Amaranthine Special Edition Vol I

by Naylor, Joleene

  A blurry photo flashed on the screen and Katelina gasped in horror. It was Kateesha! But then she chided herself quickly. Of course it wasn’t Kateesha, it was probably some pseudo super model who vaguely resembled her. How pathetic was she when she was seeing imaginary phantoms on the news? Oren’s prophecy had shaken her up more than she thought.

  “…There have been no demands for ransom, and authorities fear the worst, but friends and family are optimistic…”

  “Optimistic,” Katelina thought with a sigh. “That must be nice.” She glanced to Jorick, as though for comfort. He stood with his back to the counters, one lean hip against the payphone housing. His dark eyes skipped around the nearly empty restaurant, but moved back to her often. She wondered vaguely whether he was watching out for her, or keeping an eye on her.

  He hung the phone up with a dissatisfied look, and joined her at the table again. She waited for an explanation, and when he offered none, she pushed for it. “What was that?”

  “I found out how Kateesha plans to lure an attack,” he muttered darkly. “She’s taken someone. I don’t know who she is, some celebrity. Des said her disappearance is already on the news.”

  A shiver raced down Katelina’s spine, and she stared back at the silent TV, where commercials now played. “You don’t mean Shelay, the pop singer? You can’t be serious?”

  Jorick waved her disbelief away. “Maybe. The name sounds familiar. I didn’t think to ask Des what she was famous for.”

  “Des? Who’s Des?”

  “A friend of Oren’s,” Jorick commented dismissively.

  With all the weird vampire intricacies, Katelina was certain that was an over simplification, but she’d take it. The other topic was more important. “So, Kateesha kidnapped Shelay? Not really? I mean, I just saw it on TV! That doesn’t happen in real life! You don’t just, I mean-” She broke off and tried again. “She couldn’t really have kidnapped Shelay?”

  “Yes, she could, and undoubtedly did,” Jorick said patiently. “Now The Guild will have to do something about it.”

  “You mean Kateesha took her, so they’d have to come rescue her?” The conversation was insane!

  Jorick snorted. “They won’t rescue her. She’s seen…” he paused. “Them. There are laws.”

  Memories of a bonfire and the stench of burning flesh assaulted Katelina's mind. Yes, she remembered. “…Because his servants weren’t marked and had seen what Jesslynn, Oren and the others were, this meant they knew about us and they had to die...”

  The thought made her eyes wide. “But they can’t kill her! She’s famous! She’s important! She’s-”

  “Yes,” Jorick interrupted. “They can, and they will. Famous people disappear as easily as normal people. Fame doesn’t make you immortal.”

  “Well, no, but…” she broke off and shivered, unable to comprehend the scope of it. “So when the Executioners come to kill her, or whatever, Oren plans to attack too?”

  “Basically. He’ll wait until the battle is nearly over and then strike, so the numbers will be fewer. He’s counting on battle fatigue, but I’m not sure it will be the ally he thinks.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “And Loren will go with him.”

  Katelina looked more than surprised. “But you said he wouldn’t leave us?”

  “Not here. He’ll travel home with us, then make his excuses. I imagine he’s gone to meet Oren now and make the arrangements.” He drew a tight breath and, though his voice was flat, something flickered in the depths of his eyes that betrayed his true feelings. “I hope he gets his fill of excitement.”

  It wasn’t long before Loren returned. He mumbled an excuse that Jorick barely acknowledged, then they filed outside and climbed into the waiting car. The trip home was long and somehow worse than the original had been. Loren was silent, no doubt afraid of giving away his intentions and unaware that they already knew. Jorick was also quiet and seemed lost in some inner war that no one else knew about. So, Katelina spent most of the long, tedious drive with her cheek against the cold window, wishing she was somewhere else.

