Compulsion is an amazing tool when used correctly. It’s a suggestion placed strategically into someone’s mind; it is not mind control, which is what most people believe it to be. The only down-side, other than taking years to master the techniques, is that not everyone is susceptible to compulsion. It’s very rare to find someone capable of using compulsion on a Shadow, but most humans are fair game. However, the human brain processes billions of pieces of information every minute, and that makes it difficult to get in and plant your suggestion. It’s also a little dangerous; it’s like playing with a bomb—when you accidentally cross the wrong wire... boom! Any type of mind manipulation has long been forbidden in the Shadow World. It is one of the laws that, when broken, will get you banished to the Forgotten Shadow City, which is the San Quentin of the Shadow World.
Many years ago in our first warlock trainings, my father secretly taught my sister and me the art of compulsion. He knew the risks of teaching his children an outlawed practice, but he was willing to take his chances to prepare his children to protect themselves. As our minds grew and our powers increased, he pushed us to our limits to remember as many spells as we could manage. My sister’s natural control over fire still amazes me to this day. The only thing that limited us was the amount of energy we could draw in to cast the spells. If we weren’t careful, we could easily become drained and powerless, so our father stressed how important it was to manage our powers and use them only when necessary. We were gifted to have such a knowledgeable warlock that our father once was.
I had a fifty-fifty chance compulsion would work on Kasiah. The risk paid off. Kasiah slowly removed the flash drive and handed it over. The breeze blew just enough for me to catch a hint of her perfume; flowery, but unique. I couldn’t place it. The scent intoxicated me none-the-less. I took the flash drive and quickly stuffed it in my pocket.
“Is that all?” Kasiah asked.
“Yes,” I smiled. “It was nice to meet you, and I look forward to working with you to catch this guy.”
Kasiah will forget we had ever had this conversation. Unfortunately, she will have some explaining to do when she can’t find the flash drive.
I asked Kasiah and Morgan to wait there while I went to fetch my rental car. I quickly walked back to the car and drove in the exact opposite direction—away from the crime scene. I only had until tomorrow to put a plan together and figure out how these nodules were tied to the murders. I needed some help and knew just where to find it. I followed my GPS out of town down I-94 toward Milwaukee.
THREE
Watching from across the street, Jake was certain that the FBI agent had just used compulsion on the Madison detective; and that meant the agent was a Shadow. Jake didn’t know much about Shadows other than what Atmoro wanted him to know. He knew compulsion wasn’t a human trick; and warlocks were the only ones who could ever master the complex art of mind manipulation. He also knew it was best to stay away from warlocks—compulsion wasn’t their only skill. Atmoro had warned him of their powerful minds many times.
Jake, once a promising law student at NYU, was adjusting to his new vampire life quickly. He was only turned less than a year ago. The memory of exactly how he became a vampire had faded to the back of his mind. He could no longer separate his nightmares from reality. He remembered walking home with a girl he had met at a bar that night. He couldn’t recall the girls’ name though—it was probably Sarah. They were on a shortcut through the park on their way to Jake’s apartment for a drunken one-night stand. Sarah giggled and stumbled, and Jake continuously steadied her. They were both too busy flirting to notice the man blocking their path. Before either could react to the apparent mugging, Jake was knocked unconscious from a single blow to his head.
The attack had happened too quickly for Jake’s memory to record more than just bits and pieces; his brain possibly decided to misplace the worst parts of that night. He recalled his vision getting blurred and seeing the man holding his mouth against Sarah’s neck. He tried to scream, but his lips wouldn’t respond. Then, he blacked out.
When Jake came to his senses, he noticed Sarah lying next to him. Her eyes were wide open in a permanent state of shock. It was obvious she was no longer alive; her throat was literally half torn out, and the volume of blood sickened him.
This was when Jake blacked out a second time.
