by Andrew Lynch
I placed the cup back on the saucer, picked up my pen, and twirled it in my fingers like a dagger. Practice makes perfect. I looked at the pile of paper in front of me. Time to get to work.
Or not, it turned out, as I started admiring my pen. I’d had it specially made. I had decided that regardless of the job one was doing, one could always use a good pen by one’s side.
It was fashioned from a British oak, worn smooth by my fingers over the months. The pensmith had assured me that the wood was from the heart of the tree and had been prepared exactly as I’d requested. Simple on the outside, but all the innards, and the visible nib, were a silver alloy. Some top of the line stuff, the man had claimed.
I liked the metaphor. Old and time-tested on the outside. New and cutting edge on the inside.
Delightful.
Anyway. That was enough procrastinating. On to the marking.
I checked my phone. Nothing. Damn. I really would have to grade the papers.
I knew who’s was first. Reliquiae’s.
At least this would make it an easy start to the session. I might have only been here a month, but I already knew who would be worth keeping an eye on. Reliquiae was definitely one of them. She was smart, and engaged with what was being taught. Just the type of student any teacher looked forward to having in their class. But… there was something else about her.
No. I must be trying to procrastinate again. I forced myself to start marking. Oh dear. She had put the wrong date.
A bad start, but we all had off days. And… the first answer was wrong too. Okay, not every test could be a winner.
Second answer, also wrong. On the plus side, it was good that I was managing to challenge such a bright student. Job well done, me!
Third answer wrong. Okay, she must have just been feeling bad in today’s class.
I heard Richard shout.
Then the door slammed shut.
Perfect! A reason to not mark the papers.
I stood up and went downstairs. Richard was standing in the living room looking lost, holding Reliquiae’s school bag.
‘What’s wrong?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know. She just ran out!’
Oh dear.
‘Richard. Did you… say anything to her? Do anything?’
‘What? No! God no, of course not.’
I held up my hands to calm him down. ‘I just had to make sure. Tell me what happened.’
‘I don’t know. I made her a marmite sandwich–’
‘That explains it.’
‘Father!’ he chided me. ‘It’s not funny! Then we sat down and started talking and she seemed fine and I was telling her about the football team and cheerleaders but then I must have slipped or fallen or–’
‘Slow down, Richard. Take a breath.’
He looked up with the same boyish eyes as ever, and I thought he was about to cry. I knelt down in front of him on one knee. Standing, we were the same height, but it made him sit back down on the couch. I smiled in what I hoped was a reassuring way.
‘Richard. Is it possible that she didn’t like you talking about other girls? Perhaps she likes you, and you hurt her feelings?’
His mouth flapped open a few times as if he wanted to argue.
‘I didn’t mean it like that though. I don’t like them.’
‘Well, maybe you didn’t make that clear enough?’
‘I… I suppose that’s possible.’
‘And she left her bag.’
‘Should we look through it?’
‘What?’ Clearly, I hadn’t taught him everything he needed to know about girls just yet. ‘No. No, you never look through a girl's bag.’
‘But just to find out where she lives, I mean. To give it back to her.’
‘Don’t worry. I can get her parents’ number from school files. I’ll do that tomorrow.’
‘Okay.’
‘And then you can go and give it back to her. With an apology.’
‘Okay.’
‘Okay.’ I could see there was no point trying to get him to do anything productive with his time now, so I’d let him get on with whatever it was he did when I wasn’t around.
I went back upstairs to get on with the marking.
I sat down, musing at how fun it must be to have girls be your biggest problem. Oh yes, those were the days.
And what luck! In the time I’d been talking to Richard, I’d received a text. Perfect time-wasting material.
I picked my phone up and looked at it. A thrill of anticipation ran through me as I saw her number pop up. Claire.
One of only three numbers I’d already known when I moved into Sanctuary a month ago, Claire was the local chemist.
Her text was a simple “It’s ready”.
It had been too long. Who knew the damage that waiting a month had done. I pushed to the back of my mind the thought of how many people I might have already failed by having to sit idle.
I got up, left my bedroom, and walked to the guest room. I kept the door locked, and the key always in my pocket. I opened the door. It was empty apart from a bed. I walked to the closet. It was almost a walk-in closet, ideal for this purpose, instead of the closet in my room which was far more modest.
This was definitely one of the benefits of moving to America for someone in my line of work. Well, my previous line of work. In England, this had involved a lot of logistics, and keeping a contact at the local police station to tip me off if someone might be doing a search. A lot of hiding places around the house. But here? No problem.
I stepped into my armoury. I kept the guns up high. That was a reflex from being a parent with a small child. Of course, Richard could reach these now, but old habits die hard. Below that were a collection of weapons ranging from baseball and cricket bats, to katanas and broadswords. Even a Gladius. Name a material, and I could probably find a weapon made out of it in here. Everything had a use.
At the back was my old uniform. I didn’t plan on wearing it again, but you never knew.
My phone buzzed and I looked at the screen. It was Claire again.
“You coming, hunter?”
Chapter 7
Reliquiae
I sat in darkness, hunched in the corner of my bedroom, trembling.
