Daisy After Life (Book 1): Perdition

by Demers, Raven J.

  Jared collected the Queen’s head and followed Daisy in silence. He called the elevator to them, and they left the underground palace of the Shadow Queen, hidden beneath the ruins of Briarcliff Mansion.

  Hidden in Plain Sight

  The elevator ascended, with none of them speaking. Daisy recoiled at the eyes of the still-living Queen and her attempts to communicate. Her mouth shaped words she could not speak, as thick, black blood continued to seep from the gash at her neck. Perdita kept her face buried in Daisy’s chest, unwilling to look at the terrible sights so close at hand.

  Only as they approached the final tunnel before breaking the ground above, did Daisy realize the folly of their timing. Jared’s eyes widened as he sensed it, too. The sun had not yet set.

  Daisy acted fast. "I’m sorry Perdy, but someone needs your blanket more than you right now."

  She hastened to unwrap the wool blanket wrapped tight around the child, and threw it over Jared’s head, as sunlight broke through the top of the cage cresting the leaf-strewn ground. "What of you?" Jared asked, ready to return the blanket to Daisy.

  "I ask you not to share this secret with others," Daisy said, and reached her hand outside the elevator to show him the light had no effect on her. He gawped a moment, but then raced out of the iron cage and toward the sedan. Daisy followed, not quite as fast, and heard a beep. The car unlocked. Jared threw himself into the trunk and pulled it shut on top of himself. He’d left Camilla’s head on the ground. It gazed up at her, unburnt from Daisy’s own blood, though she couldn’t tell how much brain capacity the Queen retained sans body.

  Numb beyond reasoning, Daisy set Perdita on the back seat, buckling her in. Then she went to the trunk, and asked Jared. "How am I to drive without the keys?"

  "It’s automatic. So long as the keys are in the car, you only need press the power button to drive it," he said through the metal.

  "Where can we go until morning?" she asked.

  "Do you know how to get to Valerie’s house?"

  "Yes, but it isn’t safe to—"

  "Three houses down the street, on the corner. It’s safe there. They didn’t find her or any of the others loyal to her," he said. "The proximity of the scents confused the trackers, among other safeguards."

  She lifted the Queen’s head by the hair, separated herself from her emotions about the situation, and entered the driver’s seat. She started the car, and drove off through rush hour traffic toward Valerie’s former house. She took her time getting there, stopped to get gasoline and treats, cleaned up in the bathroom, and waited a full hour after sunset before heading toward Valerie’s house. Before they neared the neighborhood, she let Jared out of the trunk. He took the passenger seat, stretching his long legs awkwardly around the severed head still somewhat alive and aware below.

  "Your gift," he said, and Daisy pulled over to the side of the road, setting her hazards on.

  "What of it?" she asked.

  Jared considered. "What do you know about the special gifts some vampires possess?"

  She shut her eyes and took an unnecessary deep breath out of habit. "Next to nothing. Nathaniel wasn’t forthcoming, or maybe he didn’t know much either. I know we are stronger and faster than humans, that we produce a fragrance attractive to humans, but not why some can read minds or control blood."

  "Or walk in the sun," he said, and she remained tense. "Do you remember your last thought before dying?"

  It took her a long moment to recall. Most of her recollection from those final moments remained fuzzy, as though blotted out by sponged ink over a colorful canvas. "I think ... I think I feared losing who I was and ... never seeing the sun again."

  He smiled gently and patted her hand. "That would do it. Fear is the key. As far as we understand it, in the final moments of death before the change, the brain fixates on the fear, creating a chemical change leading to restructuring how the brain functions once the transformation is complete."

  "Fear?" she asked, considering this.

  "It’s a powerful trigger for a cascade of automatic physical changes. Fear can give a human strength, make them run faster than before. Fear sends a signal for a need for adrenaline. The body responds."

  Daisy thought a while longer. "What about those who don’t have special powers?"

  "No fear," he said. "Either they wanted to change, or they were in a situation that didn’t trigger the response."

  "What did you fear?" she asked. "I didn’t. Valerie changed me; I wanted her to."