The next time he awoke, he was lying on his back in pitch-black darkness. Disorientation had taken over. He wondered about the girl and wanted to yell out her name, but he couldn’t remember it. Jake struggled to regain control of his mind and emotions.
A man’s voice slowly faded in. “You will be thirsty,” he said. “Try to control it before it controls you. Breathe.”
The voice sounded calm and relaxed to Jake. Perhaps a doctor, he thought.
“My name is Atmoro,” the man continued. “I am from an ancient world you have never known. I have taken your friend’s life to preserve my own, and in return, I have given you a gift that will lengthen yours indefinitely. The transformation side effects will diminish and your mind will clear shortly.”
Jake tried to wake up from the nightmare. His senses weren’t working properly. He was frozen, unable to think straight. His neck ached and his head pounded in pain.
Atmoro, now looking down directly into Jake’s eyes, spoke as if it was an everyday conversation. “You will do as I say,” he demanded, “or I will sever your head from your shoulders.”
Having comprehended only half of what Atmoro had said, Jake had trouble focusing his eyes. His brain was running at half speed. What gift? Jake thought to himself. What the hell is this crazy man talking about? Why did he kill whatsername?
Jake finally sat up, dizzy, his mouth begging for a drop of water, the little voice at the back of his mind telling him to run without looking back. He had to get away from this maniac as fast as his legs would carry him. He may have listened to that little voice only if his legs would have carried him.
Beneath Jake’s hands, the ground felt like cool dirt. The two windows above his head were black, and only a sliver streak of moonlight found its way through the glass. He was in what appeared to be a shed or a small barn. Jake listened for any sign that could tell him where he was being held. The last place he remembered was New York City. The comforting car horns, sirens, and voices were all gone; it was completely silent.
“It will take some time for you to get used to your sharpened senses,” Atmoro said, startling Jake. “Feeding will help you regain your strength and complete the change. Animal blood shall keep you alive, but you will need fresh human blood to maximize your new abilities.”
Jake’s mind continued to struggle to understand what he was hearing. What abilities? he wondered.
A soft thumping on his right caught Jake’s attention. As if programmed to do so, he turned his head, and he searched for whatever was producing the sound. The thumping intensified. A powerful scent excited his sense of smell, and his mouth began to salivate.
Suddenly, Jake’s strength returned. He stood up and focused on the sound, it grew louder and faster with every passing second. His vision cleared. It was the middle of the night, and yet it might well have been a bright sunny day at the beach. Jake ran his tongue along his teeth. They felt sharper than before—pointed and sharp enough to puncture his tongue. The blood didn’t taste coppery, like the time he got punched in eighth grade for making out with the quarterback’s girlfriend; instead, it tasted sweet, sweeter than the sweetest chocolate he’d ever tasted. He wanted more—he had to have more.
Stepping toward the sound, Jake came in view of a young woman pressed against the corner with a gag tied across her mouth. Her wrists and ankles were bound with thick rope, and her eyes were filled with fear. She appeared dressed for a night out with her friends, wearing enough glittering necklaces, bracelets, and earrings to open her own jewelry store. Her tight, blue mini-skirt was dirty and torn. This certainly wasn’t the night she had planned while giggling in front of the mirro
r with her friends as they prepared to go out on the prowl.
The girl was pressing her bare feet into the dirt in front of her, trying to push her way right through the wall. Jake’s mind clicked; it was the girl’s heart beat that was making the sweet rhythmic beat. The beat was beckoning to him, and Jake could literally see the blood flowing through the girl’s veins at every beat of her heart.
Jake could hear, see, and smell everything—all of his senses were intensified by ten.
The girl’s wrists were bleeding at the ropes; they had cut into her skin. Jake closed his eyes and let her blood’s scent fill his lungs. He inhaled slowly and smiled. The scent was intoxicating. He opened his eyes, and with his peripheral vision, Jake noticed Atmoro moving like he did when he first attacked.
“I brought you your first meal,” Atmoro said, standing next to Jake. “As a vampire, you will have to learn to find your own nourishment.”
