Coming Home

by Denise Randall

3030 AD

Sagira approached the field of dark domes sticking above the field of sand. A thrill of guilt moved through her as he eyes lit upon a larger one, one long familiar to her. She circled that protrusion of stone before settling her vehicle in front of it.

Hesitating, she watched the façade for some sign that her arrival had been detected. She thought perhaps it would be easier, that they approached her, rather than the other way around. She was moved to action when she noted that the sky was beginning to lighten with the coming of day. If she did not gain entrance to the Mosier Facility, she would be forced to shutter the hovercar’s windows and wait out the day inside it. From experience, she knew that it was a mighty uncomfortable way to spend the daylight hours.

Keying the door, she stepped out into a scouring wind that lifted her neatly made brunette hair, turned it to a snarled mess, and straightened the curls out of it. Furtively, she smoothed the length back down, only to have it mussed by the next gust.

She’d meant to return long before this, but there always seemed to be a reason to delay, to avoid the past she’d left behind some eighteen years ago. Mom and Dad must be furious with her, leaving so abruptly, not staying in contact with them, and essentially disappearing off the face of the earth.

Glancing back at the sky, a thrill moved through her once more, this time for the short span of time she had until true dawn arrived. She needed to be inside before that happened. Her gaze dropped to the Holocaust gleaming even in the low light of predawn. Sagira knew she should probably park it in the garage, knowing it would be a dead giveaway to what was hiding out here. Sagira couldn’t quite bring herself to do that. She had to be sure that she would be welcome first, not ready to assume Dad would just let her barge into the house and the lifestyle she had turned her back on.

Setting her jaw, Sagira stepped forward and rapped on the door cleverly hidden from casual observation by the pillar of stone standing to one side of the carved oval entrance. Nerves cropped up once more as she waited, and she extended her hearing to see what she could pick up through the thickness of wood and stone. Her only warning was several thumping steps before the door freed itself from its frame in one violent tug.

Sagira expected Cabal – Miranda – perhaps even one of the vampires who now called House Cabal their home. She was not expecting to shoot her gaze straight over the head of the person who had answered the door.

By the time she had adjusted her focus to take in the boy, he was already backing away. It was obvious the boy was young, even when he was already tall. A shoulder length fall of wavy, nearly black hair obscured the face she had only glimpsed the moment before. His retreat was that swift.

A voice echoed through the upper hall, one long familiar to her. “Nathan Arturo! How many times have I told you not to…?”

He swept into the window she could see of the inside of the house. His motion and his tirade stopped in the same instant – the moment he caught sight of his unexpected visitor. He did not even budge when the boy impacted his left thigh and clung to it as if it would be the death of him to let go.

For long silent minutes, Cabal merely stared at her.

She found herself drifting through the open door and closing the heavy wood behind her. The task was accomplished without ever taking her eyes off of her father.

Sometimes it amazed Sagira, even now, how little her dad changed over the decades. The only difference in his appearance from the last sight of him was the steadily lengthening fall of hair. He had cut it extremely short, just prior to her departure for the life she thought she had wanted. It appeared he had tired of the short length and was well on his way to returning to the long fall of darkness she remembered most of her early life. Currently it fell just past he base of his neck in the back and was tapered around the front of his face. Pulled straight down it would still hide his features, but it was parted down the middle framing his babyish face and fell to merely his chin compared to the back. Her Dad’s ice blue eyes were just as intense as she remembered them.

“Hi.” The greeting came out meek and shy, and her eyes never left her father’s face. He was still just as hard to read, both expressively and mentally, as when she was a teenager.

The boy’s small voice rang like chimes into the silence, breaking the impasse. “Who is she?”

Cabal’s gaze shifted to the boy, and he ruffled his hair and smiled. Wrapping a hand about the boy’s shoulder, he stepped them both closer to her. Two steps shy of her; he dropped his grip on the boy, reached out, and drew her into an embrace she had not been expecting.

“Where have you been?” As he released her, he locked her eyes, trying to will the story out of her. “Your mom and I have been worried for…well, since you left.”

“I’m sorry, Dad.” She shook her head. “I’d make excuses, but…they’d be excuses.”

His smile was a bit weary. “Well…welcome home.”

Her insides warmed immediately, the dread she had come here with evaporating.

Sagira refocused as the little boy gravitated closer, glancing cautiously and suspiciously at the two of them. He tugged on the hem of Cabal’s shirt in an effort to get his attention once more.

Cabal looked down, and the boy whispered as if she would be unable to hear him, “Dad…who is she?”

“I’m sorry, Nate, this is Sagira. I’ve told you about her.” His eyes lifted to her once again, “Sagira, this is Nathan – your brother.”

