Ordained (13 page)

There was a slow and groggy pull inside Abby’s body. Before she could feel anything, she could sense Noel through the haze. He was close. First was the flutter of her eyes, then sparks of movement in the muscles throughout her arms and legs. As her vision came into focus, she gazed upon Noel. As she sensed, he was laying beside her in bed, watching her every move, smiling as she woke.

“Good morning,” he said warmly.

Abby’s left dimple pinched as the corner of her mouth expanded upward in his direction. She slowly raised her arms and patted her neck to inspect the wounds – mostly healed. Despite her recent ordeal, she felt quite refreshed.

“How long was I out?” she asked.

“A few days.”

Abby knew she should stay in bed and rest longer, but she was never one to be laid up. Determined, she rolled away from him, onto her side. She leaned on the night stand for support and forced her upper body to rise. Her hand knocked over the transfusion equipment left on the nightstand.

“Emily?”

“Universal donor. Got lucky there.” He wrapped his body around her from behind and she rolled back into his chest. Her legs swayed back and forth, kicking her heels against the bed, waiting for signs of life.

“So how do you feel?” Noel asked, offering his hands.

She took his into hers and began flexing her fingers, squeezing as hard as she could. “Like I had the crap beaten out of me.”

“Oh, well honey, you did,” Noel said sarcastically.

Abby huffed, but smiled too.

“On the bright side, everything seems to be working again.”

He pulled out from behind her and went into the bathroom. He returned with a glass of blue tonic water and tried to hand it to her. Her stomach growled and her face cringed. She didn’t need to smell the stuff to know she wouldn’t like it.

“No way am I touching that nasty potion,” she said boldly.

“I’ve changed the formula. I added vanilla to make it taste better.”

Abby accepted it but still eyed it reluctantly. Alcohol never sat well with her system. “How much vanilla?”

“Like I’d really load you up with enough alcohol to throw your balance off. Just drink the tonic, Abby. You’ll feel better quicker.”

She sipped the tonic. Her face puckered again. She gagged, covered her mouth and mumbled in disgust, “Oh my God!
”

“I said it tasted better, not great.”

Abby continued to force the sour tonic down in sips. She could taste a hint of vanilla but the potion left a bitter aftertaste that was similar to vinegar. Her stomach gurgled and burned.

“Water,” she coughed after her last sip of tonic.

“No. You’ll dilute it,” Noel said firmly, relieving her of the glass.

Smartly, she rebutted, “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do after drinking poison? Or is it throw up?” She took several long, deep breaths. She was so disgusted she had uncontrollable spasms jolt through her body.

“Have you spoken with Valerie yet?” he evaded.

Confused, she asked, “Who?”

“Valerie. Hunter slash clairvoyant. Never stands in a crowd.”

Abby vaguely remembered the girl watching her the first night. “Likes to hide in the shadows?”

“That’s her.”

Abby swayed forward and stood up slowly, pressing down on Noel’s shoulder for support. He held on tightly to her waist and kept her upright. Her legs tingled but stood firm.

“No, haven’t bothered talking to her. Why?” she asked, taking her first steps.

Valerie was leaning over the balcony watching the hunters stretch as they prepared for their evening training session. Already bored with the view, she turned to leave. She came to an abrupt halt when Abby stepped out of the shadows and directly in her path. She pulled the musical buds from her ears. A soft and subtle tune hummed through.

She seemed unaffected by the sight before her, as if she already knew. Abby had completely healed. No bandages or scars remained. It had only been four days since her encounter with the grinloch.

Finally catching her in the light, Abby looked her up and down. Valerie had very distinct and attractive features - high cheekbones, sleek almond hair and rich green eyes the shade of moss. She too was naturally lean and semi-muscular but her lack of activity made her less firm than the rest of the huntresses.

“So, you must be the Order’s resident psychic,” Abby said condescendingly.

Sensing the annoyance in Abby’s voice, Valerie instinctively took a step back.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“Then tell me…” Abby quickly punched Valerie in the eye. She fell backwards to the floor and smacked her head.

“…did you see that coming?” she finished.

Quite some time passed before Valerie returned to consciousness. Abby passed the time watching the hunters practice down below. She stayed in the shadows this time to avoid detection. A few had potential. The rest she wouldn’t trust to send out on their own. They had just dispersed for the evening and turned off the lights when Valerie stirred.

She was propped up against the wall, faintly lit by the evening colors seeping in through the nearby window. Her puffy eye had already turned shades of purple and black.

Still, Abby had no pity for her at the moment. “I’m guessing you were removed from training duties at a really young age. You lack the skills to fall properly.”

Valerie wobbled as she climbed the wall to stand up. She caressed her face, particularly the muscles around the eye that were twitching. “Was that really necessary?” she asked with a sense of annoyance.

“Well, I thought you were psychic. You did tell Noel about a beat-down I was gonna receive right before I got it. Thought you would’ve seen that coming too.”

“My visions have no concept of time. I see past, present and future. I didn’t know it was gonna happen that night. The only way to differentiate my visions is by age appearance.” She paused, then added sharply, “Forgive me, but vampires don’t age.”

