“T-Trepis?” Xander stuttered, “How is that Trepis?” still trying to keep his distance from the mountain of a cat that stood before him, he began to push himself to his feet.
“He was your father’s close friend for a long time. The night your father was killed, Trepis was there, trying his best to defend him.” Sensei ran his finger along the side of the tiger’s left ear, where there appeared to be a piece missing, “After your father passed, Trepis disappeared for a short time.” There was a look of pride on his face, “You see, Trepis always knew where to find your father,” Sensei explained, patting the big cat on the top of its massive head. “We always joked that he was a bit of an auric himself, and I never believed that more than when I found him standing guard over your mother’s home while she was still pregnant with you,” he laughed. “I can’t imagine how she would have reacted if she had found him sitting on the back porch. He probably would’ve stayed there forever, but I told him that he had to let his friend go.”
Xander looked at the tiger, “You told him?”
Sensei smiled, “It’s one of the perks of being an auric.”
“You can talk to animals?” Xander raised an eyebrow.
“I can express basic thoughts and emotions through the mind with them, yes.”
Nodding, Xander looked up at the tiger; at the real Trepis. With a slow, shaky hand, he reached out towards the animal, which stretched its neck to give it a quick sniff before, to Xander’s surprise, stepping around him and rubbing its side along his leg.
“Does this mean he’s going to follow me around now?” Xander asked.
Sensei nodded, “He will be loyal and loving to you, as he was loyal and loving to your father.”
“My father…” Xander chewed his lip and looked down, “Do you think maybe I could…”
Sensei nodded, “Of course. I was going to brew some more tea anyway.” He bowed and turned, grabbing the teapot as he did, and stepped out of the room, pulling door shut behind him and leaving Xander alone with the two Trepises:
A purring tiger…
And the lingering remains of his late father.
****
It was a long, silent while of deep thought before Xander, taking a deep-yet-unsteady breath, finally reached back into his mind to talk to his life-long companion:
“Did you know?” he asked, unable to think of any other way to start the conversation. He couldn’t help but think that, even if he’d had all his life to prepare for this moment, he would still not have known what to say.
I… Trepis paused. Then: No. No I didn’t know; not like this, anyway. I just always felt that I needed to be there for you.
Xander chewed at his lip and began to pick at a strip of leather on his boot, “Do you feel like a father?”
Honestly, I don’t. I’ve only ever felt like a friend to you.
Xander clenched his teeth at that and looked down, “What am I supposed to do now?”
You’re supposed to make a choice.
Xander thought to himself for a moment, “I think the only choice now is how deep I’m willing to dig into this world.”
You’ve already made the choice to stay then?
Xander nodded. “I’ve been crawling towards this world my entire life without even meaning to,” he answered, wanting a cigarette more than ever. He sighed, “Yes. I’ve already made the choice to stay.”
If you’d already made up your mind then why did you ask me what you should do?
Xander smiled, “Just making sure you’re still with me.”
I always will be.
The tiger, which, up till that moment, had been silent—aside for its heavy breathing—offered up a loud yawn then as it lay down. Xander looked down and smiled at the animal and scratched it behind the ear, “Do you remember anything about this guy?”
I don’t remember a thing. Trepis sounded upset about that fact.
“He must have meant an awful lot to you for you to remember his name after your death rather than your own.”
I suppose he must have.
Several minutes passed in silence. Tiger-Trepis fell asleep and Xander watched the animal’s midsection rise and fall with each breath. Finally Xander was able to muster the courage he needed to ask the one question that he’d always told himself he’d ask his father if given the chance:
“Trepis,”—he watched the still-sleeping tiger’s ears perk at the sound of his name—“are you… I mean, do you think my father would have been proud of me?”
I believe he would be, Xander. You’ve grown up strong and intelligent, and I see you heading down a path now that I believe he would have applauded you for.
A single tear rolled down Xander’s cheek as he nodded, “Thank you.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Doctor Range
“You’re a doctor?”
“Of sorts.”
Xander laughed a little, “You really don’t strike me as the doctor type.”
“I know. My magazines are new.”
Xander didn’t get the joke in time to join Range in a roar of laughter. Instead he smiled and followed him into his office.
The night before, Marcus—looking livelier than he had the past few days—had explained that before the ceremony Xander would first have to meet with Doctor Range.
“Oh, and Xander!” Marcus had called as he’d gone to leave. “I got some time off coming my way in a few days and I’m going to be out of town for a week. I should be coming back sometime after the ceremony, but don’t be surprised if I miss a day of your new life before we start with your training.”
Xander had found the idea of vampires taking vacations a humorous one but had, nonetheless, thanked his mentor and gone to bed. The next morning a handwritten note was delivered to him with information on when and where to meet with the vampire doctor.
Range led him into a room that was lit with a combination of several reading lamps mounted on a dirty desk, a well-dated Lava-Lamp and a series of lights attached to a dust-coated ceiling fan. As he took in the rest of the office, Xander noticed that the interior seemed more suitable for a historian of some kind rather than a physician.
Even if he was only a physician “of sorts.”
