by Rain Oxford
“No, of course not.” He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing for a minute. When he reopened his eyes, his expression was very peaceful. “I don’t know where you’re from, but small towns are communities. Everyone knows everyone and we take care of each other. I care about the kids who have run away. We’re doing the best we can to make sure more don’t leave.”
“What are you doing to prevent that?”
He hesitated, apparently confused as to why I would ask. “The school is offering counseling to every student, as well as the families involved. Pictures of the children are all over the internet and the police of every city around are on the lookout.”
“Have any of the children tried to call their families?”
“No.”
“How many officers are on the case?”
“Just me.”
“Just you?” Logan asked.
“We’re understaffed.”
“Sure you are.” Logan pulled the coin, now in a clear plastic sack, out of his pocket and set it on the table. “Do you recognize this, Officer Lewis?”
The cop swallowed subtly. “No.” He was lying.
Logan smiled, causing the cop to shudder. It wasn’t a cruel grin, but there was definitely something threatening about it. “Is that so? Well, in that case, we will leave you to your card game.” He stood and pulled a business card out of his pocket. “If you find out any more information, give me a call.”
The cop took it, relieved. I understood his relief; Logan may have been human, but he was intense. That was rare and made him much more interesting. Although I had more questions for the cop, Logan was clearly up to something. Besides, I knew I could return without Logan later if I needed to. We left.
“That is a very useful skill you have,” Logan said once we were outside.
I decided not to tell him what all I could do with my thrall in case I needed to use it on him. “Did you actually get anything from that?”
“I got quite a lot of information.” He pulled three files out from inside of his jacket. “For example, I now know where two of the children went missing.” He didn’t even look at it before handing it to me.
“You snagged this while I was walking away?”
“No, I took it while you were distracting him with your bosom. You do make an excellent distraction, Ms. Ares.”
I laughed. “Maybe I’m not useless here. I’m impressed, and I don’t think anyone has impressed me in a long time. But I still don’t trust you.”
His expression was patient, almost humorous. “You would do well not to. Lilly said in her letter that there were four kids missing. Obviously, someone is wrong. We’ll meet at your motel room.”
“Do you know where the motel is?”
“Yes. I haven’t gotten a chance to rent a room yet, but I know where it is.”
I told him the room number, got in my car, and drove back to the motel. Arriving before Logan, I turned on the heater and laid the files out on the desk. Logan arrived soon after and we started right in on the files.
The first child who went missing was a nine-year-old boy named Kenneth with short, light brown hair and dark brown eyes. He didn’t have problems with anyone and he didn’t have long-lost relatives after him. His mother had entered his room to wake him and found him missing instead. She called all his friends and the school before calling the police. There was no sign of anything strange, at least not that the cops thought to write down. There was, however, a short letter, scribbled with a child’s handwriting.
Mom and dad
Im tired of your fighting. im leaving to find my real parents.
“He was adopted? Why didn’t the police put that in their report?” I asked.
“They must not have thought it was relevant. Obviously, it was important to him. I wonder if he just recently discovered it.”
“If they lied to him for nine years, it would explain him running away.”
“The truth can be harder to live with than a lie,” Logan said thoughtfully. “The officer may not have included it in the report because this is such a small town and he didn’t feel like he needed to. Maybe he was being lazy, or maybe he wanted to protect the parents’ dignity.”
Phobos got up and sniffed Logan’s pockets.
“Woah, little guy, I don’t know you that well,” Logan said, his tone a little friendlier than usual.
I laughed. “His show is on commercial. He probably wants pizza.”
“And he’s sticking his nose in my pockets because…?”
“He’s asking you to call for delivery because he doesn’t want to miss his show to go get it. Go away, Phobos. We’ll get something later.” He grumbled and hopped back on the bed.
Logan took off his jacket and vest, leaving only his white shirt, black pants, and gun. He didn’t have the physique of a shopkeeper. Then again, I didn’t know any other merchant who dealt with the occult.
“Is there a lot of business in the occult these days?” I asked. “I thought most humans didn’t like magic very much.”
Logan laughed. “My clientele are not all human. Furthermore, there are a lot of humans who want magic, at least the sparkly, rainbow, flowers, and puppies side of it.”
“I take it that’s not what you sell.”
“Magic comes with a price, and the greater the power, the greater the price. The items that interest me are not for the faint of heart. Most days are mundane, as I sell general occult items in my shop. Customers have to ask for the darker artifacts by name, especially since these particular artifacts are unique and priceless. There is not as much business for that, but the high price makes up for it. I specialize in quality over quantity.”
“So you sell things like bat’s blood and cat bones as normal day stuff and then you peddle Pandora’s Box and genie lamps secretly?”
He smirked. “Close. There is high and low magic, and low magic can be further categorized as old and modern. High magic, or theurgy, is ritual magic, like with circles and ceremonial robes. Summoning the powers of a god or talking to the angels would be high magic. Low magic, also called thaumaturgy, is doing spells, potions, fortune-telling, and such. It’s more practical in many instances.”
