by Jackie Ivie
“Your honey did a bit of research today online. She’s got a bit more beneath the surface than I suspected.”
“So?”
“She did vampire research!”
“Everything’s fine, Nigel.”
“No! It’s not! She’s armed.”
“No. She’s under my power.”
“It’s an act! I’m telling you, I’ve read her queries. If she’s under your spell, it’s faked!”
“No,” KayNan replied.
Nigel made some reply that sounded like it came through clenched teeth.
“I’m signing off now, Nigel. Good bye.”
“Just watch your back! You hear me, KayNan?”
He felt her behind him. KayNan pulled the phone away and swiveled, and just managed to get his hands up as pure acid got tossed at him. The Holy Water hit, eating holes into skin he hadn’t protected. Burning. Paining. And then pure agony lanced through him as she slammed a huge ornate crucifix against his abdomen.
He dropped, curling into his long-unused fetal position to absorb the pain. Nigel was still announcing his name from wherever the phone had fallen. On the fourth one the connection went dead with an audible click. KayNan knew why. The cell phone might not be in KayNan’s control, and nobody allowed a trace. V.A.L. would probably order a 4D Team. He just had to figure out how to survive until they arrived. The only thing saving him right now was the layers of material in this dress suit and the fact that she’d pulled the cross back when he’d fallen.
He turned his head and found her, although he had to squint to absorb the ache. She was crouched just out of arm’s reach, the crucifix propped upright on the floor in front of her. He had to look away. The cross burned his eyes. And just why did her eyes still have to look just as deep and mysterious as before, anyway?
KayNan had never cried. Ever. Not when the Rus raiding party had destroyed his entire village, killing almost everyone. Not when he’d been taken captive. Not even when they’d paraded him covered in nothing but a ragged loincloth at the slave market in Kiev. Not once had he teared up. Not even when his owners had him beaten. Consistently and with great amusement. They’d never broken him. No one ever saw him cry. He didn’t think he had the capacity for it.
And yet now he actually had to blink moisture away.
CHAPTER FIVE
“It works! Holy—! It works. I don’t believe it. It works.”
KayNan blinked, continued locking his entire frame into a ball and somehow sucked the moisture back – along with any desire for tears. His heart was beating so heavily it hurt. He wondered if it matched hers. And if she’d felt any portion of his pain. And then he wondered why he thought such stupid things. And then he listened.
“Oh wow, Jeannette. This is insane. No, no, no. This is worse than insane. It’s scary. No. This is beyond scary. Way beyond.”
A thud sound came. And then a sigh.
“I mean…I’m looking and I still don’t believe it. A vampire?”
“Are you speaking to me?”
KayNan spoke to the carpet in front of his nose and blinked again as he waited for her to answer. The individual fibers were coming into focus. That meant he’d conquered the urge to cry. One point in his favor. Another had to be how the section of his lower abdomen altered to a throbbing ache. Good. His injuries were healing. He was grateful to these layers of clothing. She hadn’t ruptured flesh. Another point in his favor. She must not know that part. If she wanted a crucifix to work, she needed to keep it connected to him. The Holy Water droplets were evaporating too. Those wounds would go from grotesque third-degree burns to large blisters, and then return to skin. Unscarred, perfect skin. She must not know that she needed to keep tossing it at him. Yet another point in his favor. A squirt gun could even control a vampire – for as long as the Holy Water lasted anyway. It was contact with the liquid that mattered. That’s why vampire hunters used stun guns with connected wires that sent a continual drip of the stuff from tanks on their backs. Very effective weapon. Akin to a flamethrower.
All of this was extremely odd. If Hunters were helping her, they’d done a poor job. Or she hadn’t paid attention to their instructions. Maybe she didn’t like watching video feeds either.
“I’m not sure I should talk to you,” she finally replied.
