by J. S. Malcom
I know I’ve already been more than my share of nosy for tonight, but I’m curious. “How many years?”
“A hundred and forty-seven,” Nora says. “But who’s counting, right?”
It shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it still does. I guess because she looks so young.
“Did you, um, grow up here?” I’m not quite sure how to phrase it since she never quite finished growing up.
After a moment, Nora says, “Charleston. So, not too far, but it might as well have been a million miles back then.”
The sadness in her voice tells me I shouldn’t have asked. Which, now that I think about it, should have been obvious. I can’t imagine there being a whole lot of happy vampire stories. So, I keep my response neutral. “I’ve never been to Charleston. I heard it’s nice.”
My guess is that we’ll move on from there, but Nora says. “It was nice back then. Totally different, of course. A little seaport city, basically. Still kind of poor after the Civil War, but starting to bounce back. Honestly, I didn’t think much about the war or any of that growing up. I guess because my family had money.”
Since she’s willing to talk about it, I say, “Did you have brothers and sisters?”
Nora shakes her head. “No, it was just me. Which I think made things worse. Maybe if I wasn’t the only child…”
Her voice trails off, and I’m not sure what to say. I look out over the park, where the moon keeps sinking toward the horizon.
Nora sighs. “So, my father was sort of a big deal. He was the co-owner of one of the shipping companies. My mother was pretty much your typical southern belle. Very into fashion, parties, all that. Which was fine with me, until they decided it was time for me to get married. I was nineteen.”
“Seems a little young.”
“I felt the same way, but it really wasn’t back then. So, I guess I should have expected it. Regardless, it still seemed like it fell out of the sky. Denial, I guess.”
“Sure,” I say. “You were just a kid.”
A moment passes and Nora says. “Basically, but it wasn’t just that. And it wasn’t really even the guy they wanted me to marry. He was okay.”
I glance over at her again. “You just didn’t have feelings for him?”
Nora’s eyes meet mine. She shrugs. “Well, that and I didn’t really like boys.”
“Oh.”
Nora nods. “Right, oh. But I couldn’t admit that, obviously. I barely understood it myself. I thought something had to be wrong with me. But I refused to get married. Things got bad. Then they got worse. And one day I just ran away.”
I figure we’re in this deep already, so there’s no point in pretending otherwise. “So, is that when you came here?”
“No, that was still a ways off. I ended up in Charlotte for a while, where I managed to find work as a nanny. But there were problems with that too, since I caught the eye of my mistress’s husband. She decided I might be a little less attractive if I had a few bruises on my face. So, obviously, that didn’t work out. From there, I wandered up to Raleigh. Only, this time I didn’t find work at all. At that point, I was dirty, scared and half-starved. I knew I’d made a mistake, and I figured it was time to head home again. Only, I was out of money and had no prospects. So, like many a desperate girl before me…”
Nora lets her words trail off again, but her meaning is clear. Before I utter a useless response, she continues.
“It was called the Brick House Tavern. Pretty much what you’d think. A saloon mostly, some food if anyone wanted it. Pool and poker. A real gentleman’s club. And, of course, there were women. Well, girls, really. Of course, that’s where the real money was being made.” She pauses. “But look, that was a million years ago. And, well, obviously I was a different person. Besides, pretty soon I met Claire and everything changed.”
Nora puts just enough emphasis on the word “everything” that I suspect what she means. To be on the safe side, I just say, “Who was Claire?”
Nora’s voice brightens. “Well, one night I decided to take a walk in a park quite a bit like this one. I planned on it being my last night in Raleigh. I figured I had enough money squirreled away to make it back home. Anyway, I was strolling under the stars when I met a very interesting lady. Just a little older than me. Very well dressed, mysterious, and undeniably attractive. Well, let’s just say that she liked me, I liked her, and one thing led to another. I didn’t leave Raleigh the next day, and I never returned to Charleston.”
