Sacrum - 10. Chapter 10: The Story of Daniel

10. THE STORY OF DANIEL

“Why is protecting humanity so important?” I asked Vinicius out of the blue one day. The question had been gnawing at me for a while, but I was too ashamed to ask. After all, wasn't our entire existence, our very creation as special vampires, dedicated to their safety? Why, then, did this strange urge to question everything bubble up inside me? It felt selfish, yet the thought wouldn't be silenced.

Vinicius put down the pen in his hand and focused his gentle blue eyes on mine. There was no malice or anger in them.

“Why do you think it’s important?” He asked. I weighed honesty against the sting of admitting doubt.

“Because they’re weak and fragile and can’t look after themselves?”

“What makes them weak, Dani?” Vinicius inquired, his tone curious. The answer, I thought, was self-evident.

“They’re mortal,” I replied, as a knowing smile played on his lips. I elaborated, “All men die. Gods live forever.”

Vinicius chuckled softly. “You’ve been reading your Ancient Greek philosophers, haven’t you?” he asked. I nodded. “What about Satan? He gets to live forever, doesn’t he?”

“He was an angel first,” I replied.

“And yet, to this day, he’s rumored to be recruiting humans to do his bidding. Unable to ascend the throne of heaven all on his own... despite his immortality.”

A thoughtful silence descended before I replied, “So what you’re saying is, we need humans, and they need us?”

“Perhaps," Vinicius conceded, "Or maybe I’m saying that there are more important factors that make one strong apart from immortality.” I sat quietly, digesting Vinicius’ words, when he spoke again.

“A long time ago, there was a pious man who could interpret dreams. During the reign of a certain King, he was thrown into the lions’ den for his steadfast religious beliefs, which went against those who surrounded the King, and who felt threatened by his strength. Nobody had ever survived a night in the lion’s den, Dani. Usually, there wasn’t even a scrap of clothing left for the poor relatives to pick up the next day. But when the King went to check on the man in the morning, his body was untouched. The lions lay at his feet—docile.”

“How did the man survive?” I asked.

"The Lord intervened," Vinicius explained. "An angel descended, shutting the ravenous lions' jaws."

“Why?” I pressed, my curiosity piqued.

He met my gaze with a knowing smile. “You tell me."

I pondered for a moment. “As a token of thanks for not losing his faith, or perhaps as a show of ultimate power to the King?”

"Perhaps both," Vinicius mused. “You see Dani, those in captivity, those who see no way out, and those who have lost everything, can only survive by believing in something so deeply and devoutly, that their faith overrules the laws of men. Faith like that...,' his voice trailed off, his eyes locking with mine, "It could even be the salvation of a lost nation."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air. Lost nation? My mind raced with questions, but Vinicius had returned to his writing, leaving me to grapple with the implications of his story.

When I woke up, I could still taste the metallic tinge of the blood I had thrown up not long ago. My head throbbed like a lead weight, and cracking open my eyes felt like a monumental effort. When I finally did, I saw that Vincent was sitting on the chair by my bed, his gaze fixed on me. I remembered that despite being furious with him, I felt too sick to make it back to my room on my own.

“How are you feeling?” he inquired the moment I stirred.

“Like shit,” I rasped, puzzled by my weakness. Perhaps there was something wrong with my blood juice doses. Maybe I wasn’t getting enough. But voicing concerns to Trusting or the State was out of the question. “What’s going on with me?” I asked.

Vincent's brow furrowed. “I’m not sure,” he replied. “Have you been drinking your blood cocktails?”

“Yes," I mumbled, frustration mixing with my weakness. "You think I’m not getting enough?”

“Or you’re getting something you shouldn’t be getting,” he countered, his voice laced with concern. I never even considered that possibility.

“How can I find out without telling anyone?” His response was a pointed look.

“There’s only one way,” he replied. “We’ll start switching our cocktails and see if I get sick.”

I wasn’t sure if I liked the idea. What if I was wrong about the nurse? What if they were giving me something to awaken my gift, monitoring me for reactions? Reactions I'd now be hiding, all while confiding in Vincent, practically the enemy. Doubt gnawed at me.

“No. I have a meeting with the nurse later. I’ll just tell her I’ve been feeling strange and ask her to adjust my cocktail.” Vincent's worry lines deepened. He hesitated, then spoke carefully.

