“I’ll just have to freeze your remaining blood and make it last—to get me through the long winter,” Jack said, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.
I’d envied their relationship, which had endured the better part of fifty years, especially with Ashley refusing to be turned. They’d only ever had eyes for each other, even with Ashley growing older every year. Jack looked very similar to the way he’d looked when they’d first met, his aging already having started decelerating, then freezing completely once his transition was complete. Age never seemed to be a factor for them and he’d remain devoted to her until the day she died. As far as I knew, he’d never strayed—not once in all these years.
I sipped from the glass of blood. “Is this deer blood?” I asked.
“Very good,” Jack said. “I shot it myself, hunting with some buddies earlier this season. I took the blood and donated the meat.”
“I used to hunt deer years ago—at one time, it was my meal of choice,” I said. “I’ve been a little too preoccupied lately.”
“Which is probably the real reason you’re here… unless you’re looking to indulge…” Jack gave me a wink, his expression turning sheepish when he noticed Ashley glaring at him.
“This is my indulgence for the evening,” I said, holding up my half-empty glass. “I wanted to follow up on our new friend from the accident since I hadn’t heard anything from you.”
“You could have just called,” Jack said.
“I couldn’t sleep and wanted to see some friendly faces.”
“Well, I don’t have any updates yet. If I did, I would have called you immediately.”
“I figured as much,” I said, my shoulders slumping as I downed the rest of the blood. “Is there anything you need from me?”
“No; I’ve got my feelers out,” Jack said. “These things take time, but I’m confident I’ll have something soon. If he was sloppy enough to be caught on one video, he’s bound to show up somewhere else. We just need to find it.”
“Is there something you want the Society doing?” Ashley asked. “I can gather some additional resources.”
I shook my head. “I’m keeping this operation outside of the Society. But if you could, just keep an ear out for anything against Fiona.”
“You already know there are plenty of people against her.”
“But is there anyone actively going after her?”
“Not that I know of, but I’ll keep my ears open,” Ashley said, taking the empty glass from me and setting it on a side table.
“That’s all I ask,” I said, thanking them for their help, and taking my leave of Sisters of Mercy.
I’d given Fiona a few days now to adjust to her new paradigm—one where she was living her daily life with monsters of folklore. I knew if I gave her too long, she’d be more resistant to continuing her candidacy. I needed to set up a meeting with her soon to keep her progressing. I thought she’d benefit from some one-on-one instruction, outside of the group training sessions.
I knew it was late, but was compelled to reach out while I was thinking about her, so I sent a simple text before heading home. Since it was in the middle of the night, I didn’t expect to receive a response until sometime the next day—if at all—but was surprised when my phone lit up while I was leaving the parking lot a few minutes later.
I read the returned message and smiled.
Not a chance.
25
Fiona
Matthew texted me before I had the chance to fall back to sleep. Mom had left my room about fifteen minutes earlier and Becca had been doing her best to comfort me. My mind was still preoccupied with the nightmares and my changing reality, so sleep was doing its best to elude me. Now adding Matthew to the mix just made it that much harder.
I hope you’re not considering quitting.
I stared at the message, reading it over and over as I thought of everything I’d been through in the past few weeks, how much my life had really changed. I didn’t know if he expected me to be up at that hour, but I didn’t want to procrastinate in responding. If I slept on it, who knew what new rationalization would come to me?
Not a chance.
A few minutes later, Matthew responded to my message with a smiley-faced emoji. The little yellow smiling face on my screen made me grin in return; I couldn’t deny my intrigue, even though it was now intermingled with fear. Maybe I’d finally be able to get some sleep, and I turned out to be right.
The next morning, I felt more rested than any other day that week. I was able to get ready for school in less of a fog than what had become my new normal. I even got away with cutting out the extra cup of coffee I’d been drinking over the past few days, just to stay awake through my classes.
I’d been catching glances from Mallory several times a day all week, and that day was no different. I couldn’t help but think she was keeping an eye on me, maybe providing information back to her coach—thus back to the True North Society—about their black sheep candidate. As if I didn’t have enough to be paranoid about, without being on Mallory’s spy list.
Alexis drove me to work since our shifts started at the same time. As usual, Candace was already there, starting about two hours earlier. Eli didn’t mind if we made our own drinks while there was a lull in customers, and the middle of the afternoon usually provided that lull.
“Are you feeling all right?” Alexis asked, sitting next to me at the bar. She poured another packet of sweetener into her iced tea.
I was slumped forward on my stool, cradling my white mocha with both hands. I’d put an extra shot of espresso in my drink, which also made me add two more pumps of white mocha to counteract the bitterness, making up for the coffee I’d cut out earlier the same day.
“I’m just tired; that’s all,” I said, then took a careful sip of my drink, which turned out to be more tepid than I’d expected. I frowned at my disappointing beverage, for which I only had myself to blame.
“It’s not just today. You haven’t seemed yourself all week.”
