Vampire Soul Box Set

by Mac Flynn

  "So where do I come in on all this protecting stuff?" I wondered. "Do I have some epic powers that help me protect it?"

  "I let you hold it," he told me.

  "And?" I asked.

  "That is all."

  My face fell and I glared at him. I felt my head cold returning. "Seriously? That's it?"

  "Did you expect more?" he wondered.

  "Um, yeah. What about superhuman strength or speed? What about any ability to help me survive all these vampires?" I pointed out.

  "You forsook a chance at our bonding on a mental level when you chose to unite with me on human terms," he told me.

  "Wait, so I'd have to join blood with you to get anything special?"

  "Correct."

  "But then you'd have control over me?"

  "But I wouldn't abuse that power."

  I looked ahead, folded my arms across my chest and scowled at the dashboard. "Great. My options are to get myself killed or have a stalker in my head."

  Roland frowned. "I wouldn't use my hold over you-"

  I waved my hand between us. "I know, you won't abuse it, but it's still not fair. I was really hoping to be able to fly."

  "I'll gladly fly you wherever you would like," he offered.

  I snorted. "To a whole new world?"

  "Pardon?"

  I shook my head. "Nothing." I glanced out the side window and pursed my lips for a while before I turned back to him. "Not even any telepathy?"

  "No."

  "What about pyro stuff?"

  "None."

  "A third arm?"

  "Would you really wish for that?"

  I snorted and gestured down at my waitress uniform. "Another arm would really help." I looked ahead and pointed at a sign. It read 'Northton.' "We're coming up on the city outskirts right now."

  Northton was a town of ten thousand people and was a hub for the processing and trucking of the regional farm produce. There were rows of nice houses on the western side of the tracks, and not-so-great houses on the east. The Depot Ned spoke about was to the north and was the main hub for trucking the produce, finished and raw, out of the area. It was made up of a couple of large controlled-atmosphere buildings and some offices. That was where half the town worked, and the other half serviced them.

  The established companies weathered the downturn in the economy, but the new investments dried up like corn left in the fields. That's what made the industrial park on the east side of the tracks a ghost town. The investors built a half dozen new warehouses and bought up a bunch of land only to clear out when they lost most of their cash.

  We puttered down the small main street with its small shops, and I pointed at a road on the right.

  "Go down there," I instructed him.

  A couple more blocks brought us near the railroad tracks. They had been used by the Depot, but now they were mostly abandoned. Only a few trains went through, and those didn't stop. I glanced around and my eyes fell on one of the houses close to the tracks. It was a small, single-story shingled home with weeds for a lawn and a pile of large truck tires near the road.

  "Do you know the owner of that house?" Roland spoke up.

  "And you do, too. That's Charlie's house," I told him. I sighed and slumped down in my seat. "I should go check on him just to make sure you haven't given him any lasting damage."

  "I could come with you to apologize," he suggested.

  I snorted and sat up. "That would probably finish the job. Besides, he works nights like me. It'd be easier to find him during the day."

  "Then you must pass on my apologies," he insisted.

  I grinned. "I'll mention it's from a really old friend."

  Roland smiled. "That would be very appropriate."

  We bumped over the tracks and drove a mile down the road to the industrial park. The whole thing was a paved paradise for feral cats and rats the size of Ralph's toupee he tried to wear for one summer before it nearly boiled his head off. The whole compound was surrounded by an eight-foot tall chain-link fence meant to keep out thieves and kids with cans of spray paint. The fence was so successful that the thieves had only stolen what was valuable and only half of the buildings were covered in graffiti.

  The warehouses were four-stories tall with single-peaked roofs and broken windows on the ground floor. Broken pallets, torn plastic bags, and trash littered the parking lot that sat on the outside of the fence.

  Roland parked the car near the gated entrance and we both stepped out. A cool autumn breeze blew past us and stirred the trash. The junk blew across the dark pavement beyond the fence and rattled some of the broken-glass windows. I shivered and wrapped my coat closer to me.

  "Why can't vampires stay at five-star hotels?" I muttered.

  "The chance at discovery would be too great," Roland pointed out.

