Petra could scarcely believe how well things had been going lately. Not only was she surprisingly enjoying her high school friends and life, but her love life had improved as well. Vince had shown with a few gestures here and there that he could behave, and that he would do anything for her. Furthermore, she’d come to terms finally with her feelings for Brandon, and it seemed as though he reciprocated. He’d taken her up on her offer to feed from her, and it was…well, there were no words to describe how it – no, how him doing it – had made her feel. In fact, here lately she often found herself second guessing to make sure she wasn’t in a dream as far as her love life went.
The only thing that had been marring her happiness recently was that she’d been sleeping like absolute crap lately. Bad dreams to hellish nightmares would plague her nights, and she’d either wake up frequently, or refrain from sleeping any longer so as not to deal with it. She’d even gone so far as to ask Emilio for assistance in staying awake so that she didn’t have to experience them, and asked him to not relay just how bad things had been. It’s just a phase she kept telling herself. It’ll go away soon. The problem was, it didn’t, and it was beginning to affect her.
At school, she was tired, and would periodically nod off for a bit in class, occasionally getting into trouble, though it was never anything serious. Petra still made it a point to spend time with her friends – not being alone when she fell asleep helped a little, so she snuck in sleep that way occasionally. There was one incident though, when she was abruptly woken up, and in a state of high alert and panic, feeling the need to be on the move.
“Petra, what’s wrong?” Shiloh asked, concerned.
“Just a really awful dream.” she said with a sigh. “Sorry, I was just startled.”
“It’s alright. Hey, do you want to go back to sleep?”
Petra shook her head. “No…it was a bad one, and I’d rather stay awake for now. Thanks though.”
“Sure.” Shiloh said, and they resumed their movie, though Petra was fidgety, feeling the need to get out and just…drive.
When it was time to leave, she did just that, driving through the city to an office building, finding herself stopping in front of it and just staring as she parked. She felt confused…why was she at an insurance company? She still felt drawn, so headed for the building, finding it locked. With a brief looked around, she smashed the glass and stuck her arm through the broken glass, moving her hand and arm until she found the lock and turned it in order to let herself in. She’d been fortunate not to cut herself badly – only a few nicks. On a mission now, she strode through the building and found the stairwell, opting for it instead of the elevator, and made her way to one of the upper floors.
She could feel herself getting closer…but to what? She moved faster to get to the pull she was feeling, sprinting through the halls until she found it, placed her hand on the knob, and burst into the room, looking about for the source of the pull.
“It’s about time you got here.” a smooth voice said in a dangerous tone. Behind her, the door shut and locked, and she looked about widely for an escape – but she only saw a window, several floors up from the ground. It would have to be a last ditch effort. Swiveling around in the office chair, in a very villainesque fashion, was Alaric.
“You…you’re dead.” she said, incredulously.
“Fortunately no. Someone far more loyal was able to ensure I only ended up in torpor. You, on the other hand,” he said, rising from his chair. “Have gotten away with betraying me for far too long. A Kindred with his vitae wouldn’t have put up with one, let alone three violations.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” she spat, eyeing the window on the other side of the room.
Alaric ticked off the counts on his finders. “Being a woman, trying to kill me, and consorting with the enemy. Tell me, how long were you in league with him before you tried destroying me?”
“I wasn’t, and you know it.” she said. For the first time in a long time, she felt afraid. She knew what he’d been capable of at the time, all those centuries ago. But now? Who knew how long he’d been active, and honing his skills.
“You have a choice. Do the proper thing and submit to me so I can render punishment or…suffer a worse fate.”
“I will never submit.” she scowled.
“I thought as much. You’ve been thoroughly tainted by a pretender. A lesser vampire, if you would.” he said, his disgust for Brandon, his clan, or both clear in his tone.
“He has more honor than you ever will!” she yelled, and attempted to rush him, hoping to bowl him over enough to get to the window. She got a few steps away before her arms were grabbed, and she were pulled backward and held in place.
“My little glücksbringer, did you forget that it was I that cultivated your talent? Gave you your name?” he smiled slyly for a moment. “There must be some fondness there for you to have kept the name I gave you. Certainly you could have reverted to Nikolaus, or whatever you were known as before that. Yet you kept it.” he paused in front of her. “I wonder why?”
Petra glared at him as she struggled against her captors, then spat on him. He glared, holding her angry gaze. “Sleep.” he commanded, and soon, she slumped to the floor. She had no way of knowing how long she had been out for, but she knew she felt groggy and panicky when she began to awake, hearing a whisper of voices in German.
“Finish the spell, before she fully awakes!” Alaric snapped.
“Stop interrupting then!” someone else answered. There was some low chanting – the sound of a few different voices. Some more time. She tried to move, but her limbs felt heavy. Why couldn’t she move? After some more time had passed, someone spoke again.
“There, it’s done.” the same voice from earlier said.
“When will it go into effect?” Alaric asked.
“When she next falls asleep.” the previous voice – a female, Petra thought – answered.
“Finish the arrangement. I’ll wire the money to your account once it’s c complete.” Alaric said.
There was some noise and scuffling – oh why was she having difficulty moving, or even opening her eyes? – and she felt herself being carried out, and placed in a vehicle. She was in the passenger seat, and being driven somewhere – quite a way, it seemed – before the vehicle stopped, and she was removed from it, and placed behind the wheel. Her hands were placed on the steering wheel, and someone leaned over her to move the gearshift to drive. Her foot was then placed on the pedal, and a force of some kind pushed down hard on her leg, so she accelerated quickly 0 right into something hard, and crashed.
Petra’s body had been jostled hard in the crash, and now she had an idea of what might be causing her to not be able to move, suspecting a spiked drink forced down her after she had been forced to sleep. Likewise, her head had slammed against the car door before smacking against the airbag, making her feel woozy. The last thing she remembered hearing was the distant sound of sirens.
When she didn’t arrive home before Brandon had to sleep for the day, Emilio suggested that perhaps she was just staying overly long with Vince or one of her new friends, feeling sure at that time that she was alright. It was mid-afternoon before someone contacted the house.
“Decacious residence.” Emilio said upon answering the phone.
“I’m looking for the guardian for Ms. Laskaris. Is this he?”
“No, I’m sorry. Mr. Decacious is in a meeting. Might I take a message?” Emilio stated, figuring perhaps she’d just gotten into some asinine trouble at school.
“Inform him when he’s able to get out of his meeting that Ms. Laskaris is in serious condition at St. Joseph’s hospital.”
“I…I will. Thank you.” Emilio said, hanging up. He was in shock. He’d been certain that Petra was fine, and now here he learned she wasn’t. What had happened to her that she’d ended up in the hospital? This was a complicated issue. Brandon could not make it there until the sun had set, and they weren’t likely to let anyone in to see her unless it were Brandon. Furthermore…he’d failed his master, and that would not bode well for him. Nor would Brandon be pleased, he felt.
Abandoning his usual duties, he made his way to his room in order to meditate. He did not know how this might affect his magic, but he was fairly certain Paradox was likely to bite him any minute now, so he worked to make sure wards were still in place over his room, to prevent anything that happened from spreading to the rest of the household.
In due time, the backlash came, hitting him violently and wrenching him internally. He’d never failed before, and it were as though all the years of potential failures had built up into one giant backlash that nearly killed him, and would certainly leave him out of commission for some time. Magically, at least, he would have to stick to the minimum for a few days, likely. Curled up in pain on the floor after the backlash had had its way with him, he slept, needing the recharge, hoping to be awake before evening so that he could wake Brandon as early as possible.