CHAPTER 18

Morning soon broke while very little was spoken to anyone all the while wishing Reginald’s recovery would be successful. In the midst of stirring her tea, Amy placed her hand on her head unsure what’s to become of the future. Turning her head around as Cecillia, appeared asking if she slept, Amy shook her head, “Vlad and I were with Reginald until morning. Cecillia, I don’t know what I’m going to do if I lose Reginald. It surely would devastate this family, let alone Lauryn.”

"You mustn't think like that Amy," Cecillia said, sitting down at the tablet with a cup of coffee. "He's in pretty good hands right now, I would say, and I'm sure that Simon isn't going to stop anywhere short of saving Reginald's life, if it's the hardest thing he will ever have to do." Smiling, she then stood, going over to the refrigerator and opening it, looking around inside. "I guess I could try and make a simple breakfast. Maybe some eggs and sausages and toast? I'm sure that Reginald needs to eat, as well as everyone else," she said, pulling the ingredients out of the fridge.

Upstairs, Simon entered Reginald and Lauryn's bedroom, finding Lauryn awake and over by the french doors leading to the balcony. "Hows he been?" Simon whispered, going over to her and putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Asleep mostly," Lauryn said, looking at Simon with red, teary eyes. "He woke up one or two times moaning and tossing and turning, but went back to sleep almost instantly. Oh Simon, if he dies, it's going to be all my fault. It was my fault he got bit in the first place! It should have been me!" She said, then bursting out crying as Simon wrapped his arms around her.

"Nonsense," He finally said after a few moments of letting her cry. "As hard as it is for you to comprehend that this is all real, you have to realize that Vladimir, Reginald's father, really had little choice in what happened. He had been kept captive for two days and who knows how long before then he had fed. But believe me, he would just as soon as catch himself a raccoon or big ol' grizzly bear before hurting a pretty, and pregnant, little lady like you," he said, holding Lauryn back away from him as he wiped her face. "Don't try to go out of your way to be the victim in order to protect that hard headed man of yours, because he will always try even harder to protect you. He's an Armâge. He's the son of Vladimir. It's in his blood to protect his family, even if he has to die trying. Don't try to take on that responsibility for yourself."

Looking over at Reginald, feeling a little better after Simon had spoken to her, Lauryn then laughed a little. "Going back to your story, I guess that makes Reginald the big ol' grizzly bear," she said, as Simon joined her in a good little laugh, before going over beside of him and sitting down.

"Reg," Simon spoke, placing a hand on his forehead, relieved that he was free of fever and had a nice color about him. "Reginald my dear boy," he called again, watching as Reginald started to stir a little, soon opening his eyes.

Reginald groaned opening his eyes then closing them. He didn't recall everything that happened to him but remembered having great pain on his neck.

"Simon?" Now staring at him. "What..happened to me? I remember seeing Father...he was sick. Is he okay?"

“Yes, boy, he is fine,” Simon spoke, sighing as Reginald started to drift off to sleep once again. As the bedroom door then opened and Cecillia walked in carrying a tray with some food on it for Reginald, Simon stood, going over to her.

“I don’t know that he’s going to eat any of it, but I’ll try my best to get it in him,” Simon said, kissing Cecillia then turning to Lauryn. “You should go downstairs with my wife and get something to eat for yourself,” he commented, seeing she didn’t really want to. “Now go on now. Reginald will be fine while you are gone. You have to remember you have a baby to feed as well,” he added, finally convincing Lauryn to join Cecillia and Amy downstairs in the kitchen.

After the two had left, Simon placed the tray down on top of the night stand, then went back to Reginald, pulling him up in bed with a pillow propped behind him. “Reg,” Simon called, slapping him on the cheek lightly. “Reginald, you need to try and eat something; build your strength back up.” he said, relieved that Reginald opened his eyes up once more to glare at him.

“Simon, I just don’t think I can . . .” Reginald said, his eyes feeling heavy.

“Nonsense. You can and I’m going to help you,” Simon encouraged him, picking up the tray of food and sitting it down on Reginald’s lap. “Look here. At least eat the eggs if nothing else. Those are always good for you.”

“My head is pounding, practically killing me. I really don’t think I can eat this food Simon,” Reginald said once again, but bringing a piece of toast up to his lips, attempting to stomach it, but instead vomiting on himself and the bed and the food.

Remaining calm, Simon stood, shoving the tray of food to the side as he slung back the covers. “Alright then, at the very, very least at this point, you can at least get a nice hot shower. That should make you feel a little better,” he smiled, as Reginald batted him away, trying to cover his face with a pillow but having it jerked away by Simon. “Come on now Reginald. Don’t act like that. Let me help you. Let me at least get you cleaned up so your wife doesn’t come back in to see you like this.”

