Tiffany entered the storeroom as quietly as possible, so as not to scare the spirit. Once in the middle of the room, she stopped, a little confused. What was she supposed to do now? She tried to trace the rune that Jay had taught her once or twice in the air, but nothing happened. She felt that the spirit was not far away though, it only needed to be attracted.
"Little one, little one," she said. "Come to me, don't be afraid."
How did one attract a spirit? With a toy, or a treat? She didn't have any of that... For a moment, her gaze fell on the fridge where they stored the blood bags. There were a few left inside. Maybe it would work to use them, but she couldn't take any, they were all referenced.
Blood, blood, where could she get blood? She saw a box with needles and tubes inside. Why not draw her own blood? She reached for the supplies, but stopped at the last moment. That was crazy, was she really going to use her own blood as bait?
Yes, she resolved herself.
It was a small price to pay to help Ilona.
Tiffany put on gloves, attached a tourniquet to her left arm, then carefully inserted a hypodermic needle in her skin. There, she was in the vein. She hoped no one would come into the room now, how could she explain what she was doing? Tiffany shook her head. She was just wasting time, she couldn't let herself get distracted.
She grabbed a tube, but she had to take several tries to clip it in place. It wasn't easy with only one hand. Finally, she succeeded, her blood slowly filled the tube. Tiffany held her breath, as if hypnotized by the sight. It wasn't at all the same feeling as when she was doing it to someone else.
First tube done. She followed up with a second one just in case. Once it was over, she removed the needle.
Now what?
Tiffany opened the first tube. It was strange, she usually never opened them, it was the biochemist who did the tests. She looked at the blackish red liquid for a moment, then dropped a few drops into a plastic container. Nothing happened. What more could she do?
Create a connection, like when i play with a child.
She dipped her finger in the blood and drew two lines on her cheeks.
I can play at being a blood spirit.
She dipped her finger again, then ran it over her lips. The metallic taste of her blood filled her mouth. A child would find it disgusting and start screaming at that point, Tiffany continued. Closing her eyes, she placed two drops of the red liquid on her eyelids. Just as she finished, the same humming sound as in the morning returned.
That was it. She emptied the rest of the tube onto the floor, and began to slowly trace the rune in the air. The humming got louder. Tiffany could feel the spirit closing in on her, its proximity created a kind of resonance within her core, and she could feel her blood pulsing throughout her body, as if she were subject to a gigantic inner tide.
At one point, she even felt the blood beating in the second tube. That was... strange, impossible, but somehow, she felt that it was still a part of her. There was a deep immaterial connection between them.
That's when the spirit of the blood came into direct contact with her. She felt as if she had been waiting for this for an eternity, even though no more than a few seconds had passed since the ritual began. The humming was now coming from inside her body, and was going through her, bringing unbearable tingling. She could no longer think straight.
Tiffany's hand had not stopped tracing the rune. It was as if something had taken over and led her to the end of the magic sign. She abandoned herself to the impulse. When the rune was finally completed, the tingling became even stronger, and she began to scream.
At least, she tried, but her body didn't respond.
And then everything stopped. She felt drained, and the blood in her veins was cold. On autopilot, she put away the equipment she had taken out. Then, still in a daze, she cleaned up her face and the blood on the floor. Finally, she left the storeroom, and went directly to the locker room to change.
She passed Marcus in the hallway. He looked at her with concern.
"Your nurse supervisor is looking for you everywhere.
"I'm sick," Tiffany replied in a monotone voice. "I need to go home."
He seemed surprised, but nodded: "Okay, I'll tell her."
Tiffany had continued on her way without waiting for his answer, and was already in the women's locker room. She dropped onto a bench, her head in her hands. There was something wrong, but what? She couldn't think. She could barely remember what had happened and her limbs were stiff.
I just need to go home and get some sleep.
She stuffed her blouse in her locker, grabbed her bag, and walked out without waiting. Her gait was unsteady. Her eyes kept switching off. That said, the sun did her good, even if her core remained cold, she felt that her arms and legs were starting to warm up.
She almost fell asleep at the bus stop, then again on the bus, but the more it went the more she regained her senses, and the more her fatigue dissipated. When she finally arrived in her neighborhood, she felt much better. And even more energetic than ever. It was as if her blood had gained a new vigor, and was bubbling up for her to use.
It wasn't until she was walking the last few yards home that Tiffany realized. She did it! She was a shaman, like Rafael and Jay. She had surely obtained powers, but how could she know what they were? And how to use them? She didn't remember hearing them talk about that aspect of things...
Oh, and she was probably supposed to go at the Association meetings now. She'd have to talk to Rafael about it.
