Kill Me

by Alex Owens

  From outside of the booth I could hear people laughing and mingling. Flashes from the dance floor strobes flickered behind the booth’s curtain. Techno music pulsed through the thin walls. The party was getting well under way and I was cowering in a booth.

  If I had never met Bette, I would be out there enjoying drinks and securing business connections, not pondering my uncertain future on the floor of my maker’s booth. I missed being normal more than I thought I would.

  “So, how are things? Did you try that blocking exercise I gave you?” Cassidy said.

  Crap, I’d almost forgotten she was there. I needed to get it together and at least pretend to be normal.

  “Things are good. I built myself a nice little brick containment system and it seems to be working very well. I should thank you for that.” I smiled and patted her hand.

  She stared at me intently. So much so, that my head felt itchy. Was she trying to test my shield?

  “Stop that. You’re freaking me out.” I rubbed my forehead and swatted her away playfully. “Does that mean you have a gift too?”

  I’d not considered that before. I just thought she was interested in the spiritual, psychic mumbo-jumbo—one of those Hippy-Dippy sorts. It never occurred to me that she might actually be one of us weirdo’s.

  “What? I have no idea what you mean.” She smiled coyly and hopped to her feet. “Come on, I’m dying for a drink.”

  I took her outstretched hand. “Me too. I’m positively parched.”

  We left the booth giggling like school girls and made our way toward the bar. Since I’d run off stage, the party had doubled in size. Wall to wall, people laughed and engaged in lively conversation. A smooth jazz band provided appropriate background music. I didn’t see the dastardly duo anywhere, but I did spot Domino waiting patiently in the wings. Maybe that meant Bette was finally around.

  “Hey.” I tugged on Cassidy’s hand. She stopped and looked at me, and I asked her to get me a drink while I took care of something. As soon as she turned her back to me, I headed straight for Domino.

  He didn’t seem surprised to see me coming over. In fact, he reminded me of those palace guards in England—his facial expression didn’t change at all. I wouldn’t let him ignore me though.

  “Please tell me that Bette is here.” I practically begged.

  Domino didn’t look my way, but grunted a quick, “No.”

  I was afraid of that. “Have you heard from her at all? Please tell me you’ve spoken with her?”

  I pleaded with the universe for Domino to give me the answer I wanted. I needed Bette. She was the only vampire I half-way trusted and I still had plenty of questions. My life might actually depend on getting those answers.

  “Yes. You call her in an hour.” Domino fished around in his jacket pocket and pulled out a cell phone. He handed it to me and walked away.

  “Wait!” I called after him. “Don’t you need your phone?”

  He stopped, shook his head and said, “I have another. Just call number in history. One hour.”

  Then he simply walked away. I scrolled through the phone’s call log, and sure enough, there was only one number in there. Why in the hell would Domino have a burner phone? And why did I have to wait for an hour. I’d certainly fallen down the rabbit hole this time.

  “There you are.” Cassidy handed me a fruity mixed drink. “Everything okay?”

  I assured Cassidy I was fine and tucked the phone down the front of my dress. I didn’t have anywhere else to put it, so down the bra it went. For the next several minutes, I forgot all about the phone. Instead, Cassidy and I laughed and cruised around. We made fun of a few partiers that were hitting the booze a little too hard.

  I almost felt normal—so long as I didn’t let the thousands of blood-carrying bodies get to me. That was a bit of a struggle, but one that I could handle with a little effort.

  On our third lap of the large banquet room, my boobs began to vibrate. I looked at the clock on the wall and realized we’d been at it for over an hour. Bette—it had to be Bette calling. I excused myself while fishing the phone out of my cleavage. Cassidy shot me a funny look, but left to go talk to some friends of hers as I walked to the side entrance where it was quieter.

  “Bette? Bette, is that you?” The desperation in my voice annoyed even me.

  Static swallowed the connection and the line went dead. Shit, flies and horse-feathers. It had to have been her. Who else would be calling?

