In the Dark

by Melody Taylor

  Slowly the spasms got weaker, then less frequent. Finally stopped. My stomach grumbled, yawning hungry, but so sick the thought of eating brought on more spasms. I hid my broken face in my arms and cried.

  Hands on me. They rolled me onto my back, lifted me. My entire body protested the movement. I should have been dead. Or in a coma.

  Instead, I couldn’t even moan while someone picked me up, all too aware of how alive I was. It had to be Sebastian lifting me. I didn’t dare open my eyes to check.

  He carried me out of the library and down a bit, through a door. I felt myself being lowered, felt the bed sink under my weight. I kept my eyes shut, didn’t move. Unsure if I even could move.

  “Get some rest,” he said.

  I heard him leave. Heard the door click shut.

  No way I could relax even a little. I could hear movement in the apartment, told myself I knew it was only Sebastian and Josephine. Couldn’t help worrying that maybe it wasn’t.

  Only a few minutes later, my bedroom door opened again. My stomach clenched as I turned to look, unable to move even to hide.

  Sebastian stepped in again, carrying Josephine. He set her on the bed beside me, gently, her body pressing the mattress down. Without a word, he settled himself into the huge stuffed chair in the corner of the room. Josephine sighed and set one hand on my arm.

  When the sun came up some undetermined time later, I fell deeply, deeply asleep.

  IAN

  When I opened my eyes, I was alone. My body had entirely healed overnight. My muscles were stiff. It felt like I had worked out too hard the day before. Nothing worse than that.

  I groaned. My throat felt a little gritty and sore, but the sound came out like it should. I got up and stripped out of my slacks and my cute little wrap-around – with the blood stains all over it. I left my clothes on the floor and got in the shower.

  To what delight I had left, Sebastian’s system had excellent water pressure and heat. I cranked up the hot and let the water pound my neck and shoulders until my fingers wrinkled. I stared at the shrivels on my fingers. Funny how that was what convinced me to wait up for the sun one morning. I didn’t know much about corpses. I didn’t know they absorbed water and wrinkled. I had thought that might mean I was still alive, even though I drank blood. So I’d waited up. To see.

  The sun had hurt, like being dropped in boiling water. I’d screamed. When Kent came running, he’d gotten burned too, though not as bad as me. I felt guilty about that, but kind of honored, too. He’d risked himself to save me, coming within seconds of my scream, rescuing me when I couldn’t run.

  When I told him why I did it, he just shook his head and started explaining. That had been my Anatomy 101. Kent told me about being dead and some of what our bodies did because of the blood. When I’d asked why he hadn’t told me that before, he said he thought he had time. He was getting around to explaining.

  He always did that. Put anything important or serious off until he had to deal with it. He could always find something fun to do instead of taking care of boring business.

  With a small streak of anger, I wondered when he’d planned on telling me anything.

  The anger faded fast. He hadn’t planned on getting killed. He would have told me, in his own time. I couldn’t be mad at my best friend for not seeing the future.

  I wasn’t really relaxing under the spray, so I turned off the water and got out.

  Steam rolled out of the bathroom with me. Josephine lay across the bed, trying to entice an uncertain Gypsy to sniff her fingers. I startled when I saw a person in the room, recognizing Josephine before I could shriek. That should have relaxed me, but instead a different tension grabbed me when I recognized her. She wasn’t a threat, no, but maybe – maybe she hated me.

  If she was actually Josephine.

  I tried to tell myself I was being paranoid. I wished I could believe it.

  She gave up on Gypsy and sat up when I came into the room. Smiled. I tried to smile back, then busied myself digging through my travel bag for clean clothes. My bloodied clothes from yesterday I kicked under the bed. I never wanted to see them again.

  While I dressed, Josephine sighed and smoothed her white dress over her knees.

  “I thought we should talk.”

