Van

The day passed by in a blur of sleep and sick. Paula's lunch stayed down for a ten minutes before joining the rest of her stomach in the sewers. Sleep followed, but when her eyes opened to a room cloaked in twilight, her stomach lurched and sent her to the bathroom.

She crawled back into her bed, holding her stomach and willing the cramps to fade. A thud drew her attention to the floor, and she saw her phone lying on the plush carpet. She'd completely forgotten about it and would've been happy to leave it there if not for the text message that popped up on the screen while she was looking at it.

She tossed back the covers and reached for the device with her toe. It took two tries to slide it close enough for her to reach over the side of the bed, and by the time it was in her hands, a cold sweat had broken out across her skin. Spying the name Sexy Beast, she smiled. She really needed to change it- she could only imagine her father's response if that flashed at the dinner table.

The first message arrived just a minute after the last. The next arrived almost four hours later.

Sexy Beast: ???

Sexy Beast: So, I don't really know your texting habits, but I'm getting worried

about you. We don't have to chat. Just respond and let me know you're okay.

An hour later, a third arrived.

Sexy Beast: I guess you're going to force me to risk life and limb to sneak into your

house to make sure you're okay. I'm going to leave it up to you to explain to my

mom at my funeral.

Van rolled her eyes though her chest tightened with warmth. The next message was the one that had just arrived.

Sexy Beast: Okay, you've got five minutes and then I am legit coming over.

That was four minutes ago. In a panic, she typed.

Van: Calm down. Calm down. I'm alive.

Sexy Beast: 1. I'm glad you're alive. 2. I'm bothered by the fact you only responded

after threatening to come over to your house.

Van: I'd like to tease you about that, but honestly, I've been sick all day. I just woke

Up. You've not been sick, have you?

Sexy Beast: Sick? No, I'm fine. Are you okay?

Van: Just a stomach bug. Better watch out if you get it. It's bad.

Sexy Beast: I hate that you feel bad.

Van: I'm sure it's just a 24 hour bug. If I don't answer, it means I'm asleep.

Sexy Beast: Sure, sure. One bad date and you write me off.

A knock on the door stopped Van from responding, and she shoved the phone under the pillow. After her father's outburst earlier, she didn't trust him to not rip the device out of her hands if he thought she was speaking to Luca.

"Vanessa? Are you better?"

Her stomach pains had eased again, but she looked down at her arm. Purple fingerprints marred the pale skin- just as she'd expected. How kind of him to provide her with a ticket out of his house.

"Vanessa?"

"Go away."

"Dear lord," he snarled, pushing the door open. She glared at him from the bed, not bothering to sit up. "Get up and get dressed."

That was not what she expected. "I think I'll pass thanks. I was just about to fall asleep."

"Your heartbeat has been elevated for the last fifteen minutes and shows no sign of slowing down. I do not think you were or will sleep for some time."

Van scrunched her nose. "Do I want to know how you know something like that?"

"Get dressed, and you'll find out. Either way, we're leaving in five minutes."

Pictures on the wall rattled when he slammed her door closed, and she decided he wasn't bluffing. If she had to go with him, it wouldn't be while she was wearing sweats and eau de vomit. Risking a quick shower, she propped her head against the tiled wall to keep herself upright while hot water sluiced over her aching bones. She watched it run across her feet, carrying suds and streaks of purple into the drains.

Ten minutes later, she made it to the garage, hair damp and face drawn and colorless. Father looked her over, the corners of his eyes tightening with something akin to discern. But he cranked the car without speaking and backed into the night.

"Where are we going?" Van finally asked after he offered no explanation.

They'd been driving for what seemed like hours, the sleek sports car winding through narrow back roads. Skeletal branches hung low over the road, tiny scraps of dead, brown leaves clinging to the gray limbs. With each gust of wind, dozens would lose the battle, dropping to the asphalt to join the fallen. Together they scuttled before the zooming vehicle, scratching and hissing until they went airborne in a funnel.

She glimpsed all this through the tunnel of light created by the high beams, no other source of illumination existed this far out. No glowing windows or gleams of porch light pierced the blackness- just tree after tree, crowding in on them as they drove.

"I think it's time for you to understand something," her father said several minutes after she'd spoken. "You didn't seem to believe me when I told you I knew nothing about your existence."

Van considered the conversation they'd had just a few nights ago. No, she hadn't believed him, despite his attempts at emotional manipulation. Anyone could force a tear to their eyes, but she knew her mother. Knew her soul. She wouldn't have denied her child the right to know her father. Wouldn't have looked her child in the eyes and told her that her father cared nothing about her.

"What I do for a living- who I am- it's dangerous. It's part of the reason your mother left me. She didn't want that life, and she knew any children we would have would take up the same mission. It's part of our blood."

Van turned in her seat, her arms crossing over chest as she studied her father's profile. The blue glow of the dashboard highlighted the sharp planes of his face, and she could see his eyes as they moved between the road and her face.

"Are you in the mob?"

He barked a harsh laugh. "No."

"Then your story doesn't make sense. Most people who stay in the family business choose to stay in the family business. It's not hereditary."

The car slowed, and he turned down a gravel lane. After about a quarter mile, the trees thinned and a towering mansion of stone appeared. No, Van thought her hands going to the dashboard and her mouth dropping open in shock, a freaking castle. A real, honest to god castle.

Father followed the circular driveway until they were in front of the entrance Torches burned on the outside, casting an amber glow across the massive, wooden doors. The stairs leading up to the doors were heavy slabs of the same gray stone as the outer walls.

"Are those gargoyles?" Van asked, pausing on the bottom stair, her fingers gliding across the smooth, cold surface of a statue. A matching piece sat on the other end of the stairs. Massive fangs protruded from the beast's lips, and the wings were so detailed, she half expected to feel leather skin instead of stone.

"Yes. They are fallen soldiers who chose to spend their afterlife guarding us."

"Okay," she said, drawing out the last syllable and removing her hand. She was beginning to believe she could put lunatic on her father's ever growing list of things that made him an unsuitable parent. She touched the tender bruises on her arm. Right next to abusive.

"I know you doubt right now. But you will see. You have a purpose my child," Father said, putting his hand on her lower back and ushering her up the stairs. The shock of the doors swinging open without help stopped her from pulling away. Glittering white light almost blinded her- the source a sparkling chandelier of a thousand crystals swaying from the ceiling.

A dozen men and women bustled about the cavernous grand entrance- all clad in leather the color of dried blood and all walking with purpose. They froze when they spotted her father but only for a second. Someone shouted, and the people fell into a rigid line.

"Supreme," the man directly to her right spoke, pressing a fist over his heart. He was young, maybe a few years older than her. Not once did he move his eyes from her father to look at her.

"Relax soldiers." Father raised his hands and pressed them down. "I bring a new initiate to our fold tonight."

"Excuse me," Van said, her heart pounding in her chest. Some of her earlier queasiness returned. She understood why her mother might have never told her father about Van's existence- not if she was trying to escape this strange future for her child.

"Van," Father said, a rare smile crossing his face. "Welcome to the Asylum of Holy Light."