She had guessed as much, but she found herself still shocked deep down. After the hell she put Mom and Dad through, she had figured they would give up on kids.

“That’s my sister?” The boy curled a lip as he pointed at her, as if she was an object to despise, something slimy and disgusting.

Cabal laughed. “Don’t sound so disheartened! Go get your mother, tell her I need her up here.”

His retreat was at first reluctant, but his steps gained quickness as he reached the hall leading to the lower levels, and probably because he did not want to miss anything. Cabal watched him go for a few moments before turning back to her.

“What are you doing here?” His expression was tinted with just a hint of suspicion, other than that he seemed relieved to see her. For a moment, Sagira wondered if he thought she’d been killed somewhere along the span of years between her leaving and now.

“You never said I couldn’t come home.” She shrugged. “I figured it was long overdue.”

“I’ll say.” He seated himself on the couch, glancing down and back up at her as if to invite her to sit. She took the invitation, lowering herself to the now worn suede of a couch that was new when she was last here.

His expression darkened. “Where’s Garrett?”

Sagira shook her head. “Busy. On assignment.”

She almost said more, but by the look on her father’s face, speaking more of his job was not going to make this an easier conversation. He seemed to suspect that Garrett had abandoned her, just like he had predicted the warlock would.

Sagira followed the imagined path of her little brother with her eyes then looked at her father again. “How old is he?”

“Eight.”

She raised her brows, finding that she had underestimated her brother’s age – silently she had pegged him at ten, perhaps a bit older.

“Is he better than I was?” Anxiety crawled up to tickle her sternum and she found she wasn’t sure she really wanted that answer.

A short bark of a laugh escaped his throat. “Better? Not better, different. Believe it or not, I remember quite fondly your youth, Sagira. You didn’t give us headaches until your teen years.” He was still grinning as he went on. “Nathan’s quite a bit more rambunctious than you were, scares me sometimes with how precocious he is with his abilities. He presents different challenges than you ever did.”

“He’s gonna be a looker.” Sagira said appreciatively. “Mom’s eyes and your physique? You’re going to be beating the ladies off of him.”

Cabal’s eyes turned cautious. “Hopefully, not for a long time to come. Even better if it stayed in house.”

Sagira bit her lip, realizing what she had implied; sure her father did not want to go through another nightmare like the one she provided him.

Before more painful conversation could pass between them, Nathan returned, with Miranda in tow. Sagira rose, and so did Cabal.

“Look what the storm blew in.” Cabal stepped back to reveal Sagira’s presence.

Her mother’s face blanked for a long moment, as if not believing her eyes, and then a brief flash of anger moved behind her gaze, before she smiled and closed on Sagira.

“Sagira.” Miranda hugged her more fiercely than Cabal had, then smoothed a paling hand across Sagira’s cheek, before looking her over once more. “You look good. Healthy.”

“Thanks.” She grinned, even when there had been a promise of inquisition behind her mother’s words.

“Are you…back…?” That emotion crossed behind her eyes again. “Or just passing through?”

“I’m here for a while Mom, if you’ll let me.”

“Of course.”

Sagira could see the curiosity in her eyes, the question that begged to know why she was here and without Garrett. It even edged on her thoughts, and Miranda was quick to stomp the badgering back down again.

“Thanks.”

“How’d you get here?” Cabal asked next.

“I have the Holocaust. I parked it out front, sorry.” Both of her parents’ gazes grew concerned.

Her father was quicker to move on. “I’ll get it put in the garage for you, then.”

“I’d appreciate it, Dad. I didn’t want to assume anything.”

“You’re still family.” Her mother looked angry again, probably for Sagira’s lingering thought that she’d been disowned. “C’mon, Nathan and I will help you get settled in while your father gets the car put in with the others. That way we can all get to sleep.”

As they moved through the curling hallway, Sagira drew attention. Humans were about, of all ages, and they seemed to be working through some set of chores established by the house. They all stopped, whether sweeping, or carrying baskets of laundry, or just dashing up and down the hall as the kids were. They stared at her: the adults with vague familiarity; the kids with guarded awe. Her brother was even studying her closely.

It made her wonder just how much things had changed – how much any of these residents had strayed outside the protective walls of the House.

“How many live here now, Mom?” Sagira asked.

It was Nathan that answered, sounding way older than his eight years. “Thirty-seven vampires, ninety-five humans, one dhampir, and one, sorry, two vadaryne, call the House home.”

Sagira peered up at her mother, feeling the incredulous expression on her face. She wasn’t sure at the moment whether it was how astute the boy was, or the numbers that now resided within the walls. Miranda was smiling, even though she wasn’t looking at Sagira or Nathan.

