Forbidden Nights with a Vampire(47)

 

"Betrayal of trust," Father Andrew murmured as he removed some papers from a portfolio and placed them on the conference table. "I think that would be a good place to start." He glanced up at Vanda. "I apologize for the…unorthodox scheduling of your first appointment, but we feared you might refuse to attend otherwise."

 

"You're damned right I would," Vanda grumbled. "I don't need anger management."

 

The priest looked at the cracked Sheetrock where the chair had crashed into it. "I disagree. Have a seat, please." He sat and put on his reading glasses.

 

Vanda paced toward the end of the table but didn't sit. Phil could feel the tension radiating from her. She was like a wildcat prowling in a locked cage.

 

Father Andrew made a note on the top sheet of his stack of papers. "I noticed you called Phil a traitor."

 

She scowled at Phil. "He is."

 

"After watching your interview, I can understand why betrayal would be a sensitive subject for you," the priest continued. "Do you believe your sister, Marta, betrayed you?"

 

"I don't believe anything about her." Vanda strode to the television and turned it off. "She's dead to me, just like the rest of my family."

 

"She changed you into a Vamp," Phil said.

 

"No!" Vanda spun to face him. "Sigismund changed me. Marta just bit me and drank from me till I was too weak to fight her off. Then she presented me to her new boyfriend like a dinner entrée."

 

"You definitely harbor some anger toward her," Father Andrew observed.

 

"Why should I be angry?" Vanda ejected the DVD from the player. "Marta didn't do anything. She just stood there and watched while her boyfriend changed me, and our little sister lay dying in a nearby cave. She did nothing!"

 

"Sounds like betrayal to me," Phil said.

 

"I don't want to talk about it!" Vanda snapped the DVD in two and threw the pieces at Phil. "Leave me alone."

 

He dodged the flying pieces. "I won't." He strode toward her.

 

She growled and reached for another chair. He grasped it, holding it down, and while they both leaned forward, he engaged her in a staring contest. She arched a brow and refused to back down.

 

The priest cleared his throat. "I am truly sorry, my child, for the family members you lost. Do you know if Marta is still alive? Or undead, I should say."

 

Vanda let go of the chair and turned away from Phil. "I don't know. Who cares?"

 

"She could be your only surviving family," the priest continued. "I think you should see her."

 

"No way."

 

Father Andrew clicked his pen and made a note on one of his papers. "I have a good friend in Poland. A priest who went to seminary with me years ago. I'll ask him to check on the whereabouts of your sister."

 

"I don't want to see her!"

 

The priest regarded Vanda sternly over the rim of his reading glasses. "I have an assignment for you. I want you to give serious thought to forgiving your sister."

 

"What?" Vanda looked at the priest like he'd suddenly grown two heads.

 

"How old was Marta when you fled to the mountains?" Phil asked.

 

Vanda gritted her teeth. "Fifteen, but—"

 

"She was a child," Father Andrew said.

 

"And Sigismund probably had her mind under his control," Phil added.

 

"I don't care!" Vanda shouted. "She let Frieda die! I won't forgive her. I can't."

 

Father Andrew removed his glasses. "Forgiveness doesn't mean that you condone her actions. You don't need to forgive her for her sake. You do it for yourself, so you can put all the pain to rest and start living again."

 

"Why should I live when they're all dead? Everyone I loved is dead! Next you'll be telling me to forgive the damned Nazis." Vanda ran to the door and wrenched it open. "Leave me the hell alone!" She ran down the hall.

 

Phil paused at the door, watching her. "I should make sure she's all right."

 

The priest sighed as he shoved his papers back into his portfolio. "Maybe we're pushing too hard." He stood and pocketed his glasses. "I was a bit worried when she blew up, but you seem quite capable of handling her."

 

Unfortunately, handling Vanda was about all Phil thought about these days. "You gave her a lot to think about. Let it stew for a while."

 

Father Andrew nodded and gathered up his things. "I'll be in touch, then. Thank you for your help." He patted Phil on the shoulder, then walked toward the banquet hall.