Vampire Innocent | Book 12 | Ancient Vampire Death Cults & Other Annoyances

by Cox, Matthew S.

  “Wait, so if some Blix thing bites us, we can see demons?” asked Daryl, still rubbing his head.

  “Yeah.” Sam scanned the yard. “It’s too dangerous out here. We need to get inside and set up a defensive fortification in the living room.”

  “What about Miranda?” asked Daryl.

  “I got her.” Blix scampered over to the unconscious teen. At a snap of his fingers, the girl floated a few inches off the ground. He grasped her arm and towed her up the stairs to the deck.

  Daryl and Jordan gawked at her seemingly floating off by herself.

  Sam helped Daryl up. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. This is seriously happening?”

  “It is.” Sam shrugged. “Unless we’re all asleep and sharing the same crazy dream.”

  “Why do you always say weird stuff?” Daryl chuckled.

  “I dunno.” Sam grinned. “C’mon. It’s too dangerous out here.”

  They hurried across the yard, onto the deck, and into the kitchen.

  Mrs. Linton stood by the fridge, staring into space.

  “Crap. Your mom’s catatonic.” Sam poked her. “I don’t know how to fix it.”

  “Mom?” Daryl nudged her. “Mom?”

  “She’ll be fine.” Sam headed to the living room. “The demons wanted parents out of the way so they could get us. You know the rules.”

  “What rules?” Daryl followed, Ronan and Jordan close behind.

  “Haven’t you seen any Eighties movies?” Sam pushed two recliners around against the couch to form a bunker. “The parents are never around when all the crazy stuff happens.”

  “We’re not in an Eighties movie, though,” said Jordan.

  Sam folded his arms. “Four boys our age in a house with no functional parents, being watched by the annoying older sister and then something supernatural happens. We go crazy for like an hour or two trying to survive the weird stuff, then it all stops. There’s a giant mess, the parents come back, and we get in a bunch of trouble because they don’t believe us about the monsters.”

  His friends stared at him.

  “Whatever is wrong with you isn’t something small.” Daryl patted him on the arm. “Where’s my sister?”

  “Behind the couch, safe.” Sam climbed over the sofa.

  Miranda lay on the rug behind it, now wearing a T-shirt and jeans. The other boys also pulled themselves over the sofa back into the space between it and the wall.

  Daryl gawked. “What the hell? Is she messing with us? How did she change clothes?”

  “Blix,” said Sam, matter-of-factly.

  “Oh, come on. Who’s doing creepy shit to my sister?” asked Daryl.

  Blix appeared on the sofa back. He snapped his fingers. Daryl’s swim trunks shifted in an instant to a T-shirt and jeans. One by one, the imp put the boys back in the stuff they had on before changing to go swimming.

  Daryl merely stared at himself, too stunned to speak.

  “Whoa,” whispered Jordan.

  “Knife!” yelled Ronan.

  The four boys looked up. A tall, skinny, crimson demon shaped like a stretched ferret running on its hind legs came charging in from the kitchen holding a steak knife. Sam shot it, blowing it in half at the middle.

  Another one came down from the second floor carrying a bowling ball. Sam waited for it to reach the bottom of the steps before blowing it away so it didn’t drop the ball and make a giant hole in the wall. Ronan risked leaving the safety of the bunker long enough to grab an iron poker from the fireplace. Being able to see them, he could help defend the fort.

  An increasingly frenetic army of small demons tried their damndest to inflict injury on the boys. Thanks to Blix’s ‘infinite ammo’ magic, Sam felt like a machine-gunner in a nest, defending the front lines from an invading horde. Fortunately, the Nerf darts didn’t consume themselves on contact, merely passing through the demons as if he blew holes in monsters made from bath suds.

  Every so often, a sharp or hard object slipped past his onslaught of Nerf doom and hit someone in the shoulder, arm, or forehead.

  Miranda gave a moan and sat up. “Where am I?”

  “Ran, you okay?” asked Daryl.

  “What the hell are you little shitheels doing?” She noticed her outfit changed, and turned scarlet.

  “Chill.” Daryl shook his head. “None of the guys did that. We’re being attacked by demons. A friendly one helped protect you and changed your clothes with magic.”

  “Daryl, you need serious, serious help.” Miranda sat up—and stared at chaos.

