“Oh, for God’s sake! Seriously? After all this time? Do you really think taking a stroll down memory lane is going to do the trick? Everyone from your days as a man is dead, and the immortals you know haven’t any more of a clue than you do. What happens if you don’t find your answer, if you can’t find the true meaning of life? What then? Do you just end it all and go into the sun?”
“Don’t be such an asshole, Julian. I’m not on a quest for some guru to tell me the meaning of life. I’m on a quest to see if I can find some meaning in my life. From the beginning I thought if I continued to live for the greater good, and looked for absolution for my sins, it would be enough. It isn’t. I need to know there was a purpose to all this, to understand why so I can endure the endless years spread out in front of me.”
Julian was silent.
“I don’t know what answers I’ll find, if any. Margot says there’s a storm coming. I’ve felt it too, and the one thing I know is I’ll either come out of it contented with the existence I have or come out dead.”
The tiny muscle at the corner of Julian’s jaw worked back and forth, like he was fighting with what to say. He exhaled and pushed himself away from the counter. Grabbing Carlos in a bear hug, he whispered. “Whatever the storm, whatever the outcome, we will weather it together.”
Julian let go of Carlos’s shoulders as abruptly as he had grabbed them. He turned to leave without saying another word, but not before Carlos caught the red tinge of blood tears on his cheek. “Goodbye, hermano,” he murmured as he watched his brother leave.
Alone with his thoughts, he headed up to his room to pack, when a sudden urge to see Trina once more overwhelmed him. He changed direction and sprinted out the front door, but stopped halfway to his car. An annoying little voice in his head screamed: but she doesn’t want to see you! Closing his eyes, he exhaled tiredly. And didn’t you just ask everyone to respect your wishes? The voice was right, it would only cause them each more pain. Carlos turned and walked back into the house and straight upstairs.
Julian watched from the second-floor window of his room as Carlos turned and headed back to the house. He shook his head. “His decisions, my ass!” Julian muttered. Whatever Carlos said, Trina was the reason behind his sudden need for enlightenment. He exhaled sharply, letting the curtain fall back into place.
Chapter Thirteen
Trina kept her smile cemented in place as she worked, the pounding in her head keeping time with the music blasting from the speakers on the dance floor. She walked around clearing empty glasses, filling orders, and trying hard not to look as desolate as she felt.
It had been almost two weeks since she spoke to Carlos, and her heart was still breaking. She had no choice. She knew she had no right to ask him to change his way of life, but he had no right to ask her to accept it. They were at a stalemate and this was the only solution.
She went past the corner table where she and Carlos had first met. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before turning and asking the group sitting there if they needed anything.
“You okay, honey?” Susan asked as she came up behind Trina.
Trina nodded, but knew she wasn’t fooling anyone. “I’m good, thanks. If you wouldn’t mind, can you bring this table some more pretzels? I’m going to take my break.”
“No problem. You sure you’re okay? You want me to come with you?”
“No. I’m fine, really. I just need some air.”
Susan eyes were skeptical. “Okay. But remember, I’m here if you need me.”
“I know,” Trina said, flashing her friend what she hoped was a convincing smile, patting her arm before walking toward the employees’ lounge,
“Where are you going?” Rick asked as Trina passed the bar area.
“Break.”
“Trina, we’re really busy. You can’t leave Susan alone on the floor.”
Trina looked at Rick as he and Louie tended the busy bar. He was right. The club was hopping tonight, and they were already down a server as the newest girl, Debi, had called in sick. Susan had covered for her a lot. It was ironic because in the beginning it had been Trina covering for Susan all the time.
Pull it together, Trina. The breakup was your decision...
“You’re right, Rick, I’m sorry. I’ll get back out there. I just need to change my shoes.”
Rick nodded and Trina rushed past him, through the doors that lead to their lockers. Sitting on the bench she traded her black platform pumps for a pair of black Nike cross trainers. She knew the manager liked his girls to wear heels, but tonight she didn’t care. She hurried and tied the laces and rushed back out to the floor.
