Magic & Memory

by Larsen, A. L.

  “Why?” The question held a lifetime of misery in its single syllable.

  “Because Augustine forced you.”

  “Who’s Augustine?” That name stirred a faint recognition in Alastair, something his own name had failed to do.

  “Alastair, are you just messing with me, or is something really wrong here? I mean, you’re acting like you can’t remember anything, but you and I both know that’s impossible.” Joey leaned forward, his hands on his knees, and tried to make eye contact with Alastair, who was staring fixedly at the wool rug in front of the fireplace.

  “Please, before I answer your questions, answer a few more of mine. Who is Augustine?”

  A crease of concern appeared between Joey’s eyebrows as he searched Alastair’s face. “He’s the vampire that made you. And he’s a total dick.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “If we’re lucky,” Joey said, “He’s someplace really, really far away from here.”

  “Why do you say that?” Alastair finally made eye contact with Joey. Lu, meanwhile, perched on the armrest at the far end of the couch, watching this exchange in stunned silence.

  “Because he’s looking for you, as usual, and we’re on the run from him, also as usual.”

  “Why is he looking for me?”

  “Oh, let’s see -- because he’s infatuated with you, because he can’t stand being disobeyed, because his collection is not nearly as spectacular without you, his crown jewel, in it….” Joey leaned back and crossed his legs at the ankles, apparently having resigned himself to the fact that this conversation was going to go on for a while.

  “Collection?”

  “Augustine collects everything: art, antiques, houses, cars. But mostly he collects people. He’s really into rare specimens, which is part of the reason you’re so special to him. It doesn’t get much rarer than you.”

  “But you’re a vampire just like I am, right? I can’t be that rare.”

  “Uh, yeah, you and I are both vampires. But you’re one of a kind.”

  Lu had been watching the whole exchange wide-eyed, somehow trying to process all of this. She now asked, “He’s something besides a vampire?”

  Joey turned his green eyes to her. “He was nephilim -- half human, half angel when he was turned. And now he’s the only vampire-angel hybrid that I’ve ever heard of.”

  Lu just stared at him.

  Joey gave her a sympathetic smile, then grew serious as he turned his attention back to Alastair, watching him for a long moment before saying, “Are you ok, Allie? Seriously. Why do you want me to tell you all of this?” He slid forward so he was perched on the edge of the hearth and picked up Alastair’s left hand, turning it over gently to examine the big clumsy bandage. “And what’s happening here, exactly?”

  In one quick motion Joey shucked off the gauze. The hand he revealed was dark pink, scarred and mottled, but in no way charred and blistered as it had been when the bandage went on.

  “I burned myself, but I don’t know how.” Alastair blinked in surprise and flexed his fingers. “Wow, it’s really healed up.”

  “As soon as you feed again it’ll heal the rest of the way. By tomorrow it’ll be good as new,” Joey told him. After a moment he implored, “Alastair, please. Tell me what’s going on.”

  Alastair sighed and met Joey’s eyes. “I woke up day before yesterday beside a creek with my hand on fire. I don’t remember how I got there, or anything at all about my life prior to that moment. I don’t even have a clue how the fire happened.”

  “Was it daytime?” Joey asked, his voice subdued.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s amazing the rest of you didn’t burn. Your hand must have been in the sun while your body was under some kind of cover.”

  Alastair stared at him in disbelief. “I burn in the sun?”

  “Well, yeah. Part of the whole super fab vampire thing. Although it takes a lot longer for you to ignite than a regular vampire, thanks to your angel blood. It makes you stronger, too.” Joey looked him in the eye. “Alastair, this amnesia, or whatever you’re talking about -- there’s kind of no way. That can’t happen to you, any more than you could catch a cold. You really don’t remember anything?”

  “Nothing,” Alastair said. Then he asked, “Where was I the last time you saw me?”

  “We were in our motel room here in town. It was four days ago, a little after sunset.”

  “Four days? I’ve only been here for two, so two days are unaccounted for.” Alastair mused. Then he asked, “What was I doing?”

