by L.H. Cosway
“I can smell that you are.”
“Is that another of your unique abilities, you can smell how a person feels?”
“Yes, right now you smell like pine, that’s what fear smells like.”
“Well can you blame me? This is all a lot to take in.”
“Will you promise one thing?”
“Depends on what it is.”
“Will you promise to keep this to yourself, to not tell anyone of what we are?” By his words you’d think he was giving me a choice. Like I could say, no deal, honey bunch, I’m off to shout your secret from the rooftops, and he’d be like, oh no please don’t do that. In reality, he’d have to kill me.
“Who would I tell? Anybody I know would say I’m crazy and have me sectioned. And my recent behaviour would make it all seem like perfect sense. As far as my friends are concerned, I’m overdue for a psychotic break.”
“So you’ll keep this a secret,” he finishes.
“Yes.” I gulp. My throat dry with fear.
“I’m putting my faith in you Tegan, don’t let me down.”
“I won’t, I keep my promises, even to vampires.”
“Okay, I’m going to call Lucas and tell him to bring your friend home.”
Ethan goes to his desk to make the call. I’m still not sure if this is reality or some surreal dream, and I can’t wipe the image of Lucas biting into Amanda’s neck from my head. I mean, if vampires are as safe and non-violent as Ethan would have me believe, then why did Lucas look like something out of a horror movie with those red eyes and black veins? Maybe it’s got something to do with the hunt for blood, with their appearance being altered when they go into predator mode.
But this whole revelation also has me wondering about Marcel and Gabriel too, if vampires are real then what if their theories about me are true as well? Did somebody really cast a spell on me when I was a child without my knowing it? Was that somebody my mother? Are there such things as witches too? This is enough to drive me to drugs. If I ever survive this I’m going to end up some old bag lady wandering the city streets rambling on to people about how monsters aren’t just the stuff of fiction.
At this I hear my phone vibrating in my bag, I retrieve it to find several missed calls from Nicky and a text message that reads:
Where are u? Is Amanda with you? Txt back ASAP.
I write back straight away telling her that Amanda has gone home already, because technically she has. I can hear Ethan talking in hushed tones to Lucas in the background telling him to drive Amanda to her place. I also tell her that she can leave and that I’ll make my own way back tonight. I want to tell her what’s really going on, but not in a million years would she believe me. Nicky is already worried about my mental health since I have only just started leaving my apartment after nearly three months of living like I’ve got agoraphobia.
Ethan puts down the phone and is by my side a fraction of a second later, using his vampire speed, and I have to admit it is sort of impressive.
I watch him and remark shakily. “Show off.” My nerves are still at me.
He just grins and tells me politely, “I’ll take you home now, if you would like me to.”
“Yes. Thanks,” I say, though I’m unsure if I can trust him.
He unlocks the door and I follow behind him as he leads me out to the car park. He opens the door of his Cadillac for me, just like the perfect gentleman, and even helps me in. As we pull out of the nightclub we get stuck amid a sea of taxis taking people home. It takes almost a quarter of an hour before we escape the traffic and are on the road in the direction of my apartment. I notice Ethan keeps glancing suspiciously in his rear view mirror.
“Is everything all right?” I ask, wondering what has him on edge.
He hesitates a moment before saying, “Do you see that green van behind us?”
“I do. What about it?” I reply.
“We’re being followed.”
“Huh? Followed by who?”
“Not sure, probably slayers.”
I stifle a laugh. “What like Buffy?”
“No, not at all so palatable I’m afraid. I haven’t had the chance to explain to you yet, but there are groups of humans aware of our existence, hostile groups whose sole purpose it is to bring about our extinction.”
“Are you serious?”
“Deadly.”
“And we’re being followed by slayers right now?” I ask with a certain level of giddiness.
“I suspect we are. I’m sorry but we’re going to have to make a detour, I can’t have them knowing where you live.”
“Have I mentioned that this night keeps getting weirder and weirder?”
Ethan smiles ruefully. “Not in so many words,” he replies before making a sharp and speedy turn around the next corner. Followed by another and then another. All the while I watch our supposed stalkers and notice that they too have made the exact same swift turns on the road.
So we are being followed then.
Chapter Six
What Would Buffy Do?
Ethan drives to the outskirts of Tribane, it takes about twenty minutes, and still that green van is blatantly following us. I know I found it hilarious when Ethan first mentioned that they might be slayers, but now, as I’ve had time to wonder about them, I’m beginning to get nervous. There could be ten or more men huddled into that van, and there’s only one of Ethan. I doubt I’d be of much use in a fight. And what if they mistake me for a vampire? Will I die with a wooden stake to my broken heart?
Thinking this I turn to Ethan and ask, “Are stakes as lethal to you as the myths say they are?”
“Yes, that one is true. Although the problem for slayers is that we can move so much faster than the average human. So it is a momentous feat if they get to us in time. They might be aiming directly for our hearts one second, but in less than that time we could already have gotten five feet away.”
“Yeah, that super speed could definitely come in handy,” I admit, my voice a little shaky.
“Are you worried?” Ethan asks, turning his focus from the road.