“Just tired,” I reiterated. “I haven’t been sleeping well.” I paused to take another sip. “Have you heard back from any of your colleges yet?”
“A few. I didn’t get into UCLA, but we all knew that was a long shot,” Alexis said.
“And that’s why I decided to spare myself the extra stress,” Candace said, walking up to where we were seated. No one was left waiting for a drink and there were only a few customers seated in the lobby.
“By going to JC,” Alexis said, rolling her eyes.
“In two years, I’ll be able to transfer to UCLA if I so choose,” Candace said, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her apron. “Maybe I’ll do it just to spite you.”
“A valid way of choosing your school of higher education,” I said with a laugh.
“Damn right. I’ll also be saving like ten grand or more.”
“Language,” Eli said, passing us to the register. “And how many times do I have to tell you to get your butt off the counter?”
“At least one more,” Candace said, hopping down.
Our shift was about to start, so I quickly changed into my work T-shirt in the bathroom, donned my apron, and took over for Candace at the espresso machine as several groups of customers entered the shop together. Candace went on her break and Eli disappeared into the office as usual, leaving Alexis and me to take care of the rush.
About two hours into my shift, I walked over to the register to grab a cup from Alexis, when I noticed Matthew sitting at the bar. A shiver snaked up my spine as our eyes met, and he greeted me with a disarming smile.
“How long have you been here?” I asked—after it took me a moment to find my voice.
“I just sat down,” Matthew said.
“I was wondering when you’d come back,” Candace said as she came out from the storage room with a few bags of coffee to display in the lobby.
“I couldn’t stay away too long,” Matthew said, his eyes following Candace as she w
alked around the bar before returning to me. “You offer the best damn coffee in the county, right?”
“Right,” I said, the word catching in my throat.
“Want me to take care of that, so you can talk with your new guy?” Alexis said and snatched the empty cup out of my hand and sauntered over to the espresso station.
“He’s not my…” my voice trailed off as I lost the will to fight her comment. “Do you want a coffee?”
“If you’re offering,” Matthew said, his smile still as radiant as ever, no hint of gruesome fangs.
When I poured his coffee into a warm porcelain mug, I found my hands shaking. I left quite a bit of room at the top, not for him to add creamer, but to keep me from spilling it all over my hands as I carried the steaming mug over to him.
“Do you have a break coming up?” he asked, sliding the mug closer to him and inhaling the earthy aroma before taking a loud sip.
“You can go first,” Alexis said to me, as she made her way back to the register. “Have a nice day,” she called to the customer headed for the door.
For some reason, I felt safer on the clock with the bar between us—almost as if he couldn’t touch me in here. But I knew that was silly. The center was growing pretty busy with dinner time approaching, so no matter where we decided to sit, we wouldn’t be alone.
“I’ll ask,” I finally said.
Eli let me go, so I folded my apron, made another white mocha—no modifications to my regular recipe this time, having learned from my previous disaster—and led Matthew to a table just outside the shop. I made sure we were still in plain view of the rest of the crew, seated at a table positioned next to the glass, on the opposite side of the now decorative roaster.
“You look well,” Matthew said, now that we had some privacy from my friends.
“That’s not what everyone else has been saying,” I said, playing with the lock of hair framing the right side of my face. The scar on my cheek tingled. “I haven’t been sleeping, my hand is still bandaged and hurts whenever I try to grab anything, and I’ve got old-lady bags under my eyes… I don’t think I looked this bad after the accident.”
“Why haven’t you been sleeping?”
“Why do you think?” I snapped, then cowered at the sound of my own voice, quickly remembering who I was really talking to.
“I understand your world has been turned upside-down, but I’m here to help with that. You’ll first learn how to defend yourself, then how to attack. We’re strong, but not invincible. There is a lot of damage you can do with the right tools and knowhow.”
“I’ve seen you out in the sunlight,” I said, nervously glancing around, then leaning in and lowering my voice. “How is that possible for a… vampire?”
“Advancements in technology,” Matthew said, mirroring me by leaning into the metal table. “A compound commonly called sun serum, developed through extensive clinical trials with radiation sickness blocking agents, allows us to better battle the UV rays from the sun. It’s still uncomfortable and we’re still severely weakened in sunlight, but at least the serum allows us to function during a typical day. It is by no means a cure, mind you, but offers temporary relief.”
“Is this something all vampires have access to?”
“Not all, but it’s fairly accessible now. It’s something that can now be purchased from large pharmaceutical companies, as well as street distributors. It’s a major factor in the Vampire Nation movement.”
“The Vampire Nation movement?”
“This is why you should have stuck around during training,” Matthew said, but then seemed to regret saying it almost immediately. “There is a lot you need to learn—a lot happening as we speak, that most of the world is completely unattuned to. Have you ever noticed a small VN tattoo with a circle around it? It’s usually red. Sometimes simply an encircled plus sign.”
I thought about it but couldn’t recall a specific instance of seeing one of those images on someone’s body.
