by D. J. Bodden
“Well, to tell the truth, I’m not sure. A specter called Madoc has been sending me dreams, or visions. I attacked him the last time, and he hasn’t come back since…” He went on to tell her everything that had happened: the break-in, Fangston’s rampage through his mind, his conversations with Phillip, and the box his father had left behind. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m just trying to imagine what it’s like to live in your world,” Eve said. “A specter? Really? Like, Agency special ops, omens of doom, going out of his way to talk to you not once, but twice?”
“Yes.”
“And then being attacked in your home… no wonder I don’t go out anymore. It’s not safe anywhere.”
Jonas frowned. “You don’t go out? Ever? Not even with Viviane?”
Eve sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Viviane doesn’t go out because she’s Viviane. She thinks that if she limits the number of people she comes in contact with, it’ll take longer for her to go crazy.”
“So, I should stay indoors, too?”
Eve shook her head. “No, she’s a special kind of vampire. Not everyone gets to train with her, you know. You do because you’re a bit of a freak—”
“Thanks a lot,” Jonas said, sarcastically.
“—and I do because I’m like her, though I don’t know if I agree with all of her theories. Not that it matters. There’s nothing out there for me anyway.” She glanced at the clock. ”You need to go so I can change, or else I’ll have to fight you in my PJs, and that’ll be embarrassing for both of us.”
Jonas looked at the time and realized they’d been talking for almost an hour. “Yeah, you’re right. Well, thanks for listening. It means a lot.”
She gave him one of her appraising looks, then said, “Thanks for trusting me.”
I guess I did, Jonas thought. He’d told her everything… almost. Sam wouldn’t let him divulge the details of his barrier, and he hadn’t told her about his dad’s coin. Still, all she had to do to make his life more difficult was walk into Fangston’s office and spill the beans. But somehow, Jonas knew she would never do that. How do I repay her?
“Uh, you can go now, Jonas,” Eve said.
Feeling his face flush, Jonas said, “Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking… you wanna go out for coffee after training’s over? I mean, I know you don’t drink coffee — at least I don’t think you do. Do you? Anyway, it doesn’t matter. We could just sit at a table, pretend to drink coffee, and watch the human cattle bustling about?”
It was a bad joke, but she laughed anyway, immediately covering her mouth. “Let’s see how training goes, but yeah, that sounds like fun.”
♚
The training session was rough, mostly on Jonas. Viviane liked to finish the weekend with a bang, since she knew he’d be focusing on schoolwork and practicing the vampire stuff on his own during the week. His jaw was swollen and his leg throbbed from a nasty kick Eve had landed after distracting him with a mental-thrust at his barrier. Then, Viviane had them sit with their backs against the wall and relax before pulling them into her mind.
They were in an arena, surrounded by armored men with long, silver daggers.
Viviane’s voice came from everywhere at once. “I don’t expect you to win, just survive as long as you can.”
Without further delay or ceremony, the men charged. Eve and Jonas did the best they could, fighting separately at first, but were eventually forced back to back. The men hit, cut, stabbed, and slashed. Every wound hurt like the real thing. When one of the men landed a killing blow, the arena would reset. Then Jonas and Eve would be surrounded by a fresh wave of assailants.
After the fourth wave, with two of their assailants disabled, Jonas and Eve were still holding their weapons. Without warning, Viviane pushed them out and they were back in the training room, breathing hard. Jonas patted himself down, but didn’t find any injuries other than those Eve had inflicted earlier. His head, however, felt like it was about to explode.
“That wasn’t bad for your first time,” Viviane said, “But we’ll need to work on it more next week.” Then she walked out.
Jonas glanced at Eve. “What was that? It was like fighting Francois, only ten times worse.”
Eve nodded. “I didn’t know Viviane could do that.” She rubbed her temples and winced, obviously nursing her own headache. “Listen, we don’t have to go out tonight. I nailed you with a few good ones, and I wasn’t expecting—”
“No, I offered, and I’d still like to go,” he said, with a forced smile. “Just need a few minutes to piece my head back together.”
