unvamped

by Elizabeth Stevens

  Odd, she thought, but answered it.

  “Pet...” The voice on the other end sounded weak and husky.

  “Charlie? What is it?”

  “I... I messed up, Pet.”

  Ellie felt her stomach constricting. “What do you mean, you messed up? What’s happened, Charlie?” She heard a soft whining in the background. “Is that Lee?”

  “No... Long story. Please, you need to come. Where we...met. Can you come?”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Ellie shoved her phone in her pocket and motioned for Archie to follow her. She didn’t know how much he knew but he didn’t ask questions.

  She grabbed her coat and rushed out.

  It took her less than ten minutes to get to the alley where they’d met. She looked around, horrible images flashing through her mind, taunting her about what she might find. She heard a whine and spun around. Archie hissed at the approaching figure, but relaxed when he realised it meant Ellie no harm.

  “Lee?” Ellie went up to the wolf. It appeared to shake its head. Ellie wondered if it was one of Lee’s brothers.

  “Where’s Charlie?” she asked the wolf.

  It turned around and padded into a dark corner. Ellie rushed in, creating a witch light as she went – maybe magic’s not so bad after all. She heard Archie chitter and rolled her eyes.

  She stopped dead when she saw the prone figure lying against the wall of the alley. He looked sickly and pale in the witch light – and Ellie immediately knew he would look that way under any light, given the circumstances. Blood covered his neck and the left side of his body, and more blood was smeared across his mouth. His eyes were closed and his soft hair was matted against his head.

  Ellie rushed to Charlie’s side.

  “What the hell have you done to yourself?” She said it more to herself than she was expecting an answer.

  His eyelids fluttered but didn’t open. Archie stood to one side of her and the wolf stood on the other, whining every now and then.

  Ellie leaned forward and tried to work out whether a vampire or werewolf has made this wound. There was no blood around the wolf’s mouth, so she assumed it hadn’t bitten him. She did notice a gash on the wolf’s flank, but she couldn’t tell how it got that either.

  She sat back on her heels and wondered what to do. Her heart raced and she took deep breaths to calm it.

  “There’s no use being all worked up,” she told herself.

  “Use your magic, Pet.”

  She looked at Archie. She couldn’t remember if Archie had ever called her ’Pet’ before, or if Archie had only ever called her Pet. Her mind was cloudy and she couldn’t think straight. She shook her head and looked back to Charlie.

  “How do I do that?” she asked Archie.

  “Heal him.”

  “That’s not very helpful,” she snapped, then took another deep breath. “Sorry, neither is snapping. How do I heal him?”

  “Anyway you want.”

  “I don’t understand.” Ellie looked at him, trying to read his mind in the way he could read hers.

  “You can use your normal magic or your spell magic or whatever magic you feel necessary. Call an ambulance if you think that would be best.” Ellie wasn’t sure he wasn’t being sarcastic, but he didn’t sound like it.

  She continued looking at him suspiciously for a moment then held her hands up. She rubbed them together experimentally and blue sparks twinkled from them. The wolf whined again and stepped back a few paces.

  “It’s all right,” she said. She really wished she knew who it was, or even just how to talk to it so she could work out what happened.

  Before the sparks could dissipate, she placed them on Charlie’s wound, wincing as she touched it and trying to forget it was blood. She concentrated as hard as she could to close up the wound. She felt her magic trickle from her into Charlie, but it was slow and sluggish. It almost felt like Charlie was pushing it away.

  “Stop fighting, you wretched...arsehole!” she grumbled under her breath as she pushed harder on her magic.

  Still, it felt like Charlie was pushing it back.

  “By the goddess, you’re the one who called for my help, Charles Dumphrey!” she yelled.

  All of a sudden, it was like the flood gates opened and the magic rushed into him. Ellie felt his wound closing up and his breathing return to normal – she hadn’t even realised how shallow it was before. Slowly, Charlie opened his eyes and looked up at her as though he was recovering from nothing more serious than a night out drinking.