  For a second, I was so caught up in wondering if she was Josephine that I wondered what we should talk about. Then I remembered. Last night. Me pressed into a corner helplessly while she was nearly killed. She wanted to offer me forgiveness. Or if she thought I deserved honesty, she’d tell me how I’d disappointed her.

  She met my face again. “You must have a lot of questions about him.”

  Oh. Kent. I cleared my throat uncomfortably. “Yeah. I do.”

  She folded her hands on her knees and waited. I bit my lip, then shrugged and opened my mouth.

  Shut it again.

  “I don’t know what to ask.” I shrugged expansively. “I mean, obviously he didn’t tell me everything, but I never felt like it. You know?” I shook my head. “It’s like I didn’t even know him.” That had been my worst fear this whole time. It hurt worse once I said it.

  I looked away and clenched my jaw while Josephine waited in silence for me to sort my head out. Not easy. Finally I shrugged. “Tell me everything.”

  Josephine lifted one eyebrow, then nodded. “I suppose you probably know his general history?” When I shrugged again, she went on. “He was born in England two hundred and forty odd year ago, the fourth or fifth son of a minor noble. He was changed at around twenty-three or so, by a man he was having an affair with behind his family’s back. After a while they split up and he traveled. He came to Seattle when the music here began to take off.”

  “I knew about how old he was. I didn’t know any of the rest.” I folded myself to sit with my knees to my chest in the fat armchair in the corner.

  Josephine nodded. “The first thing he did when he arrived here was visit others in town – it’s sort of a tradition, if our kind has any. We tend to be a paranoid, territorial group, and finding other vampires on your feeding grounds can be rather upsetting. So he came to ask if I minded if he stayed.”

  “I take it you didn’t?”

  Josephine laughed. “Goodness, no. It actually surprised me there weren’t a few more in town . . . I suppose Sebastian has something to do with that. But no, once I got to know him, I didn’t mind Kent staying. And we actually hit it off fairly quickly.”

  “So you knew him before he knew me?”

  “Quite a while, yes. He told me he wanted a child, but that he wanted to wait until the right person came along.”

  If she’d wanted to make me smile, it worked. I ducked my head.

  “We talked often,” Josephine went on. “He didn’t tell me all the places he’d been, or everything he’d done, but he told me some. He had so many stories –”

  “Oh, I know! He’d just pull one out of thin air, voila. ‘When I was in Germany . . .’ ‘A Zen Master once told me . . .’ And he never told the same story twice.”

  Josephine laughed. “That was Kent. But here. Did you know he was psychic?”

  My eyebrows jumped. “Psychic? Like, reading minds?”

  Josephine nodded. “He was actually quite good. I get hunches, what will happen in the next few seconds or minutes. Sometimes I can change it, sometimes I can’t. But Kent could look right inside a person’s mind.”

  Psychic. That was a biggy.

  “Why didn’t he –” I stopped. There was no answer to that question.

  “He said he wanted to wait and see if you had the same ability,” Josephine said, like that might explain. “He said it skipped generations, and he didn’t know if you’d inherited it or not. His own father couldn’t read minds, but passed the ability to Kent when he made him.”

  That still didn’t explain – to me, anyhow – why he’d kept it to himself. He could have said that to me.

  “I think . . .” Josephine leaned forward on her knees, her face soft and
serious. About to deliver bad news. “I think he worried about you. His own father . . . Kent’s father killed the one who made him, because he didn’t inherit this psychic ability. Apparently, Kent’s grandfather was rather proud of it, and he picked on Kent’s father for not having it. Eventually, the torment drove Kent’s father to murder. I think Kent wanted to avoid upsetting you.”

  “He thought I might kill him?” It came out a squeak. As soon as I said it, I knew it was stupid. Kent knew me better than that.

  “No.” Josephine shook her head. “No, no. Kent loved you and trusted you, I know that more than anything else. I don’t believe he thought that at all. I think he saw what feeling so inadequate did to his own father, and he didn’t want you to go through that if it turned out his ability skipped you. That’s all.”