The rest of the night went by in a blur and she was grateful to be so busy that she didn’t have time to feel sorry for herself.
“Why are you still so down? I thought you were the one who wanted to stop seeing Carlos,” Susan said, unloading a tray of dirty glasses and empty bottles onto the bar.
“I know. But it’s not as cut and dried as it seems. The fault wasn’t with Carlos himself. He was wonderful. He still is. But there were things in his life that I…” Trina didn’t finish. Susan was a friend, but she would never betray Carlos and his family that way. She’d caused enough hurt. Not that Susan would believe her anyway.
“What?”
“Nothing, never mind. It doesn’t matter anymore, anyway.”
“Jeez. Remind me never to share my deepest darks with you either,” Susan said sullenly.
Trina was about to respond when she heard someone call her name. She turned and saw Margot standing by the stairs. She knew Margot had said her name quietly and that no one else had heard it but her. She guessed it was a side effect of sharing blood with Carlos.
“Excuse me,” Trina said as she got up and walked toward the stairs. “Hi. Margot, right? What’s up? Is everything okay?”
“Yes and no. Carlos is gone,” she said, her voice flat.
Trina froze. She didn’t quite know what Margot meant by gone.
Margot elaborated. “I mean, he’s left the house. He took off for a week after you two last spoke. When he finally came home, he changed everything. He freed the pets—I mean, the kids—then said something about traveling. He’s been gone a little more than a week. I just thought you’d like to know.”
“He freed them. What do you mean?”
“He gave them all leave to go their separate ways, to leave the house and be on their own. He severed their blood ties. Some have already left but others are still at the house. Carlos said it was their choice and they could stay as long as they wanted, no strings attached.”
“I see.”
“Do you?” Margot asked, tilting her head to one side.
“What do you mean by that? It’s for the best. Now those kids will have a chance at living a normal life. They can go to school, make a success out of their lives.”
“Do you really believe the things that come out of your mouth?” Margot said, her voice dripping with uncharacteristic disdain.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You come into our home and meet us for one evening, then act as judge and jury when you really know nothing about us at all. You think because your life went one way that all kids will have the same chances that you had. That’s a very noble sentiment, but that’s not the way things are. Those kids had nothing before they met Carlos, and you know what? They still have nothing because you guilted him into putting them back on the streets. At least some of them had the sense to stick around.”
“Why, so they can hope they’ll be reinstated as your blood slaves?”
“You have no clue what a blood slave is or how they are treated in our world, so don’t use labels you don’t understand. Those kids are facing far worse out on the streets, especially since they all carry a blood mark.”
“Mark, what mark?”
“You really are a naïve little girl, aren’t you? Naïve and opinionated. Yes, a blood mark, and no, it has nothing to do with the arrangement we
had with them. You do realize you carry Carlos’s mark on you as well?”
Trina’s hand instinctively went to her throat. She opened her mouth to say something, but she was too stunned to speak. She knew about the marks from her great-grandmother’s diaries, but she had forgotten all about them.
“Yes, my dear,” Margot confirmed. “Once you share blood with one of our kind you wear their mark, kind of like a beacon. Carlos will always be able to find you as we will always be able to find those kids—that is, unless they’re taken.”
“Taken? Wouldn’t a blood mark protect you from that?”
“Usually, yes. But there are those of our kind who don’t respect the old ways. We have codes of behavior that go back millennia, but of course that’s all changing now.”
“Changing how?”
“You are either born to our life or you are transformed into it, and there are proper ways to do it. Do you remember the comedy Young Frankenstein? Remember how Igor was supposed to obtain the brain of a famous scholar and scientist, but instead took an abnormal brain back to the lab? I know it’s a silly analogy, but it’s sort of the same. The transformation was flawed because Igor didn’t follow directions. The same holds true for our kind. We have rules that need to be followed or the end result will be monstrous.”
