by L.H. Cosway
“Yes we know about her, she’s a vicious bitch. Killed a lot of good men in the fights we’ve had recently with the vampires.”
“She gives me the creeps. When she first saw me she said I smelled different, Ethan lied to her and told her I’m distantly related to a magic user. I guess that means he plans on keeping my secret.” I pause and look at Finn. “How old is Whitfield exactly?” I can’t stop picturing his cold, honey coloured eyes in my head, eyes that see far too much.
“According to our records he’s just over six hundred,” Finn replies. “His daughter is almost two hundred.”
“Jesus.” I rub my hands over my arms. Then I think of how Whitfield wanted to take me as one of his blood donors. For some reason I refrain from telling Finn about this, because I have a feeling he’d try to get me to go along with it, if only so that I can check out Whitfield’s house to see if that’s where he’s keeping Rebecca.
“Did you hear them mention anything about Pamphrock’s kid?” he asks.
“No, but I’m meeting up with Ethan tomorrow night. I’ll have to figure out a way to get him to talk about her, perhaps I’ll ask him about the war.”
“Good plan. But do you really think he’s going to tell you anything that important? I don’t mean to sound crude, but I think he just wants to get into your pants.”
“Delilah said I broke his heart. I think his feelings for me could be more than simple lust.”
Finn shakes his head. “Don’t fall for that rubbish. Vampires don’t have hearts, they think only with their fangs – and their trousers.”
I laugh. “Yeah maybe. But I’m going to give it a try anyway. See how much Ethan’s willing to reveal to me.” I stand up. “I’m going to bed now.”
“Sure,” says Finn, a faraway look on his face, deep in thought. “Sleep well.”
“I will,” I reply, before ascending the stairs.
In the morning Finn leaves early, telling me that he has to go help with training in the new recruits at the DOH compound we visited yesterday. I situate myself in the living room with my phone, preparing myself to call Nicky again. Just as I’m about to dial her number I hear something scratching at the back door. I go into the kitchen and peer out the window to find Wolf sitting there, staring right back at me. He lets out a quiet yip to encourage me to open the door and let him in.
I consider ignoring him, since Finn’s not around and I don’t know how comfortable I am letting a massive dog like Wolf into the house alone with me. Then I remember Finn telling me that he’s a teddy bear, and the next door neighbour Maria talking about how well-mannered he was when she’d been taking care of him.
Slowly I move to the door, my hand lingering above the handle, still unsure as to what I should do. There’s a small window in the middle of the back door. I look out and Wolf’s big brown eyes seem sad, pleading with me to let him inside. Oh God. This is probably going to be a huge mistake. I open the door and stand back and he pads into the kitchen, peering up at me before heading into the living room. Great.
I find him sitting on the carpet before the fireplace when I come in, but he doesn’t acknowledge my presence after that. I sit down again and hesitate, before diving straight in and dialling Nicky’s number.
It rings several times before I hear her familiar voice answer, “Hello?”
I don’t know what to say, and for about thirty seconds my voice fails me entirely. I cough to clear my throat.
“Who is this?” Nicky asks, and I realise that I disposed of my old phone before leaving Tribane, and that she’s not going to recognise the number I’m now calling on. I feel like hanging up, taking the coward’s way out. I don’t want to face her and the worry I must have caused her by leaving without a trace.
No, I need to face up to what I did. “Nicky,” I say, my voice just above a whisper.
I hear her suck in a shocked breath, and there’s a heavy silence before she replies, “Tegan, is that you?”
“It’s me.” Wolf adjusts his position by the fireplace so that he can look at me now. Fabulous, the dog wants to watch me squirm.
“What…where on earth have you been?” she asks, stunned.
“I had to get away for a while. I know that’s an absolutely terrible excuse and that I’m a selfish bitch for leaving and not telling you, especially after how you took care of me when Matthew..” I falter now, not knowing what else to say, tears sting my eyes.