The girl’s eyes were switched swiftly between Atmoro and Jake. It was obvious she heard what Atmoro had just said, and it became clear to both her and Jake—he was a vampire, and she was his meal.
Jake snapped back to reality and the task at hand in Madison. Atmoro had given him specific instructions to observe the scene at Madison’s Rock Shop until the FBI arrives. He had his video camera set up on a small tripod at the window of a house across the street behind the shop. Jake was proud of his amateur footage. He hoped Atmoro would like this new turn of events.
Jake removed the camera and collapsed the tripod. He debated whether he should finish off the young girl on the couch. She was maybe twenty-two years old, and Jake could tell by the family photographs and older furniture that the girl lived there with her parents. She was probably a college student living at home. Unfortunately, just like in the movies, she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Jake sat down next to the girl’s motionless body, caressing her naked breast, pushing his fangs even deeper into her neck. The girl had long passed out from the sight of an actual vampire in her house and the fact that she had lost entirely too much blood. Well, it was not lost; Jake knew where it was. He turned the girl’s head to see her face. It was a shame he couldn’t keep her. Atmoro would never allow him to have such a magnificent prize all to himself.
The girl’s heart finally beat its last beat.
Jake was still thirsty. “So many college girls and so little time,” he said to himself as he stood up. “But what Atmoro doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
Jake poured gasoline around the living room. “The coroner will have to use dental records to identify your lovely face,” he said, laughing to himself, splashing the remaining gasoline on the girl’s nude, lifeless body.
Whistling casually, Jake walked to the back door. He flipped open and lit a small, silver lighter, then tossed it into the room. The gasoline vapors exploded in a ball of fire. Jake stood in the back doorway, savoring the dancing fire. Just before the flames could reach him, he was gone.
FOUR
I spent most of the two-hour drive to Milwaukee trying to make sense of the nodule theft and murders in Madison. I asked Jess to surf the net to try and find something linking all the victims. She was able to dig up one connection the FBI had either overlooked or intentionally left out of the case notes. All the victims’ names where related to precious stones or gemstones: Amber Johnson, Tiffany Sapphire, Tommy Silverstone, Jasper Long, Jennifer Aventurine, and Melissa Topaz. Three of the victims were born in February—birthstone Amethyst. The unusually similar names didn’t help answer why Atmoro stole the nodule. They only confused me even more as to what Atmoro was planning or why he seemed obsessed with the blood of stones.
It was well past eight by the time I arrived at Summerfest. The sun was setting over Lake Michigan as I purchased a ticket and entered the concert grounds.
I’ve attended this music festival on the shores of Lake Michigan for the past ten years. It’s promoted as the World’s Largest Music Festival, and believe me when I say this, Summerfest isn’t your mom’s music festival. Every year, more than seven hundred bands perform on eleven separate outdoor stages. The festival lasts ten days, spread across late June and early July, and has an annual attendance just under a million fans. I have heard every kind of music here, from country and rock to rap and soul. I have seen Jamaican drum acts, Scottish bagpipes, and even just a few locals jamming on their acoustic guitars. You can see a dozen of the most popular touring rock bands all in one day.
Yes, this is where I come when I need help slaying a vampire.
Just as I passed the northern gates, I heard Breaking Benjamin playing Dance with the Devil. The lyrics almost seemed like sound advice. I’ll remember that when my throat is ripped open for getting between a Shadow Vampire and whatever the hell he’s after. I had to repeatedly remind myself why I was pursuing Atmoro: the main reason—the Light World is my home and has been so for nearly a hundred years. Shadows refer to this world as Light because of all the natural light from the sun. The Shadow World is hidden deep inside the Light World, where the sun’s rays are never seen. Most of the light in my world comes from forests of sapphire trees, with their glowing brilliant blue leaves. I miss the natural beauty of that world every single day of my life.
