by A. P. Fuchs
You’re the greatest, Rose. You’ve changed my life and given me a reason for living.
I just love you so, so, so much that I want to tell you again and again.
I love you!
I love you!
I love you!
Rose, my dearest Rose, I love you.
Yours forever and always,
Zach
Ps. I love you! (Sorry, had to say it again.)
Rose set the pages down and let the tears fall. “I love you, too, Zach, forever and always.”
8
“You didn’t call her, did you?” Marcus said as he went to drop Shelly off downtown. His wife wore a long overcoat, concealing her armor and weapons.
“I thought you did?”
“No, I thought you did.” So much for being an expert at secrecy.
“Great. Now she’s probably wondering what’s going on.”
“Probably just assuming we have a late-night showing or something. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“I hate all this hiding!”
“I know. Me, too, but right now it has to be done. You’ve said as much before yourself.”
She glanced over at him. “Like the saying goes: ‘Easier said than done.’”
“No kidding.” He drove Shelly up to the far side of the Exchange District, where it ran along the river. Aside from the light from the condos lining the street across the way, the river side was dark, the trees dividing the road from the river even darker. It was a perfect place to begin their hunt. “Use the cell phone if you need anything.”
“Likewise you.”
“You ready?”
“Always am. Besides, seems around here is a favorite spot for the bloodsuckers.”
She was right. The trees lining the river were thick and dark enough that they made a perfect place for someone without a home to spend the night. It was safe there, away from the sidewalks and streets, and if you built your shelter on the river side, it was too dangerous for anyone to come calling.
Unless that person had nothing to fear. Unless they were a vampire.
He pulled the vehicle up to the curb. Shelly leaned in and gave him a kiss. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
She exited the vehicle and, as was their rule, didn’t look back as he pulled away, one small thing they did to change modes and get to work.
Marcus hoped she would be safe tonight.
♦ ♦ ♦
The phone rang and Rose answered, wiping away the tears.
“Hey, it’s Parker. Told you I’d call.”
“As if you wouldn’t,” she said, replacing the lid on the Heart Box.
“You coming out tonight?”
She really didn’t feel like it. Not that she was tired or anything, but even the simple act of going out with friends had lost its luster recently. She looked at the box and could envision Zach’s letter lying within. Reading it soothed her aching heart, but once she was done, the sharp pain inside her chest ignited anew.
“I’m not sure,” she said. “Was thinking of staying in.”
“I know. You told me as much earlier. But I really think it’d do you some good.”
Do me some— “Really?”
“What, you don’t think I know you’re down in the dumps? Zach was a cool guy and I’m just as concerned as you are as to what happened to him.”
As if he could be. Parker had no idea. “Yeah, well, it just hasn’t been easy with him being gone and all.”
“I know. I’m not trying to make you forget about him or anything.” His voice went soft, gentle. “Just want to see you smile again. Sometimes you just need to get out of the house, you know? Sitting there moping might seem like a good idea, but coming out, getting some air and just talking crap with folks—even just with me—might be what the doctor ordered.”
“Okay, doc,” she said, a little bit of snark to her tone.
“Come on, it’ll be fun.”
She thought about it for a moment: it was either sit alone in the house until whenever her folks got home, or take a chance and maybe mute the pain for a few hours. “Tell you what . . . I’ll come out, but if at any time I want to go, you’ll stand by me on that, okay?”
“I’ll stick by you no matter what.” And he meant it. His tone said it all. If Parker was anything, he was loyal.
“Okay.”
“I’ll come get you in twenty minutes or so.”
“You got your license back?”
“Yeah. The old man saw fit to give me another chance.”
“Did he fix the car?”
“Not yet, but he’s still letting me drive it.”
She knew how pissed his dad had been when Parker came home with a busted taillight. “As long as you don’t smash it up with me in it, I’ll even let you open the door for me.”
“Deal. See you in a bit.”
“Later.”
“Ta ta,” he sang.
Smiling, she hung up the phone. She headed to her closet. She needed something to wear. Preferably black to signify her somber mood.
♦ ♦ ♦
Marcus got home a little after nine. After dropping Shelly off, he had to swing by the post office, get some gas and a jug of milk from the store. He took his shoes off, went to the kitchen and flicked the light on. There was a note on the kitchen table.
Out with Parker and some friends. Won’t be out late. Just needed some air.
Rose
“Better not be late,” he said. “Tonight’s a school night.”
No sooner than he put the jug of milk in the fridge did his cell phone ring.
“Hello?” he said.
“It’s me,” Shelly said, panting. “The river’s a hotspot. Already dispatched two bloodsuckers, but I have another two on my tail. Who knows how many more are afoot. Need you out here now.”
“On my way.” He darted out of the kitchen, put his shoes on, then doubled back. He scribbled a note under Rose’s telling her he had to check something at the office. “She’s going to hate me for this.” He dropped the pen, ran to the door, locked up, then jumped in the SUV.