If I pulled the curtains back, would I burn up?
Had vampire puberty finally started? I knew that was how it happened for some supernaturals. Some of us were born looking like monsters. They couldn’t live in human society, of course. Some of us were born effectively human but changed at puberty. For some, like Ariel, it was just gaining demonic powers, for others it was growing horns, a tail, and scales all over your body. Homeschooling was common in supe families.
My phone buzzed again. I couldn’t handle people today. Not even my best friend.
I replayed last night in my head again. What had I almost done? I just had such a thirst.
I could still feel it. The thirst wouldn’t leave me. It was subtle now, but it was there. The dizziness was gone, but I didn’t even remember getting home last night. One minute I was running away from what I could have done to Rick, the next I woke up in my bed with the morning light seeping through the blinds.
Tears welled up in my eyes, but I gripped my chest. There it was. My heartbeat. Strong as it always was. See, still alive. Still human.
Almost.
I heard my dad shout from the hallway, “Rel, you want lunch?”
My stomach rumbled at the thought of food, but I couldn’t allow myself to move. ‘I’m fine!’
I heard a whispered conversation outside my door. Someone knocked. My dad, again.
“Can I come in?”
“No!” I shouted. He couldn’t come in. What would he see? I hadn’t dared to look in the mirror. Would my skin be ashen grey? Would I have fangs? Would my eyes glow?
More hushed voices from outside, and then footsteps walking away.
My dad pushed the door open a crack. “Rel?”
“Dad! I said no!” I c
lapped a hand over my mouth just in case.
“It’s really dark in here. Let’s open the curtains.” I started to protest, but before I could think of a reason not to open them, he’d crossed the room.
He whipped the curtains back, and light streamed in. I forced myself even further into the corner. I was safe, the light didn’t touch me.
My dad sat on the bed and patted it. “Take a seat, honey. Let’s have a talk.”
I was trapped in my corner of darkness. “I’m okay here.”
“Okay. Your mom and I felt that we should have a chat. Uh, how did tutoring go?”
What was he trying to get at? “It was fine.”
“You came back sooner than we expected. Is everything okay?”
“Sure.”
My dad brushed some invisible dirt off of his pants, and steeled himself. He looked straight at me. “Rel. Did Richard… hurt you?”
“No!” The answer burst from my mouth before I could even think about it. I hadn’t even thought how they might see my actions. Running home from a guy’s house and locking myself in my room.
He held his hands up to calm me down, but I couldn’t hold myself back. It was time they told me about what I really was. “Dad, I had… I don’t know… urges. I wanted him.”
My dad’s eyes grew wide. “I understand. That’s… completely normal at your–”
“No. Not like that! I mean I wanted to…” It all seemed hazy now. Had I really wanted to do those things? Maybe it really had just been teenage lust. Maybe I was worrying over nothing. Then I remembered how time had slowed. How fast and strong I’d become. How dangerous I had been.
“I almost bit him, dad.”
This time his eyes almost popped out of his head, and his jaw dropped. “Oh.” Jeez, was that all he could say? He held out his arm, his hand just crossing over into my shadowy corner. “Rel. I don’t want you to worry. Your mother and I can help–”
“Tell me about vampires,” I whispered. It had never affected me until last night, so I’d never pushed the issue. “Tell me what I am.”
“I will.”
At his reassuring voice, I put my hand into his.
“I can tell you what I know, but I have to admit that you are… special.” His grip on my hand tightened. “This sunlight won’t hurt you. Come on.” He pulled me out of the corner, and just like he said, the sun was warm against my skin, but nothing more. He continued pulling me in as he stood up, and hugged me.
I hugged him, and the tears I’d been holding back slowly crept out. I checked to make sure I wasn’t crying blood and staining his white shirt.
He sat me down on the bed, and I rested my head on his shoulder. “How am I special?” I asked, in between sobs and sniffs.
He stroked my hair as he talked. “Vampires are classed as the undead. They have no heartbeat, they feed on blood, they’re immortal up to a point, and sunlight will burn them.”
I felt the warming sun on my face. If anything, it was calming. “So I’m not a vampire?”
‘You are… well, there are different names for you, but the most common one is a Draugr.’ Seeing my face look blank, he tried again. “But names don’t matter. You are a true vampire. A vampire prime. A vampire Queen.”
“Still sounds like being a vampire,” I said.
“Not at all. Undead vampires are what you’d expect. Hollywood did a great job of that. But as usual, they paint all vampires as evil. That’s not the case. They’re undead, yes, but so are ghosts, like Erin. Vampires just have trouble controlling their bloodlust. Outside of that, and the fact that holy places and sunlight will kill them, they’re just like any other supernatural. Some good company, some less so, not that different from humans really.”
“Okay. But what about me? I could have killed Rick, dad.”
He sighed a deep sigh. “That’s right. You will need to drink blood. Your mother and I had hoped this wouldn’t happen for a few more decades, but, to be honest, we didn’t know when it would start.”
“Decades?”
“We knew it would happen when you were a child, but we didn’t know how long childhood would last for someone that’s immortal, honey.”