So, I was right. When she said “everything,” she meant that “everything.” But it also means I was wrong about something else. “So, I guess you weren’t turned against your will.”
Nora shakes her head. “Right. I knew what Claire was. Or, at least, as best as I could understand it. But it didn’t matter. For me to be with her, truly be with her, something had to change. Just for the record, I know how often it goes the other way—more often than not, as you probably suspect—but she didn’t force it on me. She never even pressured me. I made the choice.”
I know there are those who choose to be vampires, but I’ve always imagined it differently. Something resulting from a lust for immortality, the desire to be powerful, or an attraction to the darker side of our nature. It never occurred to me that it could result from love. At the same time, Nora hasn’t mentioned Claire being one of those who perished last night.
I hesitate, but then say, “Something happened to Claire, didn’t it?”
Nora nods. “Yes, about thirty years after we met. Somehow the hunters found out about her. They killed her. Veil witches aren’t the only ones who kill vampires. They’re just the only ones who use magic.”
Her words sting, but there’s no accusation in her voice. Like before, she’s just stating the facts. The way things are. I guess when you’ve lived as long as she has, it’s easier to accept.
I’m about to ask how those vampire hunters didn’t find her, and how she ended up living here, but suddenly she perches forward.
“We need to move. Right now.” Nora jumps up, about to run off, but then turns back. “Come on!”
I jump to my feet, following Nora as she starts running back to where we entered the park. “What the hell is it?” I look through the darkness, still seeing nothing.
Nora is getting ahead of me, gaining distance fast. I guess she can’t help it. Then she stops. She stands stock still, sniffing the air.
“Oh, shit,” she says. “It’s too late.”
Then I look past her and see glowing amber eyes staring back at us. At first, I think they’re demons. Then they draw forward, their shadowy forms becoming more defined. Wolves. Only they’re massive, nearly the size of lions. Collectively, they growl, softly at first, but those growls keep growing louder.
This can’t be happening. This seriously can’t be happening.
I suddenly remember something that barely registered before. The full moon! Veil witches aren’t the primary predator of the vampires. Not by a long shot. There might be a truce going on, but apparently tonight that doesn’t matter. Because the true predator of vampires has always been werewolves, and these werewolves seem very much focused on Nora.
There’s four of them, fanned out in a semi-circle and drawing closer. I check behind us to make sure there aren’t more penning us in. I don’t see any, so that’s good. But that’s the only good news, and we’re still outnumbered two to one. The wolves keep drawing forward, their muzzles pulled back and their teeth dripping saliva.
I whisper to Nora. “What do we do?”
“How the hell would I know?”
Great, she’s lived for over a hundred years and she’s never faced off against a werewolf before? Oh, right. If she had, she probably wouldn’t be here. The problem being I’ve never faced off against one either. The only time I’ve even seen one was when Autumn’s pal, Dylan, showed up in wolf form to protect her. Desperate, I latch onto that angle.
I try my most soothing voice. “Hey, are any of you guys named D
ylan?”
My question is met with more growling, as the werewolves gain more ground and we keep stepping back. Fangs, already exposed, become even more so. I try not to imagine my flesh being ripped from my bones.
Just in case they didn’t hear me, I try again. “Seriously, guys. Dylan and I are buds. We had dinner together a few weeks ago. Well, technically, it was my sister’s boyfriend’s birthday, so there was a group of us, but—”
The growling grows in intensity, to the point where my primal fear is nearly paralyzing. Apparently, my rambling is getting on the werewolves’ nerves. Fair enough. I was kind of annoying myself.
I look at Nora side-eyed. “Show them your fangs.”
“Fuck off. Show them yours.”
Okay, not quite the response I expected, but it was a lame idea. We could turn and run, but then we’d expose our backs. Besides, I’m not sure even Nora can outrun a werewolf. Opening the veil won’t do the trick since, unlike vampires, werewolves are natural to our realm.
Come on, come on, come on! Think of something!