  At least a dozen demons ran or flew around carrying anything they could find in the house heavy or sharp enough to possibly inflict injury.

  “We have a freakin’ poltergeist,” whispered Miranda. “Holy shit. Where’s my phone? I gotta put this on Insta.”

  “No.” Sam fired Nerf darts into a flying demon trying to dive bomb at them with an electric iron. The creature exploded into smoke; the iron sailed over his head and hit the wall behind him. “No Instagram. You can’t tell anyone about this.”

  “That’s Mom’s new iron.” Miranda gasped. “She’s gonna freak.”

  Something smashed in another room.

  Miranda grabbed Daryl and shook him. “We are going to be in so much trouble. What did you do?”

  “Nothing,” yelled Daryl, Jordan, and Ronan at once.

  “Sam?” asked Miranda in an accusing tone. “Is this your fault?”

  “I don’t know. If it is, it’s because something’s mad at me for unrelated reasons. Not because I did something wrong.”

  “Why would anything be mad at you if you didn’t do anything wrong?” A tiny plate shattered over Miranda’s head. She fell to the floor, clutching the spot. “Ow!”

  Sam fired as fast as the Nerf gun could unload darts. Billiard balls, books, plates, golf clubs, and all sorts of dangerous junk continued flying at them. Ronan swung the fire poker back and forth, trying to swat incoming projectiles away.

  “Blix, do I need the nerf gun or can I just do it?”

  The imp murmured an inconclusive noise.

  Sam glared at a demon, trying to make it go back to wherever it belonged. Nothing happened. “Guess not.” He shot it, blasting it apart into a puddle of beige goo—for a second. At least the demons evaporated to smoke and didn’t make a mess.

  Jordan stayed down, holding a serving tray over his head as a shield. “Should we try taking out a Oujia board?”

  Sam felt like a character in Call of Duty, blowing enemies away as they mindlessly charged their defensive fortification. The whiny electric motor in the toy gun started to sound labored. “Crap. Batteries are going.”

  “Ouija boards not work,” said Blix. “Sometimes, spirits or demons prank people when they Ouija, but it not board work. Game made by toy factory.”

  “The heck did he say?” asked Ronan.

  Sam translated while continuing to shoot. “Dar, need more batteries. This thing’s gonna crap out soon.”

  “Uhh, my dad keeps batteries in the kitchen. There’s a thing on the wall.”

  Ronan stood, making a face like a soldier volunteering for a suicide mission. “I’ll go. If I don’t come back, tell my mom and bro I love them.”

  Daryl and Jordan chuckled.

  Ronan scrambled over the couch, swatting the fire poker at a few demons on the way to the kitchen. Sam kept shooting.

  “So, Oujia boards are worthless?” asked Jordan. “Really?”

  Blix held up a finger. “Witchwood board. Letters and numbers engraved bones of a murderer. Planchette made from skull of murder or sacrifice victim, contains a small amount of deconsecrated blood, then work.”

  “Uhh, eww,” muttered Sam. “I don’t think my parents would allow me to have that. Besides, yuck. I don’t want it. Way too evil.”

  Blix nodded. “Agree. Definitely not good idea. Any human who use real Ouija go insane, possessed, and then die. You no touch real one. No witchwood with bones of killer.”

  �
��Promise. Won’t happen.” Sam pulled the trigger. The Nerf gun struggled to spit out a dart.

  Ronan screamed in fear.

  “Ro!” shouted Sam.

  “Imps!” yelled Ronan, before giving a pained wail. “I’m okay! Just a nuclear wedgie.”

  Two short, fat demons leapt off the top of the stairs carrying giant plastic totes. They flew on stubby wings to the floor near the hall leading to the kitchen and dumped out a massive quantity of Lego bricks.

  Sam gasped, realizing none of them had shoes on. “Minefield! Ro! Be careful.” He gunned down the vicious little fiends, both of which burst into a shower of red slime before fading to smoke.

  Ronan limped into view, saw the field of Legos, and made a ‘Well, this is it. This is where I die’ face. “There’s no way I’m getting past that alive, but I gotta try.”

  Sam gave his best melodramatic, “Nooooo!” as his friend forged ahead into the deadly hazard.