“No.” I lie, and the clot of fear in my throat can easily be heard in my words.
His lips turn up into a half smile. “There is absolutely no need to worry my darling, I won’t let anybody get to you.” He tells me, his voice is steel and undiluted power. I suppose a vampire could get fairly good at fighting off slayers with two hundred and seventy odd years of practice.
“You see the licence plate?” he asks, his voice giving me a fright as I was lost in thought for a moment.
“Huh?” I say, eloquent as always, blinking back to the present situation.
“The licence plate on the van contains the letters DOH, that’s how I know they’re slayers. They call themselves the Defenders of Humanity, DOH for short.”
“Well there must be a lot of money in the slaying business,” I joke. “Because it’s only the big shots who can afford snazzy personalised licence plates.”
Ethan smiles but doesn’t seem to quite get the joke. “Lucas likes to call them Dickhead Onanistic Humans,” he says, smiling as if he’s just told me the funniest thing imaginable.
“I’m sorry to say I don’t get that one.”
“Onanistic means to be fond of touching oneself,” he replies and then raises an eyebrow as if to say “Get it now?”
“Oh so you’re basically calling them Dickhead Wanker Humans, jeez you and Lucas can be such nerds.”
“I find it amusing.”
“Maybe that’s because you developed your sense of humour back in the eighteenth century.” I tend to get antagonistic when I’m scared.
Ethan has a massive grin on his face. “I like when you fight with me, it’s fun.”
“I’m glad I’ve kept you entertained.” I mumble.
Ethan swerves the car around a corner, we’re in an abandoned looking industrial estate now, it appears as though the place hasn’t seen any activity whatsoever since the eighties. Everything is soulless and grey.
The night is pitch black and the only way I can see anything at all is because of the shining headlights streaming from the front of Ethan’s car. But a moment later I don’t even have that benefit anymore because Ethan switches them off, probably in a last ditch attempt to lose the van of slayers.
“I’m going to have to fight them,” he tells me. “You must promise me that you will remain inside the car until it’s finished. I’ll make sure to keep them as far away from you as possible.”
I gulp, my mouth suddenly sandpapery dry. “Do you have to fight them? I mean, do you even know how many there are?”
“They usually hunt in groups of five or six. Don’t worry, I could handle twice that.”
“If you say so,” I reply, wondering if that’s true.
Ethan turns into an open space that probably used to be a car park. The green van follows. He pulls the car around in a circle and then stops so that we are facing the slayers, then he places his hand on the door handle. He pauses a moment and turns to me. “How about a kiss for good luck?” he’s smiling all the while, despite the fact that he’s about to take on several slayers intent on his demise.
“Does nothing deter you?” I ask, not knowing how he can be so calm about all of this. Then I have to remind myself, he’s almost two hundred and seventy-seven years old, of course he’s calm, he’s probably taken on thousands of slayers in his lifetime.
“Nothing has yet,” is all he says before hopping out of the car and running toward his opponents.
Ethan slows his pace and then stops smack bang in the middle of the distance between his Cadillac and the slayers’ van. They’ve turned their headlights off as well, the only light shining is the full moon in the night sky. Without realising it I’ve wrapped my arms around myself, my left hand clutching on tightly to the seat belt that I have strapped across my body.
I loosen my grip so that the material doesn’t end up cutting into my skin. I have never been so on edge in my entire life. The tension is palpable as I watch Ethan stretch out his arms and then flex his fingers in preparation. He really is trying to piss them off. My heart almost jumps out of my chest when the van doors slide open and three men get out on each side.
Three and three equals six against one, doing the maths doesn’t seem to be calming me down as it normally does. Each one of the slayers is close to six feet tall. Of course, none of them are as tall as Ethan, but I suppose that’s the supernatural uber-mensch vampire genes for you. Oh, and did I mention that every one of them has an array of weapons strapped to their chests, alongside varying shapes and sizes of knives and swords clutched in their twelve combined hands?
I try not to watch. I turn my head away from the scene in front of me and try to picture tranquillity in my mind. But it doesn’t work. My traitorous head keeps doing the stupid fucking maths, three plus three equals six against one, six multiplied by two hands equals twelve hands against two, twelve legs against two, six muscled bodies against one, and my goodness, what oh what will happen once those hands and legs and bodies have defeated Ethan and come for me? What will those men do to this one broken girl when they get to her?
I decide to hell with not watching. I turn back around just in time to see the slayers form a V shaped formation in front of Ethan. It’s at this point that I realise I don’t want anything bad to happen to him, even if he is basically a parasite. I don’t want to lose him, because I don’t want to lose the way he looks at me, the way flirts with me even though I protest about it. He is the only being in this world that can bring the deadness in me back to life.
The first slayer makes his attack, he’s a broad man with red hair. He launches his blade at Ethan, but he’s too slow compared to Ethan’s swift and precise movements. He speeds to the left, out of the way of the slayer’s sword, a sword that I would swear had been aimed for Ethan’s neck. If it had of hit it would have decapitated him. My blood runs cold at the thought of a disembodied head rolling along the ground like a football.