  I nodded as if that made me feel better. But I was gnawing on another worry. Kent’s maker had murdered his own maker. And Kent had loved that man, at least for a while.

  What a lovely family. We must have a reunion.

  “That was why I asked you what you felt when –” Josephine stopped short, a pained look on her face.

  What I felt when he died.

  I shrugged. If I didn’t start talking about it now, I might not ever.

  “I had a feeling something was wrong.” I clenched my hands together. “But it was more like you said. A hunch. A pretty right-on hunch, but that’s it.”

  Josephine nodded. “You might not have fully developed it yet. You’re still very young.”

  “Ah.” I bit my lip. “I feel like I have no idea who Kent really was. I mean, he was in love with a murderer? And now he’s dead because of something he did centuries ago. Why wait that long to kill someone? Who would hold a grudge like that?”

  Josephine shook her head. “I don’t know. Kent caused a lot of trouble in his time. I’d heard stories of him from others, before I met him here. He was . . . not a nice man for a while. I must confess I wasn’t exactly thrilled to find him on my doorstep at first. A lot of people could be angry with him, and I’m afraid . . .” she paused, then let it out. “I’m afraid vampires don’t view killing the same way humans do. Humans can be taught to kill, strained enough, insane enough . . . with us, murder simply comes naturally.”

  I didn’t understand her at first. I was thinking of Kent, wondering whose skin he’d gotten under, why they’d hate me as much as him.

  She shrugged, helpless. “I know. It’s paralyzing, to see that look on another vampire’s face and realize they will kill you if they can. I know,” her voice lowered a significant octave, “why you couldn’t help me last night.”

  Slap.

  Only in my head, but I still stared as if she really had decked me.

  She meant it. No sarcasm, no anger, no disappointment. How could I react to this?

  I think I want to cry.

  Before I could think of other options, my throat closed.

  She hadn’t said she forgave. She said she knew.

  “Oh, my dear.” Josephine stood. I barely saw her float over to me through the blood in my eyes, choking on sobs I tried to hold in.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, for the tears. They got worse all at once, when I knew why else I needed to apologize. “I’m sorry,” I said again, my voice more ragged. Her arms settled around my shoulders. The hug felt very bad and very good at the same time.

  “I’m sorry,” I repeated. She shushed in my ear, rocking me. I stayed rigid, not quite wanting to pull away, not quite deserving enough to be held.

  “I made it, didn’t I?” she said. “You probably couldn’t have done anything to him if you tried, but you moved at just the right time.” She brushed my hair away from my face, then set her hand gently against my sternum. “And I saw what happened because you did. Thank you.”

  I bawled.

  Josephine held me, and after a while that made it seem better than worse.

  I cried until the pain shrank back to manageable, until the tears slowed enough that I felt like I could hiccup to a stop. She kept holding me. I kept still, embarrassed, waiting for her to let go of me. She stayed where she was, though, arms around me, until my embarrassment began to fade.

  “Better?” she asked after a while.

  Rubbing my sore eyes, I nodded. I’d had enough crying for a year and a half. To my surprise, she set her head against my shoulder.

  “Oh, good,” she said, breathily.

  I knew that watery sound in her voice.

  I hugged her while she cried, rubbed her back. And felt like more of a person than I had all week. I couldn’t believe just hugging her would make me feel better, but it did.

  Once I felt that – strength – she suddenly didn’t seem like the hardest person to be around anymore. Not if I could give her this.

  She didn’t cry as long as I had. Almost like she’d done this before and knew how to get through it faster. Maybe she did. At any rate, she squeezed me once after a few minutes.

  “I planned to go home tonight. You?”

  I nodded.

  “You’re welcome to stay with me,” she said. “I’d think it’d be lonely at home.”

  The house might seem more empty without Kent in it. That didn’t matter as much to me as just being there. Home. Besides, I could tell she meant her home would be lonely more than she meant mine. As much as I felt bad for her, I needed my own space.