  They stopped infrequently for bathroom breaks, food, and drinks. It was those moments that kept Katelina sane. The brightly lit truck stops were like miniature vacations from the dark silence and her own, equally dark, thoughts. She couldn’t wrap her head around what Jorick had told her. The world of celebrities; actors, pop singers, talk show hosts, that was a separate world she’d never been to in person and hardly believed in. The people were “real” insomuch as they inhabited the covers of magazines and television screens, but that was where they ended. In her mind they didn't go home and have a drink, or discuss what they wanted for dinner. They didn't pump gas, or walk the dog, or do any of the things normal people did. Imaginary Shelay couldn’t have crossed over into what had become Katelina’s world because, frankly, she wasn’t real enough. Kateesha was a blood drinking, terrifying monster, but she was real, while Shelay was nothing more than a two dimensional fairytale persona. And everyone knows that fairytales and nightmares don’t go together.

  But what if they did? What if that blurry photo had really been Kateesha? If she could cross over into the fairy world of celebrities, what else could she do? Or better yet, what couldn’t she do? What was to stop her from winning?

  Near dawn they rented two motel rooms. Loren disappeared to his as quickly as he could, and Katelina decided to take a shower. By the time she got out, Jorick had the furniture stacked in front of the window and was already in bed. She wasn’t sure if that was his way of saying he didn’t want to talk, or if he was just tired. Either way, she slipped in next to him and tried to find sleep herself.

  She was only partially successful, so when Jorick woke her the next evening she tried to ignore him. Not to be deterred, he shook her again.

  “Katelina. You need to get up and get dressed. If you want, you can sleep in the car, but we need to go.”

  “Why?” she mumbled into her pillow. “You have a tea party to go to?”

  “No, but the sooner we leave the sooner we’ll be home.”

  “What’s the difference?” But he pretended not to hear her and instead busied himself with the packing. When he didn’t comment she added, “I’m sick of riding in the damned car.”

  He didn’t look up from his work. “I know, but it’s only three or four more hours and then we’ll be home.”

  “I don’t think you understand how sick of it I am. My back hurts, my legs hurt. My hips hurt, even my neck hurts! There’s no music to listen to, it’s too dark to see the scenery and it isn’t like you guys are having a conversation! It’s like being dead, only more uncomfortable!”

  He tossed the last of her clean clothes on the bed for her. “Only three or four more hours and then we’ll be home.”

  It took all of her effort not to throw the blue jeans back at him.

  Despite his lack of verbal acknowledgement, Jorick took the backseat. Katelina thought about thanking him for the effort, but the front seat was just as uncomfortable. Besides, his mood made him somewhat unapproachable.

  It was exactly that mood she contemplated for the duration of the trip. Jorick had been decidedly unhappy since meeting with Oren. She assumed it was over Loren’s imminent departure, but she wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like she could ask him with Loren right there. No, she’d have to wait until they got home.

  But, when they got home, they hadn’t even gotten the bags out of the backseat before a small silver hatchback with a broken antenna and tinted windows pulled into the driveway. When Jorick saw it, he went from relaxed gloom to rigid anger.

  Katelina stood next to Loren’s car uncertainly. The teen vampire joined her, and both of them watched as Jorick loped towards the newcomers

  “Who is it?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know.”

  The silver car came to a stop. As Jorick reached it, the back door opened and a figure dressed in a long, hooded cloak climbed out and moved to meet him. Katelina squinted and, though she
couldn’t make out the features, she was certain it was a woman.

  “She looks like she’s out of one of those elf movies,” Loren whispered, and Katelina had to agree.

  “Jorick,” the woman began, but she got no further.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  She was visibly unsettled by his reaction, and straightened her spine in compensation. “Can’t we make a social call? We were in the area.”

  “Of course you were.” His tone turned false polite. “Unfortunately this isn’t an opportune moment. I’m afraid we’ll have to postpone this get together, um….” he broke off.

  “Kariss,” she filled in darkly. “I assume you remember me?”

  “Vaguely,” Jorick acknowledged. “I believe you were once at Oren’s?”

  “Jesslynn’s,” she corrected sharply. “She was the one who ran the coven.”

