Two felt herself being drained, felt her life being stolen away from her, felt blackness overtaking her. It didn’t seem to matter, anymore, caught in this comfortable embrace. She thought to herself, At least it’s over. At least it’s finally done.
She did not expect the abrupt end to the sensation, nor the sudden plummet to the unforgiving stones below. She was dimly aware that she must still be alive, because hitting the cobblestones hurt. Two looked up, groggy, and tried to clear her vision. The vampire was backing away from her, eyes wide with confusion and surprise.
“Tah ama vamper. Sa pare tah ama vamper. Ashi?”
The words meant nothing to Two, but she forced herself to respond anyway. Her mouth grudgingly formed the words.
“Told … toldjoo to … wait.”
“Ashika moritas?!” the vampire cried.
Two was fading rapidly, but she forced herself to a sitting position. Her head spun, and she leaned against the side of the building for support. The walls of L'Obscurité throbbed and hummed against her back.
“I don’t speak … whatever language that is, sorry,” Two said.
The woman seemed to have regained some of her composure. She was regarding Two with curiosity.
“You have vampire blood,” she said.
Two’s vision was fading now, the world going first grey and then dark. She laughed. The sound was more like a sob, and with it went the last of her strength. Two slumped to the ground, and her last words were a whisper.
“Not anymore.”
* * *
Her body twitched, twisted, shifted to a different part of the bed. The sudden cool of the sheets brought Two up from the depths of sleep, and her first thought was: I don’t remember buying silk …
This wasn’t her apartment. The events of the previous evening began to play like a film against her eyelids, flickering at first, growing stronger as she left sleep behind. Memory drove Two’s eyes open and she sat bolt upright in bed, eyes wide and panicked. The vampire had attacked her, but must have stopped in the nick of time. Two knew she had been on the edge of death the previous night, but now she was alive and resting in a bed.
Was this, then, the vampire’s home?
Two swung her legs over the side of the bed, surveying her surroundings. She was in what looked like a modest spare bedroom in a high-rise condominium, well-furnished but not lavish. The dresser on which her clothes were piled was oak, and there was a pretty standing mirror in one corner. She recognized a painting on the wall as a Monet print, but a very good one, chosen to match the rest of the room’s decor. The clock on the nightstand stood at eighteen past ten, the darkness of the room confirming that it was night.
Two was wearing a sea-foam green nightgown that had bunched itself up around her hips while she slept. She stood, smoothing the gown out, and rolled her eyes as folds of extra fabric pooled at her feet. Whoever the gown belonged to, she was significantly taller. Two took a step and nearly fell to the floor. Her legs were shaky, weak, not willing to hold her. She steadied herself with a hand on the foot of the bed and took another step toward her clothes.
“Lost a lot of blood, I guess,” she muttered, taking small, slow steps across the room.
Standing by the chair, Two pulled the nightgown off and replaced it with her blouse and slacks. Everything was still in its place: wallet, keys, cigarettes. Two wanted one of the latter but decided against it. Her life had been spared; she could at least do her host the courtesy of not lighting up in the house.
There was noise coming from out beyond the door, and Two stood in front of it for a moment, listening. Her legs were feeling better, and Two thought that getting some food into her system might help even more. She wondered if vampires kept anything edible in their kitchens. The noise from behind the door sounded like a televised sporting event, nothing that should have given her pause. Two turned the knob and opened the door.
The apartment was larger than she had expected based on the size of the bedroom in which she’d awoken. The hall contained entries to two more bedrooms and a bathroom. At its end, Two could see what looked like a substantial kitchen and dining area. The living area was adjacent to this, out of view, but light from the television flickered, reflecting on the stainless steel appliances.
“Come on, come on,” a man’s voice said, and then, “yes!”
Two walked down the hall and turned the corner. The living area of the apartment was better furnished than the guest bedroom. Before her were two overstuffed couches and a recliner set in front of a gigantic flat-screen television with a complete surround-sound stereo system. One wall was dominated by a massive aquarium filled with corals and tropical fish. Against the other wall were three large, oak bookcases, filled almost to bursting with hard-bound books. Some of them looked ancient.
On the couch, watching the television with his back to her, was a young man of perhaps twenty-five. He had long hair, somewhere between brown and red, that was pulled back into a ponytail. Two could not see his face. On the television, a team in black uniforms was moving around on a basketball court.
“Quit wasting time,” the man said to the television, his accent Irish. “Sure, it’s the pre-season, but a game’s a game. Stop pussying around.”
“Excuse me—” Two began, her voice tentative, and the man interrupted her without looking.
“I’m trying to watch the fucking game, Na—”
He paused in mid-sentence and looked suddenly over his shoulder at her. This man was another vampire, there could be no doubt. If the speed of his movement hadn’t told her, his eyes would have. They were bright green like Two’s, but ageless, reflective. Vampire eyes.
“You’re not Naomi,” the man told her. “She isn’t home.”
“No, I’m not Naomi,” Two replied.
“What the fuck is this? You’re not even a vampire!”
“No, sorry.”
The man stood up, frowning. Two took a step backward, not enthusiastic about the look she saw on his face.
“What are you doing here?”
