Seer: Thrall (10 page)

I nodded understanding.

"Sidney, I need you to tell me you understand these rules and that you agree to follow them meticulously."

"I will remain in the house and make no effort to contact anyone outside your household. I will do what Millie says for therapy. I'll tell you about my dreams, but otherwise stay out of your things and your way."

Her lips tightened, but she nodded.

"We'll discuss the rest in a few weeks," she said. She paused. "How did you get down here?"

"Carefully."

She glared.

"Thomas hovered," I added.

"How were you intending to return to your room?"

"I don't know, Solange," I said, and there was quite a bit of sarcasm in my voice. "I thought perhaps I'd ask you to help, but that's not going to happen. I'll crawl if I can't handle the stairs. It's none of your business. As far as I'm concerned, as long as I'm not spreading your secrets or keeping my dreams from you, what else happens to me has nothing to do with you."

She stared at me. "Fine." Without another word, she stormed from the library, slamming the door on the way.

"Fuck," I said a minute or two later.

I tried picking the book back up, but the entire conversation had left me angry again, and I couldn't calm down. Eventually I gave up. I put it back and headed for the stairs.

Just the walk to the stairs was a challenge. I was getting stronger, but it was going to take time, a great deal of time. I leaned against the banister, my forehead pressed to the wood. I caught my breath, took one deep breath, and then took my first few steps up the stairs. I made it up five steps before I was winded again. I stopped, panting for air. Two more steps, and I stopped again. Then one more, and I sank to my hands and knees on the stairs.

Tears began crawling down my face. A year ago I trained for the Ironman bike ride. I only did the 100 kilometer ride again in spite of Solange's efforts to drive me further, but I had ridden my bike that far. Now I couldn't make it up a flight of stairs.

And it was all her fault!

"Sidney," came her voice from the top of the stairs.

I looked up. Solange was watching me.

"This is your fault," I panted at her.

"I know."

"Someone loses one percent or more of muscle mass per day of inactivity," I said. "I didn't so much as twitch for over two hundred days. You've given me the body of an eighty-year-old. I'll never get it back!" I wailed the last part.

Solange moved down the stairs and knelt beside me. "Will you let me help?" Still on my hands and knees, I nodded.

She was gentle as she rolled me into her arms and effortlessly picked me up. She carried me to my room and lowered me onto the bed. I rolled away from her and continued to cry.

"Sidney," she said. "You're right. This is my fault. Nearly everything about this situation is my fault. But you're wrong. You're getting stronger every day."

"I'm forty-six years old." I sighed. "At least I wasn't awake to celebrate another horrid birthday." I looked over my shoulder. "Forty-six. Not twenty-six. I'm not going to get it back!"

"Sidney," Solange said, "This is my fault, and that makes it my responsibility to clean it up."

"What does that mean?"

"Let me help you."

"How?"

"My blood." She paused. "Millie yelled at me. And she was right. I'm trying to give you choices. I wanted that to be your choice. She called me a fool and told me the only thing that matters is your health."

"She's wrong."

"Maybe, but she's not entirely wrong."

"I don't want your blood. I don't want help from anyone involved in doing this to me in the first place." I rolled away from her again, expecting her to leave. She stood beside me for a while.

"That's a foolish choice," she said. "And you know it. You should focus on one thing: getting stronger. That should be your only concern."

"I don't want to be addicted."

"You're strong. You can handle it."

"You want me bound to you, dependent on you."

She didn't deny it, but instead she asked, "Why would my motivations matter?"

I rolled to my other side so I was facing her. "You're awfully calm. I take it you ate someone?"

"Please don't put it that way, Sidney," she said. "Yes, I had a drink."

I lay there for a while. I couldn't get my thoughts to settle down, and I kept going around in circles. Everything was remaining so overwhelming, and I began crying again.

"God damn it!" I snuffled. Solange began stoking my hair and back, and I didn't tell her to stop.

Then she bent over so she was speaking more directly into my ear, her hands still trying to soothe me. "Sidney," she said. "You've been through a lot. Right now, you have absolutely no resilience. That is making it nearly impossible for you to make good decisions. Instead, it overwhelms you like this."

"I don't know what to do. I'm either screaming at you or crying."

"I want you to consider one choice."

"What?"

"Let me make your decisions for a few weeks. If you do, I'll make you a few promises."

"What?"

"We won't fight."

"Oh, funny," I said.