  “You were going to go out and patrol, but you promised to come back by ten so we could go see a movie.” Joey smiled then and said, “You think movies are a colossal waste of time, but once in a rare while you indulge me.”

  “And you wrote me a reminder,” Alastair said.

  “You remember?”

  “No, I found the note in my pocket. That’s how I knew my name.”

  “Ah. Anyway, you’d just taken a shower and were getting dressed, and I went in to take my shower. When I came out, you were gone. I noticed that you’d left without your shoes, which was odd. And then you never came back.”

  Alastair leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes, pressing a hand to his forehead. After a while he said, “Why am I one of a kind? Why aren’t there others like me?”

  “Well, normally nephilim and vampires are too busy chopping each other’s heads off to try to bring anyone over. They’re sworn enemies. Plus, their physiology is totally different, so it shouldn’t be possible to turn an angel, even a half-angel into a vampire. But Augustine had to try it. Experiments like that fascinate him, sick son of a bitch.” Joey shook his head.

  Then he continued, “Since his one success in creating you, he’s tried to turn nephilim into vampires a bunch more times. But the transformation always kills them. The change almost killed you, actually, from what I’ve been told. Apparently it’s sort of a miracle that you survived.”

  Sadness thinned out Alastair’s voice. “He keeps trying to make more like me? And they keep dying?”

  “Yeah. That’s part of the reason nephilim are close to extinction now. I mean, not that there were tons of them to begin with.”

  “And are there many vampires?” Alastair asked, his voice almost a whisper.

  “There are way too many of those bastards,” Joey sneered.

  “You don’t group yourself in with other vampires?” Lu chimed in from the far end of the sofa.

  “Nope.”

  “Any why is that, exactly?” she asked.

  Joey met her gaze. “From the very beginning, Alastair taught me to be different. He struggled to get me to hold on to my humanity, to not lose sight of what I used to be.” He shot a glance at Alastair. “And it’s a damn good thing you succeeded, too.”

  “Why is that?” Alastair asked him.

  “Cuz bro, if I’d turned out to be a typical vampire, you wouldn’t have hesitated to hunt me down and kill me. Like you do with all the rest of them.”

  The room was silent for a few moments after Joey spoke. Eventually Alastair asked quietly, “I kill other vampires?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “So when you said I was heading out to patrol the night I disappeared, I was patrolling….”

  “For vampires to kill.”

  “And are there many vampires in this town?” Alastair asked, staring into the fire.

  Joey shrugged. “I kinda doubt it. It’s too small. It usually takes a hefty population base for vamps to live undetected. But you’re relentless that way. Wherever we are, you’re always hunting.” Then Joey added, “The town does seem to be lousy with werewolves though. Go figure.”

  Lu hoped he was kidding. She asked, “What were you two doing in Ashland, anyway?”

  “We got stuck here,” Joey explained. “We were driving from Seattle to San Francisco. It was just supposed to be one night, when snow closed the pass on Interstate 5 south of town. On that Sasquatch Summit
, or whatever.”

  “Siskiyou Summit,” Lu corrected.

  “Yeah, that,” Joey nodded. He looked at Alastair. “But then you went running off. I still don’t know why you’d do that, or what could possibly wipe your memories. Well, unless….”

  Alastair focused sharply on Joey. “What?”

  “When we were in Seattle, we heard a rumor that Augustine was messing with witchcraft again. Not that magic should be capable of altering a vampire’s mind like this. But maybe Augustine managed to tap into something really powerful. Who knows?”

  “Magic,” Lu was muttering. “Jeez.”

  “Would anyone else want to harm me besides my maker?” Alastair asked quietly.

  “Oh yeah. You have a whole list of enemies, including every vampire everywhere. They all despise you for turning on your own kind,” Joey said. “The few remaining nephilim also want you dead. There’s a small group of them called the Order that’s always hunting you. To them you’re Public Enemy Number One, a super strong vampire with knowledge of their world. That makes you a huge threat.”