  They spent several moments in silence before Daisy turned back onto the road.

  When she approached the old house, she saw the damage left from her fight with Jill; remnants of black blood stained the ground, and grass and border flowers were torn in patches.

  The car continued up the street, away from the front gate. At the corner, she saw a more diminutive house, in a similar style to the old one. The columns stood a little shorter, the porch smaller, and the flowerbeds less maintained. Daisy preferred it to the first.

  "Perdita? How are you, sugar?" The child hadn’t spoken since leaving the underground palace. Her brown eyes remained fix on the horizon, and she hadn't touched the cheese and cracker pack Daisy had purchased at the gas station. At least she’d had a full bottle of water.

  Daisy looked at Jared. "She is not to be touched. Understood?"

  "Of course," he said, and touched a button on his key chain.

  The garage door opened at her approach. Daisy pulled in and exited the vehicle once the door closed behind them. The mudroom door opened, and Guilherme stepped out. Daisy paused at Perdita’s door, and stared at him.

  He held up his hands, palms out. "Truce, ma’am," he said.

  She lifted Perdita into her arms, gathered up the cheese and crackers, and entered the house. Jared and Guilherme followed close behind her. The interior of the house lacked some of the ostentatious flair of its sister down the street, but held abundant, luxurious comforts, nonetheless.

  The house smelled of a number of others; far more than Daisy recalled formally meeting. She followed her senses to Valerie in sitting room, seated on an extra cushiony couch upholstered in large blue roses. Valerie stood, and bowed to her. "You return, and you’ve brought him back to me. Thank you."

  Jared took several long strides toward Valerie, and they embraced, their mouths finding one another. Their kiss lasted several minutes, and Daisy turned from the room to seek out a safe place to lay the frightened child in her arms. Guilherme met her in the kitchen.

  "Valerie said if you returned, you were to be given any accommodations you require. Do you need a room? Blood?" he asked.

  Daisy watched him warily. He seemed to be keeping to the truce, but she would never trust him. "A room, if you please."

  He led her upstairs to a furnished room with a plush, canopy bed. She laid the girl down, and set the snack next to her on the bedside table. After tucking her in, she stood to watch him standing in the doorway. She pulled a chair from the desk in the corner, and dragged it to where he stood. He stepped back, allowing her to exit the room.

  Daisy set the chair in front of the door, and sat down with a sigh.

  Guilherme continued to watch her.

  "Did you need something?" she asked.

  He lowered his eyes, and asked, "Did you see Fanille? Inside the palace?"

  Daisy’s tension dropped, her features going slack. She shook her head. "No. I saw few vampires in there, and didn’t have time to check all the cells. I’m sorry."

  He pressed his back against the wall, and slid down until his forehead touched his knees. His body shook with sobbing.

  Daisy’s instinct was to comfort, but she kept herself from touching him as she felt drawn to do. "Camilla is dead. We left Nikola and the torturer drained. There may be a chance to re-enter the palace and search the cells until they can replenish themselves."

  Guilherme shook his head. "Where were the others?"

  "What others?" she asked.

  H
e lifted his face from his knees and looked at her. "She had at least three dozen loyalists working for her, half of them ought to have been in the palace to protect her. You say there were only two?"

  She nodded, a sick feeling overcoming her. Where were the others?

  Guilherme shot to his feet, and raced down the stairs.

  "No," she said to no one. "No more fighting. No more battles."

  Behind the door, Perdita had fallen into a fitful sleep, and cried out wordlessly.

  The Aunt’s House

  Valerie called them together in the living room. Daisy reluctantly left her post at Perdita's door. Jared, Daisy, Guilherme, and six other vampires. Only one couple looked familiar among the six, the nameless pair who watched her punishment in the basement. "Daisy and Jared have returned after a harrowing visit to see the Queen."

  A few of them murmured.

