by Al K. Line
Should have stayed at home and locked the doors instead.
Thwarted, I sat on the grass and moped. The baby slept, I tried to think, and the day grew warmer. I must have remained like that for fifteen minutes, sure I should be doing something, but not knowing what.
Everything changes with a child. I couldn't just go running around doing the vampire shimmer souffle as it would freak him out. I also couldn't let the violence erupt, couldn't charge headlong into any situation, as if he got hurt I'd never forgive myself. I was shackled, unable to be who I usually was when things like this arose—yeah, more often than you'd think.
So I stood up, got my stuff together, and drove away.
A Babysitter
As soon as the signal came back, I pulled over and made a call. I left Kane in the baby seat asleep, then got out and leaned against the car. Less than a minute later, the sun disappeared and a large shadow swept across the ground.
I smiled, knowing my friend had come through for me.
The dragon known as Delilah, a woman brave enough to open up a cafe-cum-deli next to the formidable Madge, she of the infamous fry-up, landed with grace beside the road. She shifted back into human form and sighed with pleasure. Her skin shone pale and perfect against the struggling grass, highlighting her rich auburn hair and green eyes. She was beautiful, slender and waif-like, but also more than capable, and willing, of frying you to a crisp when in dragon form. She is my friend.
"That was quick," I said with a smile as we hugged.
"I would have been faster but I got attacked by pigeons." She smiled, her wide eyes twinkling, and laughed with her head back, revealing a slender, pale neck. I'm never quite sure when she's joking or not. Pigeons? Delilah unhitched her backpack and dressed in a simple outfit of a white summer dress with a rose print. She looked divine.
"You sure you don't mind? It's a lot to ask. I would call Grandma but she's out of town on some witch business or other."
"Kate, it's fine. I'll look after Kane. I'll drive back in your car, you said you have Dancer's?"
"Yup, it's still at the campsite. Come on, I'll fill you in on the way." We got in and I drove back to the clearing.
Once there, Delilah did exactly as I had done. She studied the area, followed the trails, but found no clues. She shifted, searched from above, but returned ten minutes later with nothing to report. There was no sign of them, no hint of anything untoward at all. By now I was thoroughly creeped out.
"What do you think happened?" she asked, showing real concern.
"I have absolutely no idea. Something bad. Something really bad."
"You'll find them. You want some help? I can get in touch with anyone you want."
"No, but thanks. Until I know what this is, it's best kept between us I think."
We chatted for a while longer, then I showed her all the baby things, gave her some formula and explained about Kane's routine, and after another hug and then a big kiss for Kane, they were gone.
I don't know if I've ever felt more lonely than I did then. My husband was missing, so were my friends, my baby was gone, and I only knew for sure that one of them was safe. No harm would come to Kane, dragons are excellent babysitters. As for the others, I'd have to find out.
I rummaged through the bags I'd removed from my car, changed clothes from jeans and blouse to leather trousers, white t-shirt, hiking boots, and a rucksack with phone, keys, wallet, water, food, a few more necessities, and hitched it onto my back.
Just about ready, I heard a crash in the forest and was instantly alert. My eyes snapped to black, my ink swelled beneath my clothes, writhing like fat worms under the skin, and my incisors snicked down hard and sharp, already dripping the vampire's tear, the milky venom that can turn you or kill you. I never turn, but I sure as hell do kill.
I grabbed a coil of rope from the back of Dancer's black SUV, but also accidentally pulled the vinyl cord that lifted the lid on the compartment that kept all the tools for vehicle repairs, like he'd ever use them. Except it wasn't full of car jacks and a spare tire, it was a veritable arsenal.
"That's a bloody machine gun," I whispered, astonished.
I heard the sound of splintering wood, like trees were toppling, and lost my grip on the cord. The compartment slammed shut and I turned as a tree crashed into the clearing.
Out from the woods emerged the largest troll I'd ever seen in my life. I'd heard the mountain ones were a breed apart to the townies, but I wasn't expecting the difference to be quite so huge.