He snorted with amusement. She didn’t like it, if her intake of air was an indicator. KayNan tensed for another dose of Holy Water or something worse. Long moments passed. Nothing happened. He turned his head in her direction again, squinting against any burn, and got nothing. More oddity. His mate was woefully unskilled and inept at killing a vampire. She’d even dropped the cross onto the floor between them so it no longer pained unless he looked down.
Her eyes looked enormous. Dew-filled, almost like they glittered with tears. She looked troubled. Unsure. Concerned. And the moment their eyes met, his heart did a little uptick motion. And that meant hers did, too. KayNan left off his squint to look fully into her eyes. Licked his lips. They felt chapped. Dry. Salty.
“Why not?”
“You’re a vampire. I mean…uh. You’re a real, live, honest-to-goodness vampire. Oh, snap. Listen to me. I still don’t believe it.”
Her voice held a touch of awe mixed in with the disbelief and disgust. He wondered what that meant.
“That looked like it hurt. Bad?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Her voice trembled. He watched as it transferred to her frame. His mate was bothered by what she’d done? That was endearing. She might even be the type that had trouble killing insects.
“May I sit?” he asked.
She didn’t answer. She just watched him with wariness now claiming most of the dark brown of her eyes. KayNan flexed every muscle first, and when he did move, it was slowly and carefully, keeping his eyes locked to hers. It wasn’t because he worried over a renewed assault. Not only was he prepared now - his escape route was right behind him. He’d slam through the glass of her window before getting hit with another projectile. He kept his eyes locked to hers because that’s how you showed trust to a skittish innocent. And he moved carefully so as not to alarm or scare her. So every motion – first to his knees and then cross-legged onto his ass – was done gradually and methodically. And then he just sat there. Waiting. Watching.
She spoke first.
“I didn’t know it would really hurt you. And…I didn’t know it caused actual wounds.”
“No?”
“Of course not. You’re a vampire. That means you’re dead. Otherwise you’d be a-a-a – oh, I don’t know – maybe a zombie. Listen to me. Zombies? As if they actually exist. This is getting complicated. They’re going to put me away for real this time. And throw away the key.”
This time?
Anger at anyone even touching his mate arced through him, fanning long-dormant rage and hatred. KayNan watched a reddish colored haze overtake his vision. And she just continued talking, as if completely unaware of his reaction. Or oblivious.
“What am I saying? Vampires exist. You’re living – I mean, dead – proof. Right? I mean, you’re a vampire. And you’re right there. And that means zombies might be right around the corner, too. Right?” she asked again.
KayNan shook his head. Making a sound at the moment was beyond his capability. It would probably be a snarl.
“Zombies don’t exist?”
He shook his head again.
“Would you tell me if they did?”
He lifted his brows.
“Okay. This is going over the top. I’m having a witless conversation with a creature that didn’t exist a day ago…over the existence of other fictional beings. As if you’d know. This is beyond ridiculous. And I’ve changed my mind. I’m not sorry. How can I be? If you’re a vampire, you’re dead. You can’t feel pain. And that means you can’t suffer.”
He swallowed, using the gesture to send the red-colored emotion to his belly to fester. Much like he had centuries
ago, in another lifetime. With his Arabic masters.
“That’s right, isn’t it?”
“What?” He’d been right to wait. His voice was a croak of sound.
“You can’t suffer…can you?”
“They tell you that?”
“Nobody told me anything.”
“You didn’t contact the Hunters?”
“Hunters? Oh, come on…Hunters? I suppose you’re going to tell me there really is such a thing as a vampire hunter now?”
He nodded.
“Figures. Well, even if they’re real and could’ve helped me, I didn’t contact them. I didn’t contact anyone. How could I? Eccentricity is one thing, insanity another. I don’t need visits with state and local officials in my life ever again. They already shut my shop down for over a week just because someone decided to complain that I sold and stocked illegal substances. Self-righteous jerks.”
“So…who did you contact?”
“Nobody. Aren’t you listening? If you live just this side of social norms like I do, you don’t go around drawing attention to yourself by sending emails about vampires. It adds unnecessary kindling to the fire, so-to-speak.”