  "The cleaning service would work against you," I agreed.

  I walked up to the fence with the box in one hand and grasped some of the diamond-shaped holes. The compound was thirty acres of rundown buildings, outbuildings, offices, and a couple of cool-looking forts made out of pallets.

  "This place is bigger than I remember. It's going to take forever to look everywhere," I commented.

  Roland came up behind me and scooped me into his arms. "Then we shall take to the skies and at least enjoy the view while we look."

  Roland jumped into the air and the wind flew past me as we sailed above and over the tops of the warehouses. I clung to the box and him.

  "Would it destroy you to ask me first?" I scolded him.

  "No," was the indifferent reply.

  I rolled my eyes and they fell on the ground beneath us. We flew five feet above the tops of the warehouses. Our shadows followed us along the ground.

  "So what exactly are we supposed to be looking for?" I asked him.

  "Something that shouldn't be there," Roland told me.

  Something caught my attention. I squinted my eyes and pointed at one of the small buildings attached to a warehouse. It had only two floors and windows on both of them. The building was only twenty by forty feet, and I guessed it was an office. I noticed a flicker of light like from a flashlight and pointed at the building.

  "Is that a light down there?" I wondered.

  Roland followed my hand and frowned. "We shall see."

  He dove down at a steep angle so I came down first followed by his body. The wind whipped at us as the ground came closer. I yelped and clutched onto him.

  "Pull up! Pull up! Mayday! Mayday!" I yelled.

  At the last second Roland swung his legs beneath him and he landed neatly on his feet five yards from the office. He set me on my feet and I stumbled away from him. I stopped a few feet away and leaned over. My head cold meant my equilibrium was out of balance, and that meant-

  "Do your flights happen to come with barf bags?" I asked him.

  Roland's face fell and he came up to me. "I'm sorry. I forget how physically weak humans become when they're ill."

  I waved off his words and straightened. "It's fine. I forgot about it, too, until my stomach decided to join a circus and practice its flips."

  "You can remain here while I investigate the building," he offered.

  I looked around. The long, tall warehouses were set close together in a row so the shadow of one fell across the shadow of the other. The only things that broke the monotony of the walls were the offices attached to the buildings and my own wild imagination. The broken windows looked like jagged teeth, and every shadow was a vampire waiting to pounce.

  "Oh hell no. I've seen enough horror movies to know what happens to the girl left alone outside," I quipped. "I'm going with you."

  "Then I will lead," he insisted.

  CHAPTER 4

  I let Roland lead the way to the office. The ground floor had a metal door. It sat askew on its hinges, the work of Vandals and one or two Visigoths. We could see the ruined interior of the office space, and it was a lesson in office furniture anatomy. The filing cabinets were empty,
but their drawers were ripped out and their track guts strewn about the room. The metal desks were torn apart and their legs used to bust the windows to our right. A few bits of shelving lay broken in half on the dusty, paper-strewn floor.

  "Somebody really doesn't like office supplies," I quipped as we stepped gingerly into the room.

  "Yes, but where is the light?" Roland reminded me.

  I looked around and my eyes fell on the stairs that led to the second floor. "Maybe up there?" I guessed. Roland moved forward, but I grabbed his arm. "Is there any way you can tell another vampire is near?"

  "Only as a human can tell, by sight and sound," he told me.

  "What if I hummed the funeral march? Would that bring them?" I suggested.

  For once Roland looked at me with a glare. "I would rather you not. That tone is very annoying."

  A sound interrupted our whispered talking. It was the sound of a child laughing. The twinkling noise would have brought a smile to my face if we'd been standing in a park instead of ankle-deep in the remains of a spooky office in the middle of the night. The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention.

  Roland yanked himself from my grasp and flew up the stairs. His feet barely made a sound on the steps and he was gone in an instant.

  "Hey! Human partner, remember?" I shouted as I raced after him.

  I tromped up the stairs and arrived at the dusty second floor. The whole of the second floor had been dedicated to filing cabinets and a single desk. The foreman must have worked there. The filing cabinets were overturned and gutted, and the wooden desk now aspired to be a toothpick with sharp splinters. Roland stood in the center of the long space, and he was alone.

