by Gayla Twist
“Oh, yes I am,” I informed him, figuring that I could get to the emergency exit before they could.
“You’d better come with us,” he warned me. “If you know what’s good for you.”
“Why would I do that?” There was no way going with them would possibly be good for me.
“We’ve got your dad,” he shouted back at me.
A moment later two more guards appeared, dragging Randolph out into the hall. They had his hands bound behind his back and a silver net over his head. He was writhing in pain, shouting, “Haley! Haley!”
“You’d better come with us or we’re going to stake your dad,” the lead guard snarled at me.
For the briefest of moments, I took in the whole scene, the weird office building, the guards, Randolph suffering in the guards’ clutches. And then I threw the metal stirrup with all of my strength, shattering the window at the end of the hall.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the guard demanded, as wind whipped down the hall. “We’re going to kill him.”
“Go ahead,” I said, glancing at them over my shoulder before saying, “That’s not my dad.” And then I dove out the window.
Chapter 16
Dorian
“Misty,” I said, grabbing the vampiress by the shoulders and somehow resisting the urge to shake her. My memories were flooding back, but there were gaps and I wanted her to help fill them. “I need you to tell me everything you know and I need you to do so immediately.”
Haley was in danger; I could feel it in my bones. The entire time that I’d been wandering around a country estate, my progeny was probably fighting for her life. I had to find her immediately. Every second I couldn’t help her was agony.
“Yes,” she said, fighting back a sob. “I will… I promise.”
I released her, allowing her a moment to compose herself. My memory was still spotty, but I tried to think back to the last thing I could remember before waking up in the coffin. Haley and I were visiting a volcano… No, that wasn’t right; there had been snow. “Antarctica,” I concluded.
“What?” Misty said, wiping away tears.
“Is my progeny still in Antarctica?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t think so. She shouldn’t be. Not by now.”
“Where is she?” I demanded, doing my best to suppress any fear that Haley might have been harmed.
Misty shook her head. “I… I don’t know. I don’t know where they took her.”
I wanted to start smashing the furniture, but I knew that Misty was only trying to help. So I forced myself to remain calm and simply said, “Would you please tell me everything that you do know?”
She looked down at the floor for several seconds before saying. “Alfred called me to the library a few weeks ago and said that he needed my help in a deception. He wanted me to help trick you into believing you were somebody else. He wanted me to keep you distracted so that you wouldn’t come to the aid of your progeny and she would be unprotected.”
“Do you know why?”
“No.” She looked up at me. “I’m not sure he even knows. But I do know he’s being paid very handsomely to do it. And he needs money. He only bought this estate fifty years ago and he can’t afford its upkeep.”
“But what did he say? What did he tell you?” I didn’t give a damn about Uncle Alfred's money troubles.
“He told me that I must convince you that we were old friends and that your name was Darius. And that I should keep you happy, and contented, — no matter what — and that I shouldn’t ask him too many questions or…” Misty blinked rapidly, fighting off additional tears.
“Or what?” There had to be some reason she would so willingly do his bidding.
Her eyes filled with anger and remorse. “Or he wouldn’t retract the charges that he’s falsely pressed against my father. Charges that have kept him locked in a coffin for the last twenty years.”
“He…” I found it difficult to finish my thought. “What has he accused your father of?” It was inconsiderate of me to ask, but the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.
“Alfred and my father used to be business partners. And Uncle Alfred thinks…” she began and then faltered. “At least he’s pretending that he believes my father...” she stammered. “It’s all about money. Money, greed, and jealously. I’m not saying my father is perfect, but he doesn’t…” She tried again, “He would never…”
“Misty, please stop,” I said, reaching for her hand. “I don’t need to know. It was rude of me to ask. I’m sorry; it’s none of my business.”
“Thank you,” she said in a halting voice. “I would prefer not to say.”
“I need you to focus on telling me everything you know about what happened to my progeny.” When it looked like she didn’t know where to begin, I prompted her with, “Who wants my progeny and why?”
Misty closed her eyes for a moment, as if trying to recall information. “I know that whoever wants her has been willing to pay out large amounts of money to get her. I think it’s something medical, but that’s only because I overheard a conversation about how it would take some time to run the tests and that there might be trouble getting a tissue sample to the lab.”
“Why would they need Haley for medical reasons?” I wondered aloud. That didn’t make sense. Vampires were already dead; it wasn’t like we needed doctors.
“I think,” Misty began, and then she grew silent.
“What?” Even if she had just a vague guess, I wanted to hear it.
“I think there is a rumor that your progeny’s father is a vampire,” she told me. “And that her mother is a mortal.”
Everything clicked into place in my head. Haley had told me about the last time she went to visit her mother in the mental health care facility. Her mother hadn’t been at all shocked or alarmed that Haley was a member of the undead. In fact, she’d even said something about Haley’s father being a vampire. But Haley had assumed that her mother was joking, or that the comment was somehow wrapped up in her mental illness. But how in the world would anyone believe it to be the truth?
