The trip to Baia was uneventful. Most of the time, I didn't think about anything at all. I would listen to music or try to read a book, but my brain was sluggish and I couldn't process the words printed on the pages, or the melody blasting in my ears.
Eventually, I found myself in front of Mark and Oksana's house. I didn't know exactly how I got here; the last tangible memory I had was renting a car. I looked around through the familiar landscape. I should be happy for being here after such a long time away, however, I felt… indifferent.
Their one-floor house was beautiful and cozy. I didn't know why, but it made my chest ache; the first spec of emotion I had felt in hours. For a second, I thought about turning around. I didn't know how I would deal with seeing familiar faces and explaining my situation. They would probably tell my family I visited and things would be awkward.
What was I thinking? I couldn't just walk through their doors and tell them about Rose. Being this near people I cared about would only compromise my mission. Cursing myself silently, I turned around, heading for the car when a familiar voice asked from behind me, "Dimitri?"
Damn. I took a deep breath before facing Oksana. Her gentle, beautiful face showed confusion and concern. I wondered what my aura looked like. I forced a smile and greeted her in Russian.
"I'm sorry," I said, "I thought about coming by but I didn't want to disturb you." She smiled genuinely at me then. "Don't be silly, Mark and I missed you. Come, I'll make some tea and we can talk."
I had no choice but to follow her inside the house. I was aware that Mark would already know I was here because of their bond. As I sat down in their kitchen, she started preparing the tea and I heard the back door open. Mark walked in and greeted me happily, heading for the sink to wash his hands. Their dynamic had always amazed me. Of course, they could read each other's thoughts, but I always knew there was more to it than that. They had a sense of completeness around one another like you were the same person divided into two bodies. Their love for each other was so obvious on their every action I had to look away.
"It's been a while, Dimka," he said, smiling. "How's America?"
I tried to make small talk but I could tell they weren't fooled by my act. They knew that there was something going on. I felt a strange sensation in my head, then heat followed by coldness. My eyes shot up to where Oksana was sitting, her expression apologetic.
"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it," she explained. "You aura is all over the place and you look… so lost." I shrugged. Not even guardian training could help hiding things from Spirit users and their intrusive access to auras and mind reading. "It's okay," I said simply.
"It's more than that, Dimka," Mark intervened, after a moment of awkward silence. "You are numbing your feelings. This isn't healthy, and we can't help but wonder the reason why. Is that why you came here?"
I sighed. It was better to get this over with. There was no denying that I wasn't myself, but I needed to find out what they knew. Besides, I knew they cared about me and would do their best not to judge.
"I'm on a mission," I said, after a moment of silence. Oksana poured a cup of tea and placed it on the table in front of me. "It's not official, I…" I hesitated, in a loss for words. "I asked for time out from my duty as a guardian to look for someone."
"Is this someone a Strigoi?" She asked. I nodded, not sure how to explain things. I didn't want to open up. Running to someone else with my problems and expecting a solution wasn't my style, yet even if I sometimes managed to shut down my feelings, I was still hurting. So, I took a deep breath and started talking, keeping to the most basic information.
"This person used to be bonded to a Spirit user." They looked surprised by this information, but I didn't stop to let them process it. "She had shadow-kissed abilities. Strigoi are undead, so I just assumed she couldn't have kept her powers once she was turned, but I heard something a while ago that hinted to the contrary. So, I thought about coming here and asking you about how the bond works since you are the only living bonded pair I know of."
They looked at each other, faces full of concern. Mark was the first to talk.
"It is impossible for her to have kept her powers after being turned," he said, and I exhaled in relief. "Being shadow-kissed means we walk through the realms of the living and the dead, and, as you pointed out, Strigoi can't because they are neither. Also, the dead hate Strigoi."
As he stated things calmly, his face revealing nothing, I could tell he was keeping something away from me. I replayed his words in my head. "Can the dead harm Strigoi?" I asked.
"Not physically," Mark explained. I waited, but he didn't say anything else. "So," I began, "if a shadow-kissed person is turned, the dead they once could see can harm them mentally?"
He hesitated. "Only during the transformation, while she would still have access to her powers. Once complete, only another shadow-kissed person can turn the dead against her. I don't doubt that the transformation was painful to this person because I don't know how the ghosts would react during the process, but from my experience, I don't think they were friendly."
I stared through their windows. I could remember Rose's pain when the dead sought her out in the plane from Court. Back then, they weren't trying to hurt her. I shivered.