Eve went back to her room for a half-hour while Jonas stopped by the cafeteria. When she came back, they were both feeling much better, and headed toward a small coffee shop a few blocks from the Agency. Jonas was limping a little, so Eve slipped her arm in his. That’s what it looked like, anyway. She was actually taking some of the weight off his bad leg.
“Thanks,” he said.
Eve didn’t answer, she just gave his arm a squeeze.
“Bye, Jared!” she said, as they crossed the lobby.
“See you later, Eve. Have a good week, Jonas,” the security chief said.
Once they were outside, a cold breeze tousled her hair. “You’re right, it is getting colder,” she said, tucking a loose strand behind her ear.
Jonas was struck by the grace of the small gesture, until he remembered she had a glamour on her, just like Viviane and his mother. She wore a black pea coat with a red scarf, and Jonas thought her skin tone was a little more… lifelike. Did she put makeup on? he thought, but immediately dismissed the question. Of course she put makeup on. My mother doesn’t come out of her room without makeup on.
“Hi Phillip,” Jonas said, as the bodyguards approached. “Didn’t see Kieran today, is everything alright?” He’d looked for the young werewolf to apologize for his reaction in the cafeteria, but hadn’t been able to find him.
“Full moon this Sunday. Lettie keeps the young ones indoors, and Kieran is supposed to stay in his room here at the Agency. Stops them from having accidents,” Phillip said.
Jonas flashed back to the funeral, remembering a woman who’d come up and apologized as her son was being escorted out of the church. Her name had been Leticia.
“He’s not house trained, yet,” Bert added, sniggering.
Phillip frowned, “Be careful how you talk about family, Bert. You were twenty before I let you out of the house, and sometimes I still regret it.” His tone was playful, but there was an edge to it.
Phillip and Bert trailed behind, occasionally muttering comments to each other and laughing. After about half a block, Jonas felt a small, polite tendril of thought nudge his barrier. It was Eve, and he opened one of the gates for her.
Thanks. I didn’t particularly want them overhearing everything we were saying.
Yeah, this is probably better.
Bert muttered something, and Phillip growled at him.
Jonas paused, and said, “You can tell we’re talking, can’t you?”
Bert started to answer, but Phillip gripped him by the shoulder and said, “That’s enough out of you, tonight.” He turned back to Jonas. “Most young vampires subvocalize when they do the psychic bit with one another. It’s not like we can see the thoughts, but we can hear your vocal chords shifting around.”
Jonas’ left hand went to his throat. He hadn’t thought of it, but he knew one of the tricks to speed-reading was not mouthing the words while reading them.
“How would an older vampire do it?”
Phillip’s eyes flicked to Eve, and he pressed his lips together. He seemed to come to a decision, and said, “None of my business, but I suppose it would be possible to send images instead. Maybe entire memories, if one had the skill and trusted the other… person.”
Jonas felt they’d strayed into dangerous territory, though he didn’t know how or why. “Thank you.”
Phillip nodded, and they all started walking again.
Jonas looked at Eve. Know what that was about?
Well, for one, you just got Phillip Macready, head of the biggest Agency pack in New York, to put his neck on the chopping block for you. I’m kind of flattered he let me see it.
Chopping block? Why? Jonas asked.
Werewolves are supposed to be strong, vampires are supposed to be smart. A smart werewolf makes people nervous, especially when they’re as careful and well connected as Phillip. I can’t believe he’s your bodyguard.
What do you mean by well connected?
His wife, Leticia, is supposedly related to a Winter Wolf. That’s what I heard, anyway. Of course, no one I know has ever actually seen one. They’re like the boogeyman or Krampus, punishing werewolves who break the old laws.
Jonas glanced back at the two werewolves. Phillip smiled, and Bert followed sullenly a few steps behind. When his mother had demanded Phillip be assigned to her after the break-in, Jonas hadn’t realized how big the request had been, not until now.
Those two have been arguing a lot more lately, he told Eve.
It’s probably the full moon. Even trained adults get a little cranky during this time.