As he tore off down the street to meet his wife, he ran mental inventory on the hidden arsenal in a compartment in the trunk. It held a collapsible stab-proof vest, two silver, foot-long blades, three spikes and one garlic steam grenade. It was meant for emergencies only, and judging by the urgency in his wife’s voice, this sure sounded like one.
9
Zach sat in the corner of the crypt alone, while the others sat on his mother’s coffin in the middle of the room, talking quietly amongst themselves. He had thought about running, but instead chose to stay put here in the crypt. As unsettling as all this was, something deep within kept him here and it wasn’t anything his mother forced upon him. The more time passed, the more the air of familiarity about these people grew. He had known them before, but, he felt, it had been a long time ago. Years, even. From where or when he knew them, he didn’t know, and something else inside said he had known others between when he first knew this strange family until he met them now.
She had called me a vampire, he thought. He had checked for fangs already, but there were none. He also noticed the others didn’t have them either. Rain had told him the fangs were for feeding only and ran more on instinct than anything else.
Vampire. Though he’d already mulled the word over a million times, it still seemed unbelievable, but at the same time, wholly possible, even plausible.
The way he felt, the energy swelling within, the paleness of his skin, this strange thirst which he was told would not be quenched by water—it made sense. Not to mention the spontaneous combustion in direct sunlight. In his head, he had already accepted the truth, but in his heart, the place where real decisions and beliefs were made, it still refused to side with this bizarre family.
“I know you’re doubting,” Mira said, suddenly sitting next to him.
Zach knew he should have been startled, but he wasn’t.
; “I can make you believe, but you need to trust me,” she said.
“How?”
“Ooh, can I take him?” Cassie said, suddenly at his side as well. “You took Wil, Mom. Let me take Zach.”
“Take me where?”
Mira simply smiled. “Up.”
Cassie pulled Zach to his feet by the hands. Her strength was incredible. With a huge grin she said, “You’re going to love this.”
She led him by the hand and the two made their way up the crypt’s stone steps to the door leading to the mausoleum proper. Once through, Zach glanced at the stacked coffins and wondered if these folks were vampires, too. Once out in the graveyard, he was surprised at how clearly he saw in the dark. Each tombstone was bright gray, the shadows stretching out across the grass as black as pitch. The bark of the trees dotting the rows of the dead was as crisp and clear as if he was looking at them in broad daylight.
“Ready?” Cassie said, obviously eager for something.
He furrowed his brow. “Ready for what?”
She giggled.
Suddenly, Wil burst through the mausoleum’s door, his face beaming as well. “I don’t want to miss this.”
Soon Mira and Rain were standing outside the door with him. “Neither do we,” Rain said. “A vampire’s first flight is a special occasion.”
First flight? Zach thought.
“Yes, first flight,” Cassie said. She gave him a wink. “We can read minds, too, remember?”
Zach looked to Wil. Wil said, “It’s true. You will, too. Took me awhile but it eventually came.” After a pause. “Kind of annoying in crowded places, though. Still learning how to turn it off and on.”
Zach bit his lip, half-expecting to bite through the flesh, but then remembered that right now there were no fangs in his mouth.
“Don’t listen to him,” Cassie said. “You ready?”
“I don’t even know what to say right now,” Zach said.
“Just say yes.”
“Okay, um, yes?”
“Now click your heels and say, ‘There’s no place like the sky. There’s no place like the sky.’”
“What?”
“Cassie!” Mira’s voice was like ice. To Zach, “Pay her no mind, my son. She’s just excited.”
“I see.”
Cassie took his hand in hers. “Sorry. It’s really not that hard. You just need to understand that you can do this. That’s the key. You. Can. Do. This. Now, close your eyes.”
He did. “Now what?”
No answer.
“Cassie?” Zach opened his eyes. He was in the sky, the earth below hidden by clouds beneath his feet.
Screaming, he flailed his arms, toppled backward in the air and began to fall. Wind rushed by him. Everything went gray-white as he fell through the clouds, then suddenly he watched as those same clouds grew further and further away as he tumbled toward the earth.
“Close your eyes,” a female voice shouted from next to him. Cassie floated over him, somehow keeping herself in the air just above him even as he fell. “You need to relax.”
Zach could only scream.
“Zach! Do you want to die?”
His eyes went wide.
“Shut ’em!”
He squeezed his eyes shut, expecting at any moment for the sudden impact of hitting the ground.
The wind stopped whistling by his ears. The ground never came.
“Open your eyes,” Cassie said.
He did. He was on his back, hovering some fifty feet or so above the earth, the cemetery tombstones like gray pebbles below him. “How?”
“It’s instinct . . . but you need to relax. Closing your eyes helps. Fools your brain into removing yourself from what’s really going on by removing sight. You still know you’re falling, but with that momentary calmness in the mind, it allows your survival instinct to take over and stop your descent.”
He absorbed the moment. Hovering there, it was like floating in water. There was substance beneath him, but nothing nearly as solid as the ground. It was a cushion of air. It was freedom.
“How—” He started and leaned forward. His body did ninety degrees and he went upright. “How did I get so high so fast?”