  Then Joey shrugged and added, “Short-sighted if you ask me, since you go around doing their job for them by killing other vampires. It’s stupid for human vampire hunters to go after you for the same reason, but some have made killing you their personal mission. So anyway yeah, no shortage of enemies.”

  Alastair exhaled slowly, then said, “Yet out of all those enemies, what makes you suspect Augustine is responsible for whatever happened to my memories?”

  “Because everyone else would’ve just gone with a nice pointy stick through your heart.”

  “So maybe I need to find this Augustine person and have a talk with him.”

  Joey shook his head. “Uh, no. Augustine’s extremely dangerous. You can’t just go talk to him.”

  “Then what do I do?”

  “A witch could tell us if magic was used on you. And if it does turn out to be a spell that knocked out your memories, maybe they could lift it.”

  Lu shook her head and muttered, “Jeez. Witches.” Then she asked, “Do we have any witches in Ashland?”

  Joey clicked his tongue. “Probably just the wanna-be variety. I know where we can find a real warlock, though.”

  “And where’s that?” Lu wanted to know.

  “San Francisco. His name’s Bryn Maddock.”

  “What did you say his name is?” Lu asked.

  “Bryn. Rhymes with grin,” Joey said, grinning at her as if to illustrate.

  Alastair asked, “Do you think I can trust him?”

  “For sure. He’s a good friend of ours.”

  “Ok,” said Alastair, rising to his feet. “So I need to go to San Francisco and try to get some answers. And as quickly as possible, given how many people are apparently trying to kill me. Right now I wouldn’t even recognize any of my enemies, which makes me incredibly vulnerable.”

  “Sure,” said Joey, rising too and holding Alastair’s gaze. “We can go to San Francisco. But you didn’t drink enough earlier, you still need to rebuild your strength. So we can go right after you have some more to eat.”

  Lu made a nervous noise, and Joey sighed dramatically as he shot her a look and said, “Not you, Cupcake.” Then in one swift move, he tore his own wrist open on his suddenly extended fangs and held it in front of Alastair’s face.

  For a moment, Alastair considered refusing. But then the scent of blood slammed into his senses, overwhelming him, and without thinking he clutched Joey’s arm and drank deeply.

  Lu turned away with a shiver. And Joey pressed his eyes shut, grinding his teeth as he braced himself against the fireplace mantel with his free hand.

  It lasted only a minute or two. Lu turned back when she heard one of them exhale. Alastair was standing with his back to both of them, his head bowed.

  Joey quickly licked his wrist, which immediately stopped the bleeding. He looked vulnerable, upset for just a moment, but he composed himself quickly.

  And then suddenly his entire body quivered, his alert eyes scanning the windows as he said in low voice, “You did that just in time, Allie.”

  “Why?” asked Alastair, turning to look at him.

  “Because,” Joey replied, “they just found us.”

  Chapter Eight

  Everything started happening really fast after that. Joey said, “You feeling stronger, Allie?”

  Alastair nodded. “Much.”

  “Good, because we’re going to need to run for it. I assume you want to save her.” Joey inclined his head in Lu’s direction. She was staring at both boys wide-eyed.

  “Of course,” Alastair said.

  “Ok,” Joey was saying. “You’ll need to carry her, because we’ll have to move as fast as possible. Head straight out the front door and stick to the woods. Go that way.” He pointed east. “Get to town as fast as you can, they probably won’t follow us into a populated area. If we get separated, our car is parked behind the Cedarwood Inn. Lu can probably tell you where that is.”

  “What’s happening?” Lu was asking. “Who found you?”

  “I hear at least a half a dozen of them,” Joey was saying. “Three to each side of the house and closing fast.” He hiked up the cuff of his jeans and pulled a short dagger from a sheath that was strapped to his leg.

  “I hear them too,” Alastair said.

  “What’s closing fast?” Lu’s voice sounded high-pitched to her, bordering on hysterical. She spun toward the bank of windows along the far wall and saw nothing but their own reflections against the blackness outside.

