Vampire Innocent (Book 9): An Introduction To Paranormal Diplomacy

by Cox, Matthew S.

  “Drink it. Wait five seconds, then say you will not harm me.” Theresa fixes me with the sort of stare a teacher would use on misbehaving students, not the least bit afraid.

  “What is this? I’m not in the habit of drinking strange potions from friendly forest witches.”

  Theresa chuckles. “It’s a kind of truth spell. Doesn’t last long. One or two statements. If ya lie, yer guts’ll catch fire. Ya tell the truth, nothin’ happens.”

  Predictably, her mind is closed off to me, so I can’t verify.

  Sophia lets out a long sigh. “You probably shouldn’t drink that. The ghost is mean and already dead. I’d rather be made to destroy him than have something happen to you.”

  “Relax, child.” Theresa continues to stare at me, though her tone loses some hostility. “I do not deceive her as to the nature of the elixir. If she speaks truth, it’s no different from water.”

  I pull the cork out, releasing a scent like herbal mud. Oh, lovely. This is going to taste horrible. “If you wanted to destroy me, you’d have fired the bolt right away.”

  “Aye.” Theresa folds her arms. “You’ve the right of it.”

  “Witchwood works?” I hesitate, the bottle near my lip. “As far as I know, stakes are just annoying.”

  “Then ya ’aven’t been hit with a witchwood one. Got a few skulls of your kind in the cabinet.”

  Sophia stands protectively in front of me.

  I cringe. “We’re not all the same. Do you want to kill all humans because some are evil?”

  “Not rightly given ta trusting things what consider me food.” Theresa gestures at me. “G’won and do it, or take yer leave in peace if ya so choose.”

  Sophia tugs on my arm.

  This woman would have tried to shoot me right away if she wanted to kill me. Maybe she didn’t because of the distance, expecting to miss. However, she twitched when Sophia mentioned not wanting to destroy the ghost. Can this woman somehow sense our, umm… ‘empathy?’ Oh, screw it.

  I swig the potion. Gah. It tastes the same as it smells: floral dirt. Blech.

  A few seconds after gulping the potion down, it churns in my stomach. We had a kid in my class in high school who made a habit of chugging warm soda so he could belch super loud at pep rallies, assemblies… basically anywhere the entire school (or large crowds) could cheer him on. What’s going on inside me now makes me think of how he must have felt in the seconds after downing an entire can of soda in four seconds. I’m either about to burp so loud they’ll hear me back in London, or my belly’s going to explode like I’m giving birth to the monster from Alien.

  “I will not harm you,” I say.

  The storm in my gut lessens. In seconds, all discomfort is gone.

  Theresa drops her defensiveness. “All right then, dear. Come in.”

  I take Sophia by the hand and approach. The place is cozy, consisting of one main room containing a fireplace and sofa on the right, a table on the left near a wood-burning cook stove. A pair of doors—one on either side of the fireplace—are both closed. A tiny hallway leads deeper into the house on the kitchenette side. The place smells of wood smoke and baking pie. I don’t see a single bit of modern technology anywhere. Oil lamps as well as the fireplace provide the only light.

  She waits for us to walk inside, then closes the door and ushers us over to the table. After fetching tea and some cookies for Sophia, the old one takes a seat. “So, let’s hear it. What’s going on?”

  Between nibbles, Sophia explains how she felt sorry for the ghost, let him out of the soul jar, and now we’ve we ended up being brought to London against our will. Theresa is surprised to hear her say she still wants to help Asher and the others. Admittedly, after Martin’s death, I kinda want to stop the ghost, too. Doesn’t mean I’m totally cool with being kidnapped across the ocean, but maybe it’s possible for me to see it more like a teacher forcing a kid to clean up a mess they made rather than leaving it for the janitor. After the explanation, Sophia demonstrates she has actual talent by summoning a small light.

  Apparently trusting the old woman not to shoot me, Klepto reappears holding the witchwood crossbow bolt she stole earlier in her mouth, and drops it on the table. Other than not having a metal tip and being covered by a bunch of tiny carved symbols, the quarrel looks fairly ordinary, if medieval. It’s way thinner than anything most reasonable people would consider a ‘stake.’

