by Manuel Tiger
It left me in a state of shock to see so much destruction.
“What the fuck…,”
“Later!” he said pulling me through the chaos and toward the stairs just as an explosion ripped through the room that we had been in, shaking the museum to its foundation.
The concussion wave toppled us both forward so that we landed in a tangled heap together and rolled toward the top of the stairs just as the floor collapsed behind us and crashed to the ground floor taking everything with it.
The stairs gave out a loud groan and sections began to crumble away mere feet before us while behind us was an inferno from hell for it seemed the gas lines were going off with booms that further shook the museum.
I pulled myself away from Daman as he stood up offering me a hand which I ignored, getting to my feet on my own as I took stock of our situation.
It was at least a thirty foot jump from where we stood at the top of the stairs to what remained of them below us. Should be easy for vampires to make, right? Perhaps if there wasn’t a column of fire shooting up from one of the ruptured gas line, and said column was getting bigger by the minute.
There was no way to make that leap without getting severely burned, or worse. I knew that only the oldest of vampires could possibly survive that, not one that was ten years in. Daman would have a far better chance than I would, and he was only at most a hundred and fifty plus years.
There had to be another way out of here!
I turned slowly looking for any possible way out of here yet everywhere that I looked there was extensive damage and risk of collapse. It was like a small war had taken place inside the museum.
What all did that group come to take? This much damage couldn’t have been just for a statue and a piece of rock could it?
And if it was just for the statue and rock? It was rather frightening to think that it had necessitated this type of violence for it meant there was more to both items than simply outward appearances. I wish Heather had told me all she knew, or that I had been more persistent in questioning her further on the matter.
So much for being a journalist.
The groaning of metal had me looking toward the gaping hole which was all that remained of the second floor, and that hole was starting to grow as more explosions sent support beams and flooring falling into the mouth of the ever growing fire below.
“Like watching dominos fall away,” I muttered watching as fissures began to spread along the remaining section of floor up to where Daman and I stood. The section we were on was half the size of a normal sized bedroom, but was quickly diminishing in size.
Already I could feel the marble floor heating up beneath our feet due to the fire raging beneath us.
Suddenly there came a loud groan of metal and stone that drowned out the roar of the fire and crumbling floor. Looking up I saw the ceiling, which bore heavy damage from the blast, was starting to bend under the weight of whatever was on that floor above.
So what to do, for trying to find an escape out of here was quickly becoming impossible. I did not feel like being crushed and burned alive.
As if reading my mind Daman spoke up.
“There’s only one other way out of here,” Daman said as he wrapped his arm around my waist and roughly pulled me against his body.
“What the hell!” I said pushing against his chest. “Let me go you asshole!” I did not want him touching me any further than he already had! I could probably catch something!
“Keep that squirming and shoving on me up, darling? We’ll be starting our own five alarm fire.” He winked at me and it was infuriating.
“You fucking smug son of a bitch!” I said taking an awkward swing at him which he leaned away from, those baby blue eyes sparkling and that familiar devilish grin flashing.
“Hold on to me,” he said as he swept me off my feet. “You do remember how to right? Just like you used to in bed – tightly, but no bucking this time.”
“Put me down! I rather burn in this museum than – ”
As always my words fell on deaf ears.
He took a running jog back, the floor at his heels falling away into the mouth of hell, and then sprinted forward just as another explosion rocked the museum. The floor beneath us began to fall away.
What the hell was he doing?
Then I saw.
We weren’t going to risk jumping through the column of fire.
He was aiming for the stained glass window that resided above where the stairs had once been.
It was about twenty feet away and very fucking high up.
There was no way he could make it carrying me!
“You won’t make it!” I yelled picturing us smacking into the wall beneath the window like a cartoon character and sliding down to our fiery demise.
“Nonsense baby! My aim is always perfect! As you should well remember!”
Just as a retort arrived on my tongue we were already leaping through the air just as the last of the floor and stairs gave way. We crashed through the window as fragments of colored glass exploded around us like thrown confetti.
It was like time had slowed, like gravity had been put on pause as we hung for what felt like eternity suspended in the air. I could not help but notice how the rain drops were like a million falling rubies that captured the glow of the firelight.
Then we were plummeting downward, falling through darkness, gravity restored.
We hit a pool with an explosive splash, although I would swear we had really hit concreate as much as the impact fucking hurt.
I was knocked dazed for a minute, the world around me a midnight blue streaked through with fiery bursts of flickering, zigzagging firelight.
The pain in my arm and leg notched itself up to unbearable. My blood swirled in the water around me and for a moment I thought I could taste it, even smell it only to realize I was drowning. I felt arms wrap around me and I was pulled upward breaking the surface with a gasp, spitting water and coughing.
“I always knew how to get you wet, darling,” Daman said in that mix of Deep South meets Italian accent of his that whispered into my right air.
With another cough I elbowed him in the chest and broke away from him to swim toward the edge of the pool. I hauled myself out and sat on the edge staring at the front of the museum in absolute shock.
