by L. C. Davis
“And who am I?” I asked carefully. “Who am I meant to be?”
Her laugh was soft and musical in my ear, but it held a certain malevolence. “You are the last true child of night, my love. The harbinger of peace or eternal chaos. You've been called by a hundred different names in a hundred different cultures, but the only one you need to worry your pretty little head about now is the prince of the vampires.”
I turned to face her, reluctantly looking away from my captive tormentor. “Prince?”
“For lack of a better term,” she said with a serene smile. “Once your power is unlocked and nurtured under my guidance, nothing will be able to stop our little family from returning to the throne that was always rightfully ours.”
“So you are just here to use me.” I wasn't sure why I was surprised that her actions were leading towards anything else, or why I had thought that she gathered these people because they had hurt me rather than simply because they served some twisted means to an end for her. “You just want whatever it is in my head that was powerful enough to lock away all these years so you can use it in some political vampire war I have no part in.”
“That's not true,” she said, cupping my face in her hands. “See for yourself.”
I hesitated, not sure I wanted to see what was in that mind. Curiosity and perhaps need took over and I let her guide me into my mind. The first vision she showed me was of a much younger version of herself lying on the bed of a dilapidated hotel room, holding a writhing infant in her arms.
The girl – she wasn't yet a woman – had tears streaming down her face as she sang a hushed lullaby. “There has to be another way, Saban,” she said to the tall man standing near her bedside. It took me only a moment to recognize him as the man from the airplane.
“It's the best thing for him, Sarah. You know what Augustus will do if he sees him. We've waited far too long as it is,” he said in an urgent whisper. He walked over to the makeshift bedside with outstretched arms. “Please. You must give him to me before it's too late.”
“No,” said the girl, pressing her palm gently on the infant's head. “I have to make sure none of them will know what he is until the right time. Not even him.”
The infant's cries gained new vigor and his tiny fists thrashed in rage. His mother's eyes took on a glazed look for a long moment before she returned to herself and began trying to soothe the cries she had caused only moments before.
“Sarah,” Saban whispered, looking towards the door. “Please.”
Sarah held the infant close, pressing a soft kiss against his forehead before she passed him into Saban's arms. “Bye, little one. This is the last gift I can give to you, until the day we meet again. Your uncle Saban will take you somewhere safe and warm, far from this place. You'll see.”
Saban carried the infant to the door, only to be stopped when she cried out, “You tell them his name is Remus!” Her hand pressed against her stomach, still swollen from recently giving birth. “He will know his name.”
The man's head dipped low. “Yes, sister,” he murmured, before leaving her alone in the hotel room. Her quiet sobs faded into what felt like laughter. I was still reeling from the first vision – or was it really a memory – when suddenly I was transported to a ballroom so lavish it made the Alderdice Hotel look like a flea infested motel off the interstate.
Champaign. Chandeliers. The most exquisite collection of men and women who had ever been gathered in a room, all draped in silks and brocades in a variety of rich hues, were dancing and mingling on the floor. A jazz band played with precise timing and a world of soul. Everything was warmth, bliss, electric energy buzzing as if something truly spectacular were going to happen at any moment.
And then it did. The band started playing a different tune, one far more regal than lively. Everyone took note of the silver thrones on the center of the stage and turned to focus on the doors behind them. Applause thundered and the partygoers lifted glasses of some red nectar as they welcomed the guests of honor.
It was me and Sarah. She was wearing a golden strapless gown, looking the part of a Hollywood starlet from the early thirties. I was draped in a flowing silver suit, smiling proudly and looking the part of a proper prince as I shook hands with the guests I passed. I couldn't help but notice the shape of two razor sharp fangs pushing my upper lip out slightly.
The scene was gone in an instant and flickered to the forests. I was no longer watching myself but rather watching the trees and brush fly by as I ran. I caught a flash of red up ahead. It was her. Together, we were stalking some unseen prey.
A man in his early twenties came into view, a camper who wore tattered clothes with bloodstains and looked behind him constantly as he ran. Most of the blood wasn't his, it was from the camp sight we had left in a state of disarray. The fear in his eyes was from what he had seen us do to his friends.
For the very first time, I realized that fear had a scent also. It was intoxicating. He darted out of my path only to be blocked when Sarah appeared in front of him, cutting him off. She gave me an approving nod and I saw her smile as I lunged, taking the camper down with ease even though he was more than three times my size.
He screamed as I sank my fangs into his neck but the warm blood pulsing into my mouth gurgled in his throat and muffled the sound moments later. I drank until his heart stopped, but it wasn't enough. There was no more hunger in me, but the thirst lingered and burned long after I had reached my physical limit.
I lifted my head and it was the sight of his cold, limp body with wide open, vacant eyes that brought me back to my senses. I tossed his body away from me and fell back in horror. A trembling hand touched my face and came back with more blood than skin visible.
“No!!” I screamed, scrambling back through the dirt until I hit a tree. I clawed at the bark and managed to pull myself up even though I could no longer feel my own legs.