  I found the number in the history and sure enough, it was the same as the only other number on the phone. I hit send and waited for someone to answer. After the tenth ring, the call went to a generic voicemail box, so I hung up. Then I paced. The dewy night air did nothing for my hair or my mood. What the hell was going on?

  Was she all right? Surely Gregor would let me know if something was wrong. He had to have some sort of affection for Bette. She was essentially his child, after all. There had to be allegiance there; some sort of bond. Wasn’t that the way things worked?

  The phone buzzed in my hand and I answered faster than humanly possible. “Bette?”

  Seconds ticked by before I heard her sultry voice. “Clara? Yes, it is me.”

  “Oh, thank god. Bette… where have you been? I’ve been going crazy worrying about you. And Domino hadn’t spoken to you and Gregor had no idea where you were. You gave me an ulcer. Is everything okay? Where are you?” I gushed.

  “Clara, Clara…relax, I am fine. I just had some business to attend to,” Bette soothed and my body relaxed. It was one more time that I didn’t mind her brand of vamp-juju. I hadn’t realized how tightly-wound I’d been until my body let go of the tension.

  “What business? What was important enough to leave me worrying?” I wanted to gag—I sounded like a jealous wife. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

  “Clara, it was important. But I am sorry that you were worried.” Bette said. “I went out of town for a little while, but I’m back now and anxious to tell you what I learned.”

  “Learn about what?” I asked.

  Bette hesitated. I could practically hear her thinking about how much to tell me. Couldn’t I get a straight answer from anyone anymore?

  “I had someone looking into you,” she said quietly. “And I found something interesting.”

  “What do you mean, looking into me? Did you hire a private investigator or something?” I bristled at the thought. It’s not like she’d find anything unsavory. Up until the last few days, I’d been a model citizen. But the invasion of privacy, that was not something I was comfortable with.

  “No. Not at all. We researched your family tree, thinking maybe your gifts were inherited and if we knew more about them, it would prove useful,” she said.

  Well, that made me feel moderately better. At least she wasn’t running common credit checks on me or running my name through sex-offender databases. It would be my luck she’d come up with something in error, like that I was really a transvestite dog-groomer from Houston that went by the alias Puddin’ Cup.

  “Okay, what did you find?” I was more than curious. I knew very little about my ancestors. It hadn’t been a big topic in my family. My parents were too busy working around the clock to keep the house running. There hadn’t been time for a lot of trips down memory lane. Or trips, period.

  Bette interrupted my thoughts. “My research took me back to Italy, but you probably knew that given your surname. From there it got harder. No official records exist from that time.”

  “How far back are we talking? I know my great-grandparents came over near the turn of the century,” I volunteered.

  “I know. I was able to go father back, until the trail ran cold in the sixteenth century. From there, I had to make a few guesses and put out some inquiries to Book Sellers—specifically ones that collect old and rare volumes from Italy.”

  Damn, she was thorough, I’d give her that. “And?”

  Bette laughed at my impatience. “And I am fairly certain that you are the d
escendant of a powerful Strega who last shows up on record in the early fifteen-hundreds—1531 to be exact. The Siege of Florence was over and the city fell under the rule of Alessandro de Medici. Unfortunately for your relative, she drew the attention of Medici because of her legendary powers and great beauty.”

  I tried to absorb what Bette was telling me, but it was all too much. From what I remembered from college, the Medici family had been rich and powerful. Gaining their favor was all some ever hoped for. Many of the Masters of Art History were only known as such because of Medici patronage.

  “I’m not following. Why was being recognized by the Medici unfortunate for her?” I asked.

  “Because, my dear Clara,” Bette spoke softly. “The Strega Venna was never mentioned after that. She must have died around then, probably at the hands of the Medici, most likely for being a witch. You know, the Hunts began again around that time.”