Tiffany pushed open the door to her house. She didn't even have time to put her bag down when she heard her mother Kristen yell from her room:
"Tiffany! Did you get the groceries?"
Damn, so much had happened with the moving proposal and the blood spirit that she had forgotten. She was going to have to... wait a minute.
"It was your turn to go mom," Tiffany shouted back.
Sighing, she sat down on a chair to remove her shoes. When she looked up, her mother was there, standing in the doorway of the hallway. She must have slept most of the day, because her eyes were still black from the makeup she wore the night before. With the blue strands she'd done to look younger, her mother looked like a clown.
"You were out," said Kristen. "I thought you would do it."
"I was working," Tiffany said with exasperation.
"Yeah, right, that's why you're back home at this time of the day. It's not even 4 p.m."
"I was sick."
"No need to lie to me," Kristen continued. "I don't know where you've been hanging out, but you could have at least done the shopping on the way home."
Tiffany opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again without a sound coming out. Her mother wore that smirk she always had when she lectured her. Tiffany knew too well how futile it was to reason with her in such cases, but something was burning in her chest. Something that made her reject the idea of going back out to the store. She stood up:
"I need to talk to you, mom."
"You need to go to that store," Kristen replied.
Tiffany walked away and sat down at the kitchen table without saying anything. She waited, her silence expressing all there was to say. Her mother looked at her with surprise, then put her smirk back on. She turned toward the hallway and called in a high-pitched voice:
"Hank, come here!"
A grunt was heard, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps. Hank came blinking, he must have been asleep, and woken up by the concussion. He was a rather small man, about five feet tall, but he was all muscle. With his square face and unshaven beard, he looked like a thug. Maybe he was one. Tiffany had no idea where her mother had gotten him from.
"What's going on," Hank asked with annoyance.
"Tiffany need to talk to us," Kristen mocked.
The couple approached the kitchen table where Tiffany was still waiting in silence. Hank flopped down on a chair, but Kristen preferred to stand.
"Well?" she asked. "We're listening."
Tiffany took a deep breath. She hadn't thought it would happen so soon, but that was it. She was afraid to tell them, but she was even more afraid to stay living in this house.
"I'm moving out," she finally said. "Me and my girlfriend Ilona are getting a shared apartment."
Hank remained indifferent. On the other hand, a flicker of panic passed through Kristen's eyes. She gritted her teeth, and said:
"Really, you don't expect me to pay for this out of my money, do you?"
"Daddy's money," Tiffany murmured.
"What are you saying?"
"It's not your money," Tiffany almost yelled. "It's Daddy's money! It's the alimony you're extorting from him!"
"Stop talking nonsense," Kristen said in an unsure voice. "You're not really leaving, you don't realize what it's like to live by—"
Tiffany burst into a nervous laugh. She tried to stop herself but couldn't. Then she began to hiccup. In between bursts, she blurted out:
"I do everything here. Cooking, cleaning... that's why you want me to stay, for that and for the child support money."
Kristen was red with anger. "How dare you talk to me like that? I am your mother! It must be your boyfriend who put all this ideas into your head. He comes from a family of alcoholics, why do you listen to him? You know what those people are like... And Ilona? A real bitch that one! She always thinks she's better than the others, I can see it in her eyes every time she comes."
"Stop it, you don't know them!" yelled Tiffany. She was shaking with rage. Something was rising inside her, something she had never felt before. Her mother had to stop talking about her friends like that. She had to!
"Oh I know them all too well," Kristen continued in a sugary tone. "Always hypocritical, judging others while they play dirty pool, and now they turn my daughter against me? I won't stay
silent."
"You're crazy, they love me!"
"Love? That's not love. Jay is only with you for sex, that's all he's interested in like all men."
"What if I like it?" screamed Tiffany. She was losing control, she was burning from the inside. She had to control—
"He'll never love you like I do," Kristen blurted.
"That's not true, you don't love me, you're just an old hag!" The blood was pounding at Tiffany's temples, in her chest, everywhere.
Kristen was shaken, she looked at her daughter with wide eyes, then turned to her companion.
"Hank, say something!"
"It's not my business," he said coldly. "Are you going to fight?"
Kristen looked at him with hard eyes. He would get what he deserved later. For the moment she ignored him and returned to her daughter. Tiffany was still shaking, as if she had a fever. Her throat was dry, and she was starting to see blurry. It scared her, she had never felt like this.
"You're just a ingrat," Kristen resumed. "After all I've done for you! Go join them if it makes you so happy, go join your punk and that rich bitch, but—"
"Mom, I beg you, stop talking." exclaimed Tiffany, desperate. She couldn't stop it anymore, she was about to explode.
"You wish! I'm not going to let you throw your life away like this. You will—"
BAM!