“And oftentimes, it’s in a place that remains covered most of the time. It’s not something usually advertised.”
“Which may be why it doesn’t ring a bell for me,” I said. “What is it?”
“It’s a brand for Vampire Nation—almost a cult-like group of individuals who want to be turned when the vampires decide to come out, so to speak. It shows their commitment to the cause and usually offers amnesty from fatal attacks.”
“Do vampires in the group have that brand too?”
Matthew shook his head. “Vampires can’t keep typical tattoos. Tattoos are like abrasions. Our skin heals them within seconds or minutes, causing them to disappear.”
“But you have—”
“It’s not a typical tattoo,” he interjected. “It’s a special proprietary brand developed specifically for the Society. You’ll have to look at someone else’s to see it in action; mine doesn’t move.” Matthew lifted his sleeve and showed me his forearm. “The north on mine always points up my arm—because I am a vampire. For everyone else, north points in the direction of the closest vampire, no matter how far away.”
“The tattoo actually functions like a vampire compass?” I asked, extending my hand to touch his skin—his intricate tattoo again. But I stopped my hand just short of reaching him, afraid to touch him now.
Seeing my hesitation, Matthew grabbed my wrist and guided my hand to his warm skin. “It’s okay,” he said, letting my wrist go.
I kept my fingers running down the palpable lines marking his otherwise perfect flesh, not breaking contact until I reached the base of his hand. A shiver ran up my arm, more of an electric current passing from one body to another rather than a product of fear. I returned my hand to my lap to conceal the shaking.
“Let’s set up another training session for you tomorrow evening,” Matthew said, straightening up in his chair. “Can you handle that?”
“I have to work tomorrow,” I said with a frown. “But I’ll see what I can do.”
“Mallory!” he called, his sudden outburst catching me off guard.
I turned around in my chair and noticed her a few stores down, sitting at an outside table with friends. She looked up at the sound of her name, noticeably irritated by us trying to grab her attention. After leaning in to say something to her friends, she stood up and walked over to our table.
“Yes? Can I help you with something?” she asked, her attention solely on Matthew.
“I’d appreciate your help with getting Fiona’s shift covered for tomorrow night.”
“I can do it myself,” I said.
“It’s not really my job,” Mallory said flatly.
“I’m making it your job, Mallory, since your father owns the shop. I know you have a lot of pull when you want to,” Matthew said. “You are a team player—right, candidate?”
“Of course,” she said, without putting up more of an argument. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you,” Matthew said, giving her a satisfied smile.
“Sure,” Mallory said and headed straight inside.
I gazed at him, awestruck. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Matthew shrugged and finished his coffee. “She needs to be humbled a little. And the two of you will need to find a way to work together—at least in some capacity.”
“Doubtful,” I said. “But I’ll cooperate if she does.”
“That’s a start.”
I checked my phone and saw that my break was already over; Eli would be out here any moment to give me the usual rhetorical question about my break. How many minutes are in a ten-minute break?
“I need to get back in,” I said, standing and lifting the strap of my apron over my head.
“Do you want me to pick you up in the parking lot at eight tomorrow night?”
“That works for me,” I said, then noticed Mallory standing in the doorway.
“It’s all taken care of,” she said, resentfully. “You’re free to work on your fencing skills—God knows you need it.
Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Yes,” Matthew said, handing her his empty coffee mug. “You can take this inside.”
“One of our friendly baristas would love to do that for you,” Mallory said, taking the mug and handing it to me, smirking as she spoke. “I’m not on the clock.” And with that, she turned on her heel and marched back to her friends.
“Like I said—doubtful.” I collected the two empty mugs, said goodnight to Matthew, and went back inside to finish my shift. Once inside the door, I glanced back just as Matthew stepped off the curb and into the parking lot. Our short interaction had somehow put me almost completely at ease. I had a good feeling I’d be able to sleep that night, which sounded like absolute bliss.
26
Fiona
The next afternoon, Matthew sent me a text to meet an hour earlier, so I did as he asked. When I saw the familiar black Land Rover park in the back of the lot, I hurried over. The passenger window descended, and I was greeted by a smiling Mallory. When I looked closer, I saw her coach, Aaron, behind the wheel.
“Get in,” Aaron commanded.
“What’s going on?” I asked, still a few feet away from the vehicle, afraid to come any closer.
“Matthew got held up with other matters and asked me to pick you up. We’re all going to the same place. Let’s go.”
“Come on, Fiona,” Mallory said, exasperated. “Stop being a baby.”
“What about the other candidates?” I asked.
“They’re not on the way; you were. Get in, candidate.” Aaron gestured to the back door of the SUV.
When I still didn’t come any closer, Mallory huffed out a loud sigh, got out, and opened the back door for me. “How much more of a formal invitation do you need?”
“I just want to give Matthew a call,” I said, fighting to hold my ground.
“Call him in the car, so we don’t continue to waste time.”
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