  “Pet?”

  “Don’t you dare ‘Pet’ me, Charles Dumphrey! What on Earth have you done?”

  She saw him turn even whiter – if that was possible – and she sat back while she waited for his reply.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  C

  harles meandered through the laneways, humming to himself. He was full of blood and wine, and he had made a large profit – he giggled to himself – from his victims’ pockets. His shirt was stained with the blood of many people, he had wine down his sleeve, and his hat sat askew on his head. His pants were not even done up properly, so he had to pull them up every few steps as he hiccupped his way back to his hotel.

  He had lived this way for almost three centuries, blissfully killing his way through this town and that. The number of bodies he left in his wake was fantastic to behold. The power he held over life and death made him, in his mind, nothing short of a god. He paid no mind to keeping himself hidden; once suspicion crept towards him, he packed up and left town in the dead of night, with a belly full of blood and pockets full of money.

  The money, he continued to tell himself, was necessary to liberate from its previous owners. They had no use for it and he did. How else was he to keep himself in the manner with which he had become accustomed?

  He stumbled up the stairs to his room and fumbled his way to his special chest. He had procured it recently, as a place to keep all his trinkets; his trophies, jewellery to sell – or give away to women – when the time was right, and various bits and pieces from his human life. He did not know why he bothered keeping the remnants of his human life – it was too long gone to remember, and he no longer cared about that life any more. Still, he could not bring himself to throw anything away that might prove useful in the future.

  He dropped his latest acquisition – a ruby ring – on the top and stopped to look at the necklace sitting next to it. He could not remember where it came from, only that it came from a woman... Or was for a woman... Something like that. It was a tarnished-gold colour chain with a pendant in the shape of a large, clunky key. The key was ornate, not a practical key used to open a door, so he assumed it was purely decorative. He fought through the haze of drink and blood, trying to remember where it came from, but the memory proved just out of reach.

  He was distracted by the smell and hasty heartbeat of the innkeeper’s wife. He shut the lid of the chest, the necklace now forgotten, as he waited for her timid knock on the door.

  “Monsieur Dumphrey?” she called hesitantly, as though hoping he would not hear her and she could slip away.

  But, he always heard her.

  He grinned to himself, asked her to wait a moment and tidied himself up.

  Once he was pleased with his appearance, he opened the door to the beautiful young woman. She was definitely young, Charles assumed she was newly married to the much older innkeeper, and she did not seem happy with her life.

  “How can I help you, Madame?”

  She stuttered a moment. “There have been some...rumours, monsieur, about your doings at night.” She looked around as though they were being watched.

  “Is that so?” he asked, and she nodded. “How serious are these rumours?”

  “Nothing but rumours at the moment, monsieur. But, they will soon catch the ear of the wardens. We cannot be having such trouble, and... Well, we must ask that you vacate our rooms.”

  C
harles pretended to think about that for a few moments. “All right. I will be gone before breakfast.”

  The young wife smiled and relaxed. “Thank you, monsieur. Is there anything I can get for you before I go to my bed?”

  “Just the one thing.”

  Charles reached behind and shut the door, trapping her against it with his body. Before she could cry out, he put his hand over her mouth. He took his fill from her veins – more a matter of course than need – then snapped her neck.

  He packed up his belongings, picked his cases up as though they weighed nothing and walked out the door, stepping over the body of the dead young woman.

  “Time to move on anyway,” he told himself, as he swayed down the stairs.

  He loaded up his horse and buggy and was gone before anyone could raise the alarm.

  ****

  “The key,” Charlie moaned.

  Ellie looked at him, almost dropping the towel back in the bowl.

  “The key. Move on.”

  Ellie sighed; he was making no more sense than he had for the past few hours. She still had no idea what he had done to himself, and the wolf had run off when she decided to bring Charlie back to her house.

