by Bell, A. C.
As they passed, Lorraine gave me another hug. “Remember, I’m okay,” she assured me.
“I know.” I put a smile on my face as we pulled apart. The pair meandered slowly from the room. I watched them go until Raiden’s fingers grazed my arm.
“You should finish your breakfast,” he suggested.
I offered a warm grin and returned to my seat. He leveled inquisitive eyes on me and turned in his chair to face me, setting his arm on the back.
“How have you been?” he reiterated Lorraine’s question. “I know faked smiles when I see them. Maybe you feel like pretending not to be sad will keep people from noticing, but I’m worried it’ll eat away at you if you keep it all to yourself.”
“Why do you assume that’s the reason I do it? It’s not that I’m pretending so people won’t notice. It’s just, over the years I’ve learned to smile when I’m sad, you know? So the sadness doesn’t feel quite so…sad.” I glanced over at him and his lips pinched a little in thought, watching me in a way that made me look away. We finished our breakfast more or less in silence.
Ghosts
I swiped my finger up the screen of my tablet to scroll down the web browser. There were a few promising job options in the area, which I kept open in separate tabs. The current one was a burger place on Main Street. I groaned at the prospect of working in fast food again but kept the tab open. Suddenly, my phone started to chime. It was Alexandra, proprietor of the Amaranthine Bookstore. I hadn’t been back in a while, ever since Ian had shattered the windows while Raiden and I had been inside.
“Hello?” I questioned upon answering the call.
“Good morning, Adeline! My store has become more popular since Channel 4 did that story after the attack and I find myself in need of another employee. I felt I should give you a call. Do you have any idea why that might be?” She also happened to be a seer, who had a knack for intuitive leaps and the occasional rare vision.
My mouth fell open. “Well, as of last night, I'm on the market for a job. I thought you couldn’t sense things about dhampirs?”
“Seers cannot have visions about you, but we can get vague impressions about a dhampir’s present situation if we have a personal connection. I was going through my list of customers who check out books from downstairs to look for a prospective employee and got an inkling when I stopped at your name. So, you’re in need of work.”
Downstairs in the basement where she kept her secret supernatural library. The fiction-lover in me loved the secrecy of it, like finding a hidden passage in a castle or a concealed room behind a bookcase in some old mansion. Giddiness rose in my chest. “Yes, I am.”
“I’m inclined to take you on, but there will be rules.”
“Of course.”
“First, no reading on the job. Secondly, when you work downstairs, make sure everything is returned to its exact spot. I have a system. You’ll probably want to make a list of some sort. And thirdly, under no circumstances are you permitted to grant anyone access to the basement. Everyone has to go through me. When can you start?”
“As soon as possible.”
“Tomorrow then. Seven-thirty. I will make certain that all the books are in the proper order before I open.”
And so, the next morning I arrived promptly at 7:25, bushy-tailed and bright-eyed with my tablet to make my list. I didn’t even care about the ungodly hour as I normally would have. The windows of the Amaranthine Bookstore were shiny and new, perfectly repaired after Ian’s attack. Elatedly, I ignored the closed sign and let myself in. The bell above the door jingled loudly in greeting and the smell of paper and ink warmed my soul.
“Ah, good,” Alexandra grinned at my entrance. I practically scampered up the center aisle.
“I made your login so you can get paid. Probably useful, right? Payday is this Thursday and every two weeks after that.” She handed me a business card with my username and password scribbled on the back. There was also a key taped to it. “It goes to the elevator, that way I don’t have to let you down all the time.”
“Cool,” I said with a grin.
She waited for me to clock in inside the little office behind the counter. “The books are ready for you to make your list. Do you need paper?”
I brandished my tablet. “All set. This way, I can make changes when necessary.”
She grinned. “You kids are all so forward thinking with your little devices. Sometimes I do trade books with other collectors, so being able to change it is a good idea. There’s also room at the bottom of each case for when I get more inventory. If a case does happen to get full, let me know and I’ll pick books to put in storage or decide what to shift.”
