then, what else did she have to do. Even the radio was just playing endless Christmas music on a loop now, and she was starting to be bored out of her skull.

  “Hello,” he paused at the door, hesitant, and unsure, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of her. And she must look a fright, she knew, with an IV in either hand, a pulse oximeter on her finger and the screens showing her dangerously low stats, never mind the fact that she hadn’t so much as brushed her hair. But in Arthur’s eyes, she also saw concern.

  “You can come in, it’s alright. I was wondering if you’d come by.”

  He took a few hesitant steps forward, and then stood by the edge of the bed, ignoring the chair for visitors. She patted a spot on the bed, and reluctantly, he sat.

  “How are you?”

  She smiled, tightly. “I’m getting there. How are you?”

  “Fine,” he said, and she almost praised him on picking up the social norm of lying in answer to that question. “Annalise … please, the truth?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Was it … something I did, that day, at the market? To cause this?”

  She gasped, leaning forward and grabbed his gesturing hand, looking straight into his eyes.

  “No, Arthur, no. It had absolutely nothing to do with you. It was nothing you did.”

  “You were tired that day. I should have not let you go out.”

  “Well, you’re not the boss of me,” she grinned. “And it was my idea, not yours. Don’t worry, it was nothing to do with you. It would have happened had we gone out or stayed home.”

  “What is it?” he asked, plainly. “That attacks you?”

  Annalise bit her lip, trying to think of a way to explain this without confusing him.

  “Um …. blood is made up of tiny pieces, too tiny to see, called cells. All blood is, right?”

  He nodded, listening.

  “And two types of tiny pieces, red and white ones, in blood.”

  “But blood is red,” he protested, “and there is something wrong with yours, I can smell it.”

  “Yes I know,” at least he understood that far. “The tiny pieces in my blood aren’t working together properly, and since blood is everywhere in you, it makes me very sick. They are mutants, deformed.”

  “How do we fix it?” They still hadn’t let go with their hands.

  “We … try to kill the deformed ones,” she said, wishing she had a chart she could draw for him. “By poisoning them, and then they die.”

  “Oh,” and then his face screwed up in confusion. “So the medicine … only kills the ugly ones?”

  She shook her head. “No. There’s no way to just get those, so it attacks everything. But there’s more good ones than ugly ones, so we wait it out.”

  He was silent a moment, baffled by this concept.

  “You could die?”

  “Yes, probably,” she replied, knowing that the answer was almost definite. Annalise was on her third round of cancer, and a forth remission was not in the cards for her. But she didn’t need to overcomplicate it for him.

  “Do you want to?”

  This was a heavy question, and she knew she had to approach it carefully. He was looking for common ground for his own depression, but she couldn’t lie to him.

  “I know that there’s the option for immortality. But I believe in natural life coming to an end, and seeing what’s after this.”

  “Life should end,” he agreed, and she sucked in a breath, wondering if she’d pushed him too far. “Yes. I wish it could.”

  “I don’t want to die,” she clarified to him. “I just want to live until I’m meant to move on.”

  “You don’t want to be a vampire?” he asked and she shook her head.

  “No.”

  “Because we are such monsters.”

  “No,” this answer needed to be clearer, and she squeezed his hand. “Because there are other options after death and I want to take that route.”

  “Yes, I also,” he sputtered brokenly, and she felt her heart shattered. She squeezed his hand and they looked up to meet each other’s eyes for a long moment before they were interrupted by a nurse bustling in. In her hand was a printed sheet of paper.

  “Good news, Annalise. Your levels have come up enough that I think we can discharge you. Are you ready to go home?”

  “Hurray!” she cried, the moment breaking as she grinned. The nurse turned to Arthur, glancing at their clasped hands.

  “We can have her discharged before tonight. Can you drive your girlfriend home?”

  “Oh, he’s no t…” Annalise interrupted, Arthur’s face a mask of confusion. “We’ll call someone who can.”

  “Alright. I’ll process these and be back in a bit. It was nice to meet you, Annalise, but I hope that you don’t come back soon.”

