“And what about me? Are there any like me?”
“I’ve only met one other like you,” he answered after a moment of hesitation.
“What happened to him?” Did she really ask that? Not that she didn’t want to know, or thought she should know, but just the coldness of her own voice startled her. Even Monk seemed surprised as he stopped and faced her before he answered.
“Since you are with Braughton now,” he said slowly, “I assume he no longer is.” He eyed her a moment longer in silence, then said, “We’re almost there,” before taking off again down the hall.
“Where exactly are we going?”
He didn’t immediately answer, instead walking silently for a few moments before stopping in front of a plain wooden door. He fished a large metal key out of his robe, placed it in the door, and looked back at Elizabeth.
“This order was founded over a thousand years ago for a single purpose: ridding this world of the vampire. Our ranks were filled with courageous and strong warriors who battled these demons head-on for nearly four hundred years. Then, something changed.” He turned the key in the lock, producing an audible click, then returned it to his robe. “The tide turned, and our enemy was nearly successful in erasing us from existence. Records from those years are scarce and scattered. What emerged on the other side of that dark time was a weak, frightened, and hunted group of scholars, focused only on collecting and recording. We are now all that remain of our once grand order, and this,” he pushed open the door, revealing a large library filled with books and parchments, “is all that remains of the knowledge we have on the vampire.”
She imagined she could spend several lifetimes in here and still not read it all. Not to mention, an open manuscript on a table suggested volumes were still being added. “Is this where Braughton spends most of his time?” she asked as she began leafing through the random volumes spread about the tables.
“No, what he’s looking for isn’t here.” Elizabeth paused and looked back at him with raised eyebrows. “He’s looking for those lost centuries.”
“Why?”
Monk hesitated. After a moment of indecision, he said, “Braughton has memories of being a boy, but there’s a gap of nearly three centuries that are nothing more than splashes of bloody violence in his memory. The first clear memory he has in adulthood is being found by a Brother of the Order on a snow-covered mountainside. The missing history of the Order is parallel to his own missing past.”
“Not even he knows what he is then,” she said quietly, but Monk heard her.
“So it would seem.” He moved back to the open door, and stepped out into the hall. “I have dishes that still need my attention, but you may remain here as long as you wish. No one will disturb you.”
“One more thing, before you go. Is there anything in here about me, and my predecessors?”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not.” The disappointment on her face made him reconsider. “But,” he added with a raised finger, “I can tell you what little I’ve seen.” She nodded her head, anxious to learn anything. “Don’t get too excited, it’s not really that much,” he advised. “From what I can tell, you’re still mostly human.”
“Mostly?” She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that.
“Sure. You still need the basics of human existence – eat, drink, sleep – but you need much less of them. You can be harmed, and even killed, but you heal at a much faster rate. Your senses are sharpened, and you will be faster and stronger than before. Overall, not a bad deal.”
Deal? Implying she was giving up something. “What’s the catch?”
Monk laughed and simply stared at her for a moment. “The ‘catch’ is you are bound to Braughton for the rest of your life.”
“So, I’m a slave.”
“I wouldn’t say that at all. Think of it more as a partnership.” He winked and added, “Although admittedly you would be the junior partner at this point.”
She almost laughed. Almost. “And what about you, Monk? Do you help Braughton out of the sheer kindness of your heart? Or do you feel compelled to provide assistance?” She was thinking of her encounters with Braughton, when she had felt him trying to force his will on her. Perhaps she was stronger than others.
“Am I a slave? Is that what you’re asking?” She shrugged her shoulders. He shook his head. “No, I relinquished my will to a higher Master long ago.” He bowed his head slightly and closed the door before she could say any more.
She must have tried reading for over an hour, but most everything she picked up read like a grocery list. Address, number of vampires killed, manner in which they were killed, inventory of domicile, human survivors and/or casualties, blank space, then next entry. The only thing she managed to discover was beheading seemed to be the preferred method of dispatching the undead. The older tomes seemed much more promising in content, but being written centuries ago made handling them only slightly less complicated than reading them.
“Should’ve paid more attention in that medieval literature class,” she mumbled as she closed a dusty volume. She sighed as she looked around the stacked shelves. All of this knowledge, but not a thing about the one subject in which she was interested: Braughton.
Never mind she had no idea what kind of creature he was, the clearest image she had was of him covered in blood. And was she just supposed to forget she had been chasing him down for brutally murdering three men? Wait. That gave her an idea. She needed answers, and now she knew exactly where she might find some.
Monk was not in the kitchen when she passed through, but the car was right where he said it would be. She put her hand on the ignition and looked at the dark monastery. An hour there, an hour back, and maybe an hour to get what she was after. She nodded, then turned the key. She’d be back before anyone even noticed she was gone.