The slayer grabs something small from his chest strap, a wooden stake, and fucking launches it through the air at Ethan. I almost laugh when his hand shoots up, so fast my eyes could only barely see the movement, and snaps the stake out of the air mid-flight as though it were a Frisbee.
Ethan then flings the piece of wood away and flies at the slayer, all the while two others are trying to come up on him from behind. But they don’t get to him because he has already grabbed the ginger haired slayer by the throat. I see his lips move as he holds the slayer in his grasp, but I can’t hear what it is that he’s said because the car windows are shut tight.
This is when the fight taking place in front of me becomes all too real, all too horrific and brutal. Ethan’s hand grasps the slayer’s neck and tightens, his fingers sink in like claws and rip the man’s throat straight out. Blood sprays and the liquid looks black like ink in the dark. I yelp and tears inadvertently run down my cheeks as I get scared on a whole new level.
I’m no longer frightened of what the slayers might do to me, I’m frightened of Ethan. Everything he told me must have been a lie. He’s a monster, a killer. He turns around swiftly to meet his next kill, the moonlight spots him for a fraction of a second and I see his eyes drowning in red. Just like Lucas when he’d been feeding on Amanda.
Ethan has just grabbed the second slayer by the hair and ripped his entire scalp right off. If ever there was a case for attraction and revulsion being at odds with one another then this would be it.
I watch in terror as he sinks his teeth into the man’s throat and begins to drink. But he doesn’t allow himself to become consumed by it, all too soon he flings the limp body of the dead slayer aside and makes his way toward the next. The final three spread out and try to surround Ethan. The slayer with the short brown hair catches Ethan off guard and manages to slash his arm with a sword. It must be that bullets can’t kill a vampire, because none of the slayers are using their guns. Most of their weapons look like they came from the props section of a period drama, and I’d swear the first man Ethan killed was carrying a stiletto.
This slayer seems to be the best fighter of the six and he’s fast enough to keep up with Ethan. He zips from one position to the other making some impressive attempts at wounding the vampire.
Unfortunately Ethan moves in quickly and punches the slayer right in the face, possibly breaking his nose judging from the spray of blood. The slayer is sprawled unconscious on the ground as Ethan moves in for the kill, but then he becomes distracted by the remaining two and leaves the slayer where he fell.
Ethan grabs the long shining sword of one of the slayers. He overpowers the man, turning his weapon on him, in toward his heart and then stabs him with his own blade. He then tosses the body aside and launches himself at the last man standing, who pulls a bow and arrow from his back and aims it straight at Ethan.
In a blur of motion Ethan is behind the poor man. Quick as a flash he grabs his neck and with only the slightest of movements snaps it. The limp body of the slayer falls to the ground, he doesn’t look like he was any older than twenty-five. A being so full of life instantly snuffed out with one single violent movement.
At first I had been angry at the idea of an organised group of people fighting for the extinction of another species. But now, as I have witnessed first-hand what Ethan’s kind are capable of, I’m beginning to understand why humans would risk their lives to kill off vampires. The thought of Ethan getting back inside the car with me has my entire body breaking out in goose bumps. My heart pumps faster than ever before.
Then I see him approach the final slayer, the one he’d knocked out earlier but hadn’t had the chance to kill. The man remains unconscious as Ethan walks slowly toward him, he takes what appears to be a handkerchief from his trouser pocket and begins dabbing blood from his face and hands. At this moment I know that I can’t let him kill that last slayer, I can’t watch as he takes another life.
It is for this very reason that I put my hand on the door handle and pull it
open. The very instant I’m outside and standing on the concrete ground Ethan whips his head around, his eyes are still red, while the black veins are slowly fading.
“GET BACK IN THE CAR!” he commands.
“Don’t kill him Ethan, he’s no threat to you anymore,” I beg, tears stream down my face as I peer at the five lifeless bodies lying on the ground.
“I have to,” he says, but this time his voice sounds a fraction less cold. I would almost venture to say that he sounds upset.
“Ethan…”
“I said get back in the car Tegan, I have to finish this.”
I don’t know why but I run to him and place myself in the way of the unconscious slayer. I can’t bring myself to touch Ethan because I’m still frightened after seeing him kill. I put my hands out in a gesture for him to stop and try to see things from my perspective.
“Please Ethan, this is unnecessary. What difference will it make if you spare one life out of six?”
“You do not understand how this works, if I don’t kill him now he will keep coming back for me until one of us is dead.”
“Or perhaps he’ll see that you showed him mercy and change his perception of your race,” I tell him, knowing full well that this slayer will never change his mind about vampires, but I have to convince Ethan somehow to spare the man’s life.
“You’re not foolish enough to believe that are you?” he asks, seeing right through me.
I try another angle. “Well even so, aren’t you ashamed of what you’ve done? I know that you could have killed these men in a much less violent manner, and yet you chose to rip out their throats, even feed from them as they died.”
For a moment I see unmistakable shame flicker in his blue grey eyes, the red now gone completely.
“You understand nothing…” he says, but his voice betrays his defeat. He looks to the man, as if making up his mind on what to do with him. “I may be being foolish, but I will let him live if that is what you want.”
“It is,” I say, my voice jittery from fear and adrenaline.