  “Oh, that’s awful.” I was saddened by the loss of a woman I’d never met, a woman I felt an ancient connection with. She’d probably died for her gifts, the very same ones that she’d passed on to me.

  “Don’t worry, I will investigate some more; it will just take some time,” Bette promised. “I left a packet of research at the hotel for you until I learn more. Perhaps we will even discover more about you through this Strega.”

  I was grateful that Bette was going to keep looking into my family, specifically the woman named Venna. I wanted to know every single detail about this woman’s life and death. I felt like I owed her that. “Thanks. It means a lot to me.”

  “It is my pleasure.” She said. “Now, we have a meeting tonight and you will be there.”

  “We?” I asked.

  “Yes. All of us. Domino will bring you. Go find him and I’ll see you soon.” Bette cut the connection and once again, I was left with more questions than answers. The main one I’d wanted to ask—was she being overly paranoid, or was the whole cloak-and-dagger, burner-phone thing really necessary?

  I did the only thing I could—I went in search of Domino.

  I found him waiting on the other side of the door, or rather I practically ran over him as I came back inside.

  “Follow me.” He turned and headed to the entrance expecting me to tag along like a dutiful child. Pouting, I chased after him while muttering under my breath. Why did he have to be such an ass all the time?

  Within minutes we were in the limo and on the way to god-knows-where. I watched palm trees roll by at an impressive speed, flickering like towering giants, each standing in their own golden glow of a spotlight. I rolled the window down and felt the moist air kiss my skin. Wherever we were going, Domino wanted to get there fast.

  Not that I’d been kept in the loop.

  Dread coiled in my stomach and I knew that this meeting wasn’t going to be good. Cryptic phone calls aside, when it came to my friendly family of Vamps, I stood on shaky ground. I was new, uninformed and flopping around like a fish on a pier. I used to think I was prepared for whatever life could throw at me, but since meeting Bette I realized that I had been naïve to think I could handle just about anything. The past few days had proven that I was not equipped to handle the weirdness that now dominated my life.

  My survival felt hinged on how quickly I could gather myself up and stand on my own two feet. If I was right, this impromptu meeting might prove more pivotal than I could imagine.

  The car rolled to a stop and Domino killed the engine. I scanned the area outside the window to get my bearings before climbing out into whatever awaited.

  We were in the woods. Dense brush and light-blocking trees surrounded the tiny clearing just big enough for the limo, a small stretch of dirt that served as a path to a blocky, concrete structure. Covered in dirt and peeling paint, the building hardly looked big enough for two people at a time—no way was the meeting being held here.

  Domino opened my door. I waited for him to say something, but all I got for my attention was a stone-faced stare. I rolled my eyes and climbed out of the car. The scent of dampness and bog cloaked the area. Just how long had we been driving? We were in the middle of a damn swamp.

  I shivered and crossed my arms over my chest. I could practically hear the creepy-crawlies skittering my way, the gators ambling through the tall grass, and the snakes slithering in the branches over our heads.

  “What the hell, Domino. Where are we?” I turned to the doughy man. “I know you didn’t bring me out here to feed me to the swamp.”

  I shot him a look that hopefully reminded him of the choking incident. He rubbed his throat and I knew the message had been received. Domino raised an arm, pointing behind me at the squat block building.

  He had to be kidding. I shook my head. No way was I going into a glorified outbuilding with him, especially one in the middle of the swamp.

  “Go, they are waiting.” He pushed me toward a rusted door in the face of the building.

  I stumbled forward. “Watch it Bub.” I shot him a nasty look and Domino backed away while keeping his eyes on me at all times. Smart man.

  “Go,” he said again.

  “In there? Really?” I waved to the door. He nodded, so I reached for the knob; it turned under my hand with a scraping-creak. I pulled the door open and was completely surprised by what waited on the other side.

