I dreamed of my father again last night. It wasn’t exactly the same dream I've been having, though. This time I wasn't a child, and I walked further into the forest than I ever have before. I came to a path that forked in two directions. From where I stood, it was impossible to tell where either would lead. I couldn't tell which direction father's voice was coming from. I knew that I wanted to reach him, to choose the path that would lead me back to him, I just couldn't tell which path that was.

When I woke up, I knew that I had to call mother. As afraid as I am of hearing what she has to say, of hearing her lie to me, I know the only way to find answers is to ask. Still, I spend a good five minutes staring at my phone before actually hitting the call button.

The phone rings for almost a full minute before she answers. I can hear in her voice that she's happy to hear from me. I feel a little guilty that I didn't call earlier, at least to let her know that I made it safely. But, I didn't really make it safely, did I?

"Dia, it's so good to hear from you,” she says.

"Mother," I start, "I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. Things have been hectic for me. That’s actually why I’m calling, there's something strange that I have to ask you."

"Strange?"

"Yes, mother, do you know a man named Karl? He says he's a friend of father’s?" I bite my lip as I wait for her to respond. The pause before her answer is so long that for a moment, I think she's actually hung up on me.

"Karl?" Her voice is strained. "What does he want?"

“So, you do know him?” She makes a noise of affirmation, but doesn't say more. “Mother, is it true that,” I don't know how to word what I need to ask.

"That man can’t be trusted," she says bitterly.

“He said that there was something important about father that you haven’t told me.” I can’t bring myself to say the word vampire out loud. I can just imagine how she’d react. I don’t want to give her any fuel to use against me. I don’t want to let her think I’m gullible enough to believe something so crazy, even if deep down I am starting to believe it.

“This is why I wanted you to stay at home,” she sighs as if I’ve disappointed her.

"Mother? If there’s something that I should know, please,” my voice quavers.

"Don't act hysterical,” she says. “I’m not talking about this over the phone. If you feel the need to discuss this further, you will have to come home.” I’m not surprised when the line goes dead, but I am upset. I stare at the screen, unsure of what to do next. I know mother well and refusing to give me a straight answer is not like her. She’s hiding something from me.

I should be preparing for classes tomorrow. I should be hanging out with Cass, or doing anything other than wondering what I am. There's a sense of desperation building in my chest. It feels like my entire life is over before it's even really begun. Am I really turning into a monster?

Ezra, he said I didn't have to be this thing, that I have a choice. What kind of choice can you really have over your genetics? Then again, maybe there's more to this than just genetics. I reach for my nightstand and grab the business card he gave me. I run my finger across the smooth front and wonder if I’m being too hasty. Should I find out more before I make a decision?

Maybe if I'd given Karl more of a chance to explain, I wouldn't be feeling so confused and powerless. But I didn’t. I didn’t want to know what he had to say because it would change things. I still don’t really want to know. I don’t want my memories of my father to be tainted by this—no I can’t start thinking that way. If my father was something inhuman, that doesn't change who he was as a person. It doesn't change the fact that he loved me, or how special he made me feel, or how precious my few memories of him are. Does it?

I don't want it to, and if Ezra told me the truth, then I don’t have to let it. I can choose to make this all go away and pretend that it never happened.

I pick up my phone and dial the number on Ezra's card. It rings only three times before he answers.

"Lidia," he sounds tired. "I hoped you would call, but I didn't think it would be so soon."

"I don't want to be a monster. Can you really help me?"

"I can, only if you're sure that's what you want," he sounds serious and calm, which reassures me.

"I'm not sure about anything right now. Can we meet somewhere? I really need someone to talk to about this." I'm putting a lot of trust in a stranger, and it makes me nervous.

I toy absently with the bracelet on my wrist. Maybe it's some kind of placebo effect, but it does make me feel safer. I even slept with it on last night. The thought of being watched and pursued like this for the rest of my life with just a little piece of metal to protect me is daunting to say the least.

“There’s a pub just off campus, called the Dutchman. I’ll meet you there at 2.” I start to thank him, but the line goes dead. I guess no one says goodbye anymore. Still, I'm grateful he's going to hear me out, maybe offer me some insight, and hopefully help me make this whole nightmare come to an end before it goes any further.

I shower and change into some fresh clothes. I've got a few hours before I need to leave. I wish I knew how to get ahold of Karl, but I have no idea where he might be or how I can find him. A first name isn't much to go by. So, I'm going to take the option that I have and I'm going to have to trust that Ezra will tell me the truth. I know I'll need to be on my guard, but that's true anytime you meet a man at a pub, Isn't it?

I never asked for any of this. I never asked to be special or unique. I only ever wanted to be normal. I only ever wanted to live my life. So why is something telling me that this is a mistake? Why can't I stop thinking about green eyes staring at me in disappointment?