  “Hmm. Sounds like you’ve landed in quite the spot.” Theresa emits a wheezy grandma-type chuckle despite not being overweight or terribly old. “It is possible to send the spirit across, and whatever justice the universe feels necessary will find him.”

  Sophia smiles. “Okay.”

  “Whoa…” I blink. “Like Hell?”

  “No, child. If he is truly run afoul, he’ll come back as a cockroach, dung beetle, flea… or perhaps one of those people who go door-to-door selling religion.”

  Sophia’s eyes widen. “Or even a telemarketer?”

  “I’m not sure what that is,” says Theresa.

  “Not worth the explanation.”

  “Umm.” Sophia shrugs. “My parents think they’re evil.”

  Theresa glances at me. “Forgive me for referring to you as ‘child.’ It’s easy to forget how old you are.”

  “I’m not old. Haven’t been a vampire a year yet. I really am the age I appear to be.”

  “Such a tragedy for the fiends to take a girl as young as you.” Theresa sighs. “You have my sympathies.”

  “I’m eighteen, not fourteen.” I force myself not to frown.

  “Bah. Four years? Either one’s a baby to me.” She shifts her attention to Sophia. “Come, little one. I’ll show you what you need to know.”

  Sophia follows Theresa over to the hearth. They sit on the floor in front of the fireplace, discussing the arrangement of the physical world to the spirit world and how magic can open pathways between them. A banishing of the type Sophia wants to perform requires a focused gateway permitting only one-way travel. Doing the magic wrong can easily result in a door any number of spirits might come flying out of. Theresa goes into an explanation of how to manipulate the energy responsible for separating the two worlds. Once their conversation passes the forty-minute mark, they both begin making strange, ghostly light orbs appear and glide around.

  I stay at the table, giving them distance. All this mystical stuff goes right over my head. Even though I’m literally seeing it work, it sounds as out there and ridiculous as horoscopes. Considering my kid sister summoned a 1,000-foot-sphere of darkness earlier this afternoon, watching her create tiny spirit orbs shouldn’t even register as odd.

  Yeah… my life really has ‘gone to plaid.’

  25

  Straight as the Sister Flies

  Apparently, learning how to create gateways across the interstitial space between dimensions requires more than a few minutes of practice. A quick training montage set to gripping rock music won’t do the trick.

  Who’d have thought?

  If Theresa Bromfield didn’t trust me yet, she’s gotta trust me the next day after I spent the morning and early afternoon helpless in her root cellar. Sleeping in someone’s house—or under it—is the vampire equivalent of a cat showing you their stomach. Considering I woke up again, good chance it’s safe for me to trust her. She doesn’t seem like the sort of forest witch who’d want to bake Sophia into a pie.

  I awake to a dirt ceiling and a spirit orb floating above me. It’s pale blue, five inches around, and contains a spectral hamster. Even though he’s monochromatic blue rather than brown-and-white, I recognize Wilbur.

  “Willie?” I try to pet him, but he’s merely an image. Unlike Klepto, he’s also apparently still a hundred percent hammie and can’t understand English. “What are you doing here?”

  The spirit hamster sniffs at me, then perches up on his hind legs the way he used to do when begging for treats. A moment later, he fades away. Either I’m hallucinating, or there’s been some misha
ps with ghost doorways while I slept.

  I stand, brush the dirt off my clothes, and think about taking a shower since I’ve been stuck in the same clothes for days. Something tells me a bath out here would involve water so cold even a vampire would shriek. I head up the little stairway to the wooden board over the hole, giving it a nudge to check the nuclear-ness of the outside world. The day is delightfully gloomy, so I push the board open the rest of the way and climb out.

  Despite not really wanting to be out here in the land time forgot and worrying about Sophia chasing down a dangerous spirit, I find myself taking in the wet-earth smell of recent rain and the overwhelming presence of the forest. It makes me want to go home even more. Dad found a word online a while ago: ‘petrichor.’ He said it’s the name of the smell left in the air after rain, and wants desperately to be able to use it in conversation.

  Heh. I smile to myself, thinking this is the perfect opportunity to set him up to take the shot.

  Right. Gotta get home first. Preferably before Christmas Eve.