Funny she should mention speaking. He was dealing with a lot of speech and a lot of verbiage, and getting a whole lot of nowhere when the immediate future probably included a 4D Team. For all he knew, they might be just around the corner.
“You knew about the water. And the…crucifix.” His voice lowered to a throb of sound on the last word. He sensed how near her fingers were to it without looking.
“That’s not a hard leap. Everyone knows about those. But I should also be wearing a necklace made of garlic buds.”
A hard leap? What did that mean? KayNan pondered how to answer. And why hadn’t Nigel included at least one video on the latest popular vernacular?
“There’s tons of hoopla on the internet about vampires, if you choose to believe it. I didn’t. But I had to prepare somehow. And there you are. Holy Water. And a cross.”
“Hoopla?” That was another new word. He’d have to check with Nigel on the meaning of that one later, too.
“Yeah. You know. Vampire lore. And there’s a lot of it.”
“There is?” Lore? Sounded like another word for myth or legend.
“I researched online today after…well, after. Like I said, there’s a lot of stuff. I took most of it to be archaic religious brouhaha from the Middle Ages, while the rest is little more than nonsense dreamed up by new-age vampire wannabes.”
Brouhaha? Wannabes?
KayNan didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to say. He was conversant in several different languages, and innumerable dialects, and yet he felt like when he’d first been taken by the Swedish raiding party called the Rus. Some words were familiar and some made sense. The rest he’d had to learn with trial by error. And quickly.
“But I had to do something. I knew you were coming for me.”
“You knew I was coming?” he repeated.
She nodded.
“And yet still, you armed yourself?”
She nodded again.
“You’re not making sense.” Or maybe he was denser than Nigel intimated.
“You’re a murderer. A killer.”
He considered her for a long moment, his heart rate matching the elevated pitch of hers. Then he answered. “I’ve been a vampire for a long time. I only kill in self-defense. Or if there’s a contract for it. Uh…usually.”
“You killed…Carlos Carlotti. I saw you.”
“I know. I saw you, too.”
“And that’s why you’re here now.”
“Yes.”
“You see? I was right.”
“My name is KayNan,” he finally offered when all she did was look across and up at him as if he knew what to answer.
“Are you here to kill me? Because if you are—”
She had her fingers around her crucifix. KayNan called on every reserve not to even flinch. It only worked because he was entirely focused on keeping his eyes connected with hers, ignoring any glance downward. The religious symbol would only work if he looked at it. Or touched it. Or had it held against him. She may not know that yet, but it would be an easy lesson if she picked that cross back up.
He was rewarded finally by the slightest frown between her eyes. He heard the same slight thud sound as the crucifix dropped onto the carpet between them again. He smiled. It held relief.
“I’m not here to kill you, Jeannette.”
“How…do you know my name?”
“You talk to yourself. You named it for me.”
“When?”
“Just before the sorry part. Can we move to something else now? I’m not here to harm you. You’ve my word on it.”
Her features dropped into a deadpan look. Her head tipped the slightest bit. He was absolutely certain her expression looked as disbelieving as she meant it to.
“And just what is a vampire’s word worth?”
“Depends on the vampire,” he answered.
She actually looked even more skeptical.
“Listen, Jeannette. I already told you. I’m old. Old enough to know the value of a man’s word, once given.”
“Twenty-six is old?”
KayNan smirked. “Twenty six at death. Maybe. I died in the year eight hundred and eighty-five. Of the Common Era.”
“Impossible. I told you. I researched it, and vampires aren’t that old. That Dracula character came from some real historical person named Vlad in…I can’t recollect exactly, but it wasn’t much past the fifteenth century. Just before science debunked the vampire myth and made you completely fictional. Or…whatever you are. Geez. I suppose somebody should tell the scientists they’re wrong.”
“We need to do this later. We don’t have time for this.”
“You’ve lived over a thousand years and now don’t have time to explain?”