But if it was the truth, — or at least if some members of the undead believed it to be the truth — then everything made sense. Many vampires would stop at nothing to be able to have a child. No price would be too high to pay; many vampires would hand over their entire fortune for the chance to have a baby. And whoever had taken Haley must have known that.
“Do you have any idea who is behind all of this?” I asked, although it was pretty obvious that she didn’t.
A shake of her head only confirmed my assumption.
“Do you think I could beat the information out of Alfred?” I asked, my hands curling into fists.
Misty’s blue eyes widened with fear. “I don’t know, but…” She hesitated a moment before blurting, “If Alfred finds out I told you, then my father will never be free.”
She had a point. And if it wasn’t for her, I would still be wandering around the estate, seeing how many different D names people were willing to call me. “I’ll see if I can get any information out of him by just pretending my memory is gradually returning,” I assured her. “I wouldn’t want to be responsible for your father not being released.”
“Thank you,” she sighed, looking relieved.
“So why are you willing to help me, if it puts your father’s freedom at risk?” I asked.
“Oh.” Misty turned her eyes away.
I waited for the reply
“It’s just…” She glanced at me and then looked away again. “The way you freed that mortal girl… And the way you’ve been kind to me… I knew I couldn’t live with myself if I continued with the deception. I find myself feeling envious of your progeny,” she admitted in a small voice.
“Oh.” I thought maybe I understood. “You’ve been living under your uncle’s roof for so long that you are unaccustomed to people showing kindness.”
She shook her head, unable to spe
ak.
“Misty,” I told her, taking both her hands. “I must save Haley. That’s all I can focus on right now. But once my progeny is safe, I swear to you that I will do whatever it takes to make sure that your father is freed and that you are able to leave this place.”
She nodded, squeezing my hands and blinking rapidly.
“You must believe me and stay strong,” I told her. “But right now I have to go. It’ll be dawn soon and I must be as far away from here as I can fly. I assume your uncle won’t let me go without a fight.”
“There’s a small cupola at the peak of the house,” Misty said. “It’s just a tiny room, no bigger than a hen-house, but light-proof, just like everywhere else on the estate. It’s would be a good place to hide, if you get into trouble. I don’t think most people even remember it’s up there. And I know for a fact that one of the sets of shutters is open a crack so you could easily access it from the outside.”
“Thank you.” I hadn’t seen a cupola when I’d been outside, but the whole house was such a weird blending of architectural styles that it didn’t surprised me. And it was good to know a nearby hiding spot, so if things didn’t go my way, I could quickly to ground. “And now I need to go to see what I can squeeze out of your uncle.”
She nodded and then said in a whisper, “I hope I never see you again.”
As I headed downstairs to speak with Alfred, I tried to concoct some type of plan that wouldn’t reveal how I’d regained my memory. Misty deserved my loyalty, and I was going to damn well make sure she had it. But I had to at least try to get what information I could out of Alfred. If I got nothing from him, then I could always tap into the undead gossip network. I knew plenty of members of the undead who always had their ears to the ground. But that would take time and that was something I didn’t want to squander on subtlety and whispers. I didn’t even want to think about what kind of tests some quack undead doctor who hadn’t practiced medicine for the last hundred years would try to run on my darling girl. I couldn’t think of such things. I had to shove them from my mind or I wouldn’t be able to control myself and I would end betraying Misty.
“Come in,” a voiced barked after I knocked at the library door. As luck would have it, Alfred was alone, pouring over some paperwork as he sat at a desk. “Oh, Dorian,” he said. “Come in. I was just thinking of you. Have a seat.”
A second later, he realized his flub. He looked me dead in the eye and I met his gaze. I knew I needed to say something to correct his actually using my real name. I opened my mouth, but it was too late. “You know,” he said, half rising from his chair. “You’ve remembered.”
It was too late for me to deny anything. Alfred darted over and began pulling on a bell cord for all he was worth. “He knows!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs. “Security! Dorian Vanderlind knows who he is! His memory has returned! I need security, now! “
I dove for the window, grateful that it was open, but Alfred was hard upon me, grabbing one of my feet and trying to haul me back inside. I kicked him in the face with all my strength. He still managed to cling to my boot. I wrenched my foot free and took off, streaking across the sky and plunging into the woods.
As soon as I knew I was deep enough into the trees to be concealed from the house, I made a sharp right, cutting the through the cover as fast as I could go. When I got to the edge of the woods, I sunk to the ground and skimmed across the grass of an open field, arcing across the property until I was concealed by another patch of trees. There I popped up and took a look around. I could see at least half a dozen members of the undead, hovering above the woods where I’d first disappeared, looking for me. The figures included a woman in a dress, who I assumed was Misty, feigning to be helpful.
Sinking into my cover again, I kept flying in a wide circle until I was on the far side of the house. I didn’t see any activity through the windows, so I skimmed along the lawn toward the house until I was pressed right up against the building. Then I rose up in the air, keeping against the side of the house and skirting around the windows, until I reached the top.