Questioning the office décor, however, seemed foolish given the appearance of the doctor himself. Where he recalled the stereotypical white coat with salt-and-peppered haired Caucasian man in his late forties that seemed to fit the mold for all who practiced medicine, Xander was face-to-face with a tall, lean black vampire with large brown eyes and an eerie-yet-captivating smile. A pair of off-green flip-flops and a casual, Hawaiian-style shirt over khaki shorts only distanced him even further from the cliché.
Xander took a seat in an artsy blue chair that Range motioned to and was startled by the amount of give the cushioned seat gave. Range, smiling at Xander’s surprise, navigated around the desk to his own seat and plopped down.
“Stryker’s kid in my office,” Range said, shaking his head in disbelief, “Truly an honor, I must say.”
“I’ve been hearing that sort of thing a lot.”
Range leaned back in his seat, “I’m not surprised. Your father was a good friend to most in this clan, myself included. You’re almost like family to us. Anyway,”—a clap of his hands brought emphasis to the subject change—“let’s get to business.”
“And business would be…”
“What do you know about vampires already?”
“Uh… life-feeders? I know that they—”
“I see you’ve been talking to Sophie,” Range said with a laugh.
Xander blushed, “Yea. I—”
“Then I’m sure you know a lot about how aurics work and such. What about sangsuigas?”
Xander shrugged, “I know that they drink blood.”
Range laughed again, “That’s hardly a start.” He reached into his desk and stood up, revealing three small, empty cylinders, an elastic strip, and a small white pouch. Maneuvering around the desk, he stepped be
side Xander and tore open the pouch and removed something small and shiny, “I know you’re going to hate me for this, but it’s procedure.”
“What is?” Xander asked.
“I have to take some blood,” Range answered.
Xander relaxed a little, “That’s it?”
Range, looking skeptical, shrugged, “Most aren’t as comfortable with the idea.”
“People are too afraid to bleed,” Xander smirked.
Range laughed, “Too true.”
The small and shiny something turned out to be a needle. Range, holding this in one hand, secured the elastic around Xander’s left arm with the other and tapped below the inside of his elbow until he’d found a suitable vein; the doctor’s lip twitching as he did. Then Xander watched as he slid the tip of the needle under his skin and felt a slight pinch as the vein was pierced. For a moment, Xander felt nothing, as if the momentary pinch from the needle had vanished, but then Range attached one of the three empty cylinders to the opposite end of the needle and the air-tight vacuum began to draw blood. There was a slight tickle and Xander watched the red fluid begin to fill the container. When it was almost full, Range replaced it with another, and then the last one when that, too, had become filled. When he was done, Range took the three vials of blood and started to label them.
“So what’s the blood for?” Xander asked.
Range smirked, “I missed lunch.”
Xander’s eyes widened.
Range laughed and shook his head as he sat down again, “I’m just messing with you! It’s a standard procedure for any who are going to be turned: ID, Social Security, and Mother’s milk.”
Xander stared at him for a moment, “You don’t seriously expect me to understand what that meant, do you?”
“No, but it’s fun to watch the human initiates squirm with confusion when I say it,” Range said with another laugh, “Whenever the clan takes a human as a member, which is rare, they create ‘files’ of that person before they’re changed. One of these”—Range held up a vial—“will be stored and recognized as your human blood before you were changed. Another will confirm that you are who you were in the event that such need arises. And the third is going to be your first meal when you’ve completed the change. Like I said: ‘ID, Social Security, and Mother’s milk’.”
“You think that one up all by yourself?” Xander asked with a grin.
“Actually I have a team of writers,” Range let out another laugh before putting the three vials in a small refrigerator behind his desk.
Xander leaned forward when the laughter had calmed down, “You were going to tell me more about sangsuigas.”
Range nodded, “Yes, I was! I believe that if you’re going to be turned, it’s important to know what it is that you’re getting yourself into.” He grinned at Xander, “In this case, a little more than what we consume to survive.”
Xander felt his face redden again and he nodded.
“Blood supplies nourishment for a sangsuiga not simply through the fluid itself, but also through the life-force that it contains,” as Range explained this, he turned away and opened a drawer in a cabinet behind him and pulled out a squealing rat by the tail, “As you already know, like any other animal, this creature has blood coursing through its veins. It is real, it is physical, and”—he licked his lips—“it is tangible. However,” he gave the rat a gentle shake by the tail, eliciting a series of panicked squeaks, “if we were to consult an auric, one who can ‘see’ the energies that living things give off, they would tell us of what else was coursing through the veins along with the blood.” He looked up, “You met Sensei yet?”
Xander nodded.
Range laughed, “Yea, he’s a strange one, too, always ranting about the fact that the Japanese word for blood is chi and… you speak Japanese?”
Xander shook his head.
Range nodded, “Yea, I tried to learn once, but it was too hard. Anyway, he’s always pointing out that the Japanese word for ‘blood’ and ‘energy’ are the same.”
Xander nodded, “Chi, right?”
Range smirked, “So he did mention it?”
“He said something about chi, I put the rest together,” Xander shrugged.
