‘Yeah.’ She studied the face on the page. ‘She used to say we were twins born twenty years apart. But she doesn’t say things like that any more.’ She shifted her eyes to the next paper. ‘This is my father. I drew this one from a photo of him when he was younger. When he still cared about anything besides alcohol.’ The sketch showed a very nice-looking, smiling man standing next to a vintage Ford Mustang.
It didn’t take keen intuition to feel the waves of yearning rolling off Midnight as she stared at her father and mourned what she’d lost.
‘He’s a very handsome man. You have his eyes, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’ She touched the picture. ‘I do have his eyes,’ she said softly. ‘I wish I had him,’ she said on a whisper, probably assuming I hadn’t heard.
She grieves for him as if he’s dead.
‘Who is this?’ I pointed to a rough drawing of a pretty young woman about Midnight’s age.
‘This is my cousin Anne. She lives down in Durango. We get to see each other every few months or so. She’s really the one who turned me on to the vampires. Or on to vampire books, anyway.’ She laughed. ‘She’s a Twilight fanatic. I can’t wait to tell her about all my new friends.’
Ah, the secret imaginary playmates . . .
‘You haven’t told your cousin about the vampires?’
‘No.’ She shook her head vigorously. ‘I’m not allowed to. Besides, she probably wouldn’t believe me.’
Hmm. Maybe she doesn’t totally believe, either. Her emotions are all jumbled up.
‘Do you have any sketches of your new friends?’ I wasn’t sure if she was willing to share any of her vampire fantasy with me yet, but it couldn’t hurt to ask.
She hesitated, then walked to another couch where she’d laid out several smaller pictures. ‘Uh-huh. I’ve done several of them. I’m not sure I’ve drawn them as beautiful as they are, but you can get a general idea.’
I joined her and stared down at the renderings: one perfect ethereal face after another. If these were fragments of her imagination, her creative abilities knew no bounds. ‘These drawings could be in a gallery, Midnight. They’re outrageously good.’
‘Thank you.’ She smiled shyly and tucked her hair behind her ear. ‘But I really can’t take a lot of credit for these. All I did was copy what I saw – they really do look like this.’
She would make a remarkable fantasy artist. I hope she just has talent rather than delusions.
A lone sketch sat on one of the chairs. But this one was different from the others: she’d created this portrait with coloured pencils. Staring back at me from the paper was the most beautiful male face I’d ever seen: pale skin, light-blond hair, indescribable eyes.
What the hell? This looks like the man outside my building. The blond who waved to me from the steps of the old church. Midnight knows this man? No way. That’s too weird.
I reached down to lift the sheet and heard a deep male voice call my name:
‘Kismet . . .’
‘What?’ The room spun. Feeling suddenly dizzy, alternately cold and hot, I dropped the drawing.
‘Dr Knight?’ Midnight touched my arm. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes.’ I took a deep breath. ‘Of course. I just got caught up in looking at your amazing artwork.’
What the hell just happened? That’ll teach me to skip meals. My blood sugar must have taken a dive when I leaned over. I’ll make a quick dash out for food after Midnight’s appointment. Or maybe I’m coming down with something.
‘I’m glad you like the pictures. I was nervous about showing you. I don’t ever do that. Show them, I mean.’
Breathe, Kismet.
‘I love the drawings. And it’s great that you trust me enough to share them with me. I appreciate that.’ I smiled and pointed at the images. ‘Do you want to leave them out while we have our session, or would you like to put them away?’
She thought for a few seconds, then retrieved her portfolio. ‘I think I’ll put them away for now.’
While she gathered the art, I picked up my pad and pen from an end table and sat in my usual chair, trying to recover from the strange sensations. I practised a few seconds of conscious breathing and felt myself calm.
Maybe I shouldn’t keep blowing off my yearly exams. What if I’m pre-diabetic or something?
She started to sit across from me, then moved further away. I wasn’t surprised. After taking the huge step of exposing her inner world through her artwork, it made sense she’d need to retreat and reassert her defences.
‘So, Midnight, what would you like to talk about today?’
‘I want to talk about Dev and the vampires.’ She nodded as if she was trying to convince herself, then laughed. ‘Hey, that sounds like the name of a band.’
What? Really? No way! I thought this would take weeks.
Surprise must have shown on my face because she grinned. ‘You weren’t expecting that, were you? You didn’t think I’d tell you about them yet.’
‘You’re very insightful, and quite right – I wasn’t expecting it. You told me on Friday that Dev didn’t want you to talk about him. Why have you changed your mind?’
Is she questioning the control this boy has over her?
‘Well.’ She tapped her hands on the arms of the chair. ‘Two reasons. One, I’ve decided to be honest with you because I like you.’
‘Thank you. I like you, too.’
‘And second, because Dev told me to.’
So much for questioning his control . . . But that’s okay. Don’t jump to conclusions. There’s lots of time to tweak their relationship.
‘Hmm. I wonder why Dev would ask you to tell me these secrets?’
She unclipped her cape at her throat and shrugged it off her shoulders. ‘He said therapy wouldn’t do me any good if I didn’t tell the truth.’
Maybe this boy has more going for him than I thought. Or maybe this is his way of asking for help. Midnight is certainly fixated on him.
‘How does the idea of telling me the truth make you feel?’
‘A little scared, because I’ve never told anyone about this before. But I liked what you said last time about me being courageous. So that’s what I’m trying to be.’
That’s progress.
‘Wonderful. Being emotionally courageous can be a difficult thing. It’s great that you’re challenging yourself.’ I gave her an encouraging smile. ‘So, the vampires. Tell me about them.’
I’m picking up strong intuitive feelings about Twilight and Vampire Diaries. I wonder which one most influenced her fantasy?
‘What do you want to know?’
‘Why don’t you just start at the beginning?’
She nodded. ‘Okay. I met the vampires right after I graduated from high school last year. My friends all went down to this cool club that used to be a huge old church in the funky section of downtown – it’s called The Crypt. It’s only a few blocks from here. We’ve got the best fake IDs, so we just slide right in. But it’s weird – even though we’ve got the perfect IDs and they let us in, they never let us buy alcohol. If we go up to the bar, the bartender just laughs at us. Pisses me off. What’s up with that?’
‘Hmm.’ I scribbled notes on my pad. It was always a delicate dance to get the words on paper without letting my clients feel abandoned by my split attention. I always wound up with a cramp in my hand after each session from all the fast writing.
Interesting that the club won’t sell drinks to her. Maybe they’ve got in trouble for serving minors before?
She worried her bottom lip with the tip of one of her fangs, as if it gave her time to think before speaking again. ‘Anyway, there are several levels to the club and one of them, down in the basement – we call it the dungeon – is private. There are curtains over the doorway, but one time, my friend Emerald and I, we waited ’til the guy who was guarding the door left for a minute and then we sneaked down and peeked in through the crack and saw all these amazing people,’ she reported, an expression of awe on her face from the memory.