Trina swallowed. “You said you were either born to it or transformed into it. Are you telling me your kind can reproduce?”
“Well, don’t sound so horrified by the thought, but yes, in some cases. But it is very rare.”
Trina’s head was spinning. Almost every preconceived notion she had was being stripped away, one by one. “How? You have no heartbeat, you’re not alive.”
“We are alive, Trina, we’re just different. Our hearts work very differently than yours, but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist, don’t beat. Carlos really didn’t tell you very much about us, did he? But then again, you never really gave him the chance.”
“I guess not,” Trina said, chewing on her lip.
“I’m sorry for that. Maybe if he had, things would be different right now. It’s too bad, really. I liked you. You brought Carlos to life…that is, until you broke his heart.” She turned to leave.
Trina cringed, hearing the truth in her words. “Margot?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for coming to tell me. I really liked you all too.”
Margot shrugged as if to say, too late now, and left without another word.
Trina turned to finish cleaning up her tables. She felt her coworkers’ eyes on her as she did, but when she looked up everyone managed to look busy. She was glad no one was brave enough to venture a question, and she quietly finished up and left without so much as a goodbye. As she headed home she felt a sudden sense of foreboding and a single word ran through her head. Fool.
***
Trina crossed the street and headed the four shorts blocks down toward the subway. Normally the walk didn’t bother her. The streets were usually deserted at this hour, but that was never a concern. In this town there was always someone around somewhere, and it was for that reason she suddenly found herself jumping at shadows. Since her abrupt introduction to the reality of the supernatural, she knew what could be lurking there, and these days that didn’t mean your average run-of-the-mill mugger.
She found her eyes searching for other people as she walked, finding comfort in the predawn activities of the city’s early morning work force. There was no other way to phrase it. She was creeped out. It wasn’t just Margot’s unexpected visit, or what she said that bothered her. It was something else. For some reason she felt like she was being watched, or tracked, and no matter how hard she tried to shake the feeling, she couldn’t.
Maybe Carlos had set up some kind of surveillance to keep tabs on her. But Margot would have told her that. Wouldn’t she have? The 14th Street subway was just ahead across the street. Without waiting for the light Trina bolted across the street and down the subway stairs. By the time she got to the platform her heart was racing, but when she saw Gus, the old homeless guy that called this station home, she couldn’t help but feel like a complete idiot.
He was in the same place he was every night, in the same clothes, with the same shopping cart full of his belongings. Looking up from the crossword puzzle he no doubt fished out of the trash, he smiled. “Hey, Red, why so winded tonight? Devil got a hold of your tail or something?” he said with a wheezy chuckle.
“Gus,” Trina said, trying to catch her breath. “Am I glad to see you! I’m okay, just a little spooked. Everything okay with you? Nothing strange happening around here tonight, right?”
“Nope. Same old, same old.” He grinned flashing his two remaining teeth.
Trina exhaled. “Good,” she replied, fishing a ten-dollar bill out of her jacket pocket. “Do me favor. Don’t hang around here all night, okay? Go to a shelter or something. I can’t explain it, but I’ve got a bad feeling I just can’t shake.”
Gus took the money and stuck it in the only pocket of his pants that didn’t have holes. “Don’t you worry about me, Red, I’ll be all right. I think I may head over to one of the parks tonight. Weather’s fine for once. I think spring is finally here.”
“Just be careful tonight,” she said, looking around distractedly.
The screech of the subway as it slowed into the station jerked her back to attention. She waved goodbye to Gus and stepped into the deserted train car.
Trina sat down, running a hand over her forehead and through her hair. The prerecorded voice announced the doors were closing, and she slumped back against the hard plastic seat, waiting for the train to pull out.