The drive took longer than expected, but she barely noticed, spending the time trying to figure out how she was going to get inside the police station. She obviously couldn’t just walk in the front door, even if she had her badge (which she didn’t). Braughton had told her she had to die, so she assumed to everyone else in the world she must be dead. It was something else she needed to confirm while she was in there.
The station was on the far side of town, across from the city park. She sat in her car on the other side of the park and waited. She knew the building would be mostly empty at this time of night, but so would the park. It would make moving around without being noticed a lot more difficult. Not to mention the very real possibility of being recognized should she encounter anyone.
What am I wearing, she wondered, looking down at her clothes. Worried about being seen, she finally realized, with some concern, she was no longer wearing her police uniform. Now when did I change? She had no memory of it, and before she forced herself to check her underwear, she exited the car.
She kept one eye on the front of the building as she made a wide arc through the park, eventually leading her behind the station. She held her breath as she neared the back corner, anxious to see if she had planned well. When the second story window came into view she released the breath in a sigh of relief.
“I knew I could count on you boys,” she said with a smile. The window was in the men’s restroom, and you didn’t have to be a detective to know what the pile of cigarette butts below it meant. Before she could congratulate herself too much, she saw the flaw in her plan. It was a second story window.
She looked around, searching for something to help her reach the window. There were a few cars and even a dumpster nearby, but nothing she could move without attracting attention. She was contemplating a nearby downspout when she remembered her conversation with Monk. She was now only mostly human.
Why not, she thought. Won’t hurt to try. She set her sights on the second story window ledge, then jumped, pushing off the ground with all her strength. She didn’t feel like she had any more power than before, but as she watched the window sail past
, she knew there was a difference. She was just beginning to wonder how high she would go when her ascent was abruptly stopped by an eave.
Surely someone heard that, she thought as she picked herself up off the ground, and headed for the shadows of nearby bushes. There was a knot on her head, but no blood, and she rubbed it absently while watching the dark building. No one came. Ten minutes later the knot was gone, and she was certain no one was coming to investigate the noise.
So, obviously full power is too much, she thought as she stared up at the window. Just how hard she should jump was what she needed to figure out. She looked up, stretched out her arms, and pushed off with what felt like a small bunny hop. It felt ridiculous, but as her fingers made contact with the windowsill, it looked as though she had judged it correctly after all.
As it turned out, it was almost not hard enough. Her hands closed around the sill, leaving her dangling on the side of the building. Now she just needed to pull herself up and into the open window. Just one pull-up. She pulled hard, and realized she was repeating her earlier mistake when her entire body rose past the window and her hands left the sill. She managed to plant her feet on the sill, then rolled through the window onto the tiled floor.
Her feet made little more than a small thump when she landed, and she already had her eyes on the restroom door. It was only after her small sigh of relief that she noticed the stall door beside her. More specifically, she saw the feet underneath the door.
“Somebody out there?” she heard over the rustle of paper. Officer Talson. Guess she knew how he spent his night shift now. “Johnson, if that’s you trying one of your lame jokes again, I swear,” he stopped in mid-sentence as he heard the wind blow through the room and a small creak of the door. “Damn wind,” he muttered, shaking his head and raising the paper back up. “I’m gonna start closing that window.”
Liz held her breath in the dark hall, her eyes fixed on the bathroom door. It only took a few moments to convince her he wasn’t coming to investigate. Any longer and she risked him coming out just because he was finished.
The long corridor left little in the way of cover, and the door she needed was at the far end. Her footsteps softly thudded on the thin carpet, and she kept peeking nervously over her shoulder, hoping no one else could hear them. The door with the small stencil lettering that read ‘File Room’ was still several meters away when she heard the unmistakable sounds of Officer Talson.
No, no, no. She wasn’t going to make it. She turned to look over her shoulder again, turned back, blinked, and the door handle was in her hand. It turned easily, and she slipped inside just as she heard the creak of the bathroom door.
It wasn’t until his footsteps faded down the opposite side of the hall that she finally breathed a sigh of relief. Her hand released the handle, and she turned to face the dark room. At least, it should have been dark. Much like the room she had awoken in, no lights, no windows, yet she could see everything. Not that there was much to see, just row after row of filing cabinets.
Still mostly human, she reminded herself as she headed straight for the cabinet with the newest files. It took a few pulls, but she finally found the file – the diner killings. The working case file would be stored on the computers, but hard copies of everything would be filed here. It could be a long time before anyone noticed it was missing. Even with her improved eyesight she couldn’t make out anything inside, so she slipped it into her jacket, silently closed the drawer, and headed for the door.
The door only gave the slightest complaint as it opened into the empty hall. She paused, listening for any sound of movement. Convinced she was alone on this floor, she made her way back to the men’s bathroom.
Harsh fluorescent light spilled out around her from the open door, and she quickly closed it behind her. A glance at the stalls confirmed they were unoccupied, which meant she had only to exit the same way she entered. She barely made it two steps.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw it. Movement. She whirled to face it, and discovered her own reflection. She nearly laughed in relief. Relief that it was only a mirror, and a relief similar to staring at the cross. She had a reflection, which even though she knew almost nothing of vampires, eased her mind.
