Mourning Lark

by Jen Pretty

  At the Hummer, we stripped out of our waterproof suits. We rinsed off most of the blood by wading into the Neglinnaya river before we exited. Each of the outfits came with a patch kit, so Vilen said he would patch up the arm of my suit where the vampire had torn it.

  I was silent on the way back to Vaughn’s mansion. The strange experience in the tunnel played over in my mind.

  We went back down into the tunnels the next day. As we rounded a corner, the sound of music reverberated through the tunnel. I followed it until we came upon a large space filled with vampires. Like the first large group we found, there were some humans in the mix, Unlike the first group, this one was accompanied by the scent of blood hanging in the air.

  “What the hell?” I whispered from the doorway to the square room. It looked like a theatre. The ground sloped downward, and the vampires danced and lurched around each other.

  “Let’s go a different way,” Ninel said in my ear.

  Durga rose up and flashed my eyes to red. The scent of blood was strong enough that Durga was not going to leave without an explanation.

  She shoved me forward into the writhing crowd. Vampires on all sides stopped dancing and backed away as I marched through. The further I walked into the space, the stronger the scent was.

  “Durga,” I heard whispered over and over. I was pretty obvious with my red eyes, but Durga’s rage increased as we moved forward and my arms split, producing weapons.

  A vampire screamed and tried to run away, but my muscle had barricaded the entrance.

  Vampires cowered, and the music stopped abruptly.

  “Please, Durga, we don’t kill anyone!” a vampire cried out from the front.

  Durga pushed me in the direction of the voice. What I found at the front was the biggest shock of my life.

  There were dozens of humans, with knives in their hands and small cuts on their nearly naked bodies. Their eyes were lidded like they were drunk or high. I stopped walking and watched as one slid the knife across his arm and offered it to a vampire that was standing behind him as if he was oblivious to the fact all the vampires were staring at me.

  “What is going on here?” Durga’s voice echoed through the now silent room. No answer was forthcoming, so she moved me forward towards a human. “What are you doing?” she asked a woman dressed in only a sports bra and shorts. Her arms had several shallow cuts, and there was one on her thigh that was weeping.

  “I’m feeding them,” she said in a dreamy voice.

  Durga retreated, satisfied that the human was here of her own will. This, of course, left me with the mess she created here.

  I scratched my neck and turned to face the room full of frightened vampires. When they saw my eyes had returned to normal, they relaxed.

  “Alright, uhm, sorry to interrupt. Carry on,” I said as I made my way back to the entrance where the team was waiting.

  Oops.

  The next two weeks went by. We found no more fallen vampires. Even though we went back to the start of the mine shaft several times, it was always empty and looked untouched. Durga was always pushing me towards the door, determined to find the bloody buffalo demon, but I had long since lost my interest in everything to do with Moscow. That is how I found myself in a bar at three AM.

  “One more,” I called to the bartender who had looked ready to cut me off after my last drink. He brought me another but admonished me in Russian. His face a mask of disapproval. I didn’t speak Russian, so I didn’t feel the slightest bit chastised.

  I sipped my drink and stared at myself in the mirror that lined the wall behind the liquor bottles. Right in front of me, there was a bottle missing, leaving a gap so I could see my reflection. I had pulled my straight dark hair up into a ponytail several hours ago; before our most recent stomp through the dank tunnels. Wisps of hair had escaped the elastic, making me look like I had been through a hurricane. With no makeup on, my pale features were even starker. The alcohol didn't add colour to my cheeks like most people. I wished my skin was more olive like my mother’s had been. I got her hair; I remembered that much about her. She had the same dark straight hair that slid over her shoulders. She would hold it back with one hand when she reached into the oven to get out dinner or when she bent over to pick up the toys I had left on the floor. Her hair. What a silly thing to remember.