  Jorick ignored her remark. “It’s been wonderful to see you and-” he glanced to the front seat. “-your friends. Again. However, I’m very busy. I’ve just returned from a trip and I’m rather anxious to unpack.”

  “Yes, I know, and that’s why I’m here.” She moved past Jorick and headed for Katelina and Loren. “You’re not the one I’m looking for.”

  Before she’d taken more than three steps, Jorick seized her arm and spun her back towards him, a growl in his throat. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  The front doors of the car popped open and two males leapt out, obviously ready to defend the woman, but she called to them, “Adam, Nirel, stop!” She glared up into Jorick’s face and wrenched her arm free. “I’m here to see your young fledgling.”

  Jorick snorted contemptuously and stepped back from her. “If you mean Loren, then you’re mistaken. He’s none of mine.”

  Something flickered across Loren’s face, perhaps hurt, but he didn’t comment.

  Kariss gave Jorick another angry look before she resumed her walk towards them. “I realize that you’re overprotective, Jorick, but rest assured I have no business with your human.” She came to a stop before them and swept back her hood. Her face was pale and smooth, and wisps of brown hair escaped from an intricate up do. Her large blue eyes fastened on Katelina, curiosity shining in their depths. She continued to stare much longer than was polite, and Katelina shifted uncomfortably, like an item on display.

  Jorick came up behind Kariss and cleared his throat noisily. “Your business is with Loren.” He reached around her and caught Katelina’s hand. “Come, little one. We’ll leave them to it.”

  He tugged her towards the house and she went willingly, though she couldn’t help but glance back at the other four vampires.

  “You’re more than welcome to come, too, Jorick,” Kariss called. “You don’t need to stay here and babysit.”

  Jorick paused on the threshold, clearly annoyed. “I’m not babysitting.”

  The cloaked vampiress moved towards them, but Jorick pulled Katelina into the house and purposefully shut the door.

  Katelina peered through the window at the small car. “Who is she?”

  “I don’t know. Some friend of Jesslynn’s.” He rolled his eyes. “Apparently she’s recruiting for Oren now.”

  “Recruiting?”

  He didn’t have time to answer before the door opened and Kariss seemed to float inside, completely uninvited.

  “Go away,” Jorick told her flatly. “If you have business with Loren then go to his house and leave me in peace.”

  Kariss let her eyes flick around the room, but then settled her attention on Jorick’s angry face. “Would it not be better for you to come with us and leave him here to watch over your human? Or do you not trust him?”

  “I trust no one to take care of that which is my responsibility. It’s a lesson I learned long ago, at a dear cost, and I have no intention of learning it again.”

  “It was more than a century ago,” Kariss argued. “Nearly my own lifetime. Things are different now.”

  “No,” Jorick stated firmly. “The only difference is that I’m held by no oaths this time. Take Loren, if you want him, but leave me alone.”

  Kariss frowned. “But he’s young. He lacks strength. How much good can he do? Surely you owe it to him to go in his stead?”

  There was a small noise, and Katelina looked up to see Loren standing in the doorway, his face a storm cloud ready to burst. She started to remark on his presence, but Jorick talked over her.

  “He’s not my responsibility. I owe him nothing. He’s chosen his path, and he walks it alone.” His eyes flicked up and met Loren’s, though he still spoke to Kariss. “You can tell him that when he’s done with his adventures I may still be here, assuming he survives.”

  “Fuck you!” Loren shouted, then spun and stormed across the porch and towards his car.

  Kariss floated between them like a confused butterfly, but then she made up her mind and hurried towards the door. She paused at the threshold long enough to say, “If you change your mind, you know where we are.” And then she was gone.

  Jorick muttered something under his breath and made a show of locking the door. “There, that should keep them all out. I haven’t had this much company in fifty years!”

  Katelina stared at him in disbelief. How could he be so completely insensitive? “That was a little harsh.”

  He peered out the window, as if checking to make sure they’d really gone. “Excuse me?”

