Silence stretches between us before Jaxon finally says, “I’m sorry to do this on the first night that you meet Grace, but we need your help.”
“I know.” She looks from Jaxon to me and back again. “And I will do what I can. But there are no easy solutions to what plagues you. There are, however, many, many chances for things to go wrong.”
32
One Person’s Reality
Is Another Person’s
Total Mind F*ck
That sounds…awful.
I’m more than a little freaked when I turn to Jaxon, but he just gives me a reassuring look as he rubs the back of my hand with his thumb before turning back to the Bloodletter.
He does an amazing job of relating the events since I’ve come back, so much so that the Bloodletter’s eyes glaze over only once in the telling. When it’s done, she stares at me for a few beats, then asks me to take a walk with her.
I look to Jaxon—not for permission so much as reassurance that she’s not taking me to some inner cavern to drain my blood—and he gives me a slight nod. It’s an uneasy nod, but it’s a nod nonetheless.
Not the most reassuring thing in the world, but it’s not like I really have a choice at this point.
The Bloodletter smiles when I get up and beckons me closer with one beringed hand. “Don’t worry, Grace; we won’t go far. I do my best thinking while I walk.”
The Ancient vampire leads me through a double arch into another, darker room. But the second we walk in, the room springs to life. The sun is shining, the sand beneath my boots is sparkling, and in the distance, I can see, and hear, the roar of the ocean waves.
“How—” I stumble to a stop and stare at the familiar blue of the Pacific Ocean. And not just any part of the Pacific, but my beloved La Jolla Cove. I recognize it from the tidal pools around the sides of the relatively small beach and the way the ocean washes up on the sand and the rocks in a rhythm as familiar as my own breathing.
“How did you do this?” I ask, blinking back the rush of homesick tears from my eyes. The Bloodletter has given me a gift beyond measure. No way am I going to waste one second of my time here crying. “How did you know?”
“I know a lot of things, Grace, and I can do almost as many.” She shrugs delicately. “Come on. Let’s go walk by the water.”
“Okay,” I agree, even though I know the water isn’t real. Even though I know I’m in the middle of a giant illusion. The fact that it feels real is enough for me right now.
We don’t talk as we make our way up the beach to the slowly rolling waves.
“If you want your mind and body back, my darling—” She stops to stare out over the vast ocean for what feels like an eternity before turning to face me, her eyes swirling that eerie electric green again. “It’s going to require sacrifice. Probably more than you’re willing to give.”
I swallow. “What does that mean exactly?”
But she pats my hand and simply says, “That’s something for you to learn another day. For now, why don’t you take a moment and feel the water?”
I look down and realize we’re near where the ocean should be kissing my toes if I were to move just a few more inches to the side.
“But it’s not real,” I tell her. “There’s nothing there.”
“‘Real’ is in the eye of the beholder,” she answers. “Feel the water.”
“How are you doing this?” I gasp as I let the water run through my fingers. The feel of it gets me in the gut, even though I try not to let it. But how can I not when it reminds me of all the times I was there with my parents or Heather?
“A good illusion covers all the bases,” she tells me. “A great illusion makes it impossible to tell where reality leaves off and deception begins.”
She waves her hand, and just like that, we’re in the middle of the desert, sand where there was only ocean before.
I swallow my instinctive protest, my urge to beg her to bring the water back. To bring my home back. And instead plunge my hand into the sand right in front of me.
I come away with a handful of it, just as I knew I would, and when I let it leak through my fist back onto the ground, some of it sticks on the wetness of my fingers so that I have to brush it off against my ski pants.
“I don’t understand what’s happening here.”
“Because you don’t believe what you see,” she snaps.
“But I can’t believe it. It’s not real.”
“It’s as real as you want it to be, Grace.” Another wave of her hand and a sandstorm kicks up, hard and fast. Grains of sand whip against my face, fill my nose and my mouth until I can barely breathe.