Both of Tiffany's fists had just slammed into the table. Splinters of wood flew in all directions, and the piece of furniture crashed to the floor, split in two. Hank fell out of his chair and backed into the living room in a panic. Kristen was still in the kitchen, stunned. A splinter was embedded in her left arm, and blood was dripping onto the floor.
Tiffany got up and walked toward her mother, her eyes red. She stopped a few inches away from her, staring into the void, then held out her hand. Kristen froze in place, trembling like a wild animal in front of a predator. Tiffany pushed the splinter deeper into her mother's arm, causing her to cry out in pain. The flow of blood intensified.
Tiffany smiled.
"No, don't," Kristen pleaded, her voice broken with fear, but still unable to move under the pressure that was coming off her daughter.
Tiffany didn't hear her, she was hypnotized by the blood dripping to the floor, drop after drop. She raised her arm again to further enlarge her mother's wound. Scared beyond measure, Kristen screamed her head off.
This brought Tiffany to her senses. She pushed back the hot mass filling her chest and looked around. The sight of her wounded mother nearly made her lose her self-control again. Only by biting her lip violently did she manage to resist. Was it her who had done this?
"Mom, are you okay?"
"I'm sorry Tiff," Kristen whined. "Don't hurt me."
Tiffany's thoughts were cloudy, and her throat was so dry it hurt, she swallowed.
"You're okay for me to move?"
"Yes, yes, go away, and never come back." said Kristen who was still avoiding her gaze.
This hurt Tiffany more than she ever thought possible. For two years she had hated her mother with all her soul, and had never stopped arguing with her, yet a part of her had always hoped that she would eventually give her back some love. Leaving now would be... final.
But I can't stay either.
Emotions were mixing in her head. The relief of finally being able to leave, the sorrow of having to scrap her mother, the fear of what she had done with the kitchen table, and the fascination that the blood on the floor still held. It would only take a single move to turn that trickle into a torrent, all she had to do was pull on the splinter and...
I have to get out of here.
She barely took the time to retrieve her bag before rushing outside, welcoming the fresh air with gratitude. It smelled like flower pollen, with an aftertaste of car smoke. It was nice. She had left the metallic smell of blood behind.
Tiffany sat at the bus stop not knowing what to do, distraught by the latest events. She couldn't go home as she might have another outbreak. So she took out her phone and dialed Jay's number. He didn't pick up until two rings, but it seemed like an eternity. She almost burst into tears when she finally heard his voice:
"Hello, angel, is everything okay?"
"I'm not well," Tiffany stammered. "Can you come get me? I'm at the bus stop in front of my house."
"What's going on?" asked Jay worriedly.
"I can't tell you now, can you just come?"
"I'll come right away," Jay said before hanging up.
Tiffany sighed, it would get better as soon as he got here. She was sure it would.
***
Fifteen minutes later, a car sped around the corner, jumping the red light. The sound of the engine brought Tiffany out of her stupor, she turned toward the vehicle. It was Jay coming, accompanied by Rafael. The tires screeched as they stopped in front of the bus stop. Jay opened the door and rushed toward her.
"Are you hurt? Did Hank do something?"
Tiffany shook her head. "You know I don't like you driving like that," she said.
"Sorry," Jay replied. "I was worried about you, and you know that with my luck..."
He stopped when he saw the look on his girlfriend's face. "I'll be more careful," he promised.
"So, what happened?" asked Rafael as he reached their level.
Tiffany lowered her head a little ashamed. She wasn't sure where to begin.
"I bonded with a spirit," she finally said.
"What kind of spirit?" inquired Rafael. He was taking it better than she had feared.
"A spirit of blood, it was at the donation center."
"That's awesome," exclaimed Jay. "What powers did you get?"
"Uh, I'm not sure," Tiffany said hesitantly. "It makes me stronger I think?"
"So," Rafael continued, "Any loss of control or side effect with the spiritual aura?
Tiffany reeled. "Is it something common?"
"Yes," Rafael nodded, "Most new shamans go through this.
She understood better what had happened to her, it was the spirit of the blood that had made her lose her mind. At any rate, going out in the open after all this time locked up, she understood that it was restless. Why hadn't she asked Rafael or Jay for more information? She'd been stupid to do the ritual on her own...
"I hurt my mother," she breathed. "At one point, I even thought I was going to kill her."
Jay took her in his arms without saying anything. Tiffany laid her head on his shoulder, and cried silently for a while.
"Is there anything we can do?" asked Rafael once her tears had subsided.
"I'm not going back there," Tiffany said decisively. "Can you get my things for me? My clothes and my study books? I will be living with Ilona starting from today."
I don't need to worry about my mother anymore.
It will be an all new life.