  I hurried to his side with the box held tight against my chest. "Did you see anyone?" I asked him.

  He shook his head. "No. It seems she has escaped."

  "Then you think it was-" A sudden wind blew through the broken windows and into the room. The gust picked up the dust and flung the specks into our faces. I coughed and choked on the dust. Roland took off his coat and flung it over my head. The sandstorm was over in a few seconds, but it made a lasting impression on my sinuses and eyes.

  Roland pulled his coat off of me and I furiously rubbed my nose. Bits of dust fell from my nostrils and onto the floor. "Just what my snot needs. Company," I quipped.

  Roland didn't reply. Instead he pulled his coat back on and walked over to the windows. I shuffled behind him and followed his stern eyes to the outside, non-dusty world. Nothing stirred.

  "What is it?" I asked him.

  "It's completely calm outside," he noted.

  I shrugged. "Maybe the wind stopped."

  Roland pursed his lips, but turned away. "Perhaps, but we should continue searching for Rose."

  "So you really think it was her?" I mused.

  "No other but her makes that laugh," he asserted.

  I sighed and wrapped my arms and the box closer to me. "All right, let's g-get t-this-over-over-achoo!" My powerful sneeze caused me to stumble back into the remains of a chair seat. I rubbed my nose and groaned. "Or maybe I can wait in the car while you look."

  Roland strode over to me and knelt on one knee. His face fell and he shook his head. "I'm sorry. It seems I've again forgotten your illness."

  I smiled at him. "You keep apologizing and I'm going to start to believe you're the one who made me sick."

  "No, but I'm not helping matters this night," he pointed out.

  I yelped when he lifted me in his arms and walked down the stairs. "Asking! It's called asking!" I barked at him.

  "I will have to remember that another time, but for now let's take you home. The sun will rise soon, anyway," he pointed out.

  Roland flew me first-class to the car and drove us out of there.

  "So are we coming back tomorrow for another exciting adventure in office furniture and dust?" I asked him.

  He shook his head. "She knows now that we're aware she's there and won't return."

  "Then what was the point of laughing? She might've been able to keep hiding there if we hadn't seen that light or heard her," I commented.

  Roland frowned and shook his head. "I don't know, but I fear we might find out. But we should leave before the sun rises."

  Roland drove at his typical glacial speed and we reached my apartment with five minutes to spare. The eastern sky had a faint hint of light that warned the world that a new weekday was about to start. Roland shut off the engine and held out his hands to me.

  "I will secure the box for the day," he told me.

  "Good," I commented as I handed the box over. "I didn't really want that as a bedmate."

  Roland stepped out and glanced in the direction of my apartment. "I will take the less traveled route and fly in through a window."

  "And I'll skip the vampire airways and go through the front door," I quipped.

  Roland disappeared around the corner of the building. I rubbed my aching head and walked through the front doors. All I could think about was getting a bite to eat and dropping face-first into my bed. I'd give Roland a run for his money in the sleeping-dead contest.

  The small lobby had linoleum tiles that clacked loudly beneath my feet. Everything was quiet. Too quiet.

  "You're up late," a voice commented. I yelped and turned to find the apartment manager, Mr. Gregory, standing behind his desk. He was fifty years old with hair around the fringes of his head and a sparkle in his eyes. The world knew him as a competent manager who knew his business, but the tenants knew him as a trickster who would bring Loki to shame. He would replace white light bulbs with colored ones, put down welcome mats in front of bathroom doors, and occasionally set up fake cobwebs in the halls at face-height. The screams from some of the female tenants would echo all the way down to his desk where he would chuckle.

  I clutched my chest and caught my heart before it raced off.

  He leaned on the desk top and frowned at me. "You okay? You look like death warmed over."

  I dropped my hand and shrugged. "I'm fine, just not feeling too well." I stepped towards the stairs. "I really should get to bed."