  Ellie’s mum nearly had a fit when she saw Ellie hauling the unconscious body through the door. Ellie could no more explain how he got that way than Ethel could, and the two of them cleaned the blood as best they could, laid plastic over the couch and put the prone figure on it.

  At Ellie’s urging, her mum had left her to tend him. In the morning, Ethel and Al had come down to find there was no change. Without knowing what happened, there was little more they could do for him. Ethel and Al took turns sitting with Ellie, but she felt too uncomfortable and, sensing that, they eventually let her be.

  Archibald lay curled in the crook of Charlie’s arm, twitching whenever Charlie spoke. Ellie wasn’t sure if he was waking, or it was just another stage of whatever his mind and body were going through.

  Ellie heard the doorbell ring, but left it to someone else. Archibald lifted his head as Ellie’s mum and Wilda came into the room.

  “Oh, Ellie!” Wilda ran up to her and hugged her. “I’m so sorry.”

  Ellie looked at her as she pulled away again, puzzled. “Sorry for what?” Ellie paused. “Was that you last night?”

  Wilda nodded slowly. “There was an incident with Lee.”

  Ellie dropped the bowl she was holding. “What? Is he all right?”

  Wilda shook her head, paused, and then nodded. “No, well, yes. Lee turned again last night, we were all very proud. But, he’s been a bit funny lately... The wolf is very strong in him. Well, we all stuck with him to keep an eye on him... He killed an…animal last moon and attacked his brother.” Wilda took a few deep breaths.

  “Here, sit down. I’ll get some tea.” Ethel guided Wilda to the other sofa and bustled into the kitchen.

  “What happened last night?” Ellie asked, her voice small.

  “We came upon Charles with a pack of vampires. Lee recognised them as the ones Charles was with the night he... Erm...” She pointed vaguely to Ellie.

  “The night we met,” Ellie said.

  “Yes, that. Charles was... Oh, Ellie... They were feeding from him... And, at the last moment...they... The big one bit his own wrist and thrust it into Charles’ mouth.” Wilda had tears in her eyes and she shook.

  Ellie wondered how such a powerful, strong creature could be so fragile. But, then, who was she to judge; she’d never seen a vampire turn anyone before either.

  “I should have expected something like this...” Ellie said, more to herself.

  “Lee... Lee tried to attack them. I don’t think he realised what was happening, he’s just been such an aggressive wolf lately... Well, the boys had to get Lee home, but I felt someone should stay with Charles, I saw him ring you so I knew you wouldn’t be long... I just wish I’d been able to talk to you. You looked so worried.”

  Ellie didn’t think Wilda had to tell her what she already knew. She still didn’t know if Charlie would pull through of if she’d lose him.

  He’s not mine to lose, she reminded herself.

  Ethel bustled back in with a tray of cups and plates and a steaming teapot.

  Charlie mumbled and tried to sit up, dislodging a most displeased Archibald and blinking his eyes groggily.

  “Wilda, why don’t we have tea in the kitchen?” Ethel waggled her head in that direction and bustled right back again. Wilda smiled at Ellie and crept into the kitchen.

  Charlie managed to get himself half sitting up, his blood soaked clothes cracking. Ellie helped Archibald find a more comfortable position at Charlie’s feet and sat on the edge of the sofa.

  “Pet?” Charlie peered at her.

  “I could slap you,” Ellie said, not realising she was so angry with him until now.

  “I... What?”

  “What on Earth did you think you were doing?”

  “I... I was unhappy, Pet.”

  “Goddess, Charlie, I know... But, going to Red...trying to get him to turn you! We don’t even know if you’re a proper actual human! Anything could have happened.”

  “Pet... I...”

  “You could have died, you could still die... What were you thinking?”

  Ellie looked down as Charlie put his hand on hers. She realised there were tears in her eyes and she tried to sniff them away.

  “We could have figured something out...” she finished, feeling rather lame.