  Flailing his arms and gasping, Ronan braved a twenty-foot-swath of Lego while barefoot. He did his best to avoid stepping on them, but his attempt at care only slowed him down and made him an easy target for demons throwing books, knives, tennis balls, and whatever else they could get their hands on.

  Sam concentrated fire on demons using the most dangerous weapons. Ronan collapsed to all fours, feet curled in pain with multiple Legos stuck to his soles. He dragged himself the rest of the way to the bunker sofa. Jordan and Daryl reached over the top, grabbed his arms, and hauled him in to safety. Ronan rolled on his back, his body limp, and shakily held up two C-cell batteries.

  “I… got ’em,” rasped Ronan, before pretending to die.

  Sam took the batteries and ‘reloaded’ the nerf gun.

  Daryl nudged Ronan. “Don’t make me give you mouth-to-mouth.”

  Ronan sat up, laughing. Then cringed, and plucked a few Lego bricks off his feet. “Ow.”

  “Un-be-leeev-able.” Miranda shook her head. “You guys are weird.”

  A steak knife stuck into the wall beside her head.

  She screamed and ducked, curling up on the floor behind the sofa.

  Sam translated what Blix said about Ouija boards to the guys as he resumed shooting the endless army of demons, starting with knife thrower. “I don’t know why anyone would make one if they’re so bad.”

  “People don’t make.” Blix smiled sheepishly. “Bad demons make. Trick humans to use.”

  “Bad demons… who are these losers, anyway?” Sam grumbled.

  A stronger presence manifested at the center of the living room. All the demons skidded to a stop, dropped their ‘weapons,’ and ran, disappearing into cabinets, drawers, closets, and up the stairs.

  Olmaz stepped out from a column of grey smoke, ducking to keep his tall, straight horns from punching holes in the ceiling. “Human dwellings are so annoyingly short.”

  “Olmaz.” Sam stood up, grinning.

  Ronan waved at him, also smiling.

  “Sorry, Samuel. My bad.” Olmaz gestured at the chaos. “These cockroaches were summoned by the entity responsible for Mel being trapped in a jar. He is somewhat annoyed at you for freeing her. My fault entirely. I shall go deal with the problem.”

  “Oh.” Sam stood, letting the Nerf gun hang at his side. “No problem.”

  “Least I can do is clean up around here so you don’t get in trouble.” Olmaz smiled.

  “Awesome. Thanks. Umm, question.”

  The tall demon paused. “Hmm?”

  “Why did this guy send imps and daemons? Stealing our bathing suits and snapping towels isn’t gonna seriously hurt anyone. Is he trying to kill us for revenge or just be a butthead?”

  Olmaz pulled his clawed fingers down his beard, contemplating. “I believe the expectation for the apparel pilfering was twofold: one, humans panic and stop thinking when highly embarrassed. Sudden exposure in public is only slightly less effective than being lit on fire for causing people to run around randomly into hazardous situations. Two, they likely expected you would jump in the water for cover, where you would be easier to drown.”

  “Oh, I understand that stuff. I mean, why send little daemons and imps instead of full demons or something seriously dangerous?” Sam held his arms out to either side. “I’m not complaining. Just curious. Doesn’t seem like he really wanted to kill anyone.”

  Olmaz chuckled. “Budget cutbacks.”

  In an instant, Sam found himself treading water in the pool, once more in swim trunks. Ronan floated next to him, giving him a ‘did that just happen’ eyebrow. Daryl ran to the back corner of the yard to retrieve a stray Frisbee while Jordan appeared clueless anything unusual happened. Miranda lay on the folding lounge chair as before, still frowning over the boys ‘messing up’ her sunbathing time. The cut above her eye had vanished.

  Blix did a backstroke past Sam and Jordan, paddling his tail for extra propulsion.

  “Yeah,” whispered Sam. “We didn’t imagine that.”

  “Okay. So, I’m not nuts.” Ronan fake wiped sweat from his forehead.

  “Nope. Not nuts.”

  “Nerf war!” shouted Jordan—exactly as he’d done about ten minutes before the chaos erupted.

  Ronan leaned closer to Sam, whispering, “Did Olmaz send us back in time?”

  “Looks like it. Don’t ask questions. Just run with it.” Sam swam for the edge. “Dibs on the orange rifle!”

  30

  Farewell to the Sun

  Wednesday makes two normal days in a row.