"You'll be going up and down the stairs without help. You'll be riding your bike, if you give me some time."

"Not Ironman distances."

"No, but a little to start. Millie says, with my blood and a great deal of work on your part, you'll be up to long distance riding by fall. I think that means thirty miles, probably not at your old pace, but you'll get there. With my blood, you'll ride the Ironman next year."

I thought about what she said.

"Which decisions?"

"All of them," she said. "Let me worry about everything. I will take a leave from the office, by and large. Aubree, Cadence, and I will probably talk a couple of times a day, but they can handle the day-to-day."

"My house?"

"I want you to sell it. You're not in a position to take care of it. Houses that sit without an occupant begin to decay. I've been sending people over every couple of weeks, and I can continue to do that, but I'd like you to let me sell it for you."

"You want me here permanently?"

"Short term, yes. Long term, after we do what we need to do, then if you want to leave, you'll have a lot of cash in the bank and will be free to make your choices. Are you that attached to that house that you couldn't find another?"

"I like my house."

"I do, too. But could you find another?"

"Yes. I bet you've already had it appraised."

"I have," she said. She named a figure. "I think the best is if you sell it to me."

"At the price you just quoted?" I asked. "I think perhaps I need an attorney who will represents my interests." But I offered a smile when I said it. I thought I had a pretty good idea what the house was worth, too, and the price she'd quoted was pretty fair.

"How about five percent over that figure?" she asked. "There won't be any fees except government filing fees. You won't get remotely that much if you sell it conventionally."

"What are you going to do with it?"

"Put it on the market."

"And sell it at a loss."

"Probably."

"Guilt money?" I asked.

"Maybe a little, but I am trying to take care of you. The house costs money each month."

"Do I have any left?"

"You've been getting paid for your consulting gig," she replied.

"I'm the most expensive meal you've ever had," I observed.

"Sidney..."

"Humor, Solange," I said. "Now who is stressed out?"

"We're both stressed out."

I looked up at her. "You'll make me better?"

"Yes, Sidney. I will make you better."

"How addicted will I be?"

"Very, but you'll be fine."

"Promise."

"I promise."

"My friends?" I asked.

"We'll get you stronger. Maybe in a week or two, when we see your progress, you can call Dolores. She'll want to know how you're doing. After that, if you don't want to host your parties here, you can have them there."

"Aubree stays away from Dolores!"

She nodded. "We'll figure out the rest as we move forward."

"You may sell my house," I said. "You may take care of me." I paused. "You'll make me better!"

"Thank you, Sidney," she said. "Yes, I'll make you all better." She bent over and kissed my forehead. "Let's get you taken care of tonight."

She didn't wait but climbed into the bed with me, then pulled me into her arms. A moment later, her wrist was in my mouth.

I drank greedily. She tasted so good. She felt so good.

Solange was true to her word. She handled everything; she took care of everything. She spent her days with me. During physical therapy, she did everything I did, right beside me, urging me on the entire time. She told me over and over how proud she was of me, how strong I was, and how much I would be able to do very soon.

She presented me with paperwork, explaining what it was. I signed everything where she told me to sign. I gave her power of attorney over everything. I didn't even worry about it. If she had intended to rob me, she didn't need my signature, anyway. I was powerless to stop her, so it wasn't a stretch to trust her.

She showed me my books, both personal and business. I was actually doing pretty well, and after I sold the house to her, my only expenses were health and car insurance and those charities I automatically supported.

"We'll figure something out later," she said. "Your 'contract' has completed, so I won't be feeding your corporate bank account any longer. But your corporate balance now is higher than it was at the start of all this, and you can continue to pay insurance costs for a while."

"And long term?"

"Let's worry about that six months from now," she said. She didn't even wait to see if I agreed. I'd told her to take care of me, and she was doing just that.

She even made my small decisions. She decided what I was eating, what I was reading, what movies I watched. I got out of bed when she decided, and I went to bed when she decided. I took the naps she directed, and I wore the clothes she selected.

If I expressed an opinion, she took it into consideration. "May we go outside?" was nearly always met with, "Of course."

Every afternoon, following my therapy, she had me take a long, comforting bath. The water would be hot and waiting for me when I stepped into my suite, but Solange would pick a bubble bath, add a healthy amount, and stir the water up until it was all bubbly, then she helped me in and got me comfortable. She had made a trip and bought everything they had to pamper me, including several different scents of bubble bath.