Bert looked up and glared at Jonas, who quickly turned back to watch where he was going. The look of undisguised hatred in Bert’s yellow eyes was beyond “cranky.”
No, I don’t think that’s it, Jonas said, and wondered why everything had to be so complicated.
They continued their conversation from where they’d left off in Eve’s room. Jonas thought his best move was to wait until Madoc made contact again, and then try talking to him.
I don’t know if you have that much time, said Eve. Once someone crosses the threshold into full solipsism, they go from “existential crisis” to “bathing in the blood of virgins” pretty quickly. Or, if they’re paranoid, they lock themselves in their minds, which would be a problem with your mom because I don’t think anyone could dig her out.
Bathing in the blood of virgins? Is that really a thing? Jonas asked.
Countess Elisabeth Bathory — she was like, the female version of Dracula. It’s kind of an inside joke among female vampires. She never bathed in the blood of virgins like they said, but she did go nuts and kill a few hundred people. Most of them were young girls. It never went to trial — would have been awkward for everyone involved if people saw a sixty-year-old who looked twenty, or if she’d turned to ash in public. They walled her in her rooms and she killed herself four years later.
Jonas looked at her. Inside joke, huh? Yeah, I can see how that would be hilarious. He tried to project the feeling of sarcasm. Eve smiled and squeezed his arm.
Anyway, she said, you probably need to find a way to anchor her sooner rather than later. I mean, it’s mostly a joke, but your mom had been turned and was already over a century old by the time the Countess was born. They may have even known each other. She paused, then sent… Do you think you can get whatever’s in the box your dad left?
I don’t know for sure, Jonas answered. But there’s something I want to try. One thing was certain, he needed to uncover whatever it was without Fangston finding out and taking it from him, which he was sure to do, unless Jonas explained his mother’s condition. Even then, Fangston might put his mom in the vampire equivalent of an insane asylum. Apparently, bricking someone up in their rooms was a popular thing to do.
Jonas opened the door to the coffee shop and let Eve walk in ahead of him. Phillip and Bert had made themselves scarce, so Jonas walked in behind her. As they approached the counter, he almost ran into Amelia, who was carrying a cardboard tray that held four steaming beverages.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see… Jonas?” She looked from him to Eve, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Who’s your friend?”
Who’s this, Jonas?
“Amelia, this is Eve. Eve, this is Amelia.” Jonas said, and then privately to Eve, She’s my girlfriend.
Amelia shifted the tray and extended her hand to Eve. “Hi, Eve. Jonas has told me absolutely nothing about you. How long have you two known each other?”
How long have you been dating? Eve pushed at Jonas, as she shook Amelia’s hand, and said, “Ten days,” without missing a beat.
We’ve been dating for two years, Jonas answered, struggling to keep up with both conversations at once. Have you been counting the days, or is that just a vampire thing?
We all trend toward obsession, Eve answered, and Jonas immediately thought of Sam’s “appearance” as soon as he’d started training.
“That’s odd. Jonas, didn’t your apartment get broken into about ten days ago?” Amelia asked.
“Eleven days,” Eve said.
Not helping! Jonas pushed, a little more forcefully than he’d intended.
I’m not the one who doesn’t trust you, Eve fired back.
He reached out toward Amelia’s mind, probing gently.
—leaving me for this floozy. My friends were right, and she’s prettier than me, and—
Amelia’s interior monologue was rapidly rising to a screech. Eve smirked. Amelia noticed, blanched, and walked past Jonas, as if he wasn’t there, eyes fixed on the tray of drinks.
“Amelia, I’ll—”
“Don’t bother,” she said without turning.
Jonas looked at Eve, wide-eyed. What just happened? He thought, but didn’t broadcast it.
Eve read his facial expression well enough and bit her lip. Jonas picked up amusement and a hint of shame leaking from her barrier. She touched him on the arm and said, “I think I should probably go. You have fun with that.” And let me know how the thing with the box goes, she sent as she walked out.