"I'm sorry, Dimitri," he said. I didn't answer. I didn't even look at him. "I wish I could help you, but I don't think you should be looking for her. You need to grieve and go back to your life."
"Is that what you would do if Oksana was turned?" I asked, simply. When I looked up I could see Mark was torn. He didn't want to support me on my foolish suicide mission. He wanted what was best for me. But he was trained the same way I was and knew what Strigoi were capable of. Surprisingly, it was Oksana who broke the silence.
"I would wish for him to move on," she said. "We know we can't stop you from doing whatever you're planning, but you have to see your family first. You have to do it for them. Go home, Dimitri."
I knew she wasn't kicking me out of their place, she was just stating something she believed in. I thought about going home and seeing my family. My mother, always welcoming and full of love, would be happy to have me back under her wing. My sisters, my little nephew, even my grandmother would celebrate my return, no matter how brief it was. Yeva would kick me out eventually, but I knew she missed me as much as I missed her.
Going home could give me a sense of normalcy. If I never returned from my mission, this could be my last chance to tell my family that I loved them. So I finished my tea and headed out after they promised they wouldn't discuss my visit with anyone.
It wasn't until much later that I realized Oksana had compelled me.
It was weird, being outside the house I grew up in and feeling so lost, like instead of a few years I'd been away for several decades. I didn't know what to expect. I was afraid of meeting my family. I was afraid of their questions.
I had to man up and face them, though. I knocked on the door and heard someone walking inside the house. The door opened, revealing a disheveled Viktoria. She did a double take when she saw me, like she couldn't believe it was really me, but jumped in my arms, squealing happily.
I could taste bile as anxiety crept through my chest and my heartbeat quickened. I didn't know why I was reacting like this after being hugged by my own sister. She was different from what I remembered, looking more grown up. When she let go of me, she started asking questions at top speed and I didn't know what to say or how to react.
That was when I heard my mother's voice approaching. "What's the meaning of this fuss, Vika? Who is there?"
"Dimka!" Vika answered. I was on the verge of a panic attack now.
My mother's face appeared by the door then, and she looked so happy I started feeling guilty for not sharing their enthusiasm. "Come on in, boy! You'll catch a cold," she said, hugging me fiercely.
My whole family seemed ecstatic to have me home. Karolina and her two children greeted me happily, and so did Sonya. She was in an advanced stage of pregnancy. I felt bad for not knowing about this and having no idea who the father was. Yeva was the only one who didn't look thrilled to see me. She gave me a knowing look, piercing me with her eyes, and didn't say a word.
My mom poured a shot of vodka for me as I sat down around the table. I welcomed it, drinking without a second thought. None of them seemed to notice that I was about to have a breakdown, so they kept asking me questions I did my best to respond. When they asked what I was doing here, I lied that I decided to take some time off to visit them. They told me the news on almost everyone in the village and how things were in our own household. Vika was on vacation for Easter, and Sonya was working at a nearby drugstore. Karo was dating a dhampir guy.
It was getting harder and harder to breathe and not even the vodka could help me calm down. "I'm sorry, it was a long flight," I said when I couldn't stand the conversation anymore, excusing myself from their company. "Where can I have some sleep?"
My mom smiled at me, clueless to why I was avoiding them. "You can have your old room. Vika can share with Karo while you are here. Do you need anything?"
"No!" I said, a little too quickly. She frowned at me and I felt like shit. "Sorry, I just really need to sleep. When I wake up I can tell you guys everything. And I could sleep on the couch, if you'd like, Vika."
She smiled at me. "Don't be silly. I'm the one who invaded your room."
My mom and Karolina were eyeing me warily, like they finally understood there was something off but couldn't put their fingers on it. Sonya seemed tired, and Vika went upstairs to grab a few things so I could have the room. Yeva was nowhere to be seen.
I went upstairs. Vika had already left the room when I walked through the door. Most of the things were exactly the same, but my sister had redecorated: the walls, once bare, were full of posters of her favorite bands and photographs of her friends. The bookshelf was empty. There were clothes hanging everywhere, including the foot of the bed. Absent mindedly, I started organizing her stuff.
This was my home. This was my family. Why was feeling like I didn't belong here? Why was I homesick?
Author's Note
Hey there, human being!
I hope you liked this chapter. I would like to hear from you: how do you think this story will turn out? I have it all planned in my head, so far, and I'm really curious to know your thoughts on the plot.
For the ones that reviewed the story as guests: I can't answer you via PM but you guys are amazing. Thank you to all of you who took the time to review, follow and favorite the story.
This chapter's song is Homesick, by The Cure.