Sarah appeared in front of me, hands on her hips, scowling in disappointment. “You can't resist a low-level psychic's clearance bin mind control to save yourself from agony, but you'll fight to the death to avoid spilling a single drop of blood, won't you? Unless of course it's your own.”
She smirked. “Even when you were an infant, you gave me a hell of a fight. But I've had a lot of years to practice and you're even weaker than you were then. If you can't see the beauty in what I'm offering you, I'll just have to help you see the big picture.”
I clutched my head as I felt her cloying at my mind again. “Stop it!” I screamed, straining against her. I fell to my knees and felt my mind being pried open like a shell.
Victor's words rang in my mind. “Just think of a big wall rising from the ground, making them bounce off of it.” It had worked on him. Maybe it would work on her, too.
I stopped resisting for a moment and let my hands fall to my sides as I tried to cement the image I needed. The ground began to tremble and Sarah started shouting threats, but I stayed focused and tried to ignore her. Soon enough, the top of a huge stone wall began to split the earth between us and I felt her vice grip on my mind weaken.
The wall climbed until it looked as if it must be touching the sky. Green vines clung to it and wove throughout its cracks, but the wall remained strong.
All at once, I felt her release me and her carefully crafted mother-son bonding experience bottomed out. I fell through it into a dark tunnel that dropped me suddenly and painfully through the ground. When I opened my eyes, I was in the stage, still clutching the stake in my hand.
Victor was still there, still okay if frozen. He was watching me with an expression I could only read as awe. The crowd watched in similar astonishment. The Alderdices were still and silent for once. Sarah was nowhere in sight.
“She's unconscious,” Victor whispered, rushing over to me. I clung desperately to him. I finally located Sarah on the stage. She was lying on her side in an awkward position she had clearly fallen into. Her expression was far too serene for her to be conscious.
“We h
ave to run,” I said, taking his hand. If he was free of her spell, that meant that it was only a matter of time a room full of vampires who had happily watched me being tormented realized that they were, too.
Victor remained immovable, his gaze locked on Sarah. “I don't know what you did, but there's a good chance we'll never get this opportunity again.”
“Victor,” I said, wary of the tone edging into his voice. “Please, let's just run while we can.”
“She'll hunt you down,” he murmured. “She won't stop, not her. I got a glimpse into her mind when she was controlling me, just a glimpse. She can't be allowed to continue on, not with what she's capable of. Not with what she's planning.”
“Victor, please,” I begged, trying to pull him.
“Run,” he ordered, pushing me away. He grabbed the stake from my hand and took a step forward. In an instant, he was in front of her. He kicked her onto her back and his arm reared back, grasping the weapon tightly.
“No!” I screamed, putting myself between them. I flinched as the stake came to a stop just before it hit my heart.
He gave me a look of confusion and bewilderment. “She's not your mother, Remus. She gave birth to you, nothing more. She's done nothing but use you all this time.”
“Maybe, but that doesn't mean she deserves to die,” I insisted.
He sighed. “Whatever you saw in her mind, it was a lie. This woman is never going to stop until you're under her control. Completely.”
“I don't care!” My heart clenched as I remembered my own role in that last vision. “The thing that makes her like this is inside me, too. It's part of me, just as much as being a wolf. I felt it. The fact that she suppressed that side of me is probably the only reason I'm not her.”
He lowered the stake reluctantly and tilted my chin towards him. “You're not her because you're not. Period.”
“If I let you kill her, I will be,” I said firmly, refusing to break eye contact.
His jaw clenched in frustration but he grabbed my hand and looked back at the stage with unadulterated rage as he dragged me towards the stairs.
“Isn't that sweet?”
We both froze as her voice rang out form behind us. When I turned, she was already on her feet, wiping the lip that had been split in her fall.
“Your boyfriend is right though, sweetie. You should listen to him more. He is the smart one,” she said, stalking towards us. “You won't get another chance like that.”
I backed against Victor. He was rigid, like a statue. I turned around to find him completely frozen in place and screamed as I backed further up the stairs.
“I tried to follow all the parenting blogs, I really did. Use positive reinforcement, they said. Well, it doesn't work.” She brushed off her gown and walked over to Victor, prying the stake out of his hand. It made a horrible twisting, straining sound that made my stomach churn, not unlike the creaking of an old ship.
“Please, stop! You're hurting him!”
“No. He's a bad influence. Finish your chores and I'll think about letting you have him back. Or maybe I'll use him to hang coats. He'd look great by my entryway,” she mused.
“I saved your life,” I said, disgusted.
She gave me a look. “That Pollyanna attitude is exactly the kind of thing I'm talking about. I'm very disappointed in you.”
She switched gears again and gave me a sugary sweet smile as she offered me the stake. “Remember, unless you want me to chip a few key elements off your faithful hound, I'd learn to follow instructions.”
I gripped the stake, shuddering with rage.
A sharp gasp echoed behind me and I spun to see that Victor was free, for the moment. He stayed where he was, panting.
“Oh, and the kill switch is still in place, so if you try anything funny, you'll be putting your dog down with a wooden shot.”
“I won't,” I muttered.
“Better not. Now, what did I ask you to do?”
I swallowed hard. “Kill him.”