How does this happen to me? Jonas thought. Two weeks ago, all he’d been worried about were his grades and how much time he got to spend with Amelia. I shouldn’t have to deal with this, he thought. It wasn’t whining. He didn’t feel sorry for himself. He was angry. He hadn’t done anything wrong and was being saddled with problems that had nothing to do with him.
“Excuse me, are you in line?” someone said.
“No, I… I guess not.”
He walked out and headed for home. After about a half-block, Phillip fell in beside him. “You alright, lad? Saw your girlfriend leave, and your other girlfriend soon after,” he said, wagging his eyebrows.
Jonas was about to protest, but realized Phillip was just pulling his chain. “Where’s Bert?”
Phillip frowned. “Sent him home. Needs to think some things over, won’t do anybody any good until he does.”
“Is he—?”
“Family business, Jonas. I didn’t stick my nose in the blood on your door, so do me the same courtesy. Let me handle my son.” Phillip’s tone was calm, but unyielding. Not for the first time, he got the impression that Phillip — or maybe werewolves in general — would do anything for their pack, or family. Whatever they call it, he thought.
They walked the rest of the way to the apartment without speaking another word.
♚
Jonas saw Amelia at school on Monday, but the buzz of thoughts he picked up from her told him it was not the right time to approach her. He went to see Mr. Edwards after fourth period instead of going to lunch. He wasn’t eating much anymore, anyway, and he didn’t want to run the gauntlet of Amelia’s friends.
“Jonas! How unexpected. I assumed when I didn’t hear any more from you last week that your interest had waned. How goes the castle building?”
They talked for a half-hour; Mr. Edwards spent most of that time discussing changes in fortifications as a result of the increased use of gunpowder, both in terms of canons and explosives. Jonas wasn’t sure he wanted to introduce gunpowder to his “world.” In fact, he made a mental note for Sam to strictly prohibit it. Even basic artillery would make the walls in his barrier obsolete. Better to keep things old fashioned and to the defender’s advantage, he thought. The only thing he needed less than mental cannons were tanks and smart bombs.
“I think the world might have been
a better place if we hadn’t rushed to gunpowder warfare,” Jonas said, when Mr. Edwards looked like he would try to persuade him again.
“Well, that’s a good theory, Jonas. But, as a ruler during that time, you’d have to put a lot of faith in the benevolence of neighboring countries to make that choice.”
Putting faith in others reminded Jonas of something Viviane had suggested. He needed to scan Mr. Edwards. Reaching out with his mind, he felt something like a very thin barrier, almost like a soap bubble. It was unlike anything he’d felt in a human before. It popped when he touched it.
The next thing Jonas knew, Mr. Edwards was stabbing at his chest with a half-foot-long silver dagger. Acting on instinct, he deflected the history teacher’s wrist a split second before the dagger would have slipped between his ribs and into his heart. He ripped the knife from the older man’s hand, flipped it over, and held it between them. He could hear the other man’s heart pounding and resisted the urge to lunge forward. Edwards jumped back and flipped one of the light switches on the wall. A tube light, that Jonas had thought was broken, flickered on with an angry hum. His skin tingled.
“Damn,” Edwards said.
Jonas’ eyes widened. “That’s a UV light, isn’t it?”
Edwards’ eyes were fixed on the tip of the dagger. Jonas could tell he was shifting his balance to make a grab for it. “Don’t,” Jonas said. “I’m faster than you could ever be.” He wasn’t sure of that, but it sounded good, like something out of a movie.
Edwards licked his lips, as if weighing his odds, then slowly raised his hands. “Can’t blame me for trying, can you?”
“You’re the second person to say that within the last twenty-four hours,” Jonas said. “I can’t say that I care for it much.” He glanced down at the dagger. It was made entirely of silver with a wolf’s head pommel, just like the one in Kieran’s nightmare. “You’re a hunter?”
Edwards nodded. “You tried one of your mind tricks on me. I was within my rights to attack.”
Jonas was surprised at his tone. He sounded like a guy arguing over the fault of a fender-bender, instead of someone who’d just tried to kill him.