Chapter 5

An entire chapter in which Regan goes on a head-trip.

Just because I’d agreed to go on a date with a vampire didn’t mean I had to be stupid about it. After I left the stupid career fair thing, I headed straight back to the Parker house. Most of my stuff I’d carried in when I’d arrived yesterday, but there was a black chest in the bug’s surprisingly spacious trunk that had some things I would need.

I heaved it out of the back and headed up to the guest room. Bracing my knees, I gently set it down at the end of the bed. Then I had to pull it forward a little because it was too close to the bed to open all the way.

Finally, I popped the lid and started to get out my hunting supplies. The top layer was on one of those little insert things you can lift completely out, so I did. It was candles and incense and stuff. A quick glance out the window told me where the sun was and I figured out the directions from there. My green candle I placed on the window sill along the left wall, the red one went on the top of the trunk, the blue one went on the top shelf of the closet, and the yellow one went on the night stand by the bed.

That done, I placed a stick burner on the floor next to me and rifled through my incense for the scent I wanted. I chose one called Sunshine that smelled like cinnamon. Meditation may be a misunderstood art to the majority of the Western world, but, if you know what you’re doing, it really does help.

I settled in cross-legged next to the burner, pulled a lighter from my trunk, and lit the stick. Like most spiritual traditions, there’s no right way to meditate. My father always thought it was weird that I used cinnamon, a fragrance that usually energized, to relax, but it worked for me.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath of the incense and started counting backwards from ten. When I hit one I imagined a glowing red sphere at the base of my spine. Did I have any problems connecting, being grounded? Yes, of course—I was still tired from the road, and off my game around Milly’s parents. I accepted these failings, and then let them go. The red light grew a little brighter in my mind.

A little above the red, in my groin region, I pictured a rich orange glow. Was I having sexual problems? Fucking a vampire would probably qualify, but it was a choice I made in my right mind for my own purpose. It brought me pleasure and harmed no one. I released the guilt and moved on.

In my solar plexus I imagined a golden-yellow glow. This was my will-power, my self-confidence. I was actually pretty good here, and the glow was a happy yellow sun. However, sometimes confidence turned to stubbornness with disturbing ease. I vowed to do better at this and continued on my way.

My heart was next, a dim-but-cheery green. It wasn’t that I had problems loving, it’s that I had problems trusting that love. The glow of my heart was a bright shade, but not a strong light. Love is a tricky problem to tackle, easy to over-compensate. Ultimately it must be given out to be received, which I knew in an academic sense, but didn’t practice all that well. I promised myself to do better.

The throat was the center for creativity and self-expression, the logical extension of those things being the choice between right and wrong. In my own humble opinion, I thought I had a pretty good grasp on this. I determined to stand up for my choices, but leave myself open to new experiences. When I left, the blue sphere was pretty much the same as when I got there.

Up in my forehead, the so-called “third eye” was a deep purple light. This was my mind, my intuition. I couldn’t always see the bigger picture, so it was important to reflect on the consequences of future actions. Needless to say, this glow was about as dim as my heart. I completely owned up to my lack of forethought, and could only try my best to increase my understanding in the future.

A serene violet light at the top of my head was the last stop on this little tour. This sphere represented my awareness of things greater than myself, my connection to God or the Universe or whatever. It’s all but impossible to meditate for as many years as I’d been doing it and not have some kind of belief in a higher power, so this light was calm and stately. It probably had the least flux of all my problems. I sensed a higher power, knew there were some things beyond my control, and did the best I could with what I had at the time. Maybe it wasn’t a concrete spirituality, but it worked it for me. The light at the top was healthy and strong, but I knew better than to ignore it.

With my center taken care of, I pushed past the awareness of my body. My father always taught me it was better to meditate on nothing, let all worldly cares pass away. I’d never quite managed to work that out, so when I pushed away from my body my mind conjured an endless starry void. Maybe it wasn’t perfect technique, but it was soothing and it did the job. That was all that mattered.

I came back to myself about fifteen minutes later, when the incense had burned itself out. I stayed where I was for a second, enjoying the perfect calm. Then, with a groan, I hauled myself up and headed toward the shower. There were still preparations to make.

After my shower I emptied out the ashes of my incense before getting down to business. I kept my “work clothes” in the middle layer of my trunk. The first thing I pulled out was a shirt of silvery metallic fabric, like the eighties gone wrong. Actually, it was one of the most important things I owned. It was my armor, for lack of a better term. Thousands of tiny strands of highly durable metal had been used to make hundreds of small cables. These cables had then been woven together to create a light-weight shirt, kinda like sci-fi chain-mail. It could turn away most blades, and help absorb impact should it come down to blows. The not-pleasurable kind.

Under the mail shirt were what looked like rejects from a soccer game, knee-pads and high-impact-plastic vambraces. I decided those would probably be over kill, and not as easy to hide as the mail. Besides, I was preparing for things to go wrong, not expecting them to.

Most of my weapons and books were in the bottom layer, but I shouldn’t need any of that. For a second I thought about bringing my baby along, but I was hoping not to have to take any heads today. Well, in the not-good way. My mainstay boot knife would be coming along, of course. I didn’t go anywhere without that. And there was always my 9mm in the glove box.

That decided, I pulled a tank-top over my head to shield my skin from the coolness of the metal armor when I put it on. Then I dragged a nice t-shirt with some vine pattern on it out of my bag, and unwrinkled it with one of those portable steamer things. I kept the same jeans and boots I’d been wearing earlier, and tucked my boot-knife safely away. Just in case I buckled some heavy leather bands around my wrists. Leather took impact well, so it would be better than nothing if something did happen. I added a necklace to my ensemble, four or five arrowheads. In a pinch I could hold them between my knuckles and slice.

When I was all put together, I headed to the bathroom to have a look. The shirt hid my armor well, and didn’t look too shabby if I did say so myself. The blue of it made my hair look blonder, another reason I’d chosen it. Holding my arm up in the air towards my head, I spritzed some leave-in crap over my longish hair.

Deciding I looked passable and had taken sufficient precautions, I headed out. It was a little too early for my date, but that was okay. I had some recon to do first. Grabbing my leather jacket, I headed out.