E.V.I.E.: 13 Slayers, 13 Missions

by Lexi C. Foss

  She headed back upstairs, and had just set foot on the third floor landing when she heard a commotion coming from the front bedroom on the left. The bedroom no one was ever supposed to be in, the bedroom that Adrienne had given birth in, the bedroom that hadn’t been accessed since Solange had moved out to live on her own.

  Marceline focused on that bedroom, and without further hesitation headed straight for it. Before she could make it to the door, the door flew open and Solange, covered in blood came rushing out.

  Surprised to see Marceline standing there, she faltered only for a moment. “Grandmama, I need you!”

  “I’m here, Solange. Tell me,” Marceline said, grasping Solange’s shoulders despite her clothes being covered in blood.

  “I killed Alastair!” Solange rushed out, elation clear in her voice and on her face.

  Marceline embraced Solange, “I never doubted you would. I’m so proud of you, Solange. So proud.”

  “And I made a vampire,” Solange confessed worriedly.

  “You did what?” Marceline asked.

  “I made a vampire. And I still need to call Gillian for clean up. It’s just blocks from here!” Solange exclaimed, her adrenalin still pumping.

  “What about you creating a vampire, Solange?” Marceline asked, trying to ground Solange in the moment.

  “Alastair turned a man. Crispy. And when I killed Alastair, Crispy started dying. I couldn’t let him die, Grandmama. He’s a good man!”

  A moan sounded from the bedroom drawing Marceline’s attention. She looked in that direction before looking back at Solange.

  “He was a vampire before, but then he was dying, so I just fed him my blood.”

  “After you drained him,” Marceline supplied.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” Marceline asked.

  “Why what?” Solange asked, confused.

  “Why did you have to save him?” Marceline asked.

  Solange didn’t answer at first; her eyes were cast down at the floor. She was clearly struggling with her emotions.

  “Solange?” Marceline prompted.

  “Because he’s mine,” Solange finally confessed, still looking at the floor. “Or he would be if I weren't such a curse to everyone I come in contact with.”

  “Solange…” Marceline started.

  “He’s in there. I put him in the room I was born in because the windows are darkened and I don’t know if the sunlight will kill him or not. Since I made him, you know? And I just don’t know what else to do. I don’t know!” Solange said, her voice rising in alarm.

  “Calm, Solange. Come along, child. Let’s see what he needs,” Marceline said, taking Solange by the hand and leading her back into the the bedroom.

  Marceline didn’t hesitate, she went straight to Crispin lying on the floor. “Are you sure he’s safe, Solange?” Marceline asked.

  “Very sure. He’s a good person. Much better than I am.”

  Marceline shot Solange a look that said ‘we’ll talk about that comment later’, then knelt down to check on the man that Solange thought so highly of that she couldn’t allow him to die.

  After several moments, Marceline looked up at Solange. “He’s alive. His heartbeat is steady. I believe he will survive. I’m not familiar with any of this Solange, but, I believe that he will survive.” When Solange didn’t answer and just kept looking worriedly down at the man, Marceline spoke again. “Solange?”

  “Hmm?” Solange said, looking from Crispin over to Marceline.

  “Call Pauline. Let’s get him into bed and cleaned up a little bit. We’ll watch over him and make sure he’s not in danger. Alright?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Solange answered, getting to her feet and running halfway down the staircase screaming for Pauline. “Paaaauuuliiiiiinne!”

  “Solange?” Pauline answered, calling up the staircase. “Is that you?”

  “Yes! Can you come help us, please?”

  “On my way up,” Pauline said as she climbed the stairs.

  Crispin woke to soft murmurs around him. He was vaguely aware of what had happened to him. He remembered figuring out that Solange was a witch, then later finding out she was a vampire. He remembered being relieved that she’d killed Alastair, instead of the other way around. And he remembered the feeling of dying. But most prevalent in his mind was Solange leaning over him, begging him not to die as she fed him from her own veins.