  I expected a tiny room full of electrical panels or the like, but what I saw was a single bare bulb in the ceiling which illuminated that the rest of the room disappeared into a dark hole. On closer inspection, within a few feet of the door, the floor turned into steps that went down into darkness.

  Movement behind me said that Domino was near. I turned to him. “You expect me to go down there?”

  He smiled and it unnerved me completely.

  “Are the others down there?”

  He rested his hand on the open door. “Yes, now go.”

  Before I registered the movement, Domino slammed the door, leaving me in the tiny room with no place left to go but down. I could only imagine what awaited me down in the dark recesses. I could feel my body shaking as I weighed my options. Go down or try to get the hell out of there. Something told me that Domino would give me a hard time if I chose to leave, but I was a Vampire and he was just a sour-puss. He couldn’t hurt me.

  On the other hand, if Bette and the rest of them were waiting for me, I needed to go down into the dark. Pissing them off wasn’t in my best interest and if they were going to do something bad, I’d rather have it go down in the swamps— somewhere far away from my daughter.

  I pulled in a deep breath of stale air and stepped down into the void, the blackness swallowing me within seconds.

  Chapter 26

  “Finally, you’ve come,” Bette said, her lips pulling up at the corners into a forced smile. So much for the welcome wagon. And to think, I’d been beside myself wondering if she was okay. Apparently, our relationship, if you could even call it that, did not mean the same thing to the both of us.

  I took a few tentative steps into the white-washed room, which was empty except for a large round table with four chairs. A bright light hung over the table and cast physically impossible shadows around the otherwise empty room. And despite all the white on every surface of the room, a certain gloomy darkness permeated everything.

  And then there was the freaking fog, seeping into the room, crawling up the walls like spiders.

  “Sit,” Clive pointed to the chair opposite Bette. He looked as smarmy as ever. I wanted to pout and rebel, or at least say something smart-assed, but I kept my mouth shut.

  With feet that felt too light, I joined the group at the table. I didn’t want to, not at all. Something about this clandestine meeting felt big. As in, the “holy crap, I didn’t expect that!” kind of big that upends your life. And since I’d survived the baby-vamp-slash-empath-girl news with little fanfare, whatever was coming had to be even worse than that. Much worse.

  I stretched out my hand and the chair slid back from the table before I’d laid a f
inger on it. Empty silence filled the room. Interesting. Had I moved it with my mind?

  There was no way to know, so I took a seat at the table and focused on the others, all waiting patiently with blank faces.

  Finally, when the crawling fog was about to seriously freak me out, Bette spoke, distracting me. “We’ve been waiting a long time for someone like you.”

  “What?” I said in a low voice that didn’t sound like my own. My hand twitched and I looked to each of them for a reply. Why weren’t they answering me? I had one of those paranoid moments, where I wasn’t sure if I’d spoken at all. I cleared my throat and tried again.

  “What do you mean someone like me?” When there was no reply still, I started to rise from my chair, fear settling in my gut when I realized that I could not stand. My limbs felt weighted down, or rather pinned under a thousand hands. Clive was glaring at me, as if the weight of his gaze was enough to hold me still.

  His lips formed into a sneer. “You are very special, though you do not know it yet.”

  I frowned. There was nothing special about me, that I was sure of. I was the most boringly-normal harried housewife this side of the Mississippi. Well, I was before all the paranormal crap of the last three days, but that all felt like a dream. My real life back at home was not nearly as exciting.

  “She does not believe,” Gregor stated. It wasn’t until he spoke that I realized he hadn’t yet looked my way.

  We’d had some awkward moments in the past few days and I wasn’t sure how to handle him. There was definite chemistry with him, but I’d also thought Bette and I shared something more than a blood connection. Now I didn’t know what to think. Heck of a way to start things off.

  I responded to what he’d said, but kept my eyes averted. “Believe what? You guys are being all cryptic. I don’t even know what you are talking about.”

  “Well then, she will have to be shown the way,” Bette said to Clive and Gregor, who nodded in agreement.