“Alright, alright!” Reginald cried, slinging his legs over the edge of the bed and standing up, but losing his balance as Simon grabbed him. “Easy does it. You just woke up from a pretty terrible night; let me help you out all I can.” Leading Reginald down the hall to the bathroom, Simon sat Reginald down on the toilet as he turned on the water in the tub, letting it warm up before turning on the shower. “Ok, it’s ready for you now,” he said, starting to walk towards the door.

“I thought you were going to help me all you could?” Reginald then called out, as Simon looked back at him. “I mean, I feel like my head is spinning and I potentially have to vomit again and quite possibly may have gotten drunk or something last night, so if you wouldn’t mind, you can help me get from here to there without busting my head open.”

Nodding, Simon went back over to Reginald as he stood, then helped him get undressed and into the shower. “Just hold onto the towel holder there so you don’t fall,” Simon instructed, dumping a clump of shampoo on Reginald’s head. “Now, you’re all ready to go, just holler when you’re done. I’ll just go wait over by the door.”

Standing under the warm water, Reginald let the messaging stream hit him in the face as he closed his eyes, relaxing. Still thinking about the previous night, he couldn’t get it through his head what could have transpired He remembered being in the woods about to get back to the hotel. He remembered running into his father. He even remembered hugging his father and then he remembered Lauryn going to hug Vladimir only to have those white fangs . . .

“Simon!” Reginald yelled, nearly losing his balance as he grabbed onto the towel holder as the shower curtain was pulled back. “My father is a vampire!” he yelled, finally remembering the night before. Stumbling to get out of the tub as Simon helped him, Reginald went over to the mirror, glaring back at himself and his patched up neck. Jerking off the bandage, he exclaimed, turning back to Simon. “He got me! Am I dead?!”

Groaning slightly, Simon grabbed a towel, wrapping it around Reginald’s waist as he led him back across the hall to the bedroom, sitting him down on a clean section of the bed.

“Reginald, you are not dead. Yes it is true you were very close to death, but you never reached said point, and I hope to never see it when and if you do.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I means, Reginald, that yes, yes your father is a vampire. Yes your father acted in mere instinct last night, and yes, you reaped the unfortunate consequence of it. Myself and Ange did the best we could on you, but I honestly don’t know what will become of it all. I’m afraid we all won’t know, not really, until something happens.

Sitting down on the bed beside of Reginald, Simon turned to look at him, realizing Reginald didn’t really know how or where to start processing everything.

“Your father, uncle, mother, even myself, we are all not from this day in age. As I am sure that your wife is soon finding out downstairs for herself, I might as well tell you what I can or will, and leave the rest for your father as his history is his own to tell. We were all born in the late 1700s, however, as it’s not very hard to believe, I am actually the oldest in both life, and death. I was born October 12th, 1762 in London, England, to a poor blacksmith and housewife. I had a younger sister. When I was old enough to do so, I worked and later took over my father’s blacksmith hut, which is how I met your father and uncle. They were just young boys at the time, around ten or so. They would come by my hut all the time to buy nails; they worked on a ship you see, helping to repair and what not while it was at bay. They didn’t really live with anyone other than a man that owned the building and looked in on them off and on, so I would help them out when I could, and we would occasionally go off galavanting. Your mother, well, she caught the eye of your father when she was a little thing and he much older than she. I’m sure now a days you wouldn’t think of it as a cute thing, but back then, it meant something. They never found each other again, until just before 1970, not long before you were born. Now my wife, Cecillia, she is older than she looks, born in 1952, but she is not dead.”


“But you are dead?”

“I am dead, but I am living. I died a long time ago at the hands of someone I used to love. I was cursed to an eternal life of black magic. I was among the living dead when I met your father and uncle. But my wife, she is immortal. Call it, a drink from the fountain of youth. Never to age, never to die. A curse taken in order to never leave the one whom she loves. Oddly enough, it used to be your uncle before I came along. Good thing I came when I did,” he smirked.

“This is all so much to take in,” Reginald sighed, looking at Simon. “I always had a feeling that something was different about you all of these years, but I never imagined it was this.”

“If you liked me less, I think I would understand. My life and history isn’t exactly something I go around talking about to everybody, because it’s just too weird, too strange, too . . .”

“Unbelievable.” Reginald interrupted, standing. “I don’t feel any different towards you than I ever have, Simon. You were the closest thing that I had for a father all of these years before mine came back. You taught me how to love and how to respect someone, regardless of who they are. It would be wrong of me to throw all of that away now, just because I know about a grey area of your life that you never, necessarily, intended on telling me about.

“Thanks, kid,” Simon smiled, standing as well as wrapped an arm around Reginald’s shoulder. “Go on down to my bedroom closet and find yourself something to put on and I’ll have your mother wash and return your soiled garments in the bathroom. And I’ll change out this bed while you’re at it,” he said, seeing Lauryn come back into the room, knowing just by looking at her that she knew all of what Reginald knew, if not more.

“He’s going to be okay, I believe,” Simon called out, winking at her, as Lauryn smiled in return, before helping Reginald go get changed before resting more.