  Theresa and Sophia are still working on magic stuff when I walk into the cabin, though they’re at the table rather than on the floor by the fireplace. Theresa is surprised to see me.

  So surprised, in fact, she screams.

  Sophia screams in reaction to her, much higher pitched and about a tenth the duration.

  “Aaah,” I deadpan.

  Theresa gawks at me. Sophia presses a hand to her chest, giving the old one a ‘why did you do that?’ stare.

  “I realize teenagers can be scary in the morning, but I’ve never made someone scream in terror before.” Technically true. Lucy wanted to scream when she saw me floating outside her window, but I derp-slapped her before she could.

  “Why are you awake?” rasps Theresa.

  “Because it’s a little after 2:30 and I’m not recovering from a brutal beating.” I check my phone. Sure enough, 2:48. A little later than usual. Guess I’m tired from being out in the sun.

  “But it’s still daylight out…” Theresa narrows her eyes at me. “And your aura is gone.”

  “I have an aura?”

  “Not in the traditional sense. Supernatural beings stand out to me.” She gets out of her chair and tentatively approaches. “Oh, you are still alight, but much dimmer.”

  “Remember me saying not all vamps are the same? Yeah. Hi.”

  After a brief explanation of the Innocent bloodline, magic school resumes.

  I sit there watching, waiting for dark while Sophia attends Hagwarts.

  Nah, Theresa isn’t ugly or ill-tempered. But she’s an old woman teaching magic, so the pun happened. Thanks, Dad. Bad enough he passed along his stick-figure genes, I’ve got to deal with a predisposition to puns.

  Much to my surprise, the sun goes down at 3:43 p.m. Sure it’s rainy today but wow, it’s early for darkness. I bet there’s a boatload of vampires in an area with such long periods of darkness. No wonder she had a crossbow ready and recognized me so fast. Anyway, a couple hours later, it sounds like my sister has the hang of banishing spirits. Over the course of eavesdropping, I’ve learned Theresa is like her, able to use magic without the requirement of doing rituals.

  No ‘go seek knowledge from the wise old hermit’ quest would be complete without a fetch quest. True to form, Theresa asks me to pick up some groceries for her from the nearby town, saving her the hike.

  Least I can do.

  At least it doesn’t involve killing a six-dozen kobolds.

  Sophia remains at the cabin to eat dinner with Theresa while I fly northeast to the village to buy the items on her list. It’s all ordinary foodstuffs, though navigating a Welsh grocery store is perhaps harder than killing a small army of kobolds. I get trapped in the aisles like the forest in the original Zelda video game where you can walk endlessly while going nowhere. Fortunately, the store doesn’t have random monsters trying to kill me. Merely a creepy bearded guy who follows me around staring at my ass. Eww. He’s gotta be past sixty and he thinks I’m hot.

  As much as I’m afraid to, I dig into his head. If he’s a threat to young girls, I can’t just leave him be. Fortunately, he’s content to look from afar and has no desire to assault anyone. Doesn’t mean I need to put up with him stalking me either, so he gets a prod to go home.

  By the time I fly back to the cabin with the groceries, dinner is finished. Sophia runs to grab her coat as I set the bags on the table.

  “Thank you, child,” says Theresa. “Would have taken me a whole day to run up there and back.”

  “No problem. Thanks for helping Sophia.”

  My sister hurries over to me, fumbling to start the zipper on her coat. “Yes. Thank you!”

  “If you happen to find yourself in Wales again, I’d love to have you visit.” She smiles at us—mostly Sophia.

  “Do you use Facebook?” asks Sophia.

  “No, dear. I’m not a necromancer.”

  I cackle.

  Theresa glances at me.

  “It’s a website, not magic,” says Sophia.

  “Not a fan of spiders.” Theresa winks.

  Okay, now I know she’s teasing us.

  “If we ever do happen to be in the area again, we’ll stop by.”

  Theresa smiles and gets started putting the groceries away. I pull on my harness, help Sophia into hers, and head outside. She clips on, stuffs the helmet down over her head, and reaches around in front of me to grab my harness straps.

  “Okay. Ready.”