The train rattled along while she sat, angry with herself for her silly, irrational trepidation. “Get it together, Trina. You’re acting like a neophyte fresh from the suburbs afraid of the big, bad city. Get a grip!” she mumbled to herself as they approached the first stop.
The noise from the tracks was almost deafening, when one of the interior metal doors to the rear of the car opened. Two young men stumbled their way through from an adjacent car. Laughing, they tripped over the threshold, barely grabbing hold of the hand straps as the train lurched around a curve. Trina could smell the booze on them from ten feet away. They made their way toward the center of the car, pushing and shoving each other as they went.
The conductor’s voice crackled over the loudspeaker that 23rd Street was the next stop.
The car swayed down the track, and Trina got up to stand by the door, but pitched forward, losing her footing. As she reached for one of the poles near the rear door, a hand suddenly shot out from behind to steady her.
“Thanks,” she muttered, gripping the pole. She realized both guys had moved, positioning themselves in front of the sliding doors. Perhaps they were getting off as well, but between what her gut told her and their body language, she guessed otherwise. The car was empty except for the three of them. With all that space, why would they block the door?
“Um, excuse me,” she announced, maneuvering her way past. “This is my stop.”
“I don’t think so,” the taller one said. He burped, and the smell of beer rushed from his mouth along with his words.
Trina’s adrenaline went into overdrive. Hadn’t she dealt with enough already? This was just one more hassle on a very long list, and compared to dealing with vampire politics, these pissants didn’t even make the top ten.
Her mind ran through all her options. She needed to keep her wits. Regardless of how many drunks she had handled in the past, it was still two against one.
They were so drunk she could probably get away with swinging her bag at them. Suppose one of them caught it, then what? Knowing it was an easy error in judgment for any woman to make, she lifted her shoulder bag over her head and across her chest, freeing up her hands.
Thinking fast, she waited for the train car to sway again. Stepping lightly aside, she brought herself closer to the drunk on her right, but stayed in a defensive stance just in case. T
he station was close, and the overhead lights flickered as they approached. The train bumped its way toward the platform, gears grinding in a high-pitched squeal.
As she anticipated, the car lurched forward as the train slowed, throwing its passengers off balance. Planting her feet, Trina grabbed the drunk to her side and shoved him forward, making the most of the train’s momentum. He crashed headlong into his friend and the two fell to the floor between two seats. The main doors opened, and Trina walked calmly out onto the platform. “Drunken stupidity, zero. Keeping a cool head, priceless,” she murmured to herself climbing the stairs to the street.
Still shaken, her adrenaline level evened out as she walked. She had three short blocks to go before she hit the perimeter of the park and home sweet home. For the first time in what seemed like ages, she glanced up at the sky. It was a clear night, and the crescent moon rode high in its blackness. Taking a deep breath, she chuckled. Gus was right—spring was definitely in the air, even if buried under a pervasive blanket of petroleum smog.
She turned the corner onto 19th Street and slowed her pace. Parked outside her house was a long black limousine. As she walked past, the door opened, and a young man climbed out of the front passenger seat.
“Ms. Markham?” he inquired.
Surprised, Trina stopped and turned around. Immediately she knew he was a vampire and her guard went up. She may have been naïve when she first met Carlos, but she had since become a quick study in Vampire 101 and could spot one anywhere. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”
“No, ma’am, but we have a mutual acquaintance. I’ve been sent to pick you up. We’ve been waiting for you.”
“Mutual friend? And who’s that, if you don’t mind telling me?”
“Señor Sandro Mendoza.”
Trina froze for a moment. Sandro was the man Carlos had introduced to her at the art exhibition. She remembered him clearly. He was condescending and cold, but it was more the woman accompanying him and her vacant eyes that Trina couldn’t forget. At that point, she had been naïve to the supernatural world. But now? Admittedly, she knew more than she wanted to. Sandro was a vampire, and with the way her gut was twisting, she knew he probably wasn’t at all like Carlos in that department.
The Cursed by Blood Saga Page 68