I nodded. “Right. I’ll get started, then.”
“Alright.”
Alexandra grinned at my enthusiasm, though I didn’t sprint for the elevator until I was out of sight behind the bookshelves. Downstairs, I flicked the light switch and the spacious-yet-crowded room was illuminated. Dust drifted through the air. Perhaps air purifiers would be a good investment for her. I started my list going down the alphabetical bookcases. Alexandra had left note cards in the empty spaces where books had been checked out with the title written on the card. For the books in other languages that I couldn’t replicate on my tablet, I was able to scribble it in with the stylus, careful to copy each character exactly in case there was another book with a similar title. I played music from my phone to fill the silence.
A few hours in and halfway through her inventory, Slade called. I ignored it at first, resigned to call back on my break, but when he called again, I paused my music.
“Hi, Slade,” I answered distractedly.
“You’re looking at books, aren’t you? You do a voice when you look at books.”
“I do not do a voice,” I scolded him. “Why does everyone say that?”
His deep hearty laugh reverberated through the phone. “If it’s not a book, then what is that voice?”
“I’m at work. Alexandra hired me at her store.”
“So it is books!” he declared victoriously.
I sighed and hung my head back. “What do you want?”
“When will you be done?” He sounded odd. Something was on his mind.
“I’m only part-time, so I’ll be done at 2:00. What’s wrong?”
“I want to go visit Worg. Maybe he can tell us what attacked you. I thought you would want to come.”
“Absolutely.”
***
I climbed from Slade’s shiny black Chevy Impala. Not one of the gorgeous classics, one of the modern cars that all look the same. Sure, one could say that all the classics looked the same, too, but they would be sadly mistaken and no one could change my opinion on that. Slade’s pointed features bobbed over to the trunk on the other side of the car, his thick dark blond hair standing up straight against the chill wind. Appearing in his mid-twenties, Slade was actually over five-hundred.
I had assumed Raiden was meeting us here, but no other cars were parked on the street.
“Where’s Raiden?”
“He went out of town.”
“Oh.”
I followed Slade to the trunk and he opened it to reveal several shotgun cases. He opened one and slung the weapon over his shoulder by its strap. I held out my hands expectantly and Slade eyed me.
“Do you know how to shoot?”
“I was sixteen the first time Mom took me. Said that if I was going to date, I should know how to shoot.”
He chortled. “I love your mother.” He leaned on the trunk and waited expectantly.
I sighed and read off safety rules. “Never barrel someone, never keep your finger on the trigger, keep it pointed at the ground, and keep the safety on until you’re ready to shoot. When you unload, don’t forget the one in the chamber.”
He relinquished the weapon and also dropped a pair of green squishy earplugs in my palm. Next was a pair of rubber-armed safety goggles. This shotgun had a button safety near the trigger and another at the t
ang, both of which I kept on. I pocketed a few extra shells in my coat pockets. Slade marched for the tree line, but I lagged back.
“Slade?” I asked. He turned curiously. “Did Raiden go to look for Peter again?” His jaw clenched and he chewed on the inside of his lip. He nodded stiffly. “Why does that make you angry?”
“I don’t want him to keep giving you false hope. If he comes back with bad news again...” He pinched his lips together irritably. “It’ll hurt.”
“It already hurts,” I said quietly.
“I know.” Slade frowned sympathetically and turned around a tree.
Snow and pine needles crunched below my combat boots. The rich smell of the hemlock trees had mixed with the stink of mud after the rainstorm that morning, but the sun shone weakly through the grey clouds overhead. Unfortunately, the rain had made the snow on the ground icy, so Slade and I had to be careful on our trek. We couldn’t be certain where the creatures from the cabin had ended up, hence the shotguns. We kept a weather eye open for any dangerous wildlife, but only found a grey fox, an opossum, and a moose that we were very careful to avoid.
Slade moved the shotgun to his other shoulder. His angular nose and cheeks were starting to turn pink from the cold. “So, Adeline...”