Cassie floated close beside him. The two hung there in the air like ornaments on a tree. “Mom telekinetically gave you a boost a few feet up. Your body recognized what was going on and so your own flight ability kicked in. How you got up here so fast? Speed. Pure speed—which is pretty awesome, I might add. One of my favorite parts since rebirth.”
“Speed? Like superfast motion?”
“Kind of. More like a combination of actual speed and teleportation. From what I’ve seen from the others and from what I can do myself, you basically start at one point, superspeed to a point a few feet from where you started, then suddenly teleport to where you want to be. Then, when you appear there, you superspeed a few more feet before stopping. It’s really quite a thrill and I can’t wait until you try it for yourself.”
“My heart should be racing,” he said. As cool as floating here above the cemetery was, the expected exhilaration he wanted to feel wasn’t there. He put a hand to his chest. “No heartbeat.”
“Why would there be?” Cassie said. “You’re dead . . . well . . . undead.”
10
Marcus sped to the spot along the river where he dropped his wife off a couple hours before. He turned the vehicle off, got out, ran around to the back and threw open the trunk. He unlocked the secret compartment beneath the trunk floor and immediately armed himself in the stab-proof vest, slid silver-plated swords into the sheaths, strapped a knife and the stakes to his leg, and put the garlic steam grenade in his pocket. After slamming the trunk down, he ran into the woods, pulling his cell phone out. He speed-dialed Shelly.
“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” he said.
She did. “You here?”
“Where are you?”
“Same side of the river you dropped me off, heading north.” A growl came over the line somewhere in the distance. “Keep your ears open. These guys are good.”
“Roger. I’m coming, sweetie. Stay alive.”
Marcus picked up his speed and headed into the thick of the trees, weaving around tree trunks, hopping over bushes, ducking low behind others; he thought he heard something.
The wind rustled the leaves, and he thought he picked up movement up ahead. He stopped and quickly scanned the darkness. The sound ceased, so he kept his ears open and waited a moment. When he heard nothing else, he continued on his path through the trees. Something hard caught his foot and he went tumbling face first to the ground. Immediately upon impact, he rolled over and got to his feet.
Someone stood before him: short-cropped brown hair, pale skin, black-lined eyes. The young man wore a tight black T-shirt and black jeans. The man’s long fingernails confirmed what he was.
“I ask you, mate,” the young man said, his voice smooth, British. “Why do you hunt in the night?”
Don’t answer. Don’t give him an inch. It’s just a distraction, Marcus thought. It was a common tool among vampires. The one in front of him was speaking while most likely others lurked somewhere in the shadows around him. Marcus wasn’t worried about holding his own. He had a black belt in Aikido, was a second degree in Ninjitsu, and years of fighting with swords and knives trained him to be a formidable foe with weaponry.
“I see,” the young man said. “You’re here for the female. She’s dead!”
Liar. Marcus withdrew both swords and held them aloft in each hand.
The young man wiggled his fingers. “Ooohh, scary.” He took a step closer. “So, which number are you? Forty-seven? Thirty-nine? One hundred and eighteen? Doesn’t matter. Your kind are no match for us.”
Marcus was Slayer Twenty-one. Shelly was Thirty-two. It was how those higher in the Order kept track of who was on the field and who had died in service. If a slayer’s life was claimed, their number was crossed out, never to be replaced. The only time the numbe
rs reset themselves was when a new generation of slayers replaced the old. Thousands came before him throughout the centuries.
“I don’t have time for this,” Marcus said and advanced toward the young man.
Immediately, the man’s fists shot out in front of him and his feet left the ground. He flew straight at Marcus. The moment the man moved, Marcus stepped to the side and brought his sword down as the man flew past. The young man’s body dropped to the ground, his head rolling along the forest floor a few feet away. A quick plunge of the sword to the young vampire’s heart and the undead creature was finished.
Three more vampires appeared in a semi-circle around him, materializing from the shadows. They were all female, blonde, and beautiful. Each wore a different colored long coat: cherry red, royal blue and snow white.
They hissed and raised their razor-sharp fingernails, ready to maul him like a pack of wild tigers. Quickly, their gorgeous faces went stark white, their features distorting as bone and muscle relocated themselves beneath their skin. The women’s brows protruded from their faces as their eyes sunk into their sockets. Their open mouths grew long and their teeth grew as well, giving birth to sharp fangs. Low, guttural growls escaped their lips.
“Come and get it,” Marcus said, then realized how corny that sounded.
The girls darted toward him, displacing their bodies from the physical then quickly appearing next to him. The girl in red reached for his neck. In a blur of silver, he removed her arm, turned, and slammed the second blade home into her stomach. With a quick yank upward, he cleaved her in two, straight up her torso, through her neck and head. Marcus withdrew the sword and stuck it deep into the left half of the woman’s body, ensuring the heart had been penetrated. He knew he hit his mark when the torso halves erupted into a spray of flesh before disintegrating in the air as fine ash on the wind.