In the Dark

by Melody Taylor

  Found myself in an alley. Pressed to a wall, I paused and listened. Without the pain pulsing in time to my feet, I could hear. I listened, ignoring the sound in my chest, trying to hear her behind me. Silence. Just the normal sounds of the night.

  Sebastian!

  It was a mental scream, thinking what I couldn’t get out loud. Oh, please, I’d dreamed Josephine and Emily the night before, maybe Sebastian would hear me . . .

  Emily.

  What happened to Emily?

  I saw her face in my head, smug, faking regret – “had to do away with poor Emily . . .”

  Oh, no. Oh, no.

  She’d been warmer earlier tonight. It hadn’t lasted. A vampire. How? Trick, the vampire said. What trick? It was Emily. Every tiny detail, her eyes, her hair . . . except her pulse, her temperature. And the way she looked at me, so hungry, so cold . . . not Emily. What happened to her?

  Dead, my cruel logic said. She got taken, like Evan, and the vampire drank her up. I didn’t know how, but the trick was looking like her, taking her place.

  Sebastian!

  Nothing. Ridiculous to think he’d come just because I needed him. I had to get out of here. Find Sebastian.

  I had to run. Run where, I didn’t know. Away. I tried to take a deep breath to steady myself but it stopped halfway down. The hole in my throat slurped, and nothing got to my lungs. Tears sprang to my eyes. Somehow, not being able to breathe when I wanted to frustrated me more than everything else. I didn’t need to breathe, only wanted to, and I couldn’t. I swallowed, feeling how raw my throat was. Without any breath at all, I ran.

  VECTOR

  Sebastian stopped outside Josephine’s house, locked the Vector and ran. To hell with it if anyone saw the car and recognized it. He’d already wasted time checking the martini bar down the street from his building.

  The heavy oak door at the front of the house stood open. Sebastian leapt the four steps leading up to the door and paused in the doorway, taking in the scene. A still-wet smear of blood stained the thick carpet. Not enough to indicate serious injury to the vampire who’d lost it, but enough to show someone had been hurt. A table had been overturned, a marble paperweight marked with blood lay to one side. Used as a weapon. He could only hope by Ian. A cellular telephone lay on the floor. He recognized it. Stepped into the room to snatch it up, his eyes and ears open. No sign of anyone still in the house. No sound. Nothing useful.

  Gone. Damn.

  He looked at the front stairs, at the thick grass around them, the sidewalk. Nothing. No marks. No tracks. He turned and ran up one side of the block, scanning the ground – ah! Blood on the pavement. He bent, dipped a finger in the thin smear and brought it to his lips. Sweet. Ian’s or another vampire’s. Probably Ian. Only extreme or sudden violence could cause a vampire to bleed beyond the simple welling that resulted from cuts and scrapes. He doubted Ian had managed to beat her assailant enough to draw blood. This far from the house . . . she’d been attacked, then used the paperweight to beat off her attacker, run this far, and fallen somehow. From the scuff marks left on the pavement, he thought she’d tripped. Injured, then, but not dead. No body, no ash. He saw no further signs of struggle here – Ian had tripped, but hadn’t been taken. She’d continued running.

  Which way? He was in a quiet residential neighborhood, only houses inhabited by families for blocks.

  The marks showed she fell facing north. Towards a corner that gave her three options: left, right or straight ahead.

  If she were smart, she ran down one of the turns. Left. Going right would mean crossing the street, moving into the open. Left meant getting into houses and yards, more hiding places.

  Hand resting on his sword hilt, he took off after her.

  IAN

  I ran down alleys and streets, through yards and over fences, my nose throbbing in time with my boots.

  The nearest street where I could flag a cab was only a few minutes away by car. On foot I might have to run for a while. She might catch me before I reached it. Catch me and kill me. And maybe Josephine and Sebastian, if I couldn’t warn them. Like Emily.

  My chest ached for Emily. I hadn’t loved her, hadn’t known her well enough. Now I never would.

  In an alley, behind a garage, I stopped to rub red from my eyes. My stomach burned for blood. Running made it worse. A stabbing cramp in my middle kept me stooped over. Tears fell off my face and quietly dotted the ground. I probed the cuts on my neck with shaking fingers, scared of what I would find, more frightened of not knowing. The touch stung. I clenched my jaw tight and kept at it.