In a few seconds that feel like a lifetime, my brain keeps spinning and getting nowhere. Then I realize I’m thinking in the wrong direction. Don’t think supernatural, think earth. Think primal fear. Animals. Fire. Yes!
I summon magic once more, praying I’m not out of juice from the last battle. I thrust out both hands, the fear within me flaring into orbs of supernova intensity. In an instant, the sky above washes out and my own sight dims as Nora yelps in pain. Shit, that’s right. This much light must be excruciating to her, but I can’t worry about that now.
I shift my focus back to the wolves. They're hunkered down, digging their oversized paws into the earth. They keep their heads lowered and their ears flat against their skulls. Their teeth, however, remain very much bared. Damn. What does it take to make these guys back off? I mean, come on, I'm bringing a vampire to her knees.
As if in response, the alpha out front launches himself into the air. I have a split second to shift my focus away from the pack to its now airborne leader. I act instinctively, hurling one of the crackling energy spheres. It collapses in on itself, streaking through the air like a missile. The werewolf lets out a squeal of pain and flies backwards, where it plunges to the ground and slides through the grass. The rest of the pack halts, their eyes locked warily on me.
I screw up my courage and take an aggressive step toward them, my message being, You want to know who's the real alpha here, bitches? Just take a look at your fallen comrade.
Only, their fallen comrade doesn’t stay fallen. He climbs back to his feet and starts advancing again. How the hell is that even possible?
I can only guess that the kind of magic that would totally smoke a full-on supernatural being only serves to discourage a werewolf. Unlike vampires and demons, werewolves are supernatural hybrids. They’re magically enhanced combinations of natural elements. Man and wolf combined, a freakish fusion, but still one originating in this dimension.
How the hell are we supposed to fight them? More importantly, why didn't I look into it before now? Idiot. Those old movies come to mind, where they use silver bullets, but I don't have any of those. Or a gun to shoot them with. By the look of things, I have about two seconds before all four werewolves leap this time. Great, after everything, I’m going out as dog food.
But then the image of airborne werewolves connects me with another image—that of myself recently deflecting an incoming barrage of rocks. I wasn't wrong about the werewolves, who collectively leap into the air, their milky fangs rocketing toward my jugular from four directions. I thrust out the arms I'd pulled in to protect myself. This time the objective isn't to ignite flares of light, but rather to exert as much deflection force as magically possible. As a group, the wolves suddenly rocket backwards. And I must not have been messing around, because the four-legged dickheads keep toppling end over end until they're clean out of sight. In the dark, it's hard to be sure how far they travel, but by the time thuds reach my ears, accompanied by yelps of pain, I’m pretty sure I nearly hit them out of the park.
I turn to Nora and shout, “Run!”
Apparently, she's more than happy to oblige since, within moments, I can't see her anymore either.
CHAPTER 8
I'm still running full-bore when, half a mile past the park, something latches onto my arm and jerks me to a stop. Of course, only someone with supernatural strength could make that happen. I literally lurch from top speed to a complete standstill in an instant. Damn, my arm is going to be sore tomorrow.
Nora stares back at me, her pale blue eyes now the ones glowing in the darkness. “They're gone,” she says. “We're okay.”
I realize that she's right, of course. I've been tearing through the streets like a woman on fire for no reason. The werewolves never left the park. Maybe flying through the air mixed them up too much. Or, even better, scared the hell out of them. Maybe they lost our scent. Either way, we’re safe.
Now that I can finally think, I can't help but wonder what drew them to that park to begin with. The werewolves in this territory don't hunt humans, but they do hunt vampires. Well, they did before the truce, but they couldn’t have possibly known we were coming. I also got the feeling they were pretty damned tweaked out before we arrived. I kind of doubt that was just because of the full moon. More like they'd been compelled into hunting mode by something they'd found impossible to resist. Then we came along as a potential appetizer before the main course.
Nora seems otherwise preoccupied. Understandably, because while it’s still dark it won't be for long.