“Good listener. Now, we're already well into the harvest moon and I've got a ritual that isn't even half done, so get moving. Chop chop. If you could kill that innocent camper, surely you can kill your own rapist?”
I stood in front of Mr. Alderdice, but the anger-fueled desire to use the stake was gone. His scream was muffled by the tape as I raised the stake above his heart, my hand trembling.
This time, Victor was silent. He was right, I wouldn't be able to live with myself after this, but I wouldn't be able to live at all if my fucked up moral compass led to his death. If there was even a chance of that, the Alderdices had to die. Even if the only part of me that remained good and human had to die along with them.
I closed my eyes and pictured another wall. This one wasn't to keep out Sarah or Victor, though. It was to keep the part of me in that would get in the way of what I was about to do. It was ironically the part of me that needed it to be done the most.
“Remus, no-” Victor choked.
It was too late. Not that I would have listened. I stared in wide-eyed fixation as the stake sat in Mr. Alderdice's chest. At first there was no blood, only his screams. The stake felt like it was locked inside something when I tried to pull it out, but it came on the third try. So did the blood.
I learned that night that when a vampire is staked, they react as any human might for a few strange moments. Then, their skin begins to take on a dull, grayish shade. Next, the lungs seize up and a few desperate gasps later, their eyes grow dim. Jeff had been so badly eviscerated that it was hard to see the difference as clearly as watching it happen right in front of you.
It had been surprisingly easy, the doing of the thing. I wondered if that was how murder always felt. There was no relief or closure or grief. Maybe I was just too numb to feel any of it, but the fear was gone. When I looked down, my blood soaked hand wasn't shaking anymore.
Good. That would make the next thing easier.
“Exemplary,” Sarah murmured, almost inaudible. For the first time since I'd met her, her praise seemed genuine. “Now her.”
I turned to Mrs. Alderdice who had grown hoarse from screaming. It was strange to see her looking so helpless now. I would only ever be able to see her as the woman who had stood sipping a cocktail while she watched her husband bled me dry, body and soul.
The memory made it easier to stave off the nagging feeling that was clawing at the edges of the numbness. I was starting to forget what the word for it was.
“Remember, this woman-” Sarah began.
“Please don't do this-” Mr. Alderdice pleaded for what was probably the first time in her life and definitely the last.
The crunch of the stake driving through sinew and flesh silenced them. I pulled the stake out and let it drip on the pristine marble floor. Blood cleaned off it well.
After all, I would know.
30
I couldn't look at Victor even though he was now free to move around. It wasn't his condemnation I feared but his pity. I knew it would be waiting for me the moment I looked into his eyes, and I couldn't stomach it. Not now.
Sarah had called the rest of her troupe out, or at least all the ones who were there. Saban watched me with a surprisingly sympathetic gaze and the one who had given me the drugged rose in the airport kept making off color jokes about the whole thing. The only other woman in the group said nothing at all but kept a watchful eye on Victor and I the entire time.
They were all drinking and having a grand time while the vampires watched us from the dance floor. One of the heavily controlled waiters walked by the edge of the stage where we were sitting with a tray of wine and I grabbed one. I waited for Victor to protest when I guzzled the entire thing, but he didn't say a word.
The horrible ritual was over, for now. I didn't know whether Sarah was planning on letting the few dozen vampires in the Alderdices' clan go or not, but I wasn't allowing myself to think of it then.
“I know you don't want me to ask how you're feeling, but-”
>
“So don't,” I said, dropping the empty glass of the stage. It shattered, and a few vampires Sarah had compelled to dance stepped aside and carried on like nothing was wrong.
“Fair enough,” he sighed. “I'm so sorry, Remus. I failed you once again.”
“You didn't fail me,” I told him, snapping at the waiter to bring me another drink. He looked do Sarah, who nodded, and came over. I took the entire tray. Once another glass of wine was settled in my stomach, I continued, “I failed myself, but there was nothing you could have done.”
“If I had-”
“If you had made yourself a nuisance, she would have killed you,” I told him. “I'm never going to be able to forgive myself for what I did tonight, but that doesn't mean I regret it.” And I hadn't. Not even for an instant.
“I wish I could have protected you from this,” he murmured, draping an arm over my shoulder.
I leaned into him, reluctant to accept the comfort. I wish I could say it was because I didn't feel I deserved it, but the numbness made me feel strangely stiff.
“They're disgusting,” he muttered. I turned to see that he was watching the sea of vampires with a predatory gaze.
I took another drink. “Not in the daytime. That one,” I said, pointing to a tall, slender brunette. “She's head of the PTA. Him?” I gestured to the stocky white-haired man in the corner who would never have passed for a vampire. “He's on the city's ethics committee. His son is a doctor.”
“Masquerading as something you aren't to conceal your hidden darkness is just more disgusting,” he muttered.
“Maybe,” I said. “Maybe that's all we are.”
“You're not one of them,” he insisted.
“No. I'm one of Sarah's family now,” I said listlessly. “I'm not sure that's much better.”
“You're not a vampire, Remus. You're only half vampire, but you're half wolf, too. You belong to our pack,” he insisted. “That hasn't changed.”