Before Joubert could continue to admire Michael's tolerance for the unknown, the bell rang, and the students grabbed their books, scrambling as one determined crowd toward the door. “Read chapter three for tomorrow's class,” Joubert shouted over the din of voices and activity. His words were barely out of his mouth and the room was suddenly empty except for Michael, Nakano, and an unlikely visitor.
“ 'ello Michael,” Jean-Paul said, his French accent still thick, his voice friendly.
“Hi,” was all Michael could muster in response, since he knew Nakano's eyes were drilling daggers into his back.
“Eet eez good to see you again,” Jean-Paul added.
“Um, yeah, good to see you too,” Michael mumbled. “Bye.” Without looking back, Michael left. He didn't want to know why Jean-Paul was lurking around their theology class, and he definitely didn't want to know if his vision was going to come true. It wasn't his problem; it was Nakano's.
“Are you going to say 'ello to me too?” Kano asked. “Or are you just going to ignore me?”
Jean-Paul leaned against the wall, his head scraping against the arch of the doorway, his hair falling into his eyes. “Kano you 'ave become so ... teedious,” Jean-Paul sighed. “Eet eez time for you to grow up.”
Shocked, Nakano actually took a step back. Jean-Paul had become aloof lately, but not snippy. But maybe he was right? Maybe Nakano should just be happy to see him? It's not like he had run off after Michael, nor did Michael really look that happy to see him. No, it was obvious, Jean-Paul had come to see him because he missed him and he wanted to make up for lost time. Or not.
“I 'ave come 'ere to see your professor,” Jean-Paul announced.
“Why in the world would a chauffeur need to see a theology professor?” Kano blurted.
Jean-Paul's beautiful lips curled into a sneer filled with loathing and contempt. “Because we 'ave a lot in common. We're both French,” Jean-Paul retorted. “And we're both vampires.”
What?! Professor Joubertâa vampire!? The revelation shouldn't have surprised Nakano, but it did. Turning to the man he had always known was old, but never imagined could be ancient, Nakano asked, “Is that true?”
A slight nod of his head confirmed it. “May God strike us dead if my fellow countryman is telling a lie,” Joubert replied. After a moment of silence, he added, “Either Jean-Paul speaks the truth or once again God has proven his powers to be greatly exaggerated.”
And now the theology professor was mocking the very religion he spent hours every day teaching. Nothing made sense any more. Nakano heard himself mumble some lame excuse that he had to leave or he'd be late for lunch, and thanks to his supernatural hearing he heard Jean-Paul laugh in response. “I forget 'ow childeesh children can act sometimes,” he snickered.
Luckily, Nakano could get to The Forest on autopilot, so in a few seconds he was deep in the woods, away from Jean-Paul, away from his face, his smell, his stupid chauffeur outfit. All he wanted was to be with someone who didn't think he was a jerk, someone who wouldn't judge him for every stupid thing he'd ever done, someone he could trust. The only person who even remotely fit that description was Brania.
“We have a visitor,” she announced before Nakano even entered the cave. “How lovely.”
Ever since she had voluntarily sequestered herself in these primitive quarters, Brania's preternatural senses had become even more heightened and her typical suspicious nature sharpened. She was constantly on guard for intruders. Or guests.
“Welcome, Kano,” she said, crossing to greet him properly. “And to what do we owe this pleasant surprise?”
Fighting the impulse to let his tears flow freely down his cheeks, Nakano replied hoarsely, “Just needed to see a friendly face I guess.”
Brania was willing to accommodate. Imogene was not.
Sitting in her coffin, her back pressed into the corner of the casket so severely the wood cut into her flesh, Imogene saw two images simultaneously, one from the present, the other from the past. Nakano was standing there in front of her talking to Brania, but he was also crouched on all fours like a wild animal ripping Penry's throat apart with his fangs. Imogene didn't care which image was current and which was memory, they were both real to her. And after months of doing nothing but sitting and singing and obeying, she was beginning to feel strength and courage once again invade her body, and she was determined to use them.
“Noooo!!!!”
In mid-scream, Imogene sprang from her tomb like a coil that refused to remain pressed down any longer. She flew through the air with incredible speed and landed on top of Nakano before he even had a chance to defend himself. His back crashed into the hard earth with such force that his body buckled, head and legs flying upward. Imogene used the momentum to her advantage, clinging onto his shirt to pull him close to her face, then slamming him back down onto the ground.
Unable to hide her amusement, Brania chided her ward. “Imogene! Is that any way to greet our guest?”
Poised on top of Nakano, Imogene held tightly to his shirt and pressed her knees into the sides of his stomach. She turned to Brania, her face a mask of rage. “He killed my Penry!”
Brania wished she didn't understand the fury that was causing Imogene to act so violently; she wished she didn't comprehend the need for revenge that was turning her into something unrecognizable, but she understood all too clearly. She was no different than Imogene, except she had learned during all the centuries she had lived how to be patient. “Yes, he did,” Brania said, her voice as calm as if she were telling Imogene a bedtime story. “But that was an unfortunate mistake.”
Imogene, however, wasn't in the mood to be consoled. “It was no mistake!” she shrieked. She lifted Kano's body again and slammed him down once more, his head thumping into the ground. “He wanted to kill him, and he left me for dead!”
Underneath the girl, Nakano struggled to get free.
This was ridiculous,
he thought,
I'm a vampire and she's just human.
Well, she was human; now she was literally half dead, so Nakano didn't know the technical term for what she actually was. But she was a girl; he shouldn't be having so much trouble wrenching himself free. It was as if his hands were caught in steel traps and several tons of concrete were pressing down on his chest. He simply couldn't escape. The only chance he had was for Brania to intervene, and the only thing she was doing so far was talking; that wasn't enough. “Get her the hell off of me!” Nakano cried.