  He held up his hand that had a white piece of paper in it. "Then I suppose you don't want this. Some handsome young guy left it here an hour ago." I raised an eyebrow and walked over to him. He handed me the note. "Don't make this a habit. I'd have trouble getting into Cupid's tight diaper," he warned me.

  I shuddered and took the note. "Thanks for the image."

  He grinned and nodded. "Anytime, but let that be a picture of warning." He walked around the desk and towards the door, but paused and turned to me. "Oh, and I was thinking about disconnecting the phone land-line. Not enough people are using it these days to make it worth the expense."

  "My old ringer phone will be sorry to hear that," I quipped.

  Gregory grinned. "I knew you'd say something like that. Anyway, it's not a final decision, but we'll see."

  "Thanks for the warning," I replied.

  He nodded and walked out side. I opened the note. It turned out to be a letter.

  Dear Misty,

  I'm sorry we missed each other. My client won't be happy, but that wasn't the whole reason I came to see you. How does dinner night sound? My treat. If you can't make it give me a call. If you can, give me a call. Either way I get to hear from you.

  Yours truly,

  Owen Alston

  I rolled my eyes and folded the paper into my pocket. That guy was persistent, and a little devious. Unfortunately, he didn't know my schedule. I had to work that night. Then again, I did have the next night available. Whatever I was going to decide could wait until after some food and a long, death-like sleep.

  I slipped into my apartment and turned my nose up. Something was cooking, and that something was on the stove. It was Roland's pot of homemade stew. I glanced at the coffin table. The lid was shut, and outside the sun weakly shone on the world.

  "Thanks," I whispered to him.

  I walked over to the pot, took
up the bowl, and ladled some soup into the container.

  That's when a pair of black-covered arms reached around my front and grabbed me. They pinned my arms to my sides and pressed my back against a hard chest.

  "Do not yell or I will be forced to hurt you," a deep, gravely voice hissed behind me.

  "Who the hell are you? Get off me!" I shouted.

  I flailed and kicked, and one of my heels made the acquaintance of one of his kneecaps. He grunted and his grip loosened. I managed to wiggle one arm out of his grasp and toss the bowl of soup over my shoulder. The guy screamed, and I spun around and found myself face-to-covered face with a masked figure in black. There was only eye holes and a bowl of soup on the cloth face mask. He furiously wiped at the hot food.

  I jumped back and armed myself with a ladle of hot soup. The man opened his eyes and glared at me. I beckoned him with my hand.

  "You want some more then grab a bowl and come and get it!" I challenged him.

  He lunged at me, but I gave him seconds and tossed the ladle of soup. The hot projectiles arched across the air in front of me and slashed across his black sweater and pants. Steam rose from his clothes and the hot liquid soaked through in seconds. This stuff was almost as dangerous as Ralph's ten-alarm chili.

  My surprise guest yelled and stumbled into the counter. He gave me one last glare full of love and turned tail. The guy ran into my bedroom. I grabbed a bowl, filled it, and, properly armed, ran after him into the room. The space turned out to be empty, but a cool breeze from an open window told me how he entered and escaped. I walked over to the window and leaned out. There wasn't any sign of the company.

  "I guess this means you don't want dessert!" I called out.

  I didn't expect a reply, and that's what I got. I shut the window and turned to my bedroom. Nothing looked touched. I inspected the rest of the apartment. Nothing was out of place. I even opened Roland's coffin. He held the box in his hands.

  "Roland?" I whispered. I poked his cheek, but he didn't twitch. "Just like a vampire to be dead to the world when you need him."

  I closed the coffin and wandered back into my bedroom. My appetite was gone, but not my head cold. That throbbed in my nose and eyes. I plopped down on my bed and closed my eyes.

  CHAPTER 5

  Bright light shone through my eyelids. I opened my eyes and blinked against the harsh sunlight. I sat up and looked around. My bedroom was gone, and in its place was a magical land of green grass and tall, perfect trees. Small bluebirds flew overhead chirping gaily, and little squirrels chattered and chased each other. In front of me was a perfectly round pond with a dock, and at the end of the dock was a white paddle boat. A small breeze blew over the otherwise perfectly blue water and stirred the grass around me.