“No, it’s okay. That man, Ethan, he called me and told me you were going away. He was a little fuzzy on the details, but I guess I kind of saw it coming. You were so detached from everything, even though you got that job and all, you still seemed – sad.”
Relief floods through my veins that she’s not angry at me. “I was Nicky, I was very, very sad. But I’m still sorry for what I did.” I can’t tell her that sadness wasn’t the only emotion I’d been drowning in, that a massive amount of fear was also at play.
“Are you back?” she asks. “In Tribane, I mean.”
“Yes, I came to see Dad, but Nicky, he’s gone. I went to our house, he sold it and left. Do you know where he went?”
There’s a long silence on the other end of the line. “Um Tegan, your dad was pretty upset when he found out you’d left. He kept calling me asking questions, in the end I had to tell him about Matthew. He seemed to accept that what happened was a good enough excuse for you to want to go away. The last time he called me was in the middle of the night, he was really upset and kept telling me that no matter who came asking that I wasn’t to tell them anything about you. I haven’t heard from him since. I thought he’d finally come to terms with you being gone.”
“How long ago was that?” I ask, fear catching in my throat.
“Over a year at least,” she says.
Images of my father running away from the vampires consume my thoughts. My lungs hurt, they fill up with so much guilt and anxiety that it’s almost hard to function.
Nicky continues, “Hey, I’m sure he’s all right Tegan. You know how my parents sold our house a few years ago and moved to the countryside to retire, that’s probably what your dad did too. You’ll find him eventually.”
I’m almost certain that moving away and retiring is not at all what my dad had been doing, but I can’t tell Nicky that. She doesn’t know anything about the vampires.
“I hope you’re right,” I tell her.
“So,” she says, a smile in her voice, “when can I see you?”
I think a moment. “Tomorrow, I’ll come to your place around lunch time.”
“Sounds good, I’ll see you then.”
We say our goodbyes and hang up. Wolf comes and hops onto the couch, it gives me the fright of my life. I’d been lost in my own head for a minute. Lost in worry. Wolf sits down, resting his head on my lap. I don’t know what to do for a minute, and I’m scared that if I move or try to get up that he’ll start growling. So instead I make myself relax, and stroke a hand over his silky black and gold fur. He makes a contented humming sound, and eventually I’m completely calm with him. I hadn’t noticed it before, but there’s something meditative about Finn’s dog, especially when you get lost in petting him and he does the dog version of purring.
I stay there for more than an hour, just sorting through my thoughts and letting the massive dog sleep on my lap. Lunch time comes around quickly and I go into the kitchen to see what there is to eat. I make a mushroom omelette. Wolf has followed me in and watches my every move, perhaps he’s hungry too. I take the big bag of dog biscuits out of the cupboard and pour some into his feeding bowl, he seems happy with this and goes over to munch on them. I sit down at the table with my omelette, and just as I’m about to tuck in, something odd occurs.
My hand hovers in the air above the fork, and the fork begins to hum and vibrate. It’s as though there is some kind of electrical charge coming from my body. I quickly put my hand down on my lap and immediately the fork goes still. What the hell? Slowly I raise my hand up again, hold it over the
fork, and this time it floats up off the table. I keep lifting my hand higher and higher, and quite amazingly, the fork follows.
Wolf leaves his food and hops up onto one of the chairs, resting his big paws on the surface of the table and watching as the fork levitates in mid-air. Then he looks at me, with wise eyes that are almost human, and tilts his head to the side, as though trying to figure me out. I make a swift pushing motion with my hand and the fork flies across the room.
Shock and surprise consume me. Had I really just made the fork move without so much as touching it? The image of my mother casting her spell on me when I was only a baby fills my head. She had used such powerful magic at the time. Did some of it contaminate me as a result, or do I have a talent for spells just like my mother had? A frustrated sigh escapes my lips. Why do things I don’t understand have to keep happening to me?