  I downed the last of my drink and turned away from the mirror. The stool beside me was empty, and I wished that Frankie was there. His magic had limits. I knew thinking about him wouldn’t bring him here, but I thought about him and wished, anyway. Taking out my phone, I read over his last text messages. I typed him a new message, but deleted it and put my phone away. Drunk texts would be regrets in the morning. Maybe I wasn't drunk enough yet.

  “Are you ready to go home yet?” Ninel asked from the barstool on the other side of me.

  “No, unless by home, you mean America.” I snorted a laugh. “I don't have a home there anymore either. So, I guess this bar is my home now.”

  “We close in one hour,” The Russian man behind the bar said. I guess he spoke English after all.

  “You hear that, Ninel? In one hour, I will be homeless. Maybe I’ll make the sewers my home. I can curl up with the giant mythical rat at night.”

  “That is not a myth,” Alex said sliding onto Frankie’s stool. I scowled at him, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “It is a myth,” the bartender said.

  “I have seen it!” Alex protested. He was loud. His voice rang in my ears, and I gave him a shove.

  “Move down one seat!” I said. He looked at me for a moment and then slid over. Frankie's seat was once again vacant. That didn’t last though. The other annoying man in my life, Singh plopped down on the bar stool, rested an elbow on the bar and his head in his hand, so he was looking at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Is this the new improved Lark?” He asked.

  “Who said I needed improving? I was happier before all this crap came into my life.”

  “Were you?” he asked, a mocking look of disbelief on his face.

  “Shut up,” I said, turning back to my mirror. “And get out of Frankie’s seat.”

  I looked the same. My head was heavy, so I let it fall forward to the bar a little too hard. The impact sent a ring through my ears, but I was numb enough it didn't hurt. I lifted my head and let it fall a few more times on the hard, brass bar.

  I wanted to go home but I couldn’t. At least not until I found this buffalo and Vernon and killed them and then hunted down Vincent to make sure he was ok. He could be dead, for all I knew; Despite Vaughn’s assurances.

  “Come on, Kitten. Time for bed,” Singh said, sliding my arm around his shoulders. There was no way I could walk like that, he was too tall, but when Ninel wrapped my other arm over his shoulders, and the two of them stood up, they suspended me off the ground like a hammock between two trees. They walked a few paces before I yelled at them to put me down. They did, because, in this day and age, they are likely to get their asses kicked by the bouncers if they didn’t, but Singh kept his arm around me, ushering me to the door. The night air was bitter. The wind whipped down the street and blew rain in my face. It was early spring, but mother nature didn’t seem to know that. Some tulips had sprouted in the gardens around the city. They were hardier than I was. I watched the ones outside the bar sway in the breeze. Their lush green leaves were whipping about. The flower heads were still closed tight, waiting for their perfect moment to bloom and show the world they had beaten the odds and survived beneath frozen soil all winter. They mocked me with their strength and determination.

  “Stop scowling at the vegetation and get in the damn vehicle,” Singh said.

  I scowled at him, then got in the damn vehicle. Since when was Singh the voice of reason. I thought he had settled on the being the one who voted for naps. Maybe my binge drinking was cutting into his nap time.

  That thought proved correct when I collapsed on my bed, and a white lion collapse
d beside me. Within minutes he was snoring away, hogging all the blankets. I had long since learned not to bother fighting with the big jerk. I curled around him and let my eyes drift closed.

  When my eyes opened again, the sun was streaming through the open window blinds. I rolled over and hid my head under the pillow, realizing only a moment later that I was alone in the room. I hadn’t been alone in a room, or a bed in weeks. Stretched out like a starfish, I occupied all the bed. I pulled the blankets up over my head, and they came untucked from the bottom with a quick tug, so I was in a peaceful dim fort. No more sun searing my retinas and the heat of my cocoon was delicious.

  My phone made a blip, alerting me to a text message. I snuck one arm out of my cocoon and fumbled around on the bedside table until my fingers found the cell phone and then pulled it back into my secret oasis. The light from the screen was almost as bright as the sun, but I squinted at it with one eye and read the bleary text. It was from Frankie.