“I don’t know. I mean … I just woke up. In the guest room.”
“Well isn’t that fucking brilliant. She goes out an’ doesn’t even bother to tell me that she’s left dinner in the other room.”
Two shook her head. “I’m not dinner. That’s … not why I’m here.”
The vampire smiled at her and actually licked his lips.
“You’re human, and you’re here with me alone. If you weren’t dinner before, girl, you are now.”
“Wait!” Two took another step back, and bumped against the countertop that divided the kitchen from the living area.
“No,” the vampire said, still smiling, and leapt at her.
For the better part of her life, Two had been forced to let instinct dictate her actions. She had long ago learned to trust her impulses, and they had thus far saved her from death on several occasions. Had she taken the time to think, it would likely have brought only her murder at the hands of the vampire sailing through the air toward her. Instead, Two let instinct and adrenaline think for her, pushing up with her arms and falling backward over the counter behind her into the kitchen.
She hit her head hard on the tile floor and saw stars dancing in her vision as the vampire flew over her and landed on the stove with a crash. Still acting on instinct, Two was up and moving in an instant, away from the vampire and toward the front door of the apartment. She heard him shouting profanities behind her.
Two would have died anyway, no matter how good her instincts, if luck hadn’t been on her side. The vampire was simply too fast, was in fact already up from his landing and reaching out with his long arms. He caught her hair in his hand, and Two gave a yelping shriek of pain and fear as he pulled her backward off her feet.
He caught her before she could fall, spun her, and pushed her chin back with his powerful hands, exposing the same vein that the vampire woman had latched onto. Two knew she could not survive another feeding, and she beat
her fists against his chest, terrified and furious, but it did no good. She was helpless.
It was a voice that saved her, an angry shout that stopped her attacker in mid-bite, teeth only inches from Two’s skin.
“Stop! Farake, Stephen! Mishke kel, vi ma kovre sa tarseson munta teo maje.”
The vampire, Stephen, looked up and smiled.
“Oh, it’s not as bad as all that, surely,” he said.
“I am serious, Stephen,” the voice, a woman’s, snarled. “Release her. Right now!”
Stephen seemed to consider this for a moment, and then did what he was told. He let go of Two without warning, and she plummeted to the floor with a squawk of surprise. She pulled herself slowly to a sitting position and looked to see who had saved her. The vampire woman from the bar was looking down at her. She spoke, her voice now restrained.
“Hello, child of Eresh. I am Naomi, and I apologize for last night – and for my idiot friend who does not know how to mind his manners.”
Stephen was now propped against the counter, looking amused, not at all perturbed at having lost his opportunity to feed. He laughed. “Your idiot friend isn’t the one who left a human in the guest room without bothering to tell anyone, Naomi.”
“I made the assumption that you know me well enough to realize that if I’d wanted her dead, she would be dead.”
Stephen shrugged. “She’s food.”
“She is not.”
“She’s not a vampire. Look at her.”
Two, who had been trying to regain control of her heartbeat, grabbed the counter and hauled herself to a standing position. She scowled at the two vampires and said, “She’s getting tired of listening to you talk about her as if she’s not standing right fucking here.”
Stephen’s grin broadened. Even Naomi smiled a bit.
“Again, my apologies,” she said. “May I ask your name?”
“My name is Two. Like the number. How do you know I’m an Eresh?”
“I could taste it.”
Stephen laughed again. “Oh, the great Naomi attacked an Eresh? That’s genius. Brilliant! Senior Councilor Naomi Ames, unable even to tell a vampire lord from a common human.”
Naomi gave him a cool, disapproving look. “As you said yourself, she is not a vampire. Nevertheless, there is trace enough of it still in her veins that I was able to discern it. I wonder, Stephen, would you have been able to do so?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care. She’s got Eresh blood in her? Very well then – she’s safe. No hard feelings, human?”
“I said my name is Two.”
“Yes. Two, like the number. You may call me Stephen. Or at least, you could if we were to continue this conversation. I am bored to tears, Two-like-the-number, and am going back to my basketball game.”
Stephen stood, waved once, and moved back to the couch.
Naomi shook her head, sighed, and said, “Again, I must apologize for my companion.”
Two shrugged. “Whatever.”
“You were someone’s fledgling once, yes? But your sire has abandoned you, or died, and you have become human again.”
Two nodded. “Yes, that’s what happened.”
“May I ask who your master was?”
“He wasn’t my master at all. He was my … my lover, I guess. His name was Theroen Anders.”
Naomi took an involuntary step back, an expression of shock flashing across her face as if Two had slapped her. Two looked at the vampire woman for a moment, confused, and then felt understanding flood her mind. Of course this woman would know that name. Grey eyes, amber hair … Two’s legs felt shaky again. She leaned against the counter for support.
“Oh,” she said, her voice weak. “I get it. You’re that Naomi. Theroen thought you were dead.”
Naomi shook her head. “No, not dead. I would have contacted him, but Abraham forbade it and I was … disinclined to go against his wishes. It was you, then … the one who destroyed Abraham.”
Two looked away, afraid of the judgment she might see in Naomi’s eyes. She nodded. “That’s right. I killed him. I’m sorry.”