Dude was freaking massive.
Follow That Troll
A machine gun wouldn't help me, what I needed was a bloody big hammer and chisel and for him to lie down while I hacked away. The troll brushed aside the last few trees like they were blades of grass. Thick trunks snapped under his strength, splintering as he stepped forward into the clearing.
He stopped for a moment, took in the scene with typical glacial slowness, head turning on bunched neck muscles, traps so large they came right up to his ears, then he grunted and strode forward.
The stupid brute trampled the tents without pause, glanced my way once then turned back to face where he was heading, and marched with purpose, sweeping aside the trees with a single, lazy swipe. His arms were thicker than the tree trunks, his legs like ancient gnarled oaks, each finger bigger than my arm. He was easily twelve feet tall, shoulders just as wide, making him appear like a box of granite with old tree roots having grown over it, except he was all rock, maybe some mineral and quartz and the like.
He turned and stared at me as he entered the forest and I called, "Wait. Hey, where you going? Have you seen…" He was gone.
I thought about going back to the car and grabbing the weapons, but he was already getting away. Then I smacked myself upside the head, did the shimmer shuffle, and was loaded down with illegal weaponry in less than a second. The troll was easy enough to follow by sound and the trail of destruction he left behind.
Trolls didn't do this sort of thing, they had to be circumspect, and they usually stuck to the high, rocky areas where they couldn't make such an obvious scene. They may be Hidden and they may be veiled from Regulars, but it's hard to hide it when you swat trees like they're fragile plants. It makes things complicated.
This was far from normal, meaning, it was right up my street. With no other clues, or idea what else to do, I followed. This couldn't be coincidence. It had to be tied to the disappearances.
Aware that there could be others in the vicinity, I adjusted my gear as I went. I now had my own stuff, including several blades, the machine gun, plus two revolvers. They were shiny and heavy, and I liked them a lot. We don't get to have guns in the UK, they're harder to find than a friendly goblin, and strictly off-limits anyway for all Hidden. If the Council find you with one it's instant execution, no questions asked. Still, it was worth the risk, and besides, they were Dancer's so I was sure he'd help me out if anyone decided to tell. I stashed what I could in the pockets of my jacket, already sweltering and having second thoughts about wearing it, and slung the machine gun over my shoulder and covered it with a thin blanket.
Last thing I wanted was a walker to see, as even with a veil Regulars sometimes glimpsed enough to do something foolish before I faded from memory.
I paused. What was with the self doubt? I was a powerful magic user, a bloody vampire to boot, and I could amp up my veil without a problem. Why was I being so circumspect? It wasn't like me, especially since I got the Hidden magic. Lack of use? The caution that comes with having a child? I didn't have time for that nonsense.
I readjusted everything, stowed the blanket, kept the machine gun slung over my shoulder but ready at a moment's notice, and let the veil strengthen enough to make me entirely forgettable to any Regulars. It felt comforting having the guns, especially something large like this. The cold metal boosted my confidence as no matter how much magic you have, there's still something very satisfying about knowing you have a serious piece of weaponry at your disposal
.
And I'd actually used something similar before, bizarrely on a holiday where you could hire all kinds of crazy weapons to shoot at things. It felt like a different life, but I remembered what to do.
I sped up to catch the troll but he was one fast guy and was causing absolute mayhem. Trees were either knocked over or large branches snapped off to block the way, meaning I couldn't just turn into vamp mode and dash after him as I'd get flattened. So I kept within the realms of normal human speed and remained alert to falling trees and unfamiliar faces as I trailed him through the woods.
It was less than five minutes before we exited and hit the true mountain. It was dry and dusty here, the landscape changed dramatically. From lush trees and cool air, we emerged into a world of rock. After a short walk across a flat expanse, the mountain reared up steeply, dark ravines below where sunlight seldom found its way.