It looked like the gateway to Hell had burst through the earth and was ready to receive the souls of the damned.
The entire front of the museum had crumbled, or was still crumbling. Fire licked up the front of the building reaching for the roof like grasping hands.
How the fuck had I even survived that?
Already I could hear the approach of sirens and helicopters were filling the air like a dozen birds, their searchlights sweeping over the museum.
“You’re bleeding,” Daman said as he swam toward me. He reached the pool edge and hauled himself out. I noticed then that he was dressed in a tux jacket, white silk dress shirt but black jeans and boots. His clothing clung wetly to his six foot three frame. “Let me look at it, Henry.”
I ignored him by turning my body away from him, but could see a large patch of blood floating on the surface of the water. Surely that couldn’t be all mine! My arm and leg had only been gazed by bullets, nothing serious.
So why was I feeling slightly dizzy?
I looked at my right arm to see the jacket sleeve had been shredded during our leap through the window and a long jagged wound about an inch deep on my arm ran to my wrist. From it blood was running in a river creating a pool around me.
“Fuck,” I said getting up only to stagger. “Just…I just need bagged blood,” I said turning away from Daman as the sirens that filled the air seemed to come in and out of hearing. “Then I need to find Heather and Scott,” I mumbled, nodding my head. “I need to find them!” I said stumbling and falling against the hedge that grew near the pool.
“Henry!”
I pushed off from the hedge and spun around as he came up to me.
“Leave me the fuck alone Daman! Shouldn’t you be with Graceland anyway? What happens to me shouldn’t be any of your fucking concern! You gave up any right to ask about my well-being when you fucking left me!” I took a wild swing at him that he avoided, catching me as I fell forward from the momentum.
“Shut the fuck up, Henry!” he growled, his blue eyes shimmering with fire or reflecting the fire. “You’re seriously injured and you’re not fucking healing!”
I looked up at him, pushing against his chest, but blackness was creeping around my vision, closing in. “You left a far worse wound which has never healed…,” I said feeling my eyes growing heavier, all fight leaving me just like my blood that was rapidly leaving my body.
I tried one last attempt to pry myself from his embrace, but instead I just collapsed in his arms and welcomed the comforting wave of darkness that swept me up.
Chapter Six
I drifted on cold crimson waves that lapped at my body, feeling invisible hands latching onto me which wished to pull me into the dark depths of that sanguine water.
It would be so easy to give up, to let those grasping hands pull me under, to simply stop caring, to just let myself go into that darkness forever and hope for a better life if a next one awaited me after this one.
That thought appealed to me.
So I let myself do just that and felt those hands begin to pull me down, down, down.
Then I felt liquid warmth being poured between my lips. It was hot rich blood that flowed over my tongue, the blood spiking itself throughout my body as those hands released me, letting me go. I saw myself approach the surface, seeing the bright blue of a sky come into focus as I broke from the water and tasted more of that blood.
There was something familiar about it as a memory fluttered at the edges of my slowly dawning awareness, but I was going under again, slipping into the embrace of darkness once more.
II
I opened my eyes slowly to be greeted by the sight of my familiar Spartan bedroom. Something about this doesn’t seem right, I began thinking, but my mind was still fuzzy with sleep so my thoughts were scattering about like leaves on the wind that I was unable to catch. I then heard the roll of distant thunder echoing across the sky overhead which managed to further awaken me. Looking toward my window I saw that the blinds had been partially drawn up to show a gray leaden sky lurking outside.
Wait.
This was my bedroom and not Heather’s living room where I typically crashed on her couch when I spent the night with her.
That meant that everything that had occurred last night had been real, that it was not a bad dream or the result of too much drinking.
Which meant…
I heard the door to my bathroom open and swung my eyes in that direction to see Daman emerging from it, steam flowing around him. He was whistling, pink cheeked, his raven hair slicked back and his lightly bronzed muscular body was glistening with water droplets from the shower he had obviously taken.
He was also very naked unless you counted the towel he was holding in his right hand.
This had to be a nightmare.
“Feeling better?” he asked bringing the towel up to dry his hair. Those sparkling blue eyes locked on me.
I groaned, fell back and closed my eyes. “I thought you were a nightmare.”
“To some I am.”
I didn’t have to see him to know he was smiling – I could hear his smile in his tone! Cocky bastard.
“Yes, I know that quite well from personal experience,” I said sitting back up slowly. The blanket fell away to reveal that I was naked. I quickly grabbed it and drew it back up over my body.
“Not like I haven’t seen you naked before,” he said as I shot daggers with my eyes at him. “Numerous, numerous times.”
“What the hell are you even doing here?” I demanded wrapping the blanket further around me.
“Is that anyway to thank your savior?” he asked tossing the towel at me so that it landed atop my head hiding him from view. “Don’t worry, Henry,” he said as I heard the unfastening of what sounded like the clasps on a suitcase. “I was the perfect gentleman when I got you out of your tux.” He paused for a moment. “For once.” Then another pause. “And I only stared for five minutes, maybe ten tops.”