  "For those unaware, I am not the true Queen of Atlanta. Camilla was," Valerie said, as Jared lifted up a box. Camilla’s head continued to live, despite all logic, yet it had withered from blood loss, her skin appearing sallow and warped on her skull. The eyes stared out at them, occasionally moving from one face to another. "Camilla controlled the city behind the scenes for over a hundred and twenty years.

  "She orchestrated an attempt on my life when I showed signs of resistance to Jill’s venom. Daisy went to deliver evidence of my death, and survived."

  Those who knew Camilla gave an impressed glance at Daisy, the others remained blank faces. "Though they survived and escaped, even taking the head of the Queen, their report disturbs me. The majority of Camilla’s loyalists were not in the palace during these events."

  Jared interjected, "We believe they knew Valerie yet lived, and we believe they’ll be seeking retribution. Possibly tonight."

  "How many loyalists?" a dark-skinned woman asked.

  "Approximately three dozen," he answered.

  The whispering voices grew louder; most of them talking over each other.

  "There are only ten of us," a large, light-skinned man in a worn suit said.

  Daisy, who had unconsciously folded her arms, dropped them to her sides. "Nine. I need to get the child to safety."

  The man who spoke gave a curious look. "Child?"

  Valerie interjected, "Daisy, we need you. You still have some of Camilla’s blood in you."

  Daisy shook her head. "I didn't keep most of it down."

  Looks passed between the others, some of them concern, others disgust. Daisy ignored them all, and headed for the stairs. Jared dashed ahead of her. "Wait, Madame. This fight will come, in part, because of you."

  "No," she said. "It will come because a child was turned into a vampire, allowed to rule this city through cruelty and coercion, and played the petty games one should have expected of such a creature."

  "Fair enough," he said, "but we should all stick together. We have a better chance of survival."

  Daisy moved past him and up the stairs. He followed. She opened the door to the guest room where Perdita slept, and gathered the child in her arms, wrapping the bed’s throw around her. She whispered, "Not her. If she stays here, she’ll be used as a pawn or outright killed."

  Valerie waited in the hall as well, her hands open.

  Daisy said to her, "Once she’s safe, I’ll come back to help. Then I’m leaving Atlanta for good."

  Valerie nodded, and stepped aside. "Return quickly. We have no idea when they might arrive."

  Daisy began heading for the stairs and paused. "Has anyone heard from Nathaniel?"

  Valerie gave a shake of her head, and held out a set of car keys. "There is a second car parked in the garage at the other house. It should have a full tank of gas."

  "Thank you," Daisy said, and moved fast out of one house and into another. She set Perdy on the back seat of a light blue coupe and buckled her once more. A plan formed in her mind. She would take Perdita back to Esperanza’s, request the money she gave her, and then pay a visit to her other aunt and pay her off to leave the child and her rightful family alone.

  She feared any part of her plan falling apart, but it was all she could think of at the time. Even the safety of Esperanza’s house for one night would be better than nothing.

  Taking the freeway late at night, she exceeded the speed limit as much as the tiny coupe could handle. She reached Esperanza’s house in under fifteen minutes, and prayed she would answer. Please Lord, help me find a safe haven for this innocent child. She has seen too many horrors in her short years.

  Daisy pulled up a block away, and ran swiftly to Esperanza’s back door, hoping not to cause a stir among the neighbors. Perdita shifted in her arms, face pressed into her neck causing warm breath to tickle the stray hairs there. She noted the broken window had been boarded up with planks of unfinished wood.

  After knocking for several minutes, and tapping at the windows she thought might belong to the master bedroom, she worked a window open and lowered Perdita to the floor before shimmying in through the window herself.

  The house lay in darkness. Though old smells of humans and food permeated the house, she heard no breathing, and sensed no fresh scent from the house’s inhabitants.

  Daisy moved Perdita to an empty chair, and wandered through the house. She turned on a light in the living room, and found everything more or less in order, as she recalled it from her last visit. Some toys lay strewn on the floor. In the kitchen, a small meal’s worth of dishes sat by the sink, awaiting a wash.

  When she turned on the lights in the bedrooms, she found clothes in disarray. Items hastily grabbed, closet doors flung open. The bathroom stood absent of toothbrushes, shampoo, towels, and medicines.