Abby crossed her arms and took two steps forward, reducing the gap between them.

“What do you know about that?”

“More than you would like,” she answered, standing her ground.

“And I take it you told the Order?”

“They don’t know.”

“Really? Cause they seem awfully nervous around me.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” Valerie replied sarcastically. “Maybe they’re recalling why you were kicked out of here.”

Abby didn’t recall getting kicked out of school but she also didn’t remember being here in the first place. She had always thought she was dismissed the same as every other hunter. Noel certainly hadn’t said anything over the years to make her think differently. “What do you mean I was kicked out?”

Valerie’s face froze in confusion. “You’re kidding, right?” she asked suspiciously, expecting another trick.

Annoyed, Abby responded, “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Remember what?” Abby asked impatiently.

In awe, Valerie responded, “You don’t, do you? You’ve actually forgotten.”

Abby’s head was beginning to ache. Perhaps she wasn’t as well rested as she thought. She gently stroked her eyebrows, releasing some of the pain. “Valerie, is it? You probably already know this, being a fortune-teller and all, but let me refresh your memory. I am not a patient person.”

Whether she sensed Abby’s frustration or knew too well how aggravated Abby could become, Valerie waved the white flag and stated, “All right, look. Consider it a blessing you’ve forgotten this part of your history. You’re better off not knowing. In fact,
everyone
is better off.”

“I’m not ashamed of my history. It’s made me who I am today.”

“That it has,” Valerie said. After a moment of silence and an annoyed expression from Abby, she added, “Fine. If you’re truly determined to go down memory lane, all you have to do is just follow the bloody brick road.” Valerie motioned behind Abby.

She turned and gazed out the window. A pebble path led to a second building faintly visible through the trees. Abby wanted to inquire more about the building, but she didn’t need to turn around to know Valerie had already slipped away.

The sun had set in the horizon, the sky streaked with shades of dark reds, oranges and yellows. The old-fashioned lamp posts had yet to turn on. She wondered if they had even updated them to make them electric. The uneven cobblestone path was in need of repair and so awkward to walk on that she opted for the forest floor instead.

The building wasn’t as old as the manor, its architecture actually resembling something from the Baroque period. The spotlights hit the decorative elements in the walls and overhangs in a way that made the building come to life.

Abby entered through the lobby doors. It was still, no one about. Not surprising since the building clearly housed children. The walls were warm with color and playful decorations. No depictions of gods and demons or weapons were found on these walls - guess they waited till they were older before they exposed them to that.

The first few rooms she passed were classrooms for various ages, from early kindergarten to young teens. Abby couldn’t remember attending classes at any point in time, though she must have attended something sometime, for she knew how to read and write when she left.

Down the hall, through the paneled glass was a nursery. One female infant was resting comfortably in her crib. The symbol of the hunter was on her upper left arm.

Abby stood dazed. Her face saddened. She remembered this room.

The year was 1798. Abby was only four years old. Her red hair was tied back in loose pigtails, her old nightgown worn and discolored.

She quietly snuck through the nursery. Her head eye-level with the baby’s bed, she smiled as the baby cooed and offered its hand through the bars. She gently played with the baby until a nurse entered, yanked her away and pulled her out of the room.

“Abigail, no!” whispered the nurse harshly. “You know you’re not supposed to play with the baby!”

Abby looked back until she passed through the doorway, her face saddened as she reached her other hand out to the baby.

Abby had never remembered anything from this part of her life before. Though she never quite expected her days here were happy, the memory saddened her.

She turned from the nursery and continued down the hall. Her eyes widened as something snatched her lower leg. Sensing the attacker was small, she withheld her natural instinct to swipe and kick it away. She looked down to a pair of the greenest eyes she had ever seen looking up at her brightly. The little redhead couldn’t have been more than four years old, all wide-eyed and excited.

“Momma!” she cried enthusiastically. The little girl squeezed her leg with all her might, unwilling to let go. “Momma, where you go? Becca saw her momma. I miss you!”

Abby didn’t know how to respond. Some time must have passed since the little girl had last seen her mother; enough that she could no longer recognize her. Abby bent down and hugged her. The little girl embraced her tightly.

It was an honest mistake. There was a resemblance with her red hair and freckles. If she had gone long enough without seeing her mother to the point she didn’t know her, Abby was quite certain her mother would not return again.

“I’m here now, sweetie,” Abby told her soothingly.

Abby gently closed her eyes. A tear slipped through. The little girl looked up to her again, face all a grin. “Come momma. Let’s play in Annabella’s room!”

Christmas time. Abby was still only four years old.

She sat in the corner behind the heavily decorated fir tree. Wooden and metal ornaments weighed down the branches. Multi-colored garland was wrapped carelessly around the tree. Tinsel glinted and reflected the candle light.

Abby watched as the other, happier children opened presents with their parents. Her shabby, colorless clothes were drab compared to the other hunters. She had no parents or presents and felt disheartened, but she wouldn’t let them see her cry.