Forbidden

Family Dinner

Van

When Saturday arrived again, Van felt as if the weekend before had been lived by someone else. That girl did normal things like sneak out of the house and go on dates with handsome boys. In one short week, that girl had disappeared, and it was all Abe Helsing's fault.

Van speared the green bean on her plate. Father sat at the head of the table. Gabriella dined on his right. They both ate with elegance- wrists bent and index fingers pointing towards their plates. Father occasionally set his utensils down to scroll through his phone. The wife paused between every tiny bite, patting her puffed lips delicately with a linen napkin before pushing another green bit about the plate as if that might convince someone she'd eaten more than she had.

Gabriella caught Van watching her. Checking to see if her husband was watching, she offered her stepdaughter a tight smile that turned into a frown when Van didn't turn away.

"Is there something amiss Vanessa?" Gabriella asked as she picked up her wine glass. No tiny sips for her. No, she downed half the glass before setting it on the table.

Just wondering if you know your husband could impale you through the heart with is butterknife without getting up from his seat.

"No, Gabby. Nothing is wrong." Van stabbed another green bean and wished it was one of Wanda's bacon burgers.

Gabriella cleared her throat. "I do wish you'd call me Gabriella. Gabby sounds so informal."

"Well, you are my stepmother. I didn't think we were supposed to stand on formalities where family is concerned." She knew she was laying it on thick, but after a week cooped up with no one but her father, Trixie, or other kool aid drinking novices, she was ready to go insane.

"Gabriella suits me much better than Gabby."

"Of course. So long as you start calling me Van."

"Vanessa," Father looked up from his phone. For the first time in a long while, displeasure colored his expression when he looked at her. He'd been delighted by Trixie's report, nearly bursting when she explained how Van had tapped into her gifts. Then, he proceeded to keep her so busy she hadn't been able to properly annoy him.

"Yes, Father?"

"Do not antagonize your mother."

"I could never do that, sir. She's dead."

"Where is this coming from? You've excelled beyond my wildest hopes this week. I hope you're not about to sink back into your old habits."

Van struggled with her temper. She was nothing more than a show pony to this man. She said, "I'd like to go back to school on Monday."

Father blanched and clicked the sleep button on his phone. So this would be a serious discussion then. Van straightened in her seat, ready for a fight.

"I don't think that's wise. The Asylum can fill all of your educational needs, and you're so much further behind all the other novices your age."

Van cut her eyes at Gabriella. The woman didn't look surprised. That answers that question. "Father, I would like to continue my traditional schooling."

"I'm sorry Vanessa. I've already talked to the school and requested your records be sent to the Asylum. As of Monday, you'll be attending school there."

"Like hell," Van shouted, pushing back in her chair and jumping to her feet.

"Sit down and stop making a scene. I thought we were on the same page. You have a duty- a purpose to fill. As the future leader of these people-"

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not going to be your leader. Whatever hellspawn you sire with Gabby here can be your successor."

Father rose from his chair slowly, straightening vertebrae by vertebrae until he reached his full height. He used none of the passion or force that Van used when angry, but as he stepped around the table and stalked towards her, she curled in on herself. Now she truly knew what he was capable of.

"You will not speak of Gabriella that way again. Do you understand?" Van glared and refused to unseal her lips. "Vanessa!"

"Yes."

"I like that you have fire. It's what's going to make you the perfect weapon, but while you are in

my house, you will keep it doused. I will not tolerate backtalk, and if you cannot learn to hold your tongue, I will confine you to the Holy Asylum of Light until you graduate. You will not move unless I direct your steps, is that understood?"

He meant it. Van could see the truth of his words in every line of his face, so she nodded. "Yes sir."

The darkness in his eyes dissipated and he smiled at her. "Good. Now, I can understand that you might be feeling antsy after spending so much time training this week. I've arranged for you to meet the daughter of my best men tonight. She'll be in your training class when you join them on Monday, and you may have already met her at the Academy."

"So, she gets to attend normal school?"

Father slammed his fist on the table, making the china clatter. "She has been able to defend herself since she could walk. Once you have caught up with the others, we can reassess the situation."

"Fine."

"Hailey is waiting for you at Wanda's tonight. I was told it was a popular place for the teenagers in town to hang out."

"Hailey?" An image of the buxom, blonde cheerleader she'd met the other night filled her mind. "Hailey Francis?"

"Excellent. You do know her."

"More like know of her, really. She said our moms used to be friends."

Father's face softened, and for a moment, Van wondered if he really had loved her mother. The idea terrified her. "Yes, they were very close. I'm sure she'd be happy to share memorabilia with you. You look so much like her now that you've washed that horrible dye from your hair. You may get ready to go if you'd like. Hailey will be there by seven."

"Yes, Father," Van forced out, turning to go up the stairs. She was very tempted to use her purple shampoo again just to spite the man, but after the natural color of her hair reappeared, she found the sight of the copper colored strands to be comforting. Maybe it was a step towards healing.

"And Van? Remember, stay away from the Brooks boy. In fact, just avoid the entire family all together."

"Yes, Father," she replied, thanking him for reminding her of the easiest way to cause trouble. "I promise."