Shale and fissures had captured many an unwary, unprepared hiker here, and every year the rescue services had to come get those who'd taken to the steeper parts without suitable equipment or sense, let alone food and water. You didn't need ropes and carabiners, any of that, it was just steep and easy to place a foot wrong and break something. So I trod carefully, kept well back from the troll, and thus easily dodged debris that tumbled behind him as he climbed ever higher like a monkey up a familiar tree.
This was the first time I'd seen a troll in its natural habitat. I was so used to seeing them in an urban environment that I forgot that this was where they belonged, where they were truly at home. They originated in Finland like so many supernatural creatures, so the rumors went. Something happened and they awoke, their quartz brains activated fully and they got enough sense to think for themselves.
With their newfound sentience, they decided to explore, and gradually, over the many millennia that followed, they came down from the mountains and their caves and mixed with other Hidden. They are secretive and not much is known about their old ways, as they aren't big talkers, but they have been here since the beginning of time and will remain long after humanity has expired. They watch, they record, the communal experience of millions of the creatures stored in each crystal brain, a living—sort of—record of the entire history of the planet. Boy would that make for some interesting TV shows if anyone ever found a way to tap directly into their minds.
But, let's face is, they're also as dumb as, well, as a big lump of rock in many ways, and they aren't keen on sharing their thoughts or being very friendly. This one was no exception.
Bored of dodging boulders, and wondering if the hike would ever end, I caught up with him, hoping we could have a chat now he felt more at home.
"Hey, hey!" I tugged at the big guy's arm and he looked down on me like he had an annoying gnat on his wrist.
"What puny human child want?"
"I'm not a child, I'm a grown woman."
"If say so. Go away." He pulled his arm away and began to move off again.
"Wait. I want to talk. It's important." I ran and grabbed him again but I must have overstepped the bounds of personal space as a frown formed slowly on his face as he turned. He looked down at me, upper lip turning up in a snarl. Trust me, on a troll it was seriously scary.
Before I knew it, he grabbed me around the waist, lifted me up, and threw me. He just chucked me like I was a stick, and the only saving grace was that he threw me aside rather than down.
Then I hit a large outcrop of rock and my back snapped. I didn't feel quite so lucky any more.
A Slight Problem
Vampires, by their very nature, are robust creatures. We break bones, snap our shit up, and it heals. Sometimes, I've felt my broken bones slot back into place and fuse so fast it was hard to believe anything was wrong. I've also had severe injuries that took hours to repair. The more serious the damage, the more intricate and slow the healing process is.
This was definitely not going to be a quickie.
I lay there on the jagged rock, numb from the waist down, unsure if it was a blessing I couldn't feel, or a curse, and wondered if this was how I would die. Alone up a mountain with my husband who knew where and my baby far away. Not a nice way to die, especially the alone bit. Would I heal? Could I come back from something like this? Hyperventilating, and with magic surging and adrenaline coursing through my veins, I was close to freaking out. My back was broken, I just didn't know where or how badly. What the hell was wrong with that troll?
Knowing it would smart, I gripped sharp rock hard with my outstretched hand and pulled. I screamed so loud it echoed around the mountain, scaring birds and scattering them to the sky, but I slid sideways and rolled down to a flat piece of ground, landing on my side. Once I'd gone from sweating to freezing to freaking and back again a few times, I discovered the pressure had eased. Still unable to feel my legs, let alone move them, I took a few shallow breaths to calm myself then took stock of the internal damage.
Several vertebrae were definitely broken, the discs had ruptured, the cushioning liquid spilling out, but the spinal cord wasn't ruined. If it was severed, then it probably would have been the end of the line, as there are limits even for vampires, but as far as I could tell the nerves were merely trapped because I was so out of alignment. If the magic flowed well then I should be able to recover. The only issue being, this was no straightforward repair where bones pop back into place and fuse in minutes, this was delicate work and my body knew it.