Uninspired by Kano's appeal, Brania stood motionless and watched him thrash about, wriggle his body as best he could, as Imogene held firm and hardly reacted to the movements underneath her. As disturbing as it was to see her daughter act so callously, so viciously, it was also amazing. Her actions were completely out of character. But then Brania felt the blood drain from her face as she realized she was wrong. Imogene was doing nothing out of the ordinary. She was merely acting like her old self.
As Nakano continued to fight for his freedom, Brania remembered how heroically Imogene had fought against her and Edwige, before Edwige ultimately won and infused the girl with her own hybrid vampire blood. She also remembered how Imogene had killed Jeremiah. She hadn't witnessed the assault, but she knew Jeremiah had possessed superhuman strength, so for Imogene to defeat him she couldn't have just been lucky. She was seeing a side of the girl she had thought was dead and buried, but in truth had only been asleep. She was watching the resurrection of her feisty spirit, and while it filled her with pride it also filled her with fear. Brania knew firsthand how dangerous an uncontrollable daughter could be.
“Enough, Imogene!” Brania cried. “You've proven your point.”
The girl didn't budge. “Not until he's dead.”
Cautiously, Brania took a step forward. She didn't think Imogene would strike her, but she couldn't be sure. “Remember Nakano could've killed you too,” she said quietly. “Isn't it better to be like this, the way you are now, than to be dead?”
The words had their desired effect, and Imogene loosened her grip on Nakano as she pondered Brania's interpretation of the facts. It was all the time Nakano needed to strike back. Finally able to get one hand free, he rallied his strength so he could punch Imogene in the jaw. But his swing hit nothing but air. Imogene was no longer on top of him.
“Imogene!” Brania cried out, having witnessed the girl disappear before her eyes.
Stunned, Nakano scrambled to his feet and looked all around the cave, waiting for the girl to strike back at any second. Left, right, behind, Imogene was nowhere. Just as they were about to run out of the cave, Brania saw a light flicker in the coffin, and then a shape began to materialize, a shape that turned into Imogene's body. Without saying another word, Imogene sat back down in the casket and leaned into the corner, bringing her knees close to her chest.
“What the hell just happened?” Nakano asked, his body still shaking.
Proud, yet truly frightened, Brania replied, “I think my daughter can turn herself invisible when she feels threatened.”
Shaking his head, Kano started to pace the width of the cave, the words gurgling out of him like puss from a wound. “I came here from a run-in with Jean-Paul to seek refuge,” he spat, “only to come face to face with some half dead, invisible, po-faced git!”
With one eye on Imogene, Brania sat down on a boulder that was lodged against one of the walls and smoothed out her black leather skirt. “Oh come on, Kano,” she scolded. “She hardly looked glum. Vengeful yes, glum no.”
Taking in the surroundings and this latest unexplainable event, Nakano was flabbergasted. “Seriously?! You like it here?”
Laughing at the boy's honesty, Brania replied, “For the time being this place suits me perfectly.” Glancing over at the now-peaceful girl in the coffin, she added, “And Imogene is a lovely companion. We rely on each other implicitly.”
Still unable to stand still, Nakano continued to pace, making sure to stay as far away from the open coffin as possible. “Bollocks! I don't believe a word you say!” he shouted. “I trust you less than I trust Jean-Paul!”
Not if I told you that Jean-Paul has been lying to you and he's really David's bastard son.
Brania wanted to share that piece of information with Nakano, but thought it best to keep it secret for now until she could use it to her best advantage. She did, however, recognize an opportunity when she saw one and realized that Nakano's vulnerable state was ripe for exploitation. “Has Jean-Paul told you why he's so chummy with my father?” Brania asked.
At last Nakano heard something that made him stop moving. “No,” he replied. “Tell me, what exactly is going on between them?”
Brania felt like a spider watching a curious little bug step onto her web. “I can't figure out what it is,” she said, sounding helpless and unsure. “I thought you might know something since you're so close to Jean-Paul.”
Exhausted, Nakano sat on the boulder next to Brania. “We're not that close anymore.”
Feigning shock, Brania replied, “I don't believe that.” She reached out and touched Kano's hand. It flinched slightly, unused to such tenderness. “I've seen the way he looks at you.”
Nakano was drenched in a wave of hope, so he disregarded the rational part of his mind that questioned Brania's comment. He wanted to believe what Brania was saying, he wanted to believe that there was still a chance for him and Jean-Paul as a couple, so that's what he clung to. “Really?”
For just one second when Brania heard Nakano's voice crack did she contemplate telling him the truth. But then she remembered she needed to keep her heart out of her plans and only think with her mind. “Absolutely,” she said. “There is no way that Jean-Paul can look at you and not see the wonderful man you're becoming.”
Nakano could no longer look into her eyes, so he gazed down at the dirt at his feet and started counting the pebbles so he wouldn't cry. When he felt like he could speak again without blubbering, he did. “I'm trying.”
Brania stared at the ground as well, hoping her movement would translate as contemplative and not mimicry. “You know, I've made a lot of mistakes myself, and I know I haven't always been the most trustworthy person, not to you, not to a lot of people actually,” she said softly. “But I'm trying to change, too. I'm trying to become a better person just like you are.”
This time when he felt Brania's fingers touch his chin, he didn't flinch, he allowed them to rest there and turn his face toward hers. She looked at him with such kindness, he wished he could bottle it and take it with him, so every night before he went to sleep he could open the bottle up and have kindness watch over him while he slept. “You really think I'm becoming a better person?”
“You're doing more than that,” Brania corrected. “You're succeeding.”
Brania grabbed Nakano's hands and made him stand up. “You're an adult now, and you can make your own decisions,” she said. “You can trust whomever you want. I just hope that someday you come to trust me.”