  “Loren. That was a little harsh, don’t you think? He was standing right there. He heard you guys say that stuff about him. Maybe he’s sick of hearing how he’s useless and weak, and stupid and plain. Maybe some people want to be acknowledged as something besides ‘your responsibility’!”

  Jorick looked at her in confusion. “But he isn’t my responsibility. I never said-”

  “No, you never said, you only tell people what they can think and where they should go and what they should and shouldn’t do. That is if you tell them anything at all.” She suddenly realized that she wasn’t talking about Loren anymore, and wondered if she ever had been.

  “Did it occur to either of you that I’m trying to protect you?”

  “Maybe we don’t want to be protected.”

  Jorick blinked stupidly and she shouted, “Oh forget it!” and stormed to the basement and shut herself in the bedroom.

  Though she’d expected Jorick to come after her, he didn’t. When she got tired of waiting, she wandered into the basement. She hadn’t spent much time down there, except in the bedroom, but now seemed like a good time for exploring.

  She paused next to the big black “guest coffin” and slid the lid aside. A cloud of stale, musty air puffed up at her, and she wrinkled her nose and moved away from it. The door next to the bedroom caught her eye, and she headed for it. The room inside was nearly the same size as the bedroom, and full to bursting with random junk, including an old bicycle, so that there was only a small patch of visible floor left.

  “My God, does he save everything?”

  She rifled through a couple of nearby boxes, but there was nothing interesting in them; just some old newspapers, a couple of glass coke bottles, some half melted candles, a partial Christmas tree topper and – surprise – some musty books.

  Bored, she abandoned that room and went back into the main part of the basement. The furnace sat shrouded in cobwebs and shadows and she wondered why Jorick never used it. After close examination, she understood. She was sure that if she wiped the grime off, she’d find a metal plate that said “1908”, or at least “1950”. He was right. Being semi frozen was better than dying in a raging house fire.

  The basement door opened, and footsteps started down the stairs. She drew away from the furnace and peered up to see Jorick.

  “There you are,” he commented casually. “I thought you might want some food? It’s been some time since we stopped at the gas station.”

  Katelina stared at him incredulously. Food? He wasn’t concerned about the fact that he’d upset her, but
the idea that she might be hungry! Of all the stupid, ridiculous, Jorick-like things!

  “I cooked a,” he paused. “Pizza, I believe it’s called. The round, flat thing.” He motioned with his hands. “It’s done now.”

  She didn’t know what to say, so she just mumbled, “Uh, thanks.”

  He gave a satisfied nod and withdrew, which left her nothing to do but follow him. She found him in the kitchen and the pizza on the countertop.

  “I wasn’t sure if you cut it up or…” he broke off and stared at it. “What is it?”

  “Pizza.” She dug a knife from the drawer and turned her attention to it. “It’s kind of like bread with tomato sauce and cheese and toppings on it.”

  Jorick made a face. But, when she’d finished cutting it, he gallantly carried it into the dining room. Again, she followed him, though she stopped uncertainly when he deposited it on the table and pulled out a chair too near the old desk for comfort.

  “Aren’t you coming?” he asked as he sat down. “Your food’s getting cold.”

  “Oh, right.” Her smile was all nerves, but she did as he asked.

  Jorick watched her with too keen interest, so she selected a piece of pizza and ate it. By the time she’d finished it, she couldn’t take the scrutiny anymore. “What?”

  He frowned uncertainly. “I don’t know. You just seem….” He searched for words. “Unwell. You have for the last few days.”

  “I’m fine,” she assured him quickly, and picked up a second slice of pizza.

  He cleared his throat and studied the table top, seeking his next words in the wood grain. “Are you… happy?”

  The question left her speechless.

  “Are you happy?” he repeated. “Because you don’t seem like it. You seem,” he broke off again. “Angry.”

  “Well,” she began slowly. “I guess I am angry. I mean, you won’t tell me anything, you know?”

  “Like what?” he asked, slightly annoyed. “What is it you need to know?”