It was as though my inner magical workings were reticent to even begin repairs, as if anything went wrong I would never move my legs again. I focused, gritted my teeth, and shunted magic through the ink, felt it swirl and converge on my lower back where it eddied and spiraled through my tattoos, burning like pins and needles times a thousand.
I was soaked with sweat now, in utter agony as my splintered bones carefully and slowly reconfigured. Shards split my skin then retreated, only to pierce my flesh in another place as fragments of bone sought their true resting place, moving this way and that, searching for their home in a way that wouldn't cause more damage.
My back rasped like grinding spices in a pestle and mortar, or maybe it was just my teeth. Each tiny shift of my body sent agony through my system, and I must have spent the next hour screaming, lost to the world. The only thing I knew was pain.
The afternoon passed in a haze of hurt, humiliation, and sweat. Fierce sun burned my pale skin, my leather trousers and jacket taunted me, telling me I was a fool for wearing such garb. I laughed at their jibes, for how much worse would this have been if I'd worn a nice dress and flip-flops?
Tiny birds grew brave and hopped about in front of me, cocking their heads and staring then squawking and flying away. The rock grew hot, my body so drenched in sweat it became a living nightmare. I passed in and out of consciousness repeatedly, and each time I jolted awake I tried to reach the backpack and get water, but dared not move my body for fear of ruining the work already done.
The day turned cool, and my body temperature dropped. At first it was welcome, like a dip in a deep lake after sunbathing, but as marrow grew and bone shifted, the cold began to eat at me just as the heat had. My fuel reserves were non-existent now, so the magic turned to fat and muscle stores to continue the repairs. It felt like I was eating myself from the inside out.
How much longer would this last? How much more could I take? How could I get an ice cream?
Click Clack
The freshness of evening turned to freezing night. Part of me welcomed the sun's absence, the bitter moon and the emptiness. My true home. The void called in the frigid air, whispered through the trees and taunted as the moon peeked from behind twisted clouds, confirming that one day this would be the summation of my entire existence. Nothingness. But before that, there would come a time when I would cry for, crave, search to embrace the night and shun the day.
Same as always, I would fight it, but it called nonetheless, drew out the vampire nature. The rock was colder than a wizard's toes—don't ask me why, but they're always like ic
e cubes—but even as I shivered, a fire raged within. I had a fever, brought on by shock and the explosion of chemicals as the internal damage was repaired.
On and on it went, me shivering then sweating, hallucinating about Faz walking past and ignoring me, about my baby screaming for his mummy and me stuck on this damn mountain unable to move for fear of doing more damage and never being able to play with Kane in the park.
Bats skittered past, darting low, using their sonar to hunt their prey. Oh, how hungry I was, how I longed to feed and feel warm blood spurt into the back of my throat. To swallow, feel the blood magic course through my veins and speed up this repair.
I'd been lax with feeding; having Kane had the opposite effect to what I'd expected. I'd been told I would be hungrier than ever, would have to feed regularly to provide sufficient milk, and although I had crossed more people off the list than usual, I had been increasingly sickened by the whole sordid affair. I'd brought life into the world, and the thought of taking it, even of despicable men who's acts of barbarism and cruelty were unimaginable, became anathema. Even they'd been babies once.
For my sins, I fed, but it made me ill and shamed. When I sat feeding Kane, knowing the milk he took was tainted with the blood of a human being, I came close to breaking down on many occasions. He was healthy though, thrived and grew at a steady rate, and praise the gods, he didn't have fangs or try to bite me or start doing magic or anything untoward. Just a regular kid, fed by his far from Regular mother.
Something snapped in my spine and I screamed in agony then was still. It was as though a dam had burst and everything sped up until I grew dizzy. Fire surged in my back, the muscles spasmed, adrenaline hit like a bullet train, and my ink engorged until I was fit to burst. Magic swirled and converged in spurts of primordial force that threatened to split me wide open, and then like a tsunami it retreated, sucked away and left me gasping for air and clawing at the rock.