  She’d saved him. She’d allowed him to die to be free of Alastair, then she’d drained him, fed him, and claimed him herself, in effect becoming his maker. He felt more at peace than he had since he’d awakened and found himself turned by Alastair just to see what would become of him. He focused on the murmuring again, and realized that one of the voices was Solange’s.

  “You are not a curse. You never have been. You have always been nothing but a blessing on this house, child. If you truly believe you are a curse, then I have been remiss in my duties of raising you,” Marceline said, holding Solange’s hand in her own while leaning toward her and looking sincerely into her eyes. “Speak to me, Solange. Explain yourself to me.”

  “I can’t,” Solange said softly.

  “You can,” Marceline insisted. “You are the strongest person I’ve ever met. Stronger than me, even. You can travel the world eliminating vampires, you can most certainly explain yourself to me.”

  Solange almost shouted the words she’d held inside all of her life. “I was cursed when I was conceived. My father created me to curse our family forever. I was cursed when I was born and caused my mother to take her own life. I’ve been nothing but a blemish and an embarrassment to you and this coven since before I was born. How can I even consider anything other?” Solange cried, the pain in her voice clear to any to hear.

  “Oh, Solange. No, child. You’ve got it all wrong.”

  “You trained me to be a slayer from the day I was old enough to understand the physical training. You taught me to kill, to maim, to stalk! You taught me to hold myself in check, to never allow anyone to see who I was, truly was. You even spelled the cross I wear to keep my eyes and fangs hidden so that no one will ever know my true nature. How could I ever believe I was anything other than a curse?” Solange shouted.

  In that moment Marceline realized the mistake she’d made over and over again. She shook her head. “I trained you to fight because I believed that one day your father would come for you, and I didn’t want to lose you to him. I trained you to stalk so that if he ever found you, you’d be able to turn the tables and become the victor. I taught you to hold yourself in check and not to ever allow anyone to see who you truly are because you are the heir to the LaCelle Coven and all its powers. People will use you for anything they can. They all have ulterior motives, and you needed to be aloof enough to see anyone for exactly who they are so they can’t take advantage of you. I spelled the cross to keep your true physical traits hidden because of the very organization you work for now. I’ve been aware of E.V.I.E. for most of my life. We’ve coexisted by keeping our distance and keeping a mutual respect. But I’ll be damned if I allow my most precious girl to be a victim of theirs. I had to keep you hidden to keep you safe. What better place to hide you away than within their own organization?”

  Solange was crying, tears streaming down her face by the time Marceline finished.

  “Do you understand, child?” Marceline asked, tears tracking from her eyes as well.

  Solange nodded and threw herself into her Grandmama’s arms.

  Crispin lay there, watching Solange hugging her Grandmama with a smile on his face. Her behavior was completely understandable. Alastair had been her father and she’d always felt cursed. She was anything but cursed. She was his blessing. In destroying her father, she’d avenged her mother, removed Alastair’s savagery from the world, and saved Crispin. The only thing he saw in Solange was a blessing.

  Marceline held Solange and let her cry it out. Eventually, she noticed that Crispin watched them. She nudged Solange. “Your
male is awake.”

  Solange pulled away from Marceline and turned to Crispin. “Crispy!” she cried, laughing through her tears. “You’re awake! How are you? What can I do for you? I’ve never done this before!”

  “I’m fine. It just takes a little time for the system to acclimate. Then all will be well,” Crispin answered, smiling up at her as she smoothed her hands down his face.

  “I was so worried,” Solange admitted.

  “I’m fine now, I promise. Better than I’ve ever been. Happier than I’ve ever been,” Crispin said.

  “You are lying in bed recovering from being killed — technically — then turned into a new vampire by a completely inexperienced vampire-witch,” Solange said, trying to make it sound as outrageous as possible.

  “I’m happy because I clearly remember that vampire-witch accepting my claim right after she changed me. I belong to you. And you agreed that you’re mine. That’s all I need,” Crispin said, cupping his hand around one of hers as it caressed his jaw.