Sometimes she stayed and talked to me; sometimes she gave me a book to read; sometimes I just wanted to nap in the tub.

Afterwards, she would help me to bed, and then we would cuddle as she fed me from her wrist.

In short, I abdicated every decision to her, large and small, and I let her take care of me. And she did.

I had to admit, privately anyway, it felt good to just let go for a while.

* * * *

"Good morning, Sidney," Solange said cheerily. "Raising your head." She gave me a second to get used to the idea before the bed began to whirr, sitting me up.

"Why haven't you moved me into my old bed?" I asked. "In fact, where is my old bed?"

"It's waiting down the hall for when you're ready," she said. "I think you'll be more comfortable in this one for a little longer, but perhaps in another couple of weeks, we can switch."

"What day is it?"

"May first," she replied. "I have breakfast for you. Bacon, eggs, hash browns, and waffles today. No orange juice; it didn't sit on your stomach very well when we tried it yesterday. I have apple juice instead."

I nodded, but I looked around. There was no food. She waited until I looked at her again.

"It will be ready for you downstairs at the table. Go use the bathroom and brush your teeth, then we'll go downstairs together."

I'd been eating breakfast in bed. Eating at a proper table felt like improvement.

I was still having vertigo problems when I first got out of bed, so Solange automatically steadied me, and then walked into the bathroom with me, but as soon as she verified there were sufficient supplies waiting, she stepped out, closing the door.

I took care of everything, and a few minutes later I presented myself to my keeper.

She smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay," I said.

"Good. After your morning nap, we're going to go through eight months of your email. That will take us until lunch. It's a beautiful day outside, although still chilly, but we'll go for a little walk after lunch. If you like, we can go for a boat ride as well. Thomas launched the boat for me."

"I'd like that."

"Aubree wants to come. How do you feel about that?"

"You're asking me?"

"Yes."

"I don't want to decide," I said. "I also don't know if I can see her without hating her."

"Maybe she'll join us for a few minutes at the tiki bar and you can see how you feel."

I nodded.

She helped me downstairs, and a minute later, the cook was there with food for both of us. Solange and I sat and ate. She talked cheerily the entire time, mostly just filling my ears with words.

"You never speak French to me anymore," I blurted into the middle of a sentence.

She stopped speaking and stared at me for a moment. "Too soon," she finally declared. "Maybe someday."

* * * *

It was strange to read email that I had supposedly sent, but that Solange had sent while impersonating me. We went through the purely business email first, and there wasn't much. I had notified my clients that I was needed on a long-term project in a secluded location, but that I had a couple of colleagues who could continue to work on their projects. Including Dolores, two of my clients had agreed, and I had actually made money, billing for the people involved then paying Casper and Associates for their time.

"Are these your employees?"

"No. They're independents. You get paid; you pay us; we pay them."

"All right."

I had a few emails telling me they were pleased with the arrangements.

"What would you have done if someone had asked me about something I had done for them?"

"I was pleased it didn't come up," she replied. "I didn't have a plan for handling that."

After that, there were personal emails. Most of it was to Dolores. I'd emailed the members of the card club just letting them know I would be gone for some time and suggesting Dolores and Patty handle arrangements until I get back.

"Dolores has been hosting the card parties," Solange said. "Elsa, Gabby and Patty buy the prizes. It's back to two tables."

There was more mail from Dolores. Solange had answered for me with as few details as she could, and even said, "They don't like me answering email too often." And so the exchanges grew infrequent. Still, it took an hour to read them.

When I was done, Solange began grilling me. I didn't understand why at first.

"So when you call Dolores and tell her you're coming home, you won't sound like an idiot. But if you forget anything, chalk it up to still being a little out of it from your medication."

I began to smile. "When?"

"I'll quiz you more tomorrow. You could call her tomorrow night."

I immediately began to cry. Solange pulled me into her arms and held me.

* * * *

I didn't yell at Aubree, and the boat ride was nice, even if I got cold. I didn't say anything right away, and then it was Aubree who noticed I was shivering. They bundled me up as much as they could, and then Solange held me while Aubree took us home.

I was Aubree who gave me a hand while Solange tied up the boat. She helped me to shore and said, "I told you she'd forgive you."

* * * *

"Hello?"

"Dolores? It's Sidney."

"Sidney! Oh my god. Solange called. She said you were really sick. How are you doing?"