  Just then the silence of the forest was split by a piercing howl. “But there are no wolves in Ashl--” she started to say. In the next instant, she was slung over Alastair’s shoulder and he was racing out the door.

  He was moving impossibly fast. Lu raised her head and stared at her little home, lit from within and receding rapidly. In a moment several large shapes appeared silhouetted in front of the house. They looked like dogs, only bigger. Much bigger.

  In another instant the woods closed in and the house disappeared from view.

  Alastair’s arm was locked tightly around her as he leapt over logs and zigzagged around trees so quickly that Lu thought she might pass out. She could hear their pursuers, not far behind. The animals’ big heavy bodies crashed through the underbrush, their breathing jagged, and occasionally one let out a low, menacing growl. She shivered with fear, scanning the forest behind them, trying to make out shapes in the swirling blackness.

  Alastair switched his hold on her abruptly, lifting Lu off his shoulder and cradling her against his chest. She held on tight and buried her face against his shoulder, pressing her eyes shut.

  From somewhere close beside them Joey called out, “Keep going! Don’t stop for anything! I’m going to see if I can improve our odds a bit.” And he peeled off to the right, vanishing into the forest.

  Soon after, a blood-curdling scream rang out somewhere behind them, not quite animal but not human either. Lu shuddered, her heart beating wildly in her chest, and held on tighter to Alastair.

  A snarl, followed by a yip like that of an injured dog, was next. She and Alastair could hear the animal closest to them changing direction, veering toward the sound of the yelp. Alastair hesitated, thinking about going to help Joey. He slowed for just a moment and Lu cried out, “No! Don’t stop! He told you to keep going, do what he said!”

  Alastair picked up speed again, and in another few seconds faint lights were streaking past them. They’d broken out of the tree line and were cutting through a residential neighborhood. A dog barked somewhere nearby, and Lu jumped in Alastair’s arms. He said soothingly, his lips close to her ear, “It’s ok. I won’t let anything hurt you.” He tightened his grip on her, never slowing his pace. Then he asked, “Do you know where that hotel is that Joey mentioned?”

  It was hard to think clearly in the face of overwhelming fear, but she managed to say, “To the right on Siskiyou. The big main street, you’re head
ing straight for it. The motel’s maybe two miles down.”

  He ran right down the center of Siskiyou Boulevard. There were plenty of cars around this early in the evening, pedestrians too. But Alastair was travelling so fast that at best he’d be a blur to anyone that was even able to notice him.

  At the motel Alastair finally slowed to a walk, then set Lu down. She bent over, hands on her knees, her entire body vibrating with adrenaline as she tried not to throw up. After a few moments she straightened up and looked over her shoulder, expecting one of those creatures to appear at any second, and reached for Alastair. He took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

  Alastair had stopped in the middle of a parking lot at the back of the motel and was surveying the row of cars. A family of tourists exiting a minivan stared at him, gaping at his bare torso and feet, the pajama pants, the wild black hair tousled around his beautiful face. The parents quickly shepherded their children out of the lot.

  “Which one do you think is ours?” he asked. She thought he seemed surprisingly calm. And his breathing was slow and even despite the death-defying sprint.

  Lu spared a glance at the cars before looking back over her shoulder. “The one on the far right. You’d probably need tinted windows if you burn in the sun,” she murmured, feeling the cold wetness of the pavement seeping into her socks.

  “Smart girl,” said Joey, appearing abruptly beside them. They both turned to look at him. His chin was dark red, as was the front of his formerly white t-shirt. Lu’s mouth fell open, and Joey lightly took hold of her shoulders and propelled her toward the old black Chevy Impala she’d pointed out.

  He slid behind the wheel, and first Lu and then Alastair scooted in beside him on the big front seat. The powerful engine roared to life and Joey calmly pulled out onto the boulevard, heading south. “I don’t think they’re following us,” he said. “I took out two of them and injured a third. The rest of the pack sort of lost its motivation after that.”

  Alastair asked, “What were those things?”

  “Weres,” Joey said casually.

  “Weres?” Alastair echoed.