There are others like me here in the Light World. By others, I don’t mean warlocks, but other Shadows that have escaped the now corrupt Shadow Council. We’ve found a new home here in the Light World. It’s a constant struggle to keep our existence a secret, and for the most part, we’ve succeeded. Every now and again, the actions of a Shadow threaten to reveal our kind to the Light World. I had never seen a skilled and disciplined Shadow Vampire go on a rampage. This is a new one for me, and it could turn deadly any second.
The one thing I can guarantee, Atmoro is not looking to cure cancer or help the homeless. Shadow Vampires turned by the Shadow Council are trained from creation to be hunters. Vampires are not the only inhabitants of the Shadow World, but they are trained with a single purpose—protect the Shadow World like the knights of medieval times.
Shadow Vampires have incredible strength, and all their senses are enhanced tenfold. They have eagle-eye vision and can outrun most modern sports cars. Their bones are normal and can break just like humans; however, they heal very quickly. You could drain every drop of blood from one of these elite vampires, but it wouldn’t die. Its body would simply be immobile, and unless it was burnt to ashes, the vampire will be as good as new once blood begins to flow through its veins. The only real weakness Shadow Vampires have is the Light World’s sun. All vampires are sensitive to sunlight and can only tolerate direct sun rays for a very short time. It doesn’t burn them to a crisp like it’s told in stories; it makes them incredibly weak by draining their energy. Although, it doesn’t take long for them to recover once they are out of the sunlight.
What does all this mean? Let’s just say vampires created in the Shadow World are very hard to kill permanently.
The main task of a Shadow Vampire is to hunt down anyone who jumps from the Shadow World into the Light World without permission from the Shadow Council. They hunt down the jumpers and bring them back, dead or alive. Basically, they are highly skilled bounty hunters without any rules.
The vampires that inspired most horror stories were once mortal humans from the Light World who had been turned by a Shadow Vampire. These vampires are simply clones of the original and don’t have the same control over their thirst as Shadow Vampires have. These vampires have nearly as much strength and the enhanced senses of Shadow Vampires, but they lack the centuries of skilled training that make Shadow Vampires the most dangerous predators to have ever walked the Earth.
Most scary stories told around campfires or to children to keep them out of the woods at night are true. Yes, they’ve been elaborated upon over time, but their origins are still very true. Vampires, werewolves, warlocks, goblins, and demons do exist. Yes, there are monsters in this world.
I hung around the stage for Breaking Ben
jamin for two more songs. I left after Give Me a Sign, which I took as my sign to get moving and find my soon-to-be accomplice.
I couldn’t have asked for a better night for a summer concert. The sun had by then fully set, and a slight breeze was blowing off the lake. Unfortunately, one couldn’t see many stars due to the bright Milwaukee city lights.
I checked the festival program for the list of bands playing tonight. My finger ran down the list, stopping on Mandi Perkins’s new band, Of Verona. They were scheduled to headline at ten o’clock after Pop Evil—that’s where I’ll find my vampire-slaying sidekick.
I grabbed a gyro on my way across the festival grounds. Summerfest was especially packed that night. I contemplated catching the sky-ride that runs on cables high above the crowds from one end of the seventy-five-acre festival to the other, so I could avoid some of the madness, but I’m only going halfway, and someone would surely notice a man floating down from the sky ride.
Numerous street performers were scattered across the festival performing magic tricks or juggling acts for tips. I stopped at a large crowd circled around one of the performers. At the center was a young man getting ready to juggle several fuel-soaked torches that he had just set on fire. He had an old-school, unique look, with tattered dark suit pants, a bright white dress shirt with suspenders, and a derby hat. The crowd built with anticipation as the juggler prepared for his act.
The juggler tilted his head back and easily balanced one flaming torch on his chin and one in each hand stretched far out to his sides. His head tilted forward, and as the torch began to fall, he immediately tossed the other two in the air into a full-blown cascade of flaming torches.
The Blood of a Stone Page 3