Henrietta rose from the bed and strode over to the window. Her expression appeared to be guarded and I could not sense what exactly she was thinking other than something was very wrong. Henrietta opened the curtains and muttered something about the terrible weather outside. Her voice was unsteady and weak. She struggled to enunciate each word so her sentence came out as breathy mummer.

The wind outside was picking up as the autumn storm blew over head. The rain pounded against the window and Henrietta watched it even though there was nothing see. The view out of my bedroom window was obscured by the millions smears of raindrops that were being driven down the glass pane by the howling wind.

“Henrietta,” I breathed, sitting up, “What is wrong.”

Henrietta did not even turn her head to look at me. She continued to gaze out of the window and spoke in calm and direct voice- “You must never tell anyone of what we did here or what you saw.”

Her response flummoxed me and I croaked, “What do you mean?”

“Oh God Mia, if you knew what I knew you would never breath of word of what you saw to a soul,” Henrietta responded, “If you knew what I knew…”

Henrietta now looked ashen with some kind of emotion that I could not tell. I felt awful for causing her pain and started to wonder what I had done to upset her so. Maybe I had accidentally touched on a sore spot by mentioning the old murdered Queen’s name- she was Louis’ beloved first wife after all. It must be hard for Henrietta to live in Celia’s dead shadow.

“I am sorry Henrietta … I guess I let my imagination run away from me,” I said.

Henrietta stared at me like a naive child and replied, “Poor thing, you do not understand.”

“Understand what?” I asked.

Henrietta bowed her head and said, “Your unique vampire talent.”

A brief smile flashed across my face followed by a suppressed giggle, “Are you kidding, I am the most useless vampire ever.”

My outburst of humour failed to amuse Henrietta who pulled miserably away from the window and came to sit opposite me on the chair. I could not understand why she had become so morose.

“I only imagined it,” I said.

Henrietta shook her head, “No you did not imagine it.”

“How can you be so sure?” I asked.

“I am sure because when you were communicating to Celia your eyes changed color,” Henrietta explained.

“My eye color?” I parroted.

“It is a part of your unique talent.”

“I don’t understand.” I replied.

“Mia,” She softly, “When you underwent the transformation from human to vampire, your soul entered a kind of temporal space where it was not quite in the realm of the living, but not quite in the realm of the dead. In short to become a vampire Luc had to kill you and after he killed you then he brought you back to life- well most of you,” Henrietta explained.

“Most of me?” I echoed dryly.

“Part of your soul still lingers in the realm of the dead and you are connected to the ‘other side’. The images that you saw were images that the dead wanted to show you,” Henrietta revealed.

“Why?” I replied.

“The dead want to speak to you Mia,” She said.

“No, I don’t want this- can’t we stop this, can’t we close the door I went through in my head?”

Henrietta shook her head, “It does not work like that. You are not connected through a telepathic link of the mind. Your link is much stronger and deeper- unbreakable.”

“So what does this mean for me?” I asked.

“I am sorry Mia but it is not good. Vampires with your abilities are considered high risk and many are assassinated when their abilities are revealed,” She said.

My mind caught on to the word ‘assassinate’ and cold wave of sickness rippled up my spine. How could this be possible? How could the dead be talking to me? I was familiar with the TV mediums and psychics on daytime television that claimed to speak to the dead. I had on occasion wondered how credible their psychic abilities were, but then I would usually change the channel and forget all about it. The world of ghosts and ghouls had never bothered me, and I had never bothered it- unlike my idiot flatmates that once messed around with a Ouija board last Halloween.

Now suddenly I was face with being a vampire- a medium vampire that for some reason people wanted dead. I turned to Henrietta and asked her why, “What is wrong with speaking to the dead?”

“The dead were once people too with hopes, dreams and ambitions. If their lives were cut short then they might try to get in contact with a medium that might be able to avenge them. The vampire court is riddle with dark secrets and dark goings on that could ruin a vampire and their family if it was ever expose. That is why vampire mediums have extremely short life expectancy at court. People feel safer hiring an assassin then risking being exposed,” She explained, “Your life depends on being able to keep your medium-ship a secret.”

“Even from Luc?” I asked.

“Yes, even from Luc- that way only you and I know about your secret which I swear to keep,” Henrietta vowed.