“Is low magic less powerful?”
“No, not always, but yes, in a way.”
“What?”
“There are many different kinds of magic, and natural wizards can do it all if they put in the effort to learn. Humans who learn to do magic are a lot more limited, but they can still do high magic. In fact most natural wizards only do low, modern magic these days. Old low magic, involving things like animal bones and sacrificial daggers, can be staggeringly powerful, even if it is a human using it. Modern low magic is more likely to involve things like powdered ingredients for potions and crystals for predictions. This means that, although magic comes more easily to natural wizards, humans who study old magic could actually be more powerful.”
“So you’re an expert in the paranormal?”
“I know magic, but not much about paranormals themselves.”
“I know paranormals, but not much about magic. I knew the doll was witchcraft, of course. That was obvious.” Although I considered offering to share some of my knowledge of paranormals, it wasn’t the time. I returned my attention to the files.
The second child to go missing was a twelve-year-old girl named Andrea, who had black hair and dark eyes. She lived with her single mother and never fought with anyone. The description on her was even less than the one on Kenneth. There was also no proof that she was a runaway.
Then there was Lilly. She was twelve years old, blond with blue eyes, and a perfect student with excellent grades and behavior. Her mother said she wasn’t the type of person to run away, but there was a runaway letter.
I’m tired of the lies, so I’m running away.
Logan leaned back in his chair. “That’s not Lilly’s letter.”
“It’s her handwriting.”
He sighed. “I didn’t know about
the other children when I came here. I owe Lilly’s mother, Meredith, a favor.”
“You were a family friend?”
“Something like that.”
Things weren’t adding up. How did Lilly find out about Astrid? Why didn’t she just call Logan for help? I knew Logan was hiding something, even though I couldn’t smell his emotions, which just made me more suspicious.
I considered using my thrall on him, but he had showed me the coin and shared the files on the kids, so it was better to have him on my side than against me. More importantly, Deimos and Phobos trusted him, and they never steered me wrong before. “When was the last time you saw her?”
“About five years ago. This is Lilly’s handwriting, but a letter from her would be much longer. More importantly, although Lilly had a lot of issues with her parents, she would not have run away.”
“What kind of issues?”
“Issues that will not help us to find her.”
Informative as always. “Does she have any other family?”
“No.”
I pulled out the letter she wrote to Astrid. “I don’t think this is a case of runaways any more than you do. Maybe someone forced her to write the letter.”
He absentmindedly pet Deimos when Deimos leaned over Logan’s lap to check out the files. “I’m thinking so. Magic can forge someone’s handwriting, but it is exceedingly difficult, and it would require so much power that you would be able to smell it on the paper. Lilly is smart; she would have left clues… which the police probably contaminated.”
“I’m surprised they didn’t find the coin and doll. It could also be that she wrote the letter so the cops wouldn’t investigate.”
“I need another look around in Lilly’s house. These cops don’t know what the hell they’re doing. They probably didn’t look past the letter on her desk. We need to find out what connects the kids. They’re different ages, genders, and economical statuses.”
“Maybe they’re in a school group or club. We should talk to their parents.”
* * *
“So, do you have exceptional senses?” Logan asked. Instead of driving, we decided to walk to Kenneth’s house.
“My senses are a little better than a human’s but nothing amazing. I can hear slightly higher pitches than humans and I can smell blood and human emotions extremely well.”
“You can smell what I’m feeling?”
“Actually, I’m not getting much from you. I wonder why that is.”
He pulled a cloth pouch out of his jacket pocket. “I don’t go anywhere without this; it helps to cover my tracks.”
“Witchcraft?”
“Yes. Some of my regular customers exchange potions and spells instead of money for ingredients and other occult items. What about sunlight? Can you go out on cloudy days?”
I wasn’t convinced, but I was willing to let it go for the moment. “Anything that can give a human a sunburn can kill me, and you can get a sunburn on a cloudy day. However, I don’t burst into ash instantly like in the movies. If the clouds are thick enough, or the sun is low enough, I can be exposed for a short time. I’ve never pushed it before. I have a friend… another vampire… who has somehow overcome it. Of course, even if I wasn’t in direct sunlight, I would still be pretty much useless.”
“Why?”
“I wouldn’t be able to open my eyes. I have more rods in my retina and my pupils hyper-dilate when it’s necessary, which allows me to see much better in the dark. The tradeoff is that light hurts my eyes more easily. I also tend to overlook things that aren’t moving. A human has a very narrow field of focus, which picks up detail. Their peripheral vision picks up movement. It’s a defense mechanism. My vision, like shifter vision, is more focused on movement than color or fine detail.”
“So, you need glasses?”
“It doesn’t bother me.”
“Can you drink animal blood?”
I scoffed. “No, we can’t. However, I don’t have to drink from a living body, like some of the movies suggest; I can drink out of a bag or bottle. There is even synthetic blood we can drink now. Of course, we prefer the real stuff.”