  “Pet, I know. I am sorry.” He leaned towards her. “Hey... It is all right... I will be okay...”

  She looked up at him and leaned her forehead on his. “Just don’t do that again, okay? If you’re so unhappy, talk to me. Hell, talk to Lee. Just don’t go off and do something stupid...again.”

  She looked into his flashing green eyes and felt herself moving closer towards him. Their lips almost met.

  “Pet, how’s...?” Morg walked in and Ellie sprang away from Charlie.

  She turned towards her sister, who stared at her most accusingly.

  “I see he’s feeling better.” Morg stared at Charlie as though she could rip him to shreds. Ellie stopped and thought that she probably could if she put her mind to it.

  “Morganna.” He smiled a little but she didn’t respond in kind.

  Ellie cleared her throat and stood up. Archibald stretched and sauntered out the door, telling Ellie he’d be outside if she needed him.

  “I’m glad to see you didn’t die on our couch,” Morg said, walking through the room and into the kitchen.

  “Thank you, I guess.” Charlie slouched back on the sofa. “What time is it?”

  Ellie looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s about four...”

  “How long have I been here?”

  “Since I found you very early this morning.”

  He sat up again. “Lord, what about Mary and Arthur? They will be worried sick. I should get home...” He stood up shakily and looked down at himself. “Ah...”

  “Yeah...”

  “Do you happen to know if they’re home or at work?”

  “Work. We made up some story about you having to leave early to see Mr Coleman and...uh...used a little magic to help the idea along. They appeared fine with it.”

  “Good, good.” Charlie looked around as though he was looking for something, patting his pockets. “Keys.”

  “Keys?” Ellie wondered if he was remembering his dream.

  “House keys.”

  Ellie wasn’t sure whether she was relieved he wasn’t thinking about his dream or not. “Over on the table.”

  “Right. I’d best go...” he pointed towards the kitchen, “get out of your way.”

  Ellie smiled slightly. “I’ll let you out.”

  Ellie almost closed the door behind him, but watched him as he limped towards the fence, clamber over it, fall to his knees on the other side and get up again. He turned and waved as
he fumbled with his keys and finally got the door open.

  Ellie closed the door and trudged up to her room. She knew she should clean up the mess she’d left, but she just didn’t have the energy right now. She lay on her bed, moved so that Archibald could lay on her tummy and stroked him.

  “I see Charlie’s better.”

  “I guess,” Ellie replied.

  “Why are you still sad?”

  “I think you know, Archie.”

  “You can’t help it if you like him.”

  “I have a boyfriend, and he’s not Charlie. I shouldn’t have let it happen.”

  “You didn’t really.”

  “It shouldn’t have been an option. I’m with Mike.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t be.” Archie didn’t sound rude or insinuating, just thoughtful.

  Ellie lay there, not knowing how to reply. Maybe she shouldn’t be with Mike, maybe she should. She tried to put into words how she felt about Charlie... She couldn’t really do it. She thought of him as nice and charming, he was friendly and polite. Sure, he was good looking and had a smile that made her stomach flutter, and, when they touched, sparks flew, literally. She smiled as she thought of him, of how she was still drawn to him and couldn’t help but like him, even after he’d almost killed her. It didn’t seem rational to her, but then she didn’t much care for rationality. Neither did love, in her opinion.

  “He could be worse.” Archie stretched and went back to lying down.

  Ellie thought about Mike. He didn’t make her feel the way Charlie did. He was attractive and charming – when he wanted to be. But, there was also the question of whether he was cheating on her... Or if he had. Ellie still had her suspicions, and knew they weren’t going to go away by ignoring them.

  “You’ll just have to ask him.”

  “Yes, thank you, Archie.”

  Well, that was what she would do. She would confront Mike and ask him for the truth. It was the only move she could make. Now, she just needed to find the courage to hear an answer she may not want to hear.