KayNan caught the sound before it got too loud.
“I suggest you make time, Kay-Nan. Right now.”
She split his name into two distinct syllables. That was sweet. Like his mother once had. He had to glance away for the slightest moment before returning to her gaze. He cleared his throat. And then he started explaining.
“Vampires have walked the earth for eons, Jeannette. Every culture has a vampiric legend or two. Do your research again. You’ll see. We go back to the earliest of humanity. As for me, I’m from the forest area of what is part of the Soviet Union. No. Wait. It’s one of the Baltic countries now. I’m Slavic by birth. Taken in a Viking raid. Sold into slavery. I won’t describe that time. It would be too close to reliving it. Nobody needs to hear. And a decade later I tried to escape. I failed. I was killed – well…almost killed. That’s when I was turned. And in all that time, both living and undead, I’ve never broken my word. It’s my bond.”
“You know…you’re almost believable,” she replied.
“We’re about out of time. A 4D Team is due any moment. We need to disappear before then.”
“We?”
“I came here to find you. I don’t intend to lose you.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” She reached for the cross again.
“A 4D Team is about to obliterate your hotel room, Jeannette. You can’t stay here.”
“Four D?” she queried.
“It stands for deploy. Destroy. Disinfect. Disappear.”
“Oh. I get it. Rather like the Men in Black. I suppose now is when you tell me they’re real, too. Why not, Jeannette? You might as well get labeled a crackpot conspirator theorist, too.”
KayNan forced the frustrated sound back. “4D Teams handle clean-up for the Vampire Assassin League. They’re very reliable. Concise. Quick responders. We have to go. Now.”
“The Vampire what?”
“Assassin League. Please don’t make me force anything, Jeannette. Please?”
“It’s going to take a lot more than half-assed explanations and male muscle, KayNan. I know your
weakness. Remember?”
She lifted the cross. KayNan kicked it out of her hand, ignoring the instant flash of agony. And the burn. And then the hall door ruptured inward.
He’d been wrong. It wasn’t a 4D Team.
A boot finished slamming the entry door against the bathroom portal. Several teargas canisters rolled into the room – only these wouldn’t contain teargas. They’d contain Holy Water under pressure. It immediately began misting the area. Camouflaged men stormed through the fog, one after the other, sending arrows out in an arcing pattern, covering 180 degrees, both low and high. They hit the television, the lamps, the walls, furnishings, everything in sight. Except him. KayNan had reacted the moment the door was breached, slamming his way through the window, using his back for the hit. A moment later he was in full flight, swooping around skyscrapers toward the hangar. He took Jeannette with him. Holding tightly to him with her eyes scrunched the entire way.
CHAPTER SIX
Oh dear. I’m about to violate the rule!
Jeannette stopped the thought. Stopped everything. The impulse to scream. The need to fight. Everything. She had to. No emotions. Ever. That was a major rule. Emotions clouded issues, warped reality, altered judgments. She had to staunch them so she could think. That was her preferred methodology. Gather facts. Ponder. Do it rationally. Calmly. With detachment. Logically. She knew from experience that if she incorporated emotionless reasoning with the list of rules she’d created a decade or so earlier, everything would pass. Her sanity would return. Her world would right. And if she was lucky and blinked just so, this would turn into an aberration in the fabric of time, and she’d be back in that dining room having white tea infused with strawberry, peach, and vanilla, while carrying just a hint of rose petal undertone.
And then she wouldn’t need to fret over where her overnight bag with all her identification might have just gone. Ah!
Remember the rules, Jeannette. Stick to the list.
Making that list had given her something constructive to do while incarcerated in a little padded room; one with no door handle even if she could have unfastened the strait-jacket. That’s where she received an education in modern witch hunting techniques, and how to survive them. Through all the badgering. The medicating. The questioning. The doubting. The treatments. The counseling. That’s when she learned the truth. Nobody listened. Nobody believed. Because nobody else saw things like she did.