It’s this God damned city, nothing even remotely out of the ordinary occurred while I’d been in Manchester. I never should have agreed to come back. I need to do something about this, because unconsciously causing a fork to levitate is definitely not normal. Then I know what I have to do. I’m going to have to pay Rita a visit.
Later that I evening I tug my long coat tight around me, buttoning it all the way up to the top as I walk alone through the festive city streets. It’s so very cold out, and people rush by this way and that, laden down with shopping bags in a hurry to have all of their gifts purchased before Christmas. I haven’t bought anything yet, last year I received no presents at all. Then again, I did spend the day in bed eating, watching old movies and mourning home at intervals. I make a mental note to get something nice for both Nicky and my dad, I really hope I find him soon.
I’m on my way to the Blackfield monument where I’m supposed to be meeting Ethan. It’s this huge stone statue of some general from the 1800’s. I wonder if Ethan ever met him, since he’s been alive for the best part of the last three hundred years. The historian in me is hungry to know Ethan’s story, to discover all the things that have happened to him during his long life. Perhaps some day soon he’ll be willing to tell me about it.
What happened to me at lunch time is still taking up most of my brain space. I’m going to go to Rita’s house tomorrow after I’ve had lunch with Nicky. See if she can shed some light on the mystery of the levitating fork. I try to convince myself that there’s some kind of logical explanation for it, like electrical waves or something complicated and technical that I don’t understand. I laugh at the idea that this is some new and unusual ability, that I’ll end up touring the world, making things float in the air for intrigued audiences. Just like Uri Gellar and his bending spoons.
The Blackfield monument is on the South side of the river, so I have to cross over a bridge to get to it. The foreboding stone statue sits high atop a number of steep steps, it’s always been a favourite meeting point in Tribane. People come and sit on the steps, some just to hang out, others to wait for their friends to show up. Just beyond it you can see the board walk that looks out onto the Hawthorne.
It’s just gone eight o’clock and the steps of the monument are packed with people, talking, laughing, arguing, waiting. As I get near I see Ethan’s tall frame, standing amid a sea of unsuspecting humans. His eyes seek me out as I walk toward him. When I get to him he takes my hand into his, turns it over to expose the wrist, and presses his lips to my sensitive skin. I shiver. He grins. I pull my hand back quickly and stare at him for a minute, he’s wearing his usual casual attire, and every section of fabric clings to him exquisitely. Despite the fact that I have a purpose for spending time with Ethan, I can’t help getting lost in him every time he’s close to me.
“You look beautiful as always,” he tells me, holding out his arm to me. Reluctantly I take it, wondering what kind of plans he has for me tonight.
“It’s strange seeing you without your car,” I say, as I link my arm through his and he begins to lead me away from the monument, toward the board walk.
“I once knew a woman who spoke to me of using old-fashioned methods of transportation, such as walking. I decided I should give it a try for a change.”
I can’t help smiling at this. “And how are you finding it so far?”
Ethan looks down at me. “You forget Tegan, that I was alive long before the invention of the motor car.”
“That’s true, would you care to tell me about those days?” I ask, seeing this as a good opportunity to get him to tell me about his history.
“So inquisitive,” Ethan replies. “Another time perhaps, I don’t wish to speak about myself tonight.” Then he stops in front of an Asian fast food stall and orders two boxes of noodles. We wait for the food in silence, all the while he just keeps watching me with his intense dark eyes. I’d give anything to know what he’s thinking about. What he’s planning. Ethan pays for our food, pops the brown paper bag over his forearm, and we continue our walk.
“Where are we going?” I ask, and he glances at me in amusement. We’re almost at the end of the board walk when Ethan stops walking. I look out to the river and find a small white motor boat floating idly in the water. Ethan takes my arm and helps me up onto its flat surface. Then he sits down and begins opening the noodles, handing me a box and some chop sticks.
“Isn’t it a little cold to be dining outdoors?” I say, hesitant to begin eating.