  “I’m going to leave you two alone to get reacquainted. I’ll send up some food and drink. Call me if you need me, Solange.”

  “Thank you, Grandmama.”

  “You are most welcome, my sweet Solange,” Marceline said lovingly. Then she met Crispin’s eyes. “And so are you, Crispy.” Marceline winked at Crispin and pulled the door closed behind her.

  Two days later Solange, Crispin, and Mr. Scruffikins, who Solange had popped in briefly to pick up from her condo, were relaxing in the backyard.

  Crispin accepted the ball from Mr. Scruffikins and tossed it out past the large tree. He paused to look up at the bright sunshine filtering through the trees. “I still cannot believe I’m standing in the sun. This is amazing, Solange.”

  “I guess I never thought too much about it because I’ve always been able to go out in the sunlight.”

  He looked down at his new running shoes. “You’ve given me so many gifts, Solange. But of all of them, even more so than the ability to move about in the sunlight, you are my most treasured gift. You’ve saved me, Solange.”

  “I love you,” she whispered, looking up into his eyes.

  “I love you,” he answered, pressing his lips to hers and laughing when Mr. Scruffikins snarled and grabbed ahold of his blue jeans right near his ankle. The dog still didn’t like it when anyone was too close to Solange. “Will you stop?!” Crispin laughed, shaking the dog off.

  The bell at the front door could be heard ringing from inside the house. A few moments later Pauline rushed out into the back yard. “Solange! Marceline says to go up the back stairs, now! Hurry up, you and Crispin need to hide now. Gillian is at the door.”

  Solange turned white and grabbed Crispin by the hand. “Come on! Hurry up, you have to stay hidden!”

  “Why? Who is Gillian?” Crispin asked.

  “My handler. My boss at E.V.I.E. Come on, we have to hide you upstairs,” Solange said, pulling him by the hand toward the kitchen where the hidden stairway was tucked behind the pantry.

  Solange and Crispin wasted no time getting upstairs to their third floor bedroom. Solange searched through her jewelry box for the replacement black onyx pendant Marceline had made her that would hide her red eyes and fangs from anyone who looked at her. She fastened it around her neck and turned around to face Crispin. “How’s this?” she asked.

  “Amazing. Your eyes are blue again,” he answered, taking her in his arms and kissing her soundly.

  “I still miss my cross. I wish I’d been able to find it.”

  “It’s likely lost in all the junk in that basement you and Alastair fought in.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed, wishing she’d had the presence of mind to search for it before leaving the basement, but she’d been too worried about Crispin to even think about it.

  A knock sounded on their door. “Solange, Gillian is in the front sitting room. She’s insistent that she speak with you,” Marceline said.

  “Damn!” Solange whispered to Crispin.

  “No cursing in this house, young lady. Slayer or not, you are still a LaCelle!” Marceline snapped.

  Solange grinned, shaking her head. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be right down.”

  Solange came down the grand staircase, giving the appearance of being completely relaxed and at ease. “Gillian! How are you?” Solange said as she stepped off the final stair and walked toward the front sitting room where they greeted all visitors.

  “I’m doing very, very well, Solange. I’m sorry for the unexpected visit, but after the clean up and interviewing the surviving girl, there were so many loose ends to tie up that it was overwhelming.”

  “I can imagine,” Solange said.

  “I kept waiting for you to check in after your initial call for clean up. Kept expecting to see you walk through that door, but you never did. So I decided to come by here today.”

  “It’s not a problem. I’m happy to see you,” Solange said distractedly, her mind wandering with all the possibilities of things the rescued girl might have told E.V.I.E. while being interrogated.

  “Can we sit?” Gillian asked.

  “Yeah, of course,” Solange answered, ushering Gillian toward the small love seat against the window.