Range nodded and eyed the rat for a moment before putting it back, muttering about manners. When he spun back around he rested his hands on his desk, “Well, as crazy as he seems, he’s got a point!” He looked sternly at Xander, “Sangsuigas do not just drink blood, they drink a being’s life essence. That, more than anything, is what sustains us.
“Anyway… since you’re going to be one of us, I figured you might also want to know about what to be careful of and what to be ready for.”
Xander nodded, “Alright.”
Range smiled, “Okay. The popular myths have some truth, though most of them are bullshit.” He chuckled, “Sunlight has always been one of my favorites. When you are changed, you will not melt or explode if exposed. However, your skin will become sensitive to heat energy. You see, sangsuigas are so well built for being predators that even our flesh is ready for the hunt; each cell taking in information from the air around it, looking for changes in heat to signify if an area is inhabited by potential prey. Because a sang’s skin is so highly prepared for trace amounts of heat radiation, the rays from the sun actually overload the cells and begins to destroy them. The effect is you end up with a very bad sunburn after about an hour, your skin blisters with second degree burns after two or three, and by hours four or five…” he shook his head.
Xander nodded, “So sunlight does kill you.”
“Oh sweet Jesus, yes! I just said it wouldn’t melt or ignite you.”
“What about aurics?”
“What about them?”
Xander frowned, “Do aurics react the same way to the sun as sangs?”
Range nodded, “Despite the obvious differences, all vampires have descended from the same primary species. Aurics are, like us, unable to tolerate sunlight for very long.”
Range jumped back into the previous topic: “Next myth: garlic. The myth says that vampires are allergic to the stuff, but really I just think they were talking about the vampire’s girlfriend.”
Xander stared at him.
Range chewed his lip and cleared his throat, “Yea, I know, that one sucked… Anyway, garlic, despite all myths behind it, is an anticoagulant. That means that it helps keep blood flowing smoothly and keeps it from clotting. It is for this reason that it is actually better for a sangsuiga to consume garlic in some form. You see, because sangs can’t usually feed on a set schedule and many times the blood running in their veins is several days old, it is not uncommon for it to clot, and you can’t expect the heart to pump blood when it’s all scabbed up.” He smiled, “It actually provides extra mileage, so to speak.”
Xander cocked his head, curious by these new facts, but nodded nonetheless.
“Once you’ve been changed, it’s important to keep feeding, however. You will still be able to eat and drink normal foods like a regular human, but none of that will give you the energy you need to stay alive. Your body will break it down but your new system will have nothing to do with the components and you’ll expel them. A lot of us stop eating regular food altogether after we’re changed, others just incorporate blood into their meals—be it blood mixed in with their food or simply as a side.”
Range took a deep breath then, “Moving right along: turning into a bat or wolf or whatever: can’t happen. Flight: forget about it. Hypnosis: unless you’re half auric don’t hold your breath. Crosses: only as powerful as the person wielding them, which, most of the time, amounts to jack-and-shit. Silver: well, that myth started from the belief that the substance fights infection. Problem is the vampire gene isn’t an infection; it’s more of a cure—”
“Are vampires really dead?” Xander blurted, not seeing that particular myth coming into the spotlight anytime soon.
Range laughed again, “Nothing that feeds is dead, it’s actually the other w
ay around: eating is what keeps it from dying. The human body must die to allow the mutation to take place, but when the transformation is complete the system jump starts and new life begins.”
Hearing the answer reminded Xander of one of the more pressing questions he’d been contemplating: “And how will I be changed?”
Range nodded, “That is the biggest question. The ceremony will take place in two days at midnight.” He grinned.
Xander raised an eyebrow, “Is it always performed on the initiate’s birthday?”
Range shook his head, “No, it just happened to work out that way. When that time comes you will stand before Depok as he reads the initiation to you and you will meet the pure-blood who will bite you—”
“Pure blood?” Xander asked.
Range nodded, “Only a born sang has the right glands to produce the mutagen that is responsible for the change.”
“Mutagen?”
Another nod, “The fang of a sangsuiga vampire is hollow, like a snake’s, and contains a combination of toxins, which puts the victim into a state of paralysis during feeding, a hormone to stimulate a healing process in the victim—”
Xander leaned forward, becoming more and more intrigued, “Healing?”
“Mmhm. Evolution seemed to have given us a nifty little way of hiding our feeding habits. A human who is fed off of will only show the puncture wounds briefly before a hyper-active healing process is activated from the hormones and the bites heal over completely with the remaining life the victim has. Without the puncture wounds at the site of the bite, whoever finds the body would figure they had died of natural causes.”
Xander frowned, “But those who are made don’t have any of those abilities?”
Range shook his head, “The change doesn’t hollow out the teeth or completely form the glands.”
“So they can’t change a victim, then, can they?”
Range shivered at that, shaking his head, “Oh they can! The mutagen of a made sang doesn’t allow for a complete transformation. The victims of their bites make haphazard changes and come out of the process as insatiable monsters. These third-generation sangs are commonly referred to as ‘freaks’.”
Noir: A Crimson Shadow Novel Page 15