“Dani, listen. I know you don’t trust me right now. That’s fair enough. I understand why you feel that way. But nurse Mildred reports to Trusting, who answers to the Educational Department, who ultimately bows to the State. They wouldn't tamper with your blood cocktail to strengthen you – they'd be upfront about it. My guess? They're trying to suppress something already inside you, something they fear based on Trusting's little chat with Deadnus. If you don’t want to switch your blood juices with me, that’s fine. Do it with one of your other friends. But don’t tell Mildred about any of your symptoms. Not yet,” he pleaded.

His words sent a prickle of unease down my spine. Was he genuinely concerned, or was this a ploy to keep me quiet for now?

“I wish that you could just be honest with me,” I blurted out. Things would be so much easier with Vincent on my side.

He sighed, a flicker of sadness in his eyes. “Me too, Dani. But I have other obligations right now. If you give it some time, everything will be revealed. I just need your patience... and your trust.”

“I can’t figure out if you’re bad... or if you’re just really good at playing bad,” I confessed.

A slow smile played on his lips. “I’m probably a little bit of both.”

“Then why do I like you so much?” I asked, honestly. This wasn't supposed to happen. Surely, Vinicius hadn't planned for me to fall for the enemy. But as I looked into Vincent's eyes, a raw truth settled in my stomach. I was falling for him, against all reason and common sense.

“I don’t know,” he replied, taking my hand. A small, unexpected kiss landed on my knuckles. “But Vinicius really did create the perfect weapon to disarm me. Trust me, Dani, if it came down to it, you'd win. Because hurting you? Never."

He was either a master manipulator, or Vincent was on the same page as me... developing strange feelings neither one of us was supposed to feel.

I felt trapped. My loyalty to the vampire-human world, my duty, clashed violently with the unexpected bond forming between me and the very enemy I was meant to oppose. If I went and told Trusting everything I heard, Vincent would probably end up dead. There was no way that Deadnus wouldn’t take his words as a direct threat to the State. Whatever he was planning with Maratoni, it was highly illegal. I was put in an impossible predicament. But could I truly condemn him, knowing a part of me desperately wanted to believe his claims?

A rap on the door shattered the silence. Laura's head popped through the opening, her eyes widening at the sight of Vincent.

“Oh, I didn’t know you had a guest Dani,” she stammered out. Angelo came in right after her, glaring daggers at him.

“It’s fine, Vincent was just leaving,” I said. Vincent, sensing the shift in atmosphere, shot me a look of disappointment that tugged at my heart.

“I’ll be in my room if you need me,” he offered, then got up and left, bumping Angelo’s shoulder on his way out. Angelo grunted, the air crackling with unspoken hostility.

“Why are you friends with him?" Angelo demanded once the door shut behind Vincent. "I can’t stand the kid. He’s so pompous."

Laura's voice, laced with concern, cut through the fog in my head. “Are you okay?”

I went ahead and told them about how I got sick, omitting the part where I heard Vincent’s suspicious conversation. I trusted Angelo and Laura, but did I trust them enough to not tell on Vincent? I wasn’t sure yet. Then I told them about the response I received from Eric Van Sant, which elicited a happy shriek from Laura.

“That’s wonderful Dani! Any friend of Vinicius will be of great help right about now,” she chirped and I nodded.

“There’s more,” I said, filling them in on the Specials Summit. They exchanged worried glances.

“If only I could stay and watch,” Angelo said out loud and Laura elbowed his side. She then turned to me.

“I know I’m not allowed to ask you questions about this, but have you given any thought to what we talked about the other day? You practicing with us?” I nodded.

“Yes but, there’s not much time now,” I said, dejected.

“Well, we need to at least try. We can’t just let you go in there feeling helpless,” she replied. I agreed.

“Tomorrow,” I said. Before they left, something made me ask one last random question. In my mind there were swirling thoughts of an almost forgotten dream.

“Hey guys," I began, my voice hesitant. "Have you ever heard the story of a pious man who was thrown into the lion’s den by some king?” I asked, expecting them to look at me like I was crazy.

A frown creased Laura's brow. “That’s a Biblical story, isn’t it? The story of Daniel,” she remarked, confused by the question. Suddenly, a thought struck me.

The realization hit me like a physical blow. "What does my name mean, anyway?" I blurted, my gaze flickering between them. Laura looked over at Angelo—the one who had all the answers.

“I believe Daniel, as well as the variation Daniele, is derived from Hebrew," he stated. "I think it means ‘God is my judge.'”

I thought back to my dream where I uttered those exact words to Vincent. Was it my unconscious brain simply remembering information I had forgotten? Why did Vinicius tell me that story? Was there a hidden significance to my name, a cryptic message woven into the fabric of my dream? My only source for possible answers was Eric Van Sant.