  “I miss you, hope you will be home soon,” he wrote.

  I wanted to say I missed him too, but Durga’s warning had left me cautious of what I was doing and saying. Dying for a guy was stupid.

  I typed a reply and then deleted it. As I was about to put the phone down, Durga took over and sent Frankie a text. I watched as the words appeared on the small screen and tried to stop her before she hit send, but it was too late. Holy fuck! “Holy fuck!” I repeated out loud as Durga slid back into her place inside me, pleased as punch.

  “I want that too,” Frankie replied. Durga had no chill. Now Frankie thought I wanted way more from him than I ever imagined and he wanted that too. No more text privileges for Durga. I might as well drunk-text with her around. I popped my arm out of the blanket and threw my phone across the room.

  “Ouch. what the hell?”

  I popped the blanket down to see who I had hit. It was only Drew, so I pulled the blanket back up and curled up in my fort. My super blanket fort of invisibility.

  “Are you still drunk?” he asked.

  "Maybe,” I muttered. It would be better if I were. But it was possible I was losing my mind and just didn’t care anymore.

  “Maybe we need a day off, you know today is the Victory Day Parade. Why don’t we spend the day on the streets instead of under them?”

  I peeked out from the corner of the blanket. That might be fun.

  “Come on, get yourself cleaned up, it smells like a bar in here.”

  I threw a pillow at him, and he squealed before dashing out of the room and closing the door behind him. After worming my way out from under the blankets, I staggered to the washroom. As the shower warmed up, steam billowed over the curtain, and I turned to look at myself in the mirror. I looked drunk still, but the start of a hangover headache was coming on. I rifled through the cabinets until I found pain relievers and popped a couple. Durga wouldn’t heal my hangover unless necessary for vampire killing, so I would suffer until I took something. I swallowed the pills down with a few glasses of water for good measure. My shower was quick. With no interest in drying my hair today, I tied it up wet. I could wear my hat. It was sunny out, and the warm weather had arrived. It wasn’t hot, but it wasn’t arctic anymore either.

  I walked back out of the washroom, feeling about fifty percent better. Singh was in my room as a human for once. He only shifted if we were in town, but the house was a lion friendly zone.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  "I’m coming to the parade." He smiled at me, and his canines were still long and pointed like a lion. "I haven’t been to a parade in a long time."

  “Singh, you have a little something,” I said pointing to my teeth.

  He reached up to his mouth and felt his teeth, then hissed at me. “How about now?”

  I laughed and threw a sock at him. He growled and chucked it back. We moseyed down the stairs giggling like idiots. It felt good.

  I followed him into the dining room. The smell of bacon turned my stomach, but I choked some down. I would not turn my nose up at bacon, no matter how much rum I drank the night before. It seemed to help settle my stomach anyway, and a couple of glasses of orange juice cleared my head. When we walked out the door, I felt better than I had in a while. Alex stayed behind. He said he had seen too many Victory Day parades and would rather gnaw off his hand than see another. So, Vilen and Ninel came with Drew and Singh and I. We headed out to see the sights.

  “We should take metro,” Vilen said. His Russian accent seemed thicker today. As if the patriotic day made him more Russian. “Will be no space for parking.”

  “OK, lead the way,” I said.

  We followed Vilen’s broad back through the gates and out onto the sidewalk. It was a few blocks before we came to the first entrance to the subway. It was a small building with pillars in front. I dreaded going back underground, but as we climbed down the stairs, I realized it was spacious with archways and wide platforms. Only a few other people were waiting for the train. We must be closer to the start of the metro line. We stepped onto the train when it pulled up, and I sat down on a seat beside Singh.

  “So, what is this Victory Day about, anyway?” I asked him, popping gum into my mouth.

  “It marks the end of World War Two,” Singh explained. “It's overblown here in Moscow. The people have a lot of pride and make it a big show.”