I’d always known something would happen. My abilities would manifest somehow. I had always known that in theory I’d need to drink blood, and that I’d live for a long time. But I’d never had anything to make that seem real. Now, suddenly, it was all hitting me at once. And what on earth was a Draugr? Or should I say what in hell was a Draugr. I didn’t want this.
“I know this is a lot to take in, Rel, but there are benefits too. I know that you’ll be strong and healthy. As a dad, I couldn’t ask for more. This gift is exactly what you make of it. A lot of supernaturals, when they come into their abilities, see them as a curse. It’s anything–”
“Will I have to kill people?” The question I had to ask.
He stopped talking. He stroked my hair. “I can’t answer that.”’
I felt more tears welling up. “Is that because you don’t want to admit your daughter is a killer?”
I couldn’t kill someone. This wasn’t a movie, with fake blood, and no consequences. This would be real. This would ruin entire families. And what if starving myself meant that I would then go on a rampage. I’d have to choose to kill. The conscious decision to kill someone, to end someone’s existence, would be horrible. But if I had to choose between that and a murderous rampage… I don’t know if I could do it. At least with the rampage it would be a blind hunger. Maybe I wouldn’t even remember it when it happened. I started to panic.
“No!”’ he said with force, breaking me from my thoughts. “This is a problem we have all been through. The possibility of killing humans was just as much of an issue for me when I was your age. I was terrified that I’d draw too much energy. So, no. You are my daughter, and I know that I survived, and so you will survive this too. It’s not even a question.”
“Then why won’t you say?” I wailed.
“It’s not that I won’t. It’s that I can’t. There are very few true vampires in this world. And only a handful are active. So, in all honesty, most of my answers to your questions, to the challenges that you’re going to face, would be a guess.”
“What about my parents? My birth parents, I mean?’”
“We never met them. Your mother and I chose to adopt from the SCIM orphanage.”
“Wait. Do you even know how I was born? Vampires always seem to just…” the thought sickened me for a moment, “convert humans.”
“Vampires do, yes. But Draugr, are living. They give birth just like humans.”
I wanted to ask, so why didn’t my parents keep me, but something else popped into my head. “In what way are Draugr connected to regular vampires then? We seem to be completely different.”
“I’m not positive on the specifics, but, regular vampires are created by Draugr.” He stopped me before I could ask. “I don’t know how. I don’t know the process, or what is really going on. But, I know someone who does.” He stopped my next question too. “No, they’re not another Draugr. I’ve never met any of them. But back before me and your mom adopted you, we were… well traveled. We met some very knowledgeable people. We can ask them to pay a visit. They’ll be able to help.”
I nodded. I had so many questions. The only real one was, “But what about my hunger?”
My dad got to his feet, pulling me up with him. “I suggest breakfast. Well, at this time of day it’s lunch. Tell you what, we’ll make it huge. A lunch so big, it would satisfy the hunger of any vampire, okay?”
I nodded, and after a few gentle pushes in the right direction, I left my room, and headed for the kitchen. My mom was already whipping something up.
Seeing us enter, she asked if they needed to have a polite, but lethal, talk with Richard. My dad shook his head, and told her who they needed to contact. Mrs. Raich, from Europe.
My mom sighed, dropped her eyes, and focused on cooking.
Chapter 8
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br /> Reliquiae
Rick had come round to return my bag.
I couldn’t bear the idea of seeing him again. I didn’t know what he thought, but either I’d see a look of disgust on his face at the sight of me, or I’d feel my hunger rising again. I didn’t know which would be worse, but I couldn’t stand either. I made my mom tell him I was out at the mall with Peter and Bhav, and I hid in my room. Such a wimp! She said he’d looked disappointed, but even that didn’t make me feel any better.
Having him turn up had made me realize that, yes, I could talk about it all day with my parents, but this was real. It was down to me to control whatever it was I was becoming.
I couldn’t wait until next Thursday when everyone went to the bunker again. I’d have to spend the entire week at school around humans. I needed to sort this out now.
I told Mom I was going out for a walk to think things over, and although she’d looked worried, she just told me to be sure to stay in the supernatural neighborhood - yeah, right, as if I’d deliberately go near humans right now. I walked over to the bunker as fast as I could. I couldn’t trust myself around anyone, even other supernaturals. I hadn’t felt any hunger to feed on my parents, but maybe they were special, and the familial bond stopped my instincts. I’d told Ariel I was sick - the first time ever, so whether or not she believed me, who knew. And this old place was only ever used on Thursday nights when us kids invaded it.
Now, it was all mine. Somewhere I could go to practice… whatever it was I could do. Somewhere no one would disturb me. It really was in the middle of nowhere, several hundred yards into the forest. I’d never appreciated just how quiet and isolated the bunker was before, as it was always filled with teenage supernaturals, throwing each other around, bouncing off the walls - literally - and climbing the ceiling. Let’s not even mention what was happening in the rooms with doors. Succubi and incubi in one, sirens in another, elves prancing around in the other. And those were only the ones with enough of their species to make it worthwhile having their own room.