  The first one, the one that had broken my air, felt awful. Loose skin flapping on either side, two gaping holes I could almost stick a finger into. If I pressed into my neck hard enough, I could feel the kink in the solid tube of my windpipe. It folded under my fingers; I gagged and let it go. As a mortal, I probably would have suffocated several minutes ago.

  The cuts on the back of my neck were shallower, razor slashes crusted with blood. They stung. I reached for my nose and my world went black. My vision came back and then it hurt, a screaming pain that brought more tears to my eyes. I tried again, tensing for the pain, determined to know.

  “Ian,” a voice called.

  I stopped, hand halfway to face.

  “I-an,” she yelled again, sing-songy. “Eee-an, where aaare you?”

  Definitely her. Distant, but how far had I run already? She was tracking me. No matter how far I ran or where I hid, she’d find me. I bolted.

  The voice stopped. Feet started running somewhere behind me.

  She could run faster than me. My only hope was to hide. She’d gotten too close for me to reach a cab. I ran as hard as I could, listening to the footsteps behind me echo my turns, getting louder with every block I took. Catching up. I kept pushing myself, hoping it would be enough, that I could get under cover before she caught me. Because she was going to catch me.

  I turned down one last alley before coming out onto an open street. A busier one by day, but not this late. All the shops had closed. Brick walls echoed my footsteps. The buildings stood inches from each other, sometimes less. Nowhere to hide, no corner to push into.

  The steps behind me stopped. Not veered away or faded off, but stopped. I slowed, listening. Nothing. My own boots drummed the pavement; beyond that, the street was quiet. What happened? Where’d she go?

  Not behind me, and that was enough. I picked up my pace and ran again. Maybe I could make it to a busy street in time. I could see the nearest one down a few blocks, cars zipping past between the rows of buildings.

  Clanging.

  Loud, echoing all around me. It sounded familiar. I searched my mind to place it, couldn’t. I needed to know, in case it might be bad.

  I heard feet hit the ground in the alley ahead of me – fire escape! She’d climbed up one back there, run over the buildings and come down in front of me. Cut me off. I had to turn around and run for all I was worth, try to get out of sight before she reached the mouth of the alley.

  I skidded to a stop, feeling the jolt all through my face. I spun around and switched back the way I’d come. Maybe I could do it. Maybe. Maybe. I heard feet pound the blacktop behind me. I willed my legs to go just a little faster, just long enough to make it around the next corner, just a little farther –

  A heavy, solid weight crashed into me. I sprawled to the ground, hands out to catch myself. The fall was too awkward. I missed, taking it with my shoulder and hip. I heard a wet, muffled crack, like a joint popping. My joint. My leg went numb as my hip flared with pain. I opened my mouth and couldn’t scream.

  She landed on top of me, her weight slamming me against the pavement. I yelped, a hoarse, vomiting sound.

  For a small woman, she weighed a lot. I still tried to throw her off, my teeth grit against the pain. A hand grabbed the side of my face – my head cracked against the pavement –

  The explosion in my head made me forget my hip and shoulder. It occurred to me that she could
kill me like that, one little injury after another. I tried to throw her again, hoping to catch her off balance. Another shove against the pavement. A bone in the side of my face cracked. A whispery moaning sound escaped my mouth.

  “What’s wrong, Ian?” Emily’s voice purred.

  Not Emily, I tried to remember. My vision didn’t come back past gray this time. She rolled me over onto my back. I felt her weight over my hips once I was over. I couldn’t move. My arms and legs wouldn’t listen, like they weren’t mine.

  “I thought you liked me. I thought we were going to be friends.” She leaned close to me, breath cool on my ear. “I thought you wanted to fuck my brains out.”

  I shut my eyes.

  She dropped and kissed my sore, bruised mouth, pressing hard. I wriggled. She grabbed my lip in her teeth. Fangs split it open.

  Sebastian, I thought.

  She drank. I winced while my blood swelled under the cuts. Sweet driblets ran back into my mouth. My stomach gaped in desperate hunger. I struggled, but even my terrified strength had gone. She slammed my head against the pavement to stop me. The world went black. I lost the feel of the pain, of everything. I knew this – I was dying again.