I kept my attention forward, careful not to slip down a minor incline. “Yeah?”
“How are you?”
“A bit cold.”
I heard him exhale a sigh. “You know that’s not what I mean. Agent Stokes gave me a call.”
I glanced at him. The seriousness in his expression stifled my desire to deflect the subject with humor. “It was Peter’s brother. He came to see me at work and we argued. I guess he wanted to pick a fight when I got home.”
“Why not tell Stokes?”
I scoffed. A flutter in my peripheral caught my attention, but it was just an American marten. Its white face disappeared behind a rock when it caught me looking. “Are you serious? Ben’s angry. I get that. I’m not going to get him arrested for it, especially since it’s my fault that we’re in this mess.”
“That’s enough.” Slade caught hold of my arm to halt my trek. Anger boiled in my gut, but I pushed it down and turned to face him. “Yes, Peter may be gone and I’m sorry about that, but burying yourself in guilt isn’t doing you any favors. Peter went to the cabin to help you. You know you would have done the same for him if the roles were reversed.”
“If you’re so convinced he’s dead, then why did you let Raiden go look for him?”
Slade screwed up his face in incredulity. “First of all, I didn’t let Raiden do anything. He’s a grown man. And second, I get his point even if I don’t like it. If Peter is gone, then we do actually need to know and so does his family.”
We faced off for a moment. Then I started to turn down toward a steep hill until the hairs on the back of my neck suddenly stood on end. Someone was watching us. I analyzed the forest around us but nothing seemed to be moving.
“I feel it, too,” Slade whispered behind me.
The steep incline gave me a wide view of our surroundings, but there didn’t even seem to be any squirrels or birds about anymore. Where was the culprit? Then I remembered that no one in movies ever looks up. I peered into the pine above my head just in time to see someone slide from a branch and plummet toward us.
Before she even landed, her thick leather boot slammed into my chest and knocked me flat on my back. It wouldn’t have been a problem if it hadn’t sent me rolling down the hill. The shotgun flew from my grip. Childhood life lessons reminded me to protect my head and face with my arms, but twigs and broken branches snapped under my weight and jabbed painfully into everything else and my hip slammed painfully against a rock as I rolled over it. I came to a halt when my abdomen struck the trunk of a narrow aspen. The air whooshed from my lungs and I couldn’t get it back for a few moments.
Back up the hill, Slade had caught the woman around the middle from behind to subdue her. This wasn't one of the creatures that had attacked Raiden and me, so he didn't want to hurt her. I couldn't see the shotgun anywhere but assumed he had thrown it so she couldn't take it and use it. Since he was holding her weight for her, she lifted both legs and kicked back at him. He released her and doubled over and she spun to throw her elbow into his face. I scrambled to my feet and pulled the baton from my jacket as he rolled poorly down the hill. The woman faced my approach and drew a hunting knife from a sheath on the back of her belt.
Up close, it was clear that she hadn't slept much, if at all, in several days. Her dark blond hair was a frazzled mess and there was a wild look to her cobalt eyes, which were rimmed with dark circles. Her black jeans and black tee were badly torn and covered in mud stains and she seemed to be favoring her left leg. The shin of her right pant leg was stained with blood. Running and fighting for her life?
She lunged with her knife. I deflected a few of her swings with my baton but I didn't actually want to hit her with it. It felt cruel, but since her left leg was hurt, I kicked her knee. She cried out and it collapsed under her. I jammed the hilt of my baton into her wrist to disarm her and tossed the dagger away. She glared viciously and clenched her fist.
"Wait—oof!"
Her fist connected with my rib cage and knocked the air from my lungs again. She pulled the baton from my grip and pushed it against my neck until I backpedaled into a tree trunk. I forced the baton away from my throat. The adrenaline already coursing through me helped to activate my splinter skill. Her eyes widened at my strength and she fought harder.
"We don't want to hurt you," I said.
"That’s what Hunters do!" She barked wildly.