  Whatever scared the Moreno family, they’d had some notice before running, and abandoned their house. A chill ran down Daisy’s spine and a weight lay heavy on her chest. She turned off the lights, collected Perdita, and returned to the coupe.

  She took the fastest route she could recall toward the town in which she’d found the child. She had no idea where her Aunt Arabella lived, and stopped into a convenience store, asking to look at a phone book. At least, in the small towns, people still sometimes used them. She didn’t have a last name, though. "Can you keep this handy for me? I need to remind myself of the name," she said to the clerk. The young man seemed mildly irritated, but shrugged his shoulder in a reluctant acquiescence.

  Perdita woke with difficulty. "Perdy, sugar, I need you to tell me something."

  The child blinked crust and dried tears from her eyes, not quite aware of the situation she found herself in. There came a soft whimper.

  "Perdy, what’s Arabella’s last name?"

  "Huh?"

  "Arabella’s last name. What is it, sugar?" Impatience blossomed in her. The pressure of an impending battle, most likely doomed, and the loss of Esperanza in her plan weighed on her.

  "Same as mine," the child muttered.

  Daisy took a deep breath. "What’s your last name, then?"

  "Kee," she said.

  "Key?" Daisy asked. "Can you spell it, honey, I need to—"

  "Why?" Perdita sat upright. "Please don’t take me back Anthea. You promised you—"

  "Shh! Honey child, I’m not taking you back, but I need to ask her a few questions. Ok? I won’t let her or your cousin touch you."

  Perdita’s eyes were wide, but she said, "Arabella Kee. K-E-E."

  "Thank you, sugar." Daisy gave her forehead a cool kiss, and returned to the store.

  It took little time to find the house—a little run down rambler less than a quarter mile from the convenience store, which, as she’d been informed, was closing soon and could she hurry it up.

  Perdita watched from the car window with frozen trepidation, her eyes peering over the door, but barely. She’d wrapped the blanket over herself, covering all but half her face.

  Daisy pressed the doorbell to Arabella's rambler, but it didn’t make any sound. She knocked, and hoped the distance between the houses would prevent the noise
from disturbing the neighbors. Old, dusty cobwebs clung to the eaves, and the porch looked as though it hadn’t been swept in a decade. A plastic slide and covered sandbox lay in the front yard, caked in grime and obscured from immediate view by tall grasses.

  Once again, she was met with silence. Maybe the woman didn’t wish to be disturbed and hoped ignoring the knocking would send her away. Daisy found her way around the house, and tried the back door. Another several minutes passed, and she grew uneasy. What was the likelihood of both aunts being driven off at the same time?

  Daisy didn’t find an unlocked window, but an air conditioner sat anchored in one window, likely the master bedroom or living room. It took a bit of strength and caused a ruckus, but she managed to push it through the window and jump through after, before the neighbors peeked to see what caused the disturbance.

  She paused, unmoving, and waited for someone to notice or complain, but no one did. As she crouched beneath the windowsill and the broken A/C unit, she noticed the house smelled unlike the Moreno household.

  A rotting stench filled the room, the smell of corrupted flesh and old blood. She stopped breathing and stood, feeling the walls for the light switch. Her hand slid across a sticky mess before she found what she sought. An aging switch clicked when she turned it, and the light revealed two adult bodies lying bloated on a bed. They’d been dragged by someone from out of the room, and that someone had left a bloody handprint on the walls.

  A gaunt Arabella with skin so fair it looked stark white in the yellow light, lay staring upwards. Her auburn-dyed hair had come undone from its pins, and the slim strap of her nightgown had slid from her shoulder. The man, who Daisy couldn’t name, had a sunken face, ruined by some blunt impact. She stood, unable to move, staring at the torn throats and the flies they attracted.

  Finally, Daisy turned away, and followed the trail of gore into the living room, where the attack happened. The couch showed deep puddles of blood, now thickened into the cushions, and onto the green, shag carpet. A television continued to play its shows. Daisy turned it off, despair rising in her.