  Sebastian, I pleaded.

  The feel and sound and sight of everything around me flickered in and out, like a bad signal. It made me tired. I wanted more than anything to close my eyes and take a long, long nap. I relaxed, drifted, waiting to fall asleep.

  It didn’t happen. Actually, nothing happened. Nothing at all. I could still feel a vague sense of pain. Nothing else.

  I didn’t feel her let go of my lip. I just noticed all of a sudden that she had. I opened my eyes. At first they wouldn’t open. When they did, it was like controlling my body from remote. I couldn’t make out anything in front of me, and a dizzy nausea swept through me. I shut them.

  Blood.

  Salty liquid on my tongue . . . it filled my mouth until I had to swallow it, a big gulp that hurt going down. It burned my stomach like whiskey when it hit.

  Sebastian.

  “I’m here, Ian.”

  My teeth were clamped hard in skin. I kept them there.

  More.

  I opened my eyes, carefully. Sebastian held me upright, leaned against his chest. My butt felt blacktop through my slacks. I drank.

  He heard me.

  “Yes, I heard. Take as much as you need,” he murmured to me, breath on my face. I relaxed my bite without letting go.

  The blood tasted rich. Cold. Thicker than normal. Sebastian’s. I had my teeth in his wrist. He was hunkered over me, watching me with sparkling worried eyes. I let my teeth out of his wrist. They didn’t come at first. I had to pull them out. I closed my eyes and kept drinking. Probed fang marks with my tongue. I heard Sebastian hiss softly and stopped licking his wrist. There were a few puncture wounds. He’d been bitten more than once. I winced. I’d bitten him more than once.

  The vampire!

  I pulled away. Sebastian took his wrist back.

  “Where is she?” is what my mouth said. My throat just made a horrible gurgling sound. I jerked, startled, and started crying again.

  “More?” Sebastian asked. Guarded. He didn’t want to give me more.

  I wanted more. But I knew what being bitten felt like, what being fed from felt like, and I couldn’t bring myself to ask. I shook my head and tried to sit up, make myself stand. Too dizzy. I wobbled on my feet. The world spun, color mixed with gray so that I couldn’t see anything. I reached for the side of my face. My fingers found a ragged mess. My eye on that side sat too low, the bone cracked beside it. The tears came harder.

  “It will heal, Ian,” Sebastian said beside me.

  I nodded. I couldn’t see straight. Opening my eyes made me dizzy enough to wobble. And I hurt. All over.

  “I’ve got her here. And your phone. Why don’t we get off the street?”

  I nodded again. I still couldn’t feel one of my legs. My hip grated in a way that couldn’t be healthy. I shut my bad eye. Without the bizarre angle it showed me, the dizziness got better.

  Sirens screamed in the distance.

  Sebastian turned his head, tracking the sound. I suddenly noticed another person on the pavement beside us – Emily. I jumped back from her, then regretted it.

  She sat propped against a building, snarling. Her nose was a flat mess. That confused me for a second . . . until I remembered slamming my head into her face. Her legs stuck out in front of her, bent at sickening angles. I flinched, partly at her, partly at her legs. Someone had broken them. Not once, but in a few different places. Both legs.

  Sebastian scooped her over his shoulder, took my elbow, and led me away. I followed, limping, leaning on him harder than I wanted. Refusing to look at Emily over his shoulder.

  We went back the way I had come, a more direct route back to the old brick house. When a police car pulled over to ask us what was going on, Sebastian told them there was nothing to see and to move along. The cops inside nodded and left.

  Emily. There she was, slung over Sebastian’s shoulder, but it wasn’t her. The pure hatred on her face told me that.

  How long had this stranger replaced her? Had I even met Emily? My eyes welled up. I stumbled along beside Sebastian, hurting, crying.

  The walk was long. Torturously long. I wanted to ask, how much further? Each time I thought about it, though, I realized I couldn’t talk.

  And then we reached the house. Sebastian unlocked the doors and popped the trunk of his car. I wondered why until he threw Emily into the tiny trunk. Hard. She yelped.

  “Get in,” Sebastian said to me. “I believe we’ve caught Kent’s murderer. The only one.”

