The Season of Risks Page 6
The sky looked unusually dark when I awoke the next morning, and light rain fell as I loaded my last bags into the car. The air felt swollen with moisture, almost sticky, and shreds of fog clung to the road that led to the mainland.
My destination was Dr. Sandra Cho's office on Bull Street, in Savannah's Historic District-a moody neighborhood popular with vampires. I found a place to park the Jaguar on a side street and locked the car, since it was packed with all my worldly goods.
As I walked back to Bull Street, I had qualms about my appointment with Dr. Cho. She was the kind of smart and competent person I wanted to be when I grew up. But would I be able to grow up? That was my primary question for her.
She'd been our family doctor for most of the past year, but I'd never visited her new office. The address led me to a modern, nondescript building made of brick. When I'd climbed the stairs and opened the correct door, I felt I'd entered another world: a dark green garden room with skylights, plants, a gurgling brass fountain, and long, surprisingly comfortable wooden benches. I sat only for a minute or so before she came out, gave me a hug, and led me into another room, all white, with overhead lights too bright for my liking.
"So, Ari. " She beckoned for me to sit on a white-paper-covered table. "We'll do the blood work, all the usual tests. But first I want to know how you're feeling. "
Dr. Cho had tiny bones, a serene, oval-shaped face, and long, glossy black hair held back by a clip. Her dark eyes, always alert, seemed almost too perceptive.
"I feel fine. " My voice sounded prim, childishly polite. I took a deep breath and tried to make it lower, more sophisticated. "I do have some questions. "
She waited, and I began. "I know that appearances are fixed, once someone becomes other. "
"When we become vampires, yes. "
"And I'm assuming that inside, all that stays the same as well?"
"Yes. "
I made sure my thoughts were blocked. "So does that mean we never mature? Since I was thirteen when I became a vampire, will I always think like a thirteen-year-old?"
The questions rolled out into the white room, the words dark red against its walls.
Dr. Cho smiled at me. "Ari, did you ever think like a thirteen-year-old? And, really, what does it mean, to link age with thought patterns?"
"But you must see what I'm getting at. " I forgot about trying to make my voice deeper. "Will I ever mature? Do vampires' brains change? Are we all stagnant?"
These questions, so dark they were almost black, joined the others in a shimmering block of words.
Dr. Cho put her hand on my shoulder. "Not necessarily. "
"Not necessarily what?"
"'Not necessarily' is the answer to all three questions. " She removed her hand and perched on a tall stool near the table. "You're half-vampire, remember? You're a rare case. I don't know if your body or brain will age because of your human components. No one has studied hybrids, as far as I know. "
I thought of Malcolm and his tests. "Have you heard of Malcolm Lynch?"
"The name is familiar," she said. "Yes, I heard a presentation he made at a conference. Four or five years ago, I think. "
"He's studying hybrids. "
"His work must be in its early stages, then. I haven't heard about it. "
"Do you think I should take part in his research?"
She sighed. "That's something to ask your parents. I don't know what he's testing or how risky the procedures might be. In any case, to get back to your questions: vampire brains don't grow or atrophy, physiologically, but that doesn't mean vampires are incapable of acquiring experience and knowledge, or new feelings. Far from it. I can't quote any research, but I suspect that we're quicker to gain intellectual and emotional maturity than most humans. "
She paused a moment before she went on. "But your questions surprise me, for two reasons. First, because of the emotions that lie behind them. Second, the fact that you're posing them at all. Because I'm sure you could have answered them yourself. "
This comment reminded me of my father, who frequently had told me I already knew the answers to the questions I asked-I simply needed to think them out. But he and my mother were gone. I was on my own now.
Dr. Cho stood and put her hand on my shoulder. "We can do the standard tests. See how your heart and blood look. And then I'll tell you about some of the research I do now, some of the therapies that are being developed. The good news is, whatever change you're seeking, you may have alternatives. "
I'd always felt alienated from the human world, but suddenly I felt sunk by the fact that I didn't belong in the vampire world, either. I didn't know vampire history or folktales, and I couldn't even use the secret language. "And the bad news is, I'm not one or the other. "
"All the more reason for us to say you may have options. " Dr. Cho turned away from me and picked up a sealed package containing a needle. "If you think you must have them. "
I closed my eyes and imagined myself back at Blue Heaven, with a Russian Blue cat curled in my lap. Still, I felt the needle's sting.