“Are your fangs retractable?”
“No. Some vampires file them down, though. I’ve heard some ancient vampires can retract them, I just don’t believe it.”
“How old are you?”
“Now that’s a rude question.”
“Alright. I’ll guess that you’re a hundred then.”
“I’m thirty-two.”
“You’re a little baby!”
“Bitch.”
“Sorry. I meant no offence, Ms. Ares. I just expected you to be older. Were you born a vampire?”
“No, I was turned.” Vampires were the only paranormals that could be turned; humans could not be made into wizards, shifters, or fae. Despite that, there were no more of us than any of the other paranormals. It was probably because we had two serious weaknesses that the others didn’t; sunlight was deadly and we had to feed on human blood.
“Was it tragic or did you ask for this life?”
“You’re awfully inquisitive.”
“I like to know a little about the people I work with. Also, I’m curious.”
I shrugged. “Fine, but you have to answer my questions in return.” He nodded. “I died, it was painful, and I didn’t ask to be turned.”
“Well, that is terribly vague. How did you die?”
“It’s a long story.”
“We have time.”
“First, tell me why you weren’t afraid when you realized what I was.”
“I wasn’t afraid because I’ve met a number of your kind and I’ve learned how to deal with them.”
“You’ve met a lot of vampires?”
“No; I meant women.”
I laughed.
* * *
It was a warm, sunny day in 1996 when my childhood ended. I was twelve, and the worst thing I had to worry about was the school pictures the next day. I left my room when I heard my dad in the kitchen and found him with a pack of cold hot dogs and frozen biscuits. He wasn’t the healthiest eater.
He was five-nine, very slender, with shaggy brown hair and silver/gray eyes.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Morning,” he answered. “Don’t you have school?”
“It’s four in the afternoon. You said we could go to the park today.”
“We will. I just have to finish my project, and that should only take another hour. Then we’ll have all the time in the world.”
He was always working. We moved all over the country for his work, so I never let myself get attached to anything. When people asked me what he did, I just told them he was a scientist, although I really didn’t know what that entailed. All he said was that it wasn’t safe.
“Really?”
He smiled at me. “Definitely.”
“You work too much.”
“I know, but once I finish this project, it’ll be different. Now, I’m going to get back to work. Get ready to go to the park.”
I nodded and watched him walk down the stairs. His laboratory in our last house was much fancier, but we had moved very quickly and didn’t have a lot of time to find a nice one. My father couldn’t stand apartments because he didn’t like other people or noise. I had to walk quietly so that I didn’t disturb him. He was a fantastic father, except that he cared too much about his work. Once he got started on a project, I rarely saw him again until it was done.
About an hour later, I heard a knock on the door. Thinking it was someone coming to welcome us to the neighborhood, I got up and answered it. Even though there was nothing suspicious about the young man and woman standing on the porch, I studied their car parked in the driveway like my father taught me. I couldn’t see their license plate, but I would be able to describe the silver Corvette.
They were both in their early twenties. The man was about six-foot, blond with medium brown eyes and a mole beside his left eye. The woman was about five-four an
d had auburn hair and hazel eyes.
“Hello, Aurora,” the woman said. I didn’t say anything. “I bet you don’t remember me,” she continued, still smiling despite the awkwardness. “The last time I saw you, you were only two.”
Still, I stayed silent. She frowned at the man.
“We’re friends of your dad’s. I’m Joshua, and this is my wife, Janet. We were neighbors when you lived in California, and since we were in the area, we thought we’d stop by and say hello.”
“My dad is working,” I said.
“Well, I’m sure he can take a little while off to visit with old friends.”
I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t think my father would take even a minute off work, but I didn’t know he had friends at all. If someone told my friends to leave, I would have been upset… well, if I had any friends. Still, I really didn’t want to let them in. “I can’t let anyone in, so come back when he’s not working.” I started to shut the door, but Joshua stopped it easily and threw it open.
I froze in shock until Janet tried to grab me. Without realizing what I was doing, I took off running into the kitchen, opened the basement door, went in, and locked it behind me. I hadn’t even made it down the stairs before they were banging on the door. When I did reach the bottom, however, I froze again. My dad wasn’t there. Every piece of equipment, every glass object, and every sheet of paper… was destroyed. Everything was destroyed. Liquids were spilled everywhere, every surface was covered in broken glass, and the chair was on its side.
I didn’t even move when Joshua and Janet made it through the door.
“Where is he?!” Joshua yelled.
I didn’t know.
Joshua put his hand over my mouth and picked me up around the middle, so I fought. I didn’t know what was going on, who these people were, or what was going to happen to me, but I fought. At least until Janet hit me with something hard, causing the world to spin and grow dark.
Chapter 3
“You died when you were twelve?”
“Sometimes I wish. No, the story’s a lot longer than that, but I’m pretty sure this is the place.” The house was a decent, two story residence with a large porch. It was painted a sort of tan color with dark trim.