  The girls went over Nicole’s for most of the day. I did Mom a favor and ran Sophia to dance class, then back home for dinner. She’s still acting a little off. Don’t want to make her feel worse, so I bide my time. When she’s ready, she’ll tell me what’s bothering her. She can’t not. It’s part of who she is.

  Sam spent the day at Daryl’s. Apparently, they opened their pool today. If you ask me, it’s still a touch chilly for swimming but, boys… right? I said normal, didn’t I. Sam had a heck of a story about what happened at Daryl’s. Turns out, Olmaz didn’t rewind time, merely set everyone up back as they’d been earlier and altered memories. Sam and Ronan remembered everything, while the other boys and one bossy older sister remained clueless. Fortunately, demon magic un-broke all the smashed objects and fixed various gouges and holes in the wall. It’s probably kinda weird for demons to undo chaos. It’s like imagining Sophia getting violent or breaking the law.

  Anyway, it doesn’t sound like it’s going to be much of a problem. Whatever entity is upset at Sam for letting Mel out sounds pretty lame if he sent weak daemons after my brother. I’m starting to wonder if demons really did get something of a distorted reputation from humans. They don’t sound so evil and fearsome as much as a bunch of beered-up frat brothers with magical powers, poor impulse control, and a limited ability to comprehend the consequences of their actions beforehand. Oh, I’ve just described boys in general, except for the magic powers.

  As for me, I had a nice afternoon hanging out with Ashley and Michelle. Well, not really afternoon as much as evening. My friends both had to work until six. We went out for food, hit the mall, and basically tried to act like high school kids again. Hey, we only have four more years where summer break is even remotely a thing. Gotta enjoy it while possible. My friends will soon be part of the real world and have to work all year round, no longer getting a vacation for three months. ’Course, ever since sophomore year in high school, we had summer jobs so it really didn’t feel like a total break. Michelle’s putting in serious time at the law firm this summer and Ashley’s gone up to full time hours at the vet clinic until school starts again. My friends are impersonating adults if not in salary or responsibility, but time being drained by work. Me? I’m still the lazy ass. No job for me.

  Unless being part of Wolent’s organization counts as a job. Maybe it does.

  We retreat to Ash’s place and throw on a movie. Sadly, my friends are both unconscious before midnight. So much for ‘let’s stay up late and watc
h a movie, even though we all know it’s a bad idea.’ I lay on the sofa between them, watching the last twenty minutes of Vampire Academy. Yeah, my friends have a sense of humor.

  Soon after the credits start rolling, Michelle stirs. She realizes the movie’s over and it’s almost midnight, and drags herself up. “I really gotta get going. Need to be at the firm tomorrow morning.”

  “Okay.” I sit up. “You look exhausted. I’ll drive you.”

  “I can dri—nah. You’re right. I’m half awake and the room’s spinning.” Michelle fumbles around for her shoes.

  Ash is out cold, so I pat her on the head and whisper, “Night.”

  Michelle’s so yawny and wobbly on her feet, I have to help her stay upright on the way out to her car. I steer her to the passenger side, help her in, and give her a mental poke to sleep. Doesn’t take me long to drive to her house, park the car, and carry her up to her bed. Mere seconds after I go out her window to fly home, my phone rings.

  Oh, it’s Amy. I hover to a stop and answer. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “Girl, this dude you left here is seriously depressing. He thinks he’s evil and shouldn’t exist. Keeps moping around talking about how he misses the sun.”

  I chuckle. “Sounds exactly the same as he was in high school, only he hadn’t been a real vampire then.”

  She whistles. “I’m serious. The guy didn’t even want to feed. We had to tell him if he didn’t do it, he’d end up losing control and hurting people.”

  “I already explained that to him.” I rake a hand up through my hair. Argh.

  “Since he kinda knows you from before, think you could try talking to him? He’s not gonna last long if he keeps going like this.”

  Hmm. My thoughts drift to the exploding vampire at the gas station. Brady might not last long regardless of what he does or doesn’t do… He might only still exist because he’s never tried to use any powers. The gas station exploder attempted to make himself stronger and the power drain consumed him. Death is one thing when it’s a total stranger. Granted, I don’t really know Brady beyond seeing him every day for four years—summer break not included. He’s somewhere between stranger and a person I know. It would freak me out if someone I kinda-sorta knew (of) explodes.