She stepped forward, leaning in close to the mirror. “You caught me,” she said, and smiled at herself. Normal teeth. No extra pointed ones. Good. From what she could see, everything else looked normal as well. Two eyes, two ears, one nose, all in the right place, or at least the same place they had always been. She shook her head, then took a few steps back, ready to leave. She took another look at herself and stopped.
What was she doing? Why was she trying to escape from here? She belonged here. Well, not this room specifically, but the building. It had been part of her life for as long as she could remember. First it was visiting her father at work, and then later it was where she worked. Why couldn’t she just run downstairs, tell them she was alive, sit at her desk, and go back to her life?
Her jaw tightened and she stared hard into her own eyes. That wasn’t her life anymore, and as she thought about it, she realized it wasn’t one to which she wanted to return. The folder in her jacket poked her in the side, reminding her she had another decision to make. As for this part of her life though, it was over.
A single footstep was the only warning she got before the door began to swing open. Luckily, it was enough. When Officer Talson reached in to turn off the lights he had accidentally left on, he saw only a few stray paper towels blowing on the breeze in the room. He shook his head as he muttered, “Damn window,” and closed it before turning off the lights and heading back downstairs.
Liz watched the lights go out from the cover of some bushes nearly fifty meters away, with only a vague recollection of how she had gotten there. She remembered hearing someone, then she was diving head-first through the window. There was the spike of fear when she saw the ground coming up fast to meet her. Just before impact she tucked her chin to her chest, rolled forward, planted her feet on the ground, and was running towards the bushes with nothing to show for the stunt besides a little dirt on her clothes. She was beginning to wonder what Monk’s definition of ‘mostly’ was.
It was nearly dawn by the time she returned to the monastery. There was a different feeling when she entered. It was alive, stirring with activity. The kitchen, although empty of people, was full of delicious smells, bubbling pots, and sizzling pans. Her stomach led her to a tray of hot biscuits, then insisted she take one before heading back down to the library. She took two.
The passage to the library was quiet and empty. How often did anyone come down here, she wondered. The library was just as she had left it, with the exception of a stack of newspapers. She dropped the case file on the table next to the papers and picked up a note on top of them. It read: Thought you might find these of interest. – Monk
The first one in the stack was dated the day after the killings, the day he took her. The story was on the front page. Flipping quickly through the rest of the stack she saw the story move further and further from front page, but each one had something.
Newspapers. Available almost anywhere in town, and likely to contain much of the same information. She almost laughed as she looked from them to the stolen police file. None of this would tell her what he was, but maybe it would reveal a little of who he was.
Chapter Twelve
It was just after sunset when they arrived at the ancient country estate the Council used. The driver exited the car and headed inside without even a glance back at them. Malock exited with his apprentice and looked around. He could remember a time when everything here appeared clean and beautiful. Thick green grass, plants, and flowers covered the meticulously manicured grounds, and the house so bright white it was like staring at the sun, leaving its imprint on everything else you saw for moments afterwards.
Now, though, everything was dark and grey. The house was surrounded by dead or dying foliage, save for the wild vi
nes threatening to consume the entire estate. It was all very fitting, Malock decided with a smile. It faded some as he wondered if he might have waited too long to make his move.
“Remember,” he said to his apprentice. “Find Braughton, and watch him. Nothing more. If one drop of his blood or that of his slave is spilled you will long for the days you spent locked in the dungeons, and becoming immortal will be the worst thing ever to have happened to you. Are we clear?” A solid nod, and Malock could see the fear in his eyes. Good. He was glad to see those seeds had rooted deep. The doors groaned on their hinges, and Malock knew they were out of time. “Go now,” he commanded. “I don’t know what they want, but the Council is not known for making swift decisions. If I have not joined you in three nights, come find me.”
Malock’s apprentice turned and disappeared silently into the darkening gloom. The driver saw him leave and ran across the cracked driveway toward Malock. He stared blindly into the darkness, then said, “My orders were to bring both of you here.”
“You did bring both of us here,” Malock replied. “If the Council wanted to see both of us, then they should have specified it.” The driver did not look amused, so he added, “Of course, you’re welcome to trot on out into the darkness and retrieve him yourself. If you can find him. This is an awfully big plantation, and I would hate for you to get lost on such a dark night.” Malock smiled, exposing his pointed teeth, and the driver hesitated. Malock turned, heading for the open door. The driver only stood for another moment before moving to get ahead of Malock.
The smell of the driver’s blood as he rushed past and the sound of his racing heart reminded Malock of how long it had been since his last meal. “I will need to feed very soon,” Malock said when he reached the door.
“Of course,” the driver replied. “I have been instructed to show you to a room, and provide anything you may need to make you comfortable while you wait.”
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