  He took the gum from my hand. I only got it out for him; he had eaten steak raw for breakfast, and his breath smelled like pennies. I made the mistake of telling him his breath smelled once. I would not do that again. Cats hold grudges and waking up with his butt in my face was not fun.

  More and more people kept getting on the train until I wasn’t comfortable sitting anymore. Feeling claustrophobic was crazy after all the time I had spent in the tunnels, but people standing over me had a different effect. A nice older lady took my seat when I offered it, and I took her place at a pole, jammed between Ninel and a stranger. By the time we got off the subway, people had packed into the train, and we spilled out on to the platform. The platform here was ornate and beautiful. It ran between two sets of tracks, with a high ceiling and attractive circular cutouts that were so well lit, it felt like being in a mall instead of underground. Once we had gathered ourselves, we climbed the stairs to the rising sounds of music and feet marching on stone. We exited a beautiful building at the top of the stairs, its design fit the theme of the old buildings in the city.

  The crowds were everywhere. I wasn't sure how many people were in Moscow, but I was sure they were all in the streets. The sun blared down on us, warming my skin through my jacket. And the percussion of drums beat in my chest through the loudspeakers. Singh slung an arm over my shoulders and guided me through the crowd till we made it to the front and could see the Red Square.

  Soldiers in bright red uniforms marched in exaggerated steps, carrying flags. Hundreds more stood in perfect rows in front of the Kremlin. Tanks rolled in, and soldiers moved along beside the heavy artillery in formation. They marched in such perfect time that their feet shook the ground.

  Overhead, planes flew in formation too. Their coloured tails tracked through the sky long after they went by, making the whole city feel like a magical land. A marching band played, and the surrounding people cheered. The Red Square filled with marching soldiers; their white gloves swung in unison as they marched. It made them seem like they were more machines than men and the musicians moved in perfect synchronization.

  Soldiers of all varieties turned to look at one place and saluted. I peeked out in front of Singh and realized the president was standing on a podium and all the men and women were saluting him as they passed. Behind me, people shouted, and children cheered. I turned around to see the crowd. They all had flags and banners or blown up photos of soldiers.

  It was overwhelming. Scattering my senses but the joy pulled a smile to my face. This was a special day for everyone here, and you could feel the pride of the people. I let my eyes trail over the crowd of people, taking in the children’s
faces and the old men dressed in uniform watching the young men march to the beat they must have once marched to.

  A familiar face jumped out of the crowd. I focused in and red eyes locked with mine. A smile curved the cruel mouth before it disappeared in the sea of people.

  I pushed Singh’s arm off me and pressed through the crowd. The people made way, but not fast enough.

  “Move people!” I yelled. Singh was hot on my heels. The people were packed so tight that many of them couldn’t move, but Durga pressed me to run. I couldn’t run. Fuck.

  I pushed through to the back of the crowd and looked up and down the street. He was gone.

  “Who was it?” Singh asked form right behind me.

  “Vernon,” I replied. “He’s here all right.”

  “Let’s split up,” Drew said.

  “No one should go alone,” Ninel suggested.

  I strode off down the street heading North. He couldn't have gotten too far. I stopped. If he was nearby, I could track him. I took a deep calming breath and sent out my senses.

  My senses flooded out like an overflowing coffee cup to coat the city. At first, I found nothing: a few vampires sitting around, but no Vernon. Then I noticed something I hadn’t before. There was a blank space where my senses flowed over and around, but not through. It was in the tunnels. I had felt nothing like that before. It was as if a small part of the city didn’t even exist.

  “Get the rest of the guys. We need to go in the tunnels,” I said.

  Ninel took out his phone and made a call.

  This was just the break I needed.

  Finally.

  CHAPTER NINE

  We took the metro past the crush of the parade and met up with another vampire who had brought our hummer, waterproof clothes, and Alex. Changing in a different back alley this time, we suited up in a hurry. Durga rushed me and was shouting commands.