I bend over to suck in a few more deep breaths, and then straighten up again. “Time to get home, I guess.” Then something occurs to me. “Where are you staying?”
It hasn't come up, but I assume she can't return to where she’s been living. At least, not until it's safe.
Nora shakes her head. “Not sure. I meant to ask Steph and those guys but then that demon thing happened?”
Then we just went to a park and you forgot all about it? I don't say that, of course, and I suppose she might be in denial. After all, last night her vampire family was still alive. Come to think of it, I know nothing about them, but this definitely isn't the time. And clearly she didn't arrange for another night of Shadow Order protection. Why, I have no idea, but we can’t worry about that now either.
Nora keeps watching me, no doubt waiting for me to say something. Seriously? She can't be thinking that, can she? She must just be messing with me again. So I say, “How about my place?”
She smiles her little vampire smile and says. “Really? Are you sure you don't mind?”
~~~
Since the Cauldron isn’t too far off—and because Nora keeps me moving like a bat out of hell—we arrive with time to spare. Thankfully, for once there’s no party going on, so I don’t have to face the door troll, after facing off against werewolves, after facing off against a demon. Things appear to be looking up.
As we climb the stairs, Nora says, “What’s with the flying frog?”
“Don’t ask,” I say. Fucking snorflers. Apparently, once you have them, you’re stuck with them.
I unlock my door, step inside and turn back to Nora. I gesture in a sweeping motion. “Would you like to come in?”
Nora stares at me flatly. “Really?”
My face grows warm. “I heard it was a thing. That you had to be, you know, invited in.”
“I’m a vampire, not a leprechaun,” Nora says, as she enters the apartment. “Man, the stuff people come up with.” She looks around and adds, “Nice place. This is the witch hangout, right?”
She doesn’t seem nervous, but I guess there’s no reason she should be. While vampires and witches have a rocky history, I’m the only resident veil witch.
“We call it the Cauldron,” I say.
Nora flops down on the sofa. “A little on the nose, don’t you think? But, yeah, we all know about this place. It has a reputation for parties.�
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I’m not sure if our blocking charms work on vampires, or if those are just magically calibrated for humans. My guess is humans, since presumably most of our neighbors fall into that category. And it’s not like we’d be keeping any nearby vampires awake.
“There’s definitely a social aspect,” I admit. “By the way, please promise you won’t consume anyone living in the building.”
Nora raises an eyebrow. “Consume?”
“I don’t know,” I say, as I walk toward the kitchen. “What do you call it?”
“We just call it feeding. It’s not like we swallow them.”
I shrug and open the fridge. “Want a—? Never mind.” I get myself a beer, pop it open and go back into the living room. “You wouldn’t, right?”
Nora holds up three fingers. “Scout’s honor. Besides, witch blood tastes weird.”
I have no idea how to react. Strangely, I’m mildly insulted. “Weird how?”
Nora shrugs. “Just sort of, you know, too strong.”
No, I don’t know, and I’m hesitant to ask how she does. I’ve always heard the phrase “witch blood” and now it seems like there really is a difference. I take the loveseat. “So, is it the magic?”
Nora nods. “Definitely. It tastes like cayenne.”
She shudders at the thought, so I guess that’s comforting. Especially since she’ll be staying the night. I mean day. This is going to be weird.
Nora’s attention is suddenly caught by something across the room. She gestures with her head. “Wait, did you—?”
I follow her gaze to the mirror I hung by the front door. A little reminder, for all those times I forget to brush my hair. Presently, it has a towel draped over it. It takes me a moment, but I have to laugh.
“Nothing to do with you,” I say. “But let me guess, that one isn’t true either.”
Nora shakes her head. “We can see ourselves in mirrors. Not that I’m worried about it. I’ve looked the same for over a century. By the way, the garlic thing is BS too. I’ve never been sure what that’s about. Like we’re afraid of getting heartburn or something. Then there’s my all-time favorite, the seed legend. ”