"Recovering. Weak. Really weak. They don't know what it was, but it completely wiped me out. The doctors told me it's going to take months to finish recovering."

"Oh Sidney," she said. "I'm so sorry, but I'm glad you're going to be better."

"I'm coming home."

It was her turn to begin crying. "I'm sorry," she finally said. "I've missed you terribly."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"No, I understand. When will you be home?"

"As soon as I'm safe to travel," I said. "Probably a few weeks though. Maybe a little sooner."

"We'll have a huge party."

"No," I said. "Dolores, I won't be up to big parties for a while. But Solange will arrange something."

"How are things going between you?"

"Strained. We've had some fights."

"I'm sorry to hear that. You two seemed so perfect together."

"We're trying to work it out." I paused. "I sold my house, so I'm sort of stuck."

"You know you could live here with me, if you have to," she offered immediately. "It would be pretty amazing, actually."

"We'll see," I said. "Right now, I'm focusing on getting stronger."

"Of course."

We chatted for a few minutes. She caught me up on things, but then I told her I had to go. "It's time for my nap," I said.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she replied.

"No, don't be," I said. "Solange will let you know my schedule and what I'm up for. But I'll see you soon."

We hung up, and I turned to Solange, who had listened to every word.

"Thank you," I told her. "You looked nervous. Were you worried I was going to scream, 'Help! Help! I'm being held prisoner by a ravenous vampire?' "

She smiled. "No. I was worried you would turn emotional."

"I might have if I weren't still high from your blood. Clever planning, Vampire." I smiled. "How soon am I 'coming home' ?"

"Maybe another week or so," she replied. "You've been doing well." She smiled. "I want to talk to you about something else."

"Okay."

"Your dreams. You've only had one since you got home."

"I'm not hiding them from you, Solange."

"I didn't think you were, Sidney. I've been discouraging them when you sleep."

"You have? Why?"

"Sleep has been more important for you. But I believe you are healthy enough you could begin to dream. It will take practice for me to learn to encourage your dreams, and more practice to apply them in useful directions."

I nodded understanding. "What do you want me to do?"

"Well, I was going to have a little ice cream. Would you like some?"

"Is ice cream in my diet?" I smiled. "I think I'd like some."

"I'll bring up a bowl for each of us. What flavor do you think you would like?"

"Cookies and cream," I said.

"Coming right up. We'll talk then. Good talking, Sidney. No stress."

I nodded.

It didn't take her long to return with two modest bowls of ice cream. She had my cookies and cream and red velvet for herself. She pulled up a chair, handed me my ice cream, and then we both took little scoops.

I ate about half of mine. Solange was watching me as she ate hers slowly. I looked at her bowl, so she scooped some up and leaned over to offer it to me. I opened. I smiled around the spoon.

"I know how to give you dreamless sleep," she said. "Dreaming is important to your mental health, so I only do it when necessary. But I've been discouraging dreams without shutting them off entirely, and I think that's what's keeping you from your real dreams."

"Not necessarily," I replied. "I've gone weeks or months in the past. There doesn't seem to be rhyme or reason."

"All right. I can also give you specific dreams. Basically I plant the suggestions, and you will dream about them."

"I don't think that will turn them into real dreams."

"Neither do I," she agreed. "I am hoping nature will take its course. But I'm going to sit with you, and we'll see if I am able to encourage your seer dreams. We'll do this for your naps and at night."

"You're going to sit with me all night?"

"Perhaps for a few hours each night. I can bring in things to do."

"What about your sleep?"

She smiled. "I don't need sleep on the same schedule you do. I chose to sleep with you because it made me happy to share a bed with you. I'll be fine."

And so I finished my ice cream. She took the bowl from me then told me to get ready for bed. By the time I was done in the bathroom, she had fresh pajamas for me, and while I was climbing into bed, she took care of my clothes from the day.

"Get comfortable, Sidney," she directed. I squirmed around. "Look into my eyes."

* * * *

I had dreams, troubling dreams, but right away I knew they were normal dreams, not my seer dreams. I let them run their course.

When I woke, Solange was seated next to my bed, a dim light on. I opened my eyes to see her sitting there.

It was strange. She was a vampire. She ate people. But her presence was comforting. I watched her for a few minutes.

Perhaps I made a small noise; perhaps she noticed my breathing had changed. She closed her book and looked at me. "How long have you been watching me?"

"I thought you would notice," I said.

"You were dreaming a few times."