  IAN

  The elevator doors lumbered open. Sebastian stepped off before me, carrying Emily, workman’s boots thunking. I limped into the living room and found a corner to hide in. My hip grated and popped with every step, on fire from the damage in the joint. All I could manage was a snail’s crawl, and even that hurt. Josephine sat still for one silent moment, then shoved herself up off the couch.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  In the center of the living room, Sebastian hauled Emily over his shoulder like a sack. I flinched when she hit the floor. She grunted and glared up at Sebastian, fangs bared. Josephine stopped still like someone had switched her off.

  “Where are Emily and Evan?” Sebastian asked. His calm, level tone bothered me. Like none of this touched him. Like he did this sort of thing all the time.

  The fake Emily hissed. She couldn’t reach me, but I still pushed further into my corner. Josephine watched us like we were on acid, and only we could see or hear the creature crouched on the floor.

  Sebastian drew his sword and pointed it at Not-Emily’s throat.

  I squeezed my eyes shut.

  “Where. Are. Emily. And. Evan?” Sebastian repeated, dangerously careful. I squeezed my eyes shut.

  “She knows where Emily is,” the lookalike said. “Try to get her to tell you!”

  She meant me. My jaw clenched.

  A sudden cracking sound made me jump. Not-Emily screeched, like metal tearing. My eyes snapped open. Sebastian had the flat of his blade aimed at her. Her hands covered her shattered nose while her eyes watered red. He’d whacked her broken nose. My own nose throbbed in sympathy.

  Josephine slid up beside me, her eyes running up and down my battered body as if she couldn’t believe what she saw. She lifted a hand in a comforting gesture, a gesture that stopped uncomfortably short of touching me. “Ian, do you know where Emily is?”

  I nodded, keeping my face turned. I didn’t want to say it out loud.

  “Where, Ian? Where’s Emily?” She asked quietly, but her voice had a high tone. Panic. I shook my head, mouthing the word, refusing to even try to say anything out loud.

  “This isn’t her?”

  I shook my head harder, hid my wet face in my arms.

  “She’s gone, Josephine,” Sebastian said.

  The lights
went out.

  I tried to scream, gurgled instead. Josephine yelped, a short, clipped sound. Sebastian made no noise at all.

  “Was that her?” Josephine whispered.

  “Yes,” Sebastian said. “Hush.”

  She’d turned out the lights? How the hell did she do that?

  I heard Sebastian and Josephine moving around – at least, I hoped that was who I heard. I stayed rigid, straining my eyes, looking even for black on black in the room. It didn’t matter if I opened my eyes or shut them, everything looked the same. I pressed back into my corner, waiting for the feel of hands grabbing at me, of teeth in my neck again.

  The lights flicked back on. No one had gotten me, and having the lights on gave me a second of relief – until I remembered that she didn’t need the lights out to hurt me. Sebastian and Josephine stopped moving, glanced at each other, then at me.

  “Did you hear anything?” Josephine asked.

  “Nothing.”

  I shook my head, but that hurt so I stopped.

  “Stay here,” Sebastian said, and vanished down the hall. To the practice room. That puzzled me for one second, and then I remembered all the knives and swords he had hanging on the wall. If whoever-that-was got hold of the stuff he had in there . . . I shivered.

  “Emily?” Josephine asked, wringing her hands together. I shook my head again, suddenly choking.

  Josephine made a soft noise. “No,” she said, but I could see on her face that she knew. “Oh, no, no.”

  A heavy ache filled my chest. Josephine clutched her graceful hands to her shoulders as her own tears ran down her face, then reached out for me. I let her pull me to her.

  “Oh, Emily,” she said again and again, holding me tight.

  A tiny breath of cold air brushed my face. I jerked my head up – what the –

  The patio door was open. A fraction of an inch. Not even enough to notice if you didn’t think to look for it. That door hadn’t been open before. Another cool breeze blew past, fluttering my hair across my face. I tapped Josephine’s shoulder. She lifted her head wearily, meeting my eyes with a dull expression. I pointed at the door. She turned to it slowly, like moving hurt her, and stared at it for a second as if she didn’t even know what it was. I thought about flapping my arms to convey how important this was, but then her eyes flew open.