Six needle-like teeth were nestled between her regular teeth. Four on top, framing her canines, and two on bottom. Her brows were furrowed so deep that the lines almost looked as if they had been carved there. She was pissed.
"Kendra, stop!" Slade shouted.
Disbelief sucked the rage from her face. Her blue eyes widened and her breathing became shallow. Her fangs retracted. She released the baton and I heaved a deep breath of relief and rested against the tree.
Wait.
I balked as I processed what he’d said. Kendra? As in Kendra Cahn? His Kendra? Slade stood motionless about twenty feet away. A dark swathe of blood streaked the right side of his face where he must have struck his head on a rock or something. He was pale, his face wrought with emotion. Behind the grief, a haunted memory played in his grey-blue eyes. Similar ghosts fogged Kendra's eyes as she turned to him, but hers were guarded, more difficult to see.
"You. You're..." she trailed off.
She held her emotions close, meant only for her to know. Her grief was only evident in the downturn of her lips and the way her brows were faintly knitted together. Slowly, tentatively, Slade crossed the distance between them as if moving too quickly would make her disappear. Their glances never parted. His breathing was taut and his eyes were red as if he were trying to well up, but he kept pursing his lips to prevent himself from doing so. Now neither moved for a few strained heartbeats. Her pain—no not pain. Betrayal?—became more evident when he lifted a hand to touch her cheek. She stepped out of his reach and he closed his eyes and withdrew his hand.
After a calming breath, he leveled steady eyes on her. “What are you doing here?”
Kendra’s stance grew tense, her expression stern. Neither seemed capable of breaking their eye contact. “I heard a rumor about a draugr mausoleum out here. Is it true?”
“Yes.”
“Is he there?”
“We’re actually going there now,” I chimed in awkwardly.
Her icy gaze slid to me and I hoped I didn’t look as petrified as I felt by a startling realization I’d come to. This was my great-great-aunt. She looked only a few years older than me. I would never get used to that. I wanted to laugh, but I suspected Kendra might pummel me into the ground for it. Somehow, I didn’t think I’d be calling her “Auntie Kendra” anytime soon.
“Who are y
ou? And why are you doing that with your face?” Kendra asked tactfully. Slade noticed how bugged my eyes were and the corners of his mouth pulled up a bit.
I lifted my hands dismissively. “No one. Absolutely no one, I swear. That should be looked at.” I said, pointing to her leg.
Her gaze flicked toward Slade, but she wouldn't quite look at him now. She gave a terse nod. Slade and I retrieved our shotguns and ventured on.
***
The only sign of emotion in Kendra’s face was the wide, awed roundness of her cobalt eyes that took in every inch of the draugr mausoleum. The weight of its meaning seemed to be settling in and her lips pulled down just a touch. I let the strap of my shotgun carry most of its load so I could unclip the mini flashlight from my belt loop. I followed Slade inside, careful to keep the gun pointed to the floor off to the side. Kendra’s limping footsteps didn’t echo behind us until we were nearly at the door to Worg’s room. Slade seemed content to let her look around.
Worg beat us to the door as Slade moved to open it. Warm firelight dimly streaked into the hallway. The draugr’s sunken face had a haunted and disbelieving quality, his foggy blue eyes wide. His ability as the oldest seer alive had already told him she was here. A quickly sputtered question flitted from his lips in German that I believe was “Where is she?” His voice was distorted by the decomposition of his body. It was the work of a curse put upon several hundred people a very long time ago that kept them tethered to their bodies but didn’t keep them from slowly and agonizingly breaking down.
Slade and I parted so Worg could see Kendra’s silhouette down the corridor against the bright light through the exit door behind her. She froze. I pointed my flashlight at her so he could see her face and he made a sort of choking sob. Grief and fondness alike broke her guarded expression and she limped quickly to meet him in a familial embrace.
“I wasn’t certain I had actually seen you all these years or if I...” He trailed off. I remembered Slade mentioning that the draugr’s mind was leaving him in his advanced age. Apparently, Worg had also assumed his visions of Kendra were the work of disillusionment.