Naomi took a step forward and Two looked quickly back at her, trying not to flinch. To her surprise, the vampire was smiling.
“Sorry? I doubt that. I doubt that very much. Learning of that bastard’s death was the best news I’ve had in decades. I can only imagine how enjoyable performing the actual deed must have been. I … Two, are you all right?”
Two had gone pale and was visibly shaking. She held on to the counter like a sailor trying to weather a particularly violent storm.
“I think I’m going to throw up,” she said, her voice miserable. “Or pass out. Maybe both.”
“Sit down. No, on the floor, just sit down. Breathe deeply.”
Two did as she was told, sitting down, head bent, staring at the floor. Finally, she was able to gain some measure of control.
“I’m starving,” she said after a time.
“Yes, and bruised, and far too low on blood. You shouldn’t be moving about, and I should know better than to be bringing up traumatic moments from your recent past. I’m sorry, Two, there are just so many questions. We have so very much to discuss.”
Two laughed. It was a tired, grey sound, but there was some humor there, where none had been for many months.
“Yeah,” she said. “No kidding.”
Naomi helped Two to the unoccupied couch and instructed her to lie down.
“Thanks,” Two said, following the orders. “Do you have anything to eat? I guess probably not.”
“We have human guests occasionally. There might be something. I will check.”
Naomi moved into the kitchen. Two could hear her opening cupboard doors.
“Who’s playing?” Two asked Stephen.
Stephen glanced over at her, one eyebrow raised. “Do you actually care?”
“No. Sorry for interrupting your game before.”
“Quite all right.”
There was a moment of quiet. Naomi’s voice called out from the kitchen, “She’s expecting you to apologize for trying to kill her, now, Stephen.”
“It may be a long wait. Tell me, Two, do you apologize to your turkey sandwich before you eat it?”
Two smiled. “No, and I’m not expecting an apology. I’ve been on your side of the fence. I know what it’s like.”
“You were an Eresh, not an Ay’Araf. You do not ‘know what it’s like’ for us.”
“Oh, yes,” Naomi said, returning to the living room. “The unending hardships thrust upon the warrior caste. What they always forget to mention is that they’re the ones making things difficult. Two, I have a bag of cheese-flavored popcorn and a frozen chicken patty. Do either of those appeal to you?”
Two was ravenous. “Yes, either. Both. Right now, I think I’d eat cardboard soaked in water. I’ll pay you back.”
“Lord forbid we give up our chicken patty without compensation,” Stephen muttered.
“Enough,” Naomi told him, and returned to the kitchen.
“She’s always so serious. You’d think after four hundred years she’d … make it! Yes!” Stephen’s interest had once again been drawn to the basketball game.
Two lay on the couch, feeling weak and shaky. Her head spun with questions, so many that she was not sure where to start. At last, she began with something pedestrian.
“How old are you, Stephen?”
“Three hundred and twenty-seven years.”
“How long have you been in this country?”
“God, are we to make small talk now? I’m trying to watch this game.”
Two rolled her eyes. “Do you work at being a prick?”
“No,” Stephen said. “It comes naturally.”
Naomi returned to the room with a plate and a can of soda.
“It was 7-Up or a three hundred-dollar bottle of wine. I figured the former would go better with the popcorn,” she said, setting the food down on the coffee table.
“That’s fine.
Thanks.” Two sat up, fought off a wave of dizziness, and picked up the food. She tried not to wolf it down but had little success. Naomi watched her, amused, waiting.
When Two was done, the vampire woman asked, “Better?”
“Much. Thank you. Best chicken patty I’ve ever had.”
Stephen did not look away from the screen but laughed.
“He’s pretending not to be interested,” Naomi said, “but he’s not doing a very good job.”
“The two of you aren’t making it easy to ignore you,” Stephen replied without looking away from the screen.
“It’s a summer game, Stephen. It doesn’t even count. The woman who killed Abraham is lying next to you on the couch, and you’re worried about summer basketball?”
“It’s pre-season, not summer league. This is the one who killed Abraham?”
“Yes. Weren’t you listening earlier?”
“To you? Lord, no.”
Naomi made a sound of frustration. “Two was Theroen’s fledgling. She’s the one who freed us from Abraham.”
“Freed you?” Two asked.
“In the metaphorical sense,” Stephen said. He was looking at Two with new interest. “Abraham did not own us, but he sat at the head of the vampire council. As such, he held all civilized vampires in this country in some level of control.”
“God, there’s so much I don’t know,” said Two. She ran a hand through her hair and glanced around. She felt dazed from the loss of blood, the hit on her head when she had fallen on the floor, the adrenaline, and the sudden return of emotion to a life that had seemed so empty. Two covered her face with her hands, fighting tears.
“Are you all right?” Naomi asked gently, as if she already knew the answer.
Two shook her head, keeping her hands where they were.
“He’s dead,” she said at last. “He’s dead and I couldn’t stop it.”
“Abraham?” Stephen asked.
Two sobbed once, unable to answer, fighting to retain control.
Naomi answered for her. “No, Theroen.”
“Ah. So it was like that, then.”
Blood Hunt Page 9