While I was being tested and monitored and prodded, I remembered what one of Dr. Cho's options might be: a drug called Revite, a drug claimed to make vampires mortal again. Whether it would work for someone who wasn't entirely vampire raised yet another question.
And by the time the tests were complete, I finally realized that all my questions boiled down to one: how much of me was mortal?
When she returned from her laboratory in an adjoining room, Dr. Cho declined to answer that question. She called it "a wrong question. "
"You're a complex being, Ari. I could lie and tell you your blood and organs indicate that you're forty percent human, or sixty percent. But I can't measure that distinction. And even if I could, what difference would it make?"
It might make a difference to Bennett, I thought. We were back in the green outer room now, sitting side by side on a bench.
I folded my arms. "It might affect those options you mentioned. "
"You don't need options, in my opinion. " She held up a hand as I began to reply. "Remember that all your vital signs are good. You're healthy. I'm going to adjust your tonic slightly, but that's in response to your hormone levels. "
"I still want to know about the options. "
She sighed. "There are new protocols involving synthetic growth hormones that can modify a person's chronological age. Have you heard about them?"
I told her I'd heard about dehancement, about injections like Epiform.
"Those are cosmetic," she said. "These are internal. Growth hormones produced by pituitary glands make organs and tissues reach adulthood, if you will. They affect height, skin, and bone density. And some recent research has shown that new synthetic hormones can be used to make vampires age, but they're still in the experimental stage, and the studies so far have been small and inconclusive. No one has made a long-term study of the possible side effects or risks associated with these therapies. "
"So you don't know if they work for half-breeds like me?" I hated that expression.
Dr. Cho's eyes met mine. "No, Ari. I don't know if they would work for you. And when I told you about Revite last spring, I didn't know you were half-mortal. That drug might not work for you, either. As I said, the research isn't conclusive. There are relatively few hybrids like you, and fewer still who take part in the clinical trials. "
"So I can't become human. " I rubbed my hands against the knees of my jeans. "And I can't be all vampire. That means I'm stuck. "
"You're complex, with an active brain and plenty of attitude. I don't think you have any reason to feel sorry for yourself. " Dr. Cho sounded impatient. "I have dozens of patients with serious health problems who'd change places with you in an instant. " She glanced at the clock on the wall and handed me a bottle. "Try the new tonic for a month. Let me know if it works for you or if we need to adjust the formula. "
> I felt dismissed. I put the bottle in my backpack.
"Don't be disappointed. " Her right hand made a funny gesture: the forefinger and little finger spread out wide; the two middle fingers touched in a straight upward line. It looked like twin Vs.
"I don't know what that means," I said.
She seemed surprised. "It means 'celebrate your true nature. '"
My right hand made the gesture back at her.
"That's it. It's Mentori," she said. "Most humans can't move their fingers quite that way. "
On my drive back to school, I took the back roads, and by the time I finally reached the long driveway that led onto campus, I'd had enough of driving. Luckily I wouldn't need the car for a while.
Hillhouse is called an alternative, eco-conscious school. It's a working farm, and every student has a job besides studying. Classes are interdisciplinary and rigorous but ungraded; instead, students receive detailed written evaluations. I'd chosen it because of its educational philosophy, and because of the place itself. The campus, students, teachers-all had glowed with promise the first time I visited, on a golden autumn afternoon.
Now, after only one semester, the old wooden buildings looked darker, not so much full of potential as haunted by memories. My friend Autumn had been murdered here. The FBI had been called in to investigate, but who did it, and why, had not been discovered.
I parked the car near Seward Hall and sat for a few minutes. All around me, people unloaded cars and carried suitcases, trash bags, and armloads of possessions into the building. Why do we have so much stuff? Do we need things in order to feel secure?
My own piles of possessions made me uneasy. Instead of unpacking, I went for a walk.