  Every vampire in Seattle would laugh at me for turning myself into a flying mount. Except Stefano. He’d call me something nasty. Whatever. We leap into the air at 5:07 p.m. and land near the bookstore at 6:52 p.m. Heck of a commute, especially considering how fast I can fly compared to cars. At least up here I don’t have to deal with traffic lights or random strangers trying to wash my face if we stop. By the time we land, a thin crust of ice has formed on my chest and legs, as well as Sophia’s helmet. I hurry inside, happy to find all the mystics still alive.

  They help Sophia warm up with some hot cocoa and set to the task of discussing our next move. Considering we’re back in civilization where cellular reception actually exists, I catch up on a bunch of texts. Ashley’s pestering me to hurry up and get home because she wants me to go Christmas shopping with her. The ’rents are coping, happy to hear things here are still under control.

  “Excellent,” says Asher, in response to something going on in the ritual room. “Looks like everything is in place.”

  I hop off the chair and hurry over there.

  The mystics crowd around Sophia, who’s cradling a grape-sized blue light orb above her hands. A brighter spot marks the upper right side of the sphere.

  “Aye, brilliant,” says Mandy. “But it’ll be a ballache ta drive ’round after et.”

  “What’s up?” I ask.

  “It’s a pointer.” Sophia grins at me. “Shows me which way to go to find the ghost.”

  Asher brushes some manner of silvery powder off his hands. “We came up with a means for her to sense Fletcher’s presence using the link she established with him when she broke the seal of the soul jar. Think of it as a three-dimensional compass. If you imagine a line from the center of the orb out through the white spot, it points at the spirit.”

  “No way ta tell ’ow far, though,” says Mandy. “Stickin ta’ roads gonna be a right pain.”

  I wag my eyebrows. “Not a problem.”

  “Aye, not fer ya.” She looks around. “Yer not gonna be carryin’ the lot of us on yer back, though?”

  “She doesn’t need to. There isn’t much we’ll be able to accomplish.” Asher grasps Sophia’s shoulders, bowing his head. “I am sorry we brought you here without warning or even asking first. That you are still willing to help us says much of what kind of person you are. Thank you.”

  “It’s okay. I don’t want him to hurt anyone else.” Sophia releases the tracking spell. The orb dissipates into a luminous blue fog, blowing around her as
she walks through it to get her coat. “We’ll find him.”

  “The best thing we can do,” says Asher, “Is to go home. If we’re outside the wards here, it will tempt him to show himself. Except Mandy. You stay inside the sanctum.”

  She nods.

  Wow, no protest? The girl must be terrified. Great. Now I feel even worse for trying to drag Sophia home and leaving these mystics to their fate.

  “One question.” I hold up a hand. “How hard is this guy going to be to find?”

  “Not hard.” Sophia tugs on my harness so I crouch a little, allowing her to clip on. “They said I’ll be able to see him because of the soul jar stuff. He’ll probably remember me, so I’m going to talk to him. If he wants to go back to the Cauldron, it’s gonna be real easy. All I gotta do is open a door.”

  “What if he doesn’t want to go?” I raise an eyebrow.

  She grimaces. “It won’t be as easy.”

  “Obviously.”

  “Umm, well… if he doesn’t want to go, I’ll have’ta open the door then try to stuff him through it.”

  I shrug. “Doesn’t sound too difficult.”

  “Ghosts are slippery. And while I’m trying to squeeze him into the doorway, he might do bad stuff like make cars try to hit me or throw rocks.”

  “Or pigeons,” says Mandy.

  “S’okay. I won’t let anything hit you.”

  She reaches around and grabs my harness, then whispers, “I know. You being here to protect me is a big reason I said yes to helping them.”

  “All right.” I stand, lifting her off her feet. “Might as well deal with this ghost. No time like the present.”

  26

  Stupid White Crap Falling From the Sky

  Naturally, the weather decides to cooperate.

  I’d say ‘at least it’s not raining,’ but it’s doing worse: snowing. One good thing about the proto-blizzard slamming London at the moment: it keeps people focused on the mess at ground level. Sophia and I spend the first few minutes in the air arguing over pants. As in, I think she’s going to freeze flying around in a dress and we should get her jeans. She’s fine with the dress and doesn’t want to waste time shopping.