  “Look, I know that this is what you planned on your whole life, and I know the image you wear for the world is kick ass, bad ass, you can’t influence me and I’d kill you if you could, but that’s not who Solange is. Not the Solange I consider my friend. Not the Solange who has hidden herself away here since the day she killed the man who was partially responsible for giving her life.”

  Solange looked down at her hands folded in her lap. “I just needed a little downtime,” she confided.

  “Take all the time you need. But know this. I am your friend. Yes, I work for E.V.I.E., and technically, when you’re on assignment, I’m your handler. But I’m your friend first and foremost.”

  Solange looked up at Gillian, and saw the sincerity in Gillian’s eyes. “I’ve never had a real friend before.”

  “You do now, and you have had since you walked into my office wanting intel on Alastair.”

  “Thank you, Gillian. I’m your friend, too. I’d kill for you,” Solange said, meaning it from the depths of her heart.

  Gillian grinned, knowing that coming from Solange that was a very, very heartfelt pledge.

  They sat quietly for a few moments until finally Solange had to ask. “So, the girl, who interrogated her?”

  “I did. After I heard the claims she was making I jumped in and insisted that I get to interrogate her and reintegrate her into society since it all happened in my city.”

  Solange nodded. “And was she able to give you any information?”

  “Nothing that made sense.”

  “Really?” Solange said, perking up.

  “Really. She kept rambling on and on about a pretty girl with dark hair and blue eyes that she saw through the air grate. She swore the girl tore off her necklace and then had red eyes. She said the girl kept calling the evil vampire Daddy. Then after the girl killed the evil vampire, she attacked a man with blonde hair and was drinking his blood when the girl tried to escape. She said a sheet was thrown over her head, and she couldn’t see anything anymore, but she heard the girl crying and begging someone named Crispin not to die.”

  “Wow! That’s quite a story,” Solange said nervously.

  “It is. Especially since we’ve tracked a male named Crispin for some time. It was our belief that Alastair created him, and we were very concerned that he would turn out to be just like Alastair.”

  Solange didn’t say anything. She just met Gillian’s eyes and waited for the inevitable.

  But the inevitable didn’t come. Instead, Gillian reached into her pocket and withdrew something. “I was there when the cleaning was done. I knew you’d killed the right vampire, but… regulations, I had to put eyes on him or his ashes.” Gillian held out her hand and allowed Solange’s cross to dangle from her fingers. “I saw your cross
on the floor and picked it up for you. I never, ever saw you without it on. The clasp was broken, I had it fixed for you.”

  Solange held her hand out and Gillian placed the cross on her palm.

  “Your father was Alastair. Your mother was Adrienne LaCelle. I have no doubt you have inherited talents from both of them. Traits, too. So maybe the outlandish story the rescued girl told isn’t so outlandish.”

  Solange just looked at Gillian, not saying a single word.

  “I’m not sure you understand this, Solange. Not all ‘others’ are bad,” Gillian said, with a slight smile on her face. “I’ve explained to the girl that if she tells anyone at all what she thinks she saw, the vampires will come for her and her family. The only thing keeping her safe is her silence. We won’t be able to protect her. She fully understands.”

  Solange swallowed. “And if she’s not silent?”

  “We have ways of making sure our operatives are safe and uncompromised,” Gillian responded.

  “I’m still an E.V.I.E. operative?” Solange asked hopefully.

  “I hope so,” Gillian answered.

  “And if Crispin is ever found?” Solange asked.

  “Funny thing, that. I tried to look him up in the mainframe this morning before coming over here. His name popped up and the little bit of history we had on him. Then all of a sudden, it just disappeared, as though it never existed. I might have hit a wrong button or something, I’m not sure. But any reference to him just went up in smoke.”

  Solange smiled, and Gillian matched that smile.

  Solange handed the cross to Gillian and reached behind her neck, releasing the clasp on the pendant she wore. She took it off and held it in her hand, hesitating a moment longer before looking up at Gillian with her red eyes very clearly on display. She smiled at Gillian and her fangs were easily seen.