Away from the dormitories, across the green lawns bordering the dining hall, paths led down to the barn and the recycling plant. I walked slowly, not meeting anyone I knew, getting farther and farther from the dorms. A stream ran alongside the path, and the sound of water moving over stones took me back to that last afternoon with Cameron in the forest.
Then the hairs at the nape of my neck bristled, and the familiar tingle ran down my spine. I turned sharply to look behind me and saw no one. But I heard a cough.
On the slope above me, perched on a rock, someone with long, dark hair sat with a sketchbook braced against his knees. He looked down-a pale face with a pointed chin-and coughed again. "Hiya. "
"Hello. " I'd never seen him before, and his voice had an unfamiliar accent.
We stared at each other for a few seconds. Then he returned to his sketching, and I went on my way.
"Who's the new boy?" I asked Jacey. "The interesting-looking one?"
Jacey was my roommate and my closest friend at school. We sat side by side in the old theater building, which also served as the Hillhouse auditorium, waiting to be officially welcomed to the new semester. We'd spent the afternoon unpacking and talking about how boring our summers had been, although in truth mine hadn't been boring at all.
"Someone said he's a transfer student. An art major. From Ireland. " She pushed back her braids. When let loose, her thick, long blond hair was a presence all by itself. Her freckled skin made me think of milk dusted with cinnamon.
The new boy sat by himself at the end of a row near the exit doors. He was tall and thin. His dark hair hid most of his profile, and he wore a black suit, which stood out among the jeans and T-shirts worn by the rest of us. He must have sensed my stare, and he glanced over at me. I quickly turned to face the stage.
We spent the next twenty minutes hearing variations on the theme that this would be the best year of our lives. I hoped it might be true.
At the end of the speech, the school president read the names of the entering freshmen and transfer students. The dark boy's name was Sloan Flynn. He was an art major from Dublin. I wondered why someone would travel so far to study art at a small college like Hillhouse.
Then I wondered why I was even that curious about Sloan Flynn.
After the official welcoming ended, the socializing began. A bonfire burned in a clearing near the parking lot. Picnic tables had been loaded with food and drinks, and two kegs of beer bought by students were in plain sight, even though Hillhouse was officially a dry campus.
"What's the story?" The voice from behind me belonged to Sloan Flynn, I knew without looking. Nobody else around here had an accent like that.
"Story?" I turned around and saw his full face for the first time, and I wondered how it could be simultaneously strong and delicate. His eyes were dark and deep and had the expression of someone who'd been hurt and had survived, who was determined to never be hurt again. His chin thrust out like a challenge.
Dumb as it may sound, we stared at each other for-I can't tell how long. It wasn't leering or ogling so much as taking in the details.
Jacey came over, carrying a plateful of food. "You must be the new guy," she said, her voice breaking the spell. She smiled.
It was impossible not to like Jacey, and Sloan smiled back, a grin that changed his face completely, made him look less defensive.
I told myself I felt glad that she'd interrupted us. My first day back at school had been unsettling enough already. But it wasn't over yet.
After lighting a sandalwood incense stick, Jacey began to unplait her hair.
We were back in the dorm room, and I was already in bed. She'd asked what was bothering me.
"I was thinking about Autumn," I said.
Autumn had stayed in our dorm when she came to visit me last semester. The following day, Jacey was the first one who saw her body. Now her hands dropped to her lap. "I was hoping you wouldn't mention her. "
"I try not to think about her," I said. "But coming back to school brought back memories. "
Autumn had been a surly girl most of the time. Not someone I'd have chosen as a friend. For some reason, she'd chosen me.
Jacey's hands returned to her hair. "They never caught the guy who killed her, did they?" Her hair seemed to expand, double its width, as it was released.
"No. " I wedged a pillow under my back. "But at least they found her body. "
Jacey hugged herself. "Don't talk about that. "
"I'm sorry. " I'd forgotten how easily she frightened. She'd have been terrified if she knew her roommate was a vampire.
"You're so much braver than I am," she said.
"Not brave, exactly. I'm"-I paused to find the right word-"different. "
"Yes," she said. "Yes, you are. I've never met anyone like you. "