Misty’s information was good. There was a small room at the top of the Victorian portion of the manor, and the shutters to one of the windows had been left open just an inch. I slipped inside and had the shutters pulled closed behind me in an instant.
The room was tiny, barely even wide enough for me to fully lie down. There was a trapdoor taking up a full one-quarter of the floor, which I assumed led to the attic. The room must have had some use from back fifty years before I was turned, but I was having trouble thinking of its function. Astronomy observation, perhaps. There was no large body of water nearby, so it couldn’t have been used for ship spotting. I decided that I didn’t exactly care about its formed use; it would serve as a suitable hiding place for the daylights hours. The next evening I would be able to make my escape with far less chance of being caught. But for the moment, I had a lot of time on my hands with nothing to do, but think.
Chapter 17
Dorian
Half way through the day, just as my stomach was really starting to growl, a noise from the attic caught my attention. Someone was down there, creeping around. My watch said it was full on noon, so there was nowhere for me to run. I had no weapon to defend myself. The idea of sitting on the trapdoor and trying to bar entry just felt too undignified to attempt. And so I simply waited, ready to fight, but fully expecting that whoever was coming for me would have one of those zapper devices to erase my memory again.
The trap door lifted a few inches and a corked bottle appeared, followed by another bottle, a goblet, and then a silver flask. The door gently sunk back into place after that and the soft footsteps faded into nothing.
The fact that Misty was willing to risk exposure to help me caused me feel even more grateful. I had to find a way to help her, once Haley was safe. Honor demanded it. I quickly availed myself of first bottle, planning on filling my belly with the second bottle right before sunset. The flask was obviously to keep me going on the road.
With the pains of hunger becoming less of a distraction with every time I took a sip, I sunk into a corner to think. I needed to find Haley. In order to do that, I needed to find out who was after Haley. In order to do that, I had to find Elaina. But she could be anywhere in the world; probably in the furthest corner of the world, if she knew what was good for her. She had to have known that my memory would eventually return and that I would start hunting for her. But where the hell would she be hiding? I wanted to howl with frustration.
After an interminable amount of time, the sun finally started to set in the sky. I quickly polished off the second bottle, and then gathered the flask, as well as the bottles and the goblet, so that I would be absolutely ready as soon as the last of the sun’s ray disappeared from the horizon.
As soon as I was physically able to leave my little hideout without too much physical pain, I slipped out the window, quietly closing the shutters behind me. My skin still sizzled a little in the twilight, but it was a bearable pain. I then rose straight up in the air, above the house as high as I could go. With a three-hundred-and-sixty degree view, I was able to orient myself as to where I might find the local, mortal population. There was a gathering of buildings off to the north that looked to be the center of a small town. I headed there with no further delay, keeping as high in the sky as possible. I doubted any hunting party was out to find me yet, with the sun scarcely having left the sky, but even if they were, it was unlikely that anyone would look so high up into the air. Vampires didn’t normally skim across the ground, but we also usually didn’t fly much higher than the treetops.
I descended from the sky into an alleyway, around the corner from what appeared to be the town’s one and only bar. I knew that a man with a few bottles worth of beer in his belly was just as likely to use a neighboring alley to relieve himself as he was the gents. So it was only a matter of time before I could introduce myself to one of the mortal population.
“Ain’t
you a little too pretty to be out here all alone?” a male voice asked.
I immediately felt my hackles rise. Some drunk had obviously decided to harass some poor female who had been foolish enough to enter the alley alone. Well, it would be a lucky night for the woman and an unlucky night for the scoundrel because I was in no mood for bad behavior. I glanced around the alley in search of my prey.
“That’s right, I’m talkin’ to you, sugar lips,” the voice said. I could smell the stench of body odor and cheap cologne. “I was waiting for something special to come along and I guess you’re it.”
Slowly I turned around to see two eyes staring at me from some sort of hiding place. “Excuse me?” I said realizing this concealment was why I hadn’t detected the mortal immediately.
“Oh, you don’t need an excuse, pretty boy,” the man said, stepping out from a small crevice between two building. He was a tall and lanky mortal somewhere in his fifties, if I had to guess. But he’d had a life of hard-living that made his skin look as weathered as untreated leather, and his eyes as bloodshot and drooping as a basset hounds. He would have made a fine caricature of a ruined life for an illustration to a Charles Dickens novel.
The man moved a little toward me. His eyes were filled with both hatred and desire, which probably made most people uncomfortable when confronted by them, even in broad daylight. But I wasn’t most people.
“Do you happen to have one of those cell phones?” I asked. The fellow was so unsavory that I wasn’t even tempted to drink from him, but he’d already initiated a conversation of sorts, so I thought I might as well see if he could be useful.
My new friend chuckled to himself. “Yeah, I got me a phone. You want to borrow it? You in trouble or somethin’?”
“Yes, I would like to borrow it,” I told him, trying to decide if I’d been too quick to pass judgement on my new friend. I was usually pretty good at assessing mortals.