“He likes to keep a mental record for us.” Miranda tried not to laugh at how flustered that made Sagira. Miranda peered down at the boy, who grinned at her and then shot his sister a superior expression.

“We might have a couple more vampire pregnancies by the end of the year. And the humans should add another ten.”

Sagira stared at her brother for nearly a full turn of hall, even as the conversation went on.

“Nathan,” Miranda admonished softly. “Your predictions aren’t always accurate.”

“I said might. The probability is pretty high Mom, Blaine and Lorna have been trying for years.”

“Still, let’s not count the births before they happen.” Her mother smiled and flushed. “He’s also convinced he can tell everyone’s futures.”

“Mom, I’m right here!” There was an edge to his voice that was both comic and slightly unsettling. She’d heard Dad in the boy’s voice.

Sagira allowed that information as well as the tally to roll through her head several more times; sticking on one of the terms that Nathan had thrown at her. “What’s a vadaryne?”

Again Nathan took the lead. “That’s what I am. You too.” And then, said no more.

The answer only partially illuminated what she wanted to know. She looked once more to Miranda. “It’s a term we picked up from the vampires in Italy. It’s something they coined for beings who are ¾ vampire.”

“Ah! Wait, when were you in Italy? And why?”

“It’s a long story,” Miranda met her eyes. “I think it can wait for when you get up again. For now, let’s get you a room so you can get some sleep.”

“Oh, okay.”

Miranda stopped along the hall at a familiar door. Sagira’s face fell once again. “You…” She pointed at the door struck mute by the notion.

“We haven’t done a thing with it since you left.” Miranda shrugged. “I had some crazy notion that you might come back sooner than this.”

“Mom, I’m…”

“Don’t apologize Sagira, you’re an adult; you were then; it was your life. I don’t have to agree with your choice to respect you for making it.” Her mom palmed the door and waved her into the interior. “Nathan, honey, would you got to laundry and get a fresh set of queen sheets for Sagira’s bed?”

“Yes, Mom.” Dutifully he dashed away, a blur weaving in and out of the light human traffic and deeper into the bowels of the facility.

“Trust me you don’t want to sleep on the ones that are there.”

With that Sagira took in the room. Her mother wasn’t kidding, the place was in exactly the same shape as it had been eighteen years prior – a disaster area. All the clothes she had left behind still littered the floor, the blood red satin sheets still sat helter-skelter across the mattress and dripped onto the carpet. Dust decorated ever flat surface available. The place was going to take a major overhaul, but definitely not tonight. Just seeing her old bed reminded her of how tired she was.

She would clear enough space to get some sleep and worry about the rest in the evening.

Nathan and her father both ended up showing up at her door at the same time. Her brother rushed in with the sheets, and without being told began stripping the old ones off. Sagira moved to help, feeling every so slightly guilty that they were doing her job for her.

“You’re going to have to move the Holocaust yourself.” Cabal announced from the doorframe. “I forgot it has an AI, and it doesn’t like me. I wonder how long Garrett worked that one into its artificial brain.”

“You’re just a stranger, Dad.” Sagira called from where she was pulling the fresh fitted sheet over her mattress. “I’ll talk to it tonight. Did you at least convince it to cloak itself?”

“It did that on its own.” Her dad laughed. “Got within two feet of it, and it disguised itself. Guess it doesn’t understand that I can still see the distortion of energy.”

“I’ll talk to it. Tonight. It didn’t hurt you, did it?”

He laughed again. “I saw the power it was generating; I wasn’t stupid enough to lay my hands on it.”

Sagira sighed. That would be the perfect capper to her return home.

Between the three of them, her, Miranda, and Nathan, the bed was made in less than five minutes, and her parents and her brother all stood, somewhat uncomfortably just inside the door watching her. Nathan got fidgety and left after about ten minutes at this impasse, slipping through the door and heading who knew where.

Mom was finally the one to break the silence. “Well, we’ll leave you to get settled in, then.”

She turned to Cabal sweeping one palm across his chest and nodding out the door.

“Welcome home, Sagira.” Cabal whispered that, and then slipped out the door in Miranda’s wake.

A/N: I'm not done with this one...I'm fairly certain of that. There is something Sagira is still hiding, and she is being very tightlipped about what it is. Maybe her father can get it out of her! Yes, this does have some spoilers in it...however I don't think it will totally ruin enjoyment when I get to Endgame and Of Dhampirs as parallel postings. I don't plan on going that deep into history for this little tale.

So I can't guarantee when I'll get the next part of this whipped up, but I hope it will be soon.

You'll also note that I have put the year on the beginning of the story. Easy 'nuff...it will also help me keep these things in some semblance of order in the long run!! LMAO!