“I enjoy the chill,” says Ethan. “Especially at this time of year, it’s invigorating.”
“If you say so,” I reply, before swallowing down a mouthful of warm, spicy noodles.
I try to wait a while before asking Ethan if he’s found anything out about my dad, but I can’t seem to help myself. I scoot over to sit a little closer to him, and it seems to please him. I can see the corner of his mouth turn up in a half smile.
“Did you ask around about my dad yet?” I say, past another mouthful of noodles.
Ethan eats silently for a moment before answering, “I did.” But then he doesn’t say anything more.
“And…” I prompt him to continue.
He frowns and faces me. “It seems you are quite eager to get to the point.”
“What do you mean?”
“I had thought you would at least allow me the illusion that you are here to spend time with me.”
“I am here to spend time with you Ethan, but my purpose in coming back to Tribane was to visit my father, and he’s missing so excuse me if finding him is high on my list of priorities.” If only he knew my other reason for being here, I think a frown from Ethan would be the least of my worries if he ever discovered that.
“Things are a lot different in this city now,” he says suddenly, his voice low and hard. “There has been a shift in power and I am in a far better position than I had been the last time you knew me.”
Finn told me about Ethan being Whitfield’s second in command, does that mean he’s now the second most powerful vampire in Tribane? My temperature drops just thinking about it.
“Well isn’t that marvellous, congratulations are surely in order,” I reply sarcastically, putting down my half-finished box of noodles, not so hungry any more.
“Perhaps they are Tegan,” Ethan says cuttingly, and I immediately regret having given him cheek, “but it also means that I am not a man to be trifled with. And I do not keep company with women who have no interest in me. So I will give you the information you came for and you can be on your way.”
I try to speak, but he silences me with a dark look, then continues, “I have looked into your father’s disappearance, and there is no connection between it and the activity of my people. All who know of your unique genetics are under my authority, Lucas, Delilah and Drusilla. They could not tell a soul about you even if they wanted to. Antonia is dead, as are all of her other bodyguards. So if something bad has happened to your father, then I can tell you with absolute certainty that it has nothing to do with vampires.”
Right. If Ethan is to be believed, my dad didn’t leave town because of vampires. I st
ow that information away for later. Then I think about what he’s just said. “What do you mean by ‘they couldn’t tell a soul even if they wanted to’?”
Ethan places his food neatly down onto the floor of the boat. Our legs dangle over the edge, and in this moment I imagine how easy it would be for him to drain my blood and simply toss me into the water. He leans over me. “I am their superior, that means I have powers of compulsion over them, and I have compelled them not to speak of your blood.”
I bite my lower lip out of nervousness from his proximity. “So, that’s a good thing right?” I whisper, unable to take my eyes off his mouth.
Urgently, he grabs onto my hips, pulling me under him. Then I watch as his sharp, white fangs extend out from under his lips. Oh God, are these going to be my last few moments on earth? I suppose dying at the hands of a beautiful man isn’t the worst way to go. I say a silent prayer in my head, but this is surely no time to begin reverting back to religion.
“I am beginning to think that maybe I should stop being such a gentleman with you,” he whispers. “There was a time when I would simply take what I wanted. Over the years the world has become a less outwardly violent place, and so my habits have adjusted to that change. Perhaps it was all a waste of my time.”
His fingers reach down and begin unbuttoning my coat, and I’m in too much shock to do anything but simply lay there. His hand slips inside and around my waist, pulling me into him. Then he dips his head to the very centre of my throat, I think he’s about to bite me and I close my eyes in fear. But he doesn’t bite, he breathes in and then traces his fangs over my skin, scraping pleasurably into my nerve endings.
His voice is like smooth, sweet honey when he says, “So you do like me then, at least a little bit.”
“What makes you say that?” I ask, my voice shaky. Even though I think he should know how much I like him after that night we spent back in my old apartment before I’d gone away.