  “Why don’t you get a hold of me sometime?” I offered instead. She needed company, and after I had some time to think I would probably need some, too.

  She nodded, offering me a sort of shy smile. Then she stood and offered me a hand up. To my surprise, she leaned forward to kiss me on the cheek. “I wish we could have met under better circumstances. Please call if you need me. For anything.”

  “You too.” I tried to act like beautiful women kissed me affectionately all the time. She squeezed my hand and left the room. With a sigh, I grabbed my things and followed out behind her.

  I found Sebastian in the living room, standing in front of his dusty little TV with his arms crossed. Watching the news. He leaned forward to flip it off when I came in.

  “Good evening, Ian.”

  “Hi.”

  He waited in silence for me to say something else. I poked my toe at a knot in the floor boards.

  “I’m going home.” I had a feeling he knew that already. He probably knew a lot more about me than I did about him. He would have to be able to look at a person and tell things about them, in order to guess the best ways to take them down. I hadn’t believed he was a killer. I thought I had, but I hadn’t. Not until last night.

  He handed me a scrap of paper. I glanced down at it and saw a phone number in heavy, easy lines.

  “Call me,” he said.

  I nodded distantly. “Yeah. We could do something sometime.”

  He smiled slightly, more of a twitch in his lips than anything. “You need training. You are without your father. If you would like, I will train you.”

  There was that word again. “Father.” It didn’t feel wrong, quite, but not right, either. I thought about Kent racing up the stairs to carry me away from the sun when I screamed. Wouldn’t any father risk himself to save his daughter? I let it slide. I would need some time to think about that one.

  “Thanks,” I said, slipping the number into my pocket. I wasn’t sure if I’d call him or not. Maybe in a few days. I needed a little time alone first.

  “Tomorrow,” he said, as if it had been decided. “Come once you’ve fed.”

  I blinked. Well, why not? He had a point about my needing training. “All right.”

  He tilted his head in reply.

  I called Gypsy and almost burst into tears of relief when she came trotting out of the back hall. I scooped her up, holding her close for a second to hide the red wetness in my eyes until it cleared.

  “See you,” I said, and started for the elevator.

  “Ian,” Sebastian said from behind me. I stopped and turned around.

&
nbsp; “Do not assume you are out of danger.” My middle did a flip. “There is the possibility he was not working alone.”

  I shook my head. I didn’t want to hear that. I wanted this done, done, done. “He said it was just him. When he still looked like Emily. He said he thought it was funny that you didn’t know it was just him.”

  Sebastian’s eyes flashed once. “Nonetheless, the possibility does exist. Be careful.”

  “I promise,” I said. “I’ll call you the second anything suspicious happens.”

  He nodded once without a word. I hit the button for the elevator. Maybe I belonged to this creepy, unreal vampire world now, but I wanted a vacation from it. A long one.

  The elevator hummed happily to the top floor, repaired while we slept. Daytime, and for mortals, life went on. I got on, turned and held up one hand. Sebastian nodded. The elevator doors slid shut.

  I caught a cab outside Sebastian’s place. Told the driver where to take me and settled in for the ride. Wondered what to do once I got home. I needed to take care of some things: the broken window and screens, my car in that parking lot. I couldn’t bring myself to deal with that stuff right away, though. I needed some time. Needed to process. Needed to go through Kent’s things.

  Maybe getting the windows fixed first would be a better idea.

  With a sigh, I pulled out my cell phone. The “missed calls” icon flashed at me when I flipped it open. I could guess from who. Dark Rage. Wondering where their lead singer had vanished to. I ignored the messages and dialed my mom. She picked up after three rings.

  “Mom, it’s me.” I paused. Sniffed once and then let it out. “Um, Mom? Mom, Kent’s dead.”

  PART 2

  IAN

  Doorbell.

  I managed – barely – to crack one eye open. The sun had to be high in the sky, a lead weight holding me down. Too early to move.

  * * *

  Doorbell again. Didn’t even open an eye. Go away. Nobody here but us vampires.