I try to brush it off, to forget about him, to forget about how enticing it is to think that there might be some connection to my father in all of this.

I focus on the fear I felt when those men attacked me, the sense of absolute dread that filled me then. That's the world I'd be living in if I chose to stay this way. Or to become this way. I'm not really sure how it works.

I'm 45 minutes early when I arrive at the pub. I sit at the bar and order myself a rum and coke. I’m not much of a drinker and I'm definitely a lightweight, so I sip slowly and try not to think too hard about whether I'm making the right decision.

Luckily for me, Ezra is early too, so I don't end up waiting very long. He joins me at the bar and orders a whiskey. I take a hard look at him while he waits for his drink, hoping that I might be able to read something, anything, in his face.

All I see is a handsome man with a little too much stubble, not much older than me. When his drink arrives, he leads me to a table in a quiet corner where we're less likely to be overheard. I sit with my back to the corner, wary of people sneaking up on me.

"Tell me what you know about what’s happening to you." He's being careful to keep his tone neutral.

"Next to nothing. My mother never told me anything and my father died when I was little," I answer as simply as I can. “I’ve never done anything or felt anything that seemed unusual until recently.”

"Your father died?" He sounds genuinely surprised.

"Yes, when I was three." I take a sip of my drink. I hope he’ll take the hint that I don’t want to talk about father.

"And despite being well aware of the situation, your mother just didn't bother to tell you?"

"No." I don't even try to hide the bitter look on my face.

"Mother’s can be difficult," he says sympathetically.

"Thanks.”

“Since you’ve arrived here, has anything strange happened?” he asks. I’m a bit surprised. I had assumed he already knew about the attack. If he didn’t, then how did he know who I am?

“I was followed from the train station by three strange men. I didn’t get a good look at any of them. They attacked me when I was alone. I thought I was done for, but I was rescued,” I explain. He sits forward at this, his eyes intense. I stop short, startled by his sudden movement.

“Rescued by who? Did you get a name?” His tone is demanding and makes me hesitate.

I shake my head. “No,” I lie. “I only caught a glimpse before I passed out. I thought it was a dream, honestly.”

He looks almost disappointed and takes a long sip of his drink. "What you are is almost unheard of," he raises his eyebrows slightly as he says it. "Hybrids like you may as well not exist. Vampires don’t normally form relationships with humans, and when they do, they nearly never reproduce. The genetics just aren’t compatible.” He pauses and looks at me. I just nod, not quite able to meet his gaze. His tone is filled with distaste as he talks and it makes me feel self conscious.

“You lived through childhood, which nearly never happens with hybrids. You’re reaching a point now where your latent nature will begin to assert itself. There is a brief time frame before you transform into a monster.” He looks at me for a long moment, as if he wants to make sure I’m paying attention. “We're in that time frame now. You haven't lost your humanity yet. I can't guarantee anything, but there may be a way to stop the change. If we wait too long you’ll be overtaken by the blood lust.”

“What do you mean latent nature, what’s happening to me?” I can hear the edge of desperation in my own voice, and I try to reel it in. My head is filled with images of dripping fangs and gore and it makes me feel dizzy.

“There are three phases,” he says, still looking at me closely. “Your senses will sharpen. Sight, smell, and hearing more than others. These are senses that a predator depends on, and you are becoming a predator.” I can feel myself wilting under his words. “Psychic changes will come next. I don’t know exactly what that will entail, it seems to differ in each case. Levitation, telekinesis, even mind reading have been documented. Finally, the blood lust will take you. At that point, it’s too late to reverse the process.”

“And I’ll be a monster,” I interject, not wanting him to say more. “So, how do I stop this from happening to me?”

"There’s a ritual, I know someone who can perform it." He finishes his drink. His blue eyes are staring at me, staring deep into me like he's trying to read some kind of secret in my expression.

"What, like a witch?" I shake my head and smile wryly. "What's next Bigfoot? The Mothman?”

"This isn't a game," he says softly. "You need to know that I'm a vampire hunter. I’m offering you a choice. It’s not too late for you to stop the transformation you’re undergoing. If you don’t, I will have to kill you.”

I lean back in my seat. I hoped he'd be honest and telling me he's here to kill me, well that’s honest. There's something in his expression that tells me he doesn’t want it to come to that. It’s not very comforting.

"Thanks for that." I look down into my drink as if the dark liquid will hold some kind of answer. "Where does this witch live?"

"I'll make arrangements," he stands. "I'll contact you and let you know.” Then he just turns and walks out the door. My mind is racing, going back over memories from every phase of my life in search for some kind of answer.

I wish I had someone to talk to, to ask if I'm making the right choice. But I don’t, so I just order another drink.