I reached up and removed the towel nearly chucking it back at him. He was kneeling near the bed in front of an expensive looking suitcase that was monogramed with his initials on the top of it – DS.
“Nice place you have here by the way,” he said.
“What? Didn’t think I would? Or did you expect me to be living in a brothel?”
“Well, if you were living in a brothel? I would be expecting breakfast in bed served by a naked male with a fetching body.” He looked over his shoulder at me chuckling. “Speaking of, you’ve been working out huh?”
“Why are you even bringing that up?” I said tossing back the blankets. I took the towel and quickly wrapped it around my waist then got out of bed and walked toward the bathroom.
“I was always raised to appreciate beauty and to compliment said beauty,” he answered which stopped me mid-step.
I rolled my eyes. This had to be a nightmare I was still in for there was no god damn way that Damiano Salvadori could be here in my bedroom!
“Do lines like that work for you often?” I asked stepping into the steam filled bathroom. I looked for my robe behind the door to see if it was hanging on the hook there which it wasn’t so I then checked the hamper to find it there. It was old, frayed, and should have been tossed out years ago, but it was comfortable. I threw the towel into the hamper, slipped the robe on and belted it around my waist as I emerged from the bathroom.
“Usually,” he replied answering my question upon my return. He stood up giving me a view of his backside. As much as I hated to admit it he still had a nice pair of long muscular legs, firm ass and a broad muscular back. “But,” he said turning around as he slipped on a gray V-neck shirt. “I only say them to those that are worthy of them.”
“You must spend a lot of time in front of the mirror then.”
“Ouch,” he said smirking. “Someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”
“You can leave now,” I said going over to my dresser and rummaging around for underwear and socks. “I’m sure there are far better places you like to be at the moment then here with me.”
“I’m afraid that we’re together on this, Henry.”
I paused and turned around. He was standing before me with the lower half of his body still naked. I jerked my eyes up and away but not before he saw which only made him smile. I spun back around. “What are you talking about? What happened last night…,” I paused and remembered. “Aadya.” I said. “She knew you!” I said turning back around and reminding myself to look at one of his ears. “Were you responsible for what happened last night? Are you the reason my friends were taken?”
“No and no,” he said holding up a hand. “Your friends just happened to be at the wrong place at the very wrong time. I was there for I was sent to stop what happened from happening. Only I arrived too late.”
“Busy with Graceland?”
At the mention of this particular name he heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his damp hair. “Can you not mention that name, please?”
“Oh? Lover’s tiff at the moment?” I retorted. His eyes narrowed as he spun back around and grabbed a pair of jeans from the suitcase. He took his time about putting them on and then took a pair of black socks from the suitcase before moving over to my bed and perching himself on the edge.
After a lengthy pause while I tried to match up socks he spoke. “If you want to know? I ended things with them.”
“Ended things?” I snorted. “Or do you mean that it’s just another pause in the relationship?” I grabbed my underwear and socks and then headed to my closet.
“No, it’s over between us,” he replied. “It was over then as well.”
I stopped in goi
ng through my meager clothing, my hand clutching a pair of jeans. I laughed softly shaking my head. “Paint ten years ago as you want Daman. It doesn’t change what you did to me or who you went back to.” I grabbed the jeans from the hanger and selected a gray V-neck and cursed myself when I realized it was similar to his. I looked over the other shirts but most were dress shirts that needed ironing and I didn’t have time for that.
“Henry,” he said and I heard him get off the bed. “About that,” he began.
“Who sent you here Daman?” I asked not wishing to hear anything else on a subject that was starting to boil my blood. “You said you were sent here.” I turned around. “By who?”
He seemed to accept that we were not talking about our past.
“A witch’s council out of Richmond,” he replied. “There’s been events going on lately and one of the council members is an old friend. They learned nearly at the zero hour of what was going on here and since I was in Vegas? I said I would do my best to stop the theft.”
“Vegas, huh?” I said. “Playing the slots or the sluts?”
His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. Instead he looked out the window and walked over toward it. “You have a nice view from here.”
I ignored what he said. “When you said that there are things going on? Do you mean anything like what is happening here in San Francisco?”
“What’s happening here in San Francisco?” he asked as he turned back around.
“Witches are being murdered. There was one the other day that was found floating dead in the marina and it’s been raining ever since,” I said gesturing out the window toward the storm clouds hovering outside. “And it’s not just witches that are ending up dead either. There’s been supernatural creatures throughout the city being killed that’s it’s leading to most going underground of leaving the city. I only found this out the day the witch was found floating in the marina.”
“I’ve heard once that only the most powerful witches are mourned by nature,” he said looking toward the window before returning his attention back to me. “But it’s not just here in San Francisco that these attacks are occurring. It’s occurring all over the United States, Henry. Supernatural groups, even the most powerful and oldest ones are being killed.”