  “Thanks!” Annalise grinned and put her arm out as the nurse reached to withdraw the needle. Arthur watched, wincing as the long needle came out of her hand, and blood began to pool. Out of habit, Annalise glanced at him, but he seemed more concerned for her safety than his blood craving.

  Once the monitors were off, she sat up, stretching her back and reached for the cell phone on her night stand.

  “Can you call your brother for me, and ask him to come get us?”

  “Huh?” Arthur looked in confusion at the cell phone. She hadn’t taught him anything about it, really, never mind how it works, but he had seen it used often enough. There was no better way to learn than to practice, in her opinion.

  “Hold down the green button,” she said. “I just called him, so it’ll call back. Yes, that one. Hold it down. Now, it’s going to ring, so put it to your ear,” she was amused by the expressions on his face as he did, looking at her for direction every step of the way. Apparently, Gregory picked up immediately, and Arthur repeated what Annalise had said, falling over the words in English and switching to Latin more than once.

  Eventually, when Arthur seemed to be staring at the phone in confusion, she took it back, concluding that the call had likely ended.

  “What did he say?”

  “He said … he’ll come. How does that thing work?”

  “It’s a whole day’s lesson for another time,” she yawned, settling back on the pillows. “How did you get here?”

  “Knox,” Arthur said. “He is off to cause trouble up the road.”

  Annalise laughed, crossing her legs at the ankle. Now that getting out was in her near future, her mood was much improved.

  They chatted with a natural flow and only a few translation errors appearing until Gregory arrived. She was happy to see him because that meant going home and escaping this place. As a wheel chair arrived - hospital policy to take her to the car - she realized what a shift in attitude this was from the day she arrived. She had been petrified of the Initials the day she arrived, feeling like a prisoner. But now, a part of her brain was happy to go home with them, grateful for the escape, and she couldn’t wait to settle onto the couch in the mansion and relax.

  Gregory, ever the gentleman, reached for the handles of the wheelchair to push her out and Arthur nearly body-checked his brother out of the way to do it. Annalise looked up with a smirk.

  “I guess I’m a popular person.”

  “That you are,” Gregory agreed, as they started down the hallway.

  “How’s Rosa?” Annalise asked.

  “She’s fine. A bit stressed, I think, because her show opens on Tuesday. ”

  “Oh that’s right!” Annalise had forgotten all about Rosa’s performance in Jonesville, a half an hour north of the city, where one of the bigger theaters was. “You’re attending, of course?”

  “Yes,” he replied, as they went through the double doors, into the bright sunshine. She blin
ked twice, not used to the outside light. It was cold out, winter was on its way, late as always and she drew her coat tighter. “I’ve enjoyed ballet for centuries, and the Nutcracker is one of my favorites. And the fact that your girlfriend is dancing in it makes it better?”

  Gregory smiled.

  “Something like that,” he said. “If you two want to stay here, I’ll get the car.”

  “Thanks,” Annalise said, reaching up to tie her hair into a pony tail and looking up at Arthur. “Do you want to go?”

  “Where?”

  “To Rosa’s show. On Tuesday.”

  “With you?” he looked down.

  “Yes, unless you hate me or something.”

  “No,” he shook his head, frustrated. “I mean, are you well enough?”

  “They let me go, didn’t they? Anyways, it’s in a few days away, right?”

  “Yes,” Arthur agreed as Gregory’s black SUV pulled up. “Perhaps.”

  “Think of it as a lesson,” she said, about to get up. Arthur was in front of her in an instant, and before she knew what was happening, she was in his arms again, being carried to the car. The wheel chair moved in the wind, and she was about to protest that someone should have put the brakes on it. But she was enjoying the warmth he provided, the shelter from the wind, and so she said nothing, burying her face in his neck. It wasn’t strictly necessary, she probably should have walked, but there was something about his arms around her that made her feel safe. Safe. A word she never would have applied to the Initials before today.

  She felt so safe, in fact, that she fell asleep on the car ride home, her shoulder nestled against Arthur’s muscular arm. A bit uncomfortable, he wrapped his arm around her, letting her head fall deeper against him. Gregory glanced in the rear-view mirror.

  “Is she alright?”

  “Yes,” Arthur said, although he sounded unsure of himself.