Blood Hunt

by Christopher Buecheler

  No one answered him, and for a time, silence descended on the group. Two picked up Theroen’s hand in her own and stroked his fingers gently. She was sorry for knocking his hand away earlier and tried to make this obvious in her thoughts. If Theroen could read it he gave no indication, but she hoped that he understood.

  At last, there was the sound of the cathedral’s front door opening, and Jakob stood.

  “My men are here with clothing,” he said. “Let us all change and get on our way. I would like for this night to be over.”

  * * *

  “She didn’t mean the things that she said.”

  Theroen was standing at the entrance to the hotel room’s bathroom, naked except for a towel tied around his waist, leaning against the door frame. Two, more thoroughly soaked in blood than he had been, had taken the first shower. Theroen was now done with his, and Two had been amused to hear him humming to himself as he brushed his teeth. She recognized the tune not as something from his long past, but rather a pop song that had been popular just two years ago.

  “Who?” she asked now, glancing up at him from the bed where she had been reading. “Naomi?”

  “Yes.”

  “Of course she did.”

  Theroen was silent, looking at her, waiting for her to elaborate. At last Two sighed, setting her magazine down on the bed.

  “You know what Naomi learned from what happened to Lisette? She learned not to make waves. She learned to play politics, follow the rules, and not piss anyone off. It kept her alive even when she was just a fledgling with a dead master, stuck in the middle of Europe with no friends and no idea what to do next. She went to the European council, and they put her in touch with other vampires who could help her. That was how she learned to be a diplomat, and how she learned that if she didn’t have something nice to say, she probably shouldn’t say anything at all.”

  “I’m not sure how that coincides with her screaming at you,” Theroen said.

  “That’s the point, though. Listen, Naomi couldn’t admit to me that she blamed you for Lisette. Even when we were lying in bed together she said she didn’t blame you, but that wasn’t the truth. It took Stephen … it took him getting killed for her walls to finally come down enough for her to tell us the truth about how she felt.”

  “I wish I could help ease her pain,” Theroen said. “But I don’t see how I can. She is right to blame me for Lisette’s death.”

  Two shook her head. “Oh, baby, she doesn’t blame you for that. I know you blame yourself, but it wasn’t your fault. It was Lisette’s fault, and Abraham’s fault, and Naomi understands that. What hurt her … what’s still hurting her is that Lisette chose you. She made Naomi her fledgling, but she loved you.”

  “I never knew,” Theroen said. His eyes were distant, and Two guessed he was going back through his memories of times long ago, searching for clues that he might have picked up as to Naomi’s true feelings.

  “She kept it inside,” Two said. “She didn’t want you to know. She was happy for the two of you! She … it’s complicated. Love is fucking complicated.”

  Theroen nodded.

  “As for the rest of it, I mean … is it any surprise she was upset that as soon as I heard we might be able to bring you back, it pretty much nuked our relationship? Blaming you for Stephen was unfair, but it’s probably the only thing she said that she didn’t mean.”

  “What about the things she said when you went to talk to her?” Theroen asked. Two had told him about that on their way from the Cathedral to the hotel. She had seen no sense in hiding it from him.

  “What, that I’m a horrible, ungrateful, manipulative bitch who never loved her like she loved me, no matter what she did to make me happy? That’s all true.”

  Theroen left the doorway now and sat down beside her on the bed. He took her hand, pressed his lips to it, and smiled.

  “I don’t think it’s true,” he said. “Or at least, I don’t think your actions were anywhere near that intentional and malicious.”

  “Sometimes people can be pretty malicious without meaning to,” Two said. “I … I need to be a better person, Theroen. I need to be less selfish and impulsive. I need to make up for all the shit I’ve caused for so many people. I owe it to people like Melissa and Stephen. Naomi. Rhes and Sarah and Molly. I owe it to you. All of those people believed in me.”

  “We still do,” Theroen said. He leaned over and kissed her. Two kissed back, broke away, closed her eyes and put her face against his neck. His skin was warm, his heart beating. He was here, real, and that fact seemed to fill her with a strength she hadn’t felt in so long.

  “Will you help me?” she asked him. “We’re together in this now, right? You and me? Will you help me to be someone better than I am now?”

  Theroen put one hand in her hair, traced the other up and down along her back, said, “I will help you to be whoever you wish to be.”

  “You’re not going to leave me again?”

  “I am not going anywhere.”

  Two wrapped her arms around him, clutching him to her, holding him tight. Theroen returned her embrace.

  “My love,” she whispered.

  * * *

  Members of the American council of vampires held services for Stephen on Christmas Eve. William led the event, as Malik had tendered his formal resignation from the council the previous evening. The funeral was attended by many Ay’Araf vampires, and not a few from the other races. For all his abrasive qualities, Stephen had been well-respected among the vampires of North America.

  Naomi had declined the opportunity to present a eulogy, not wanting to break down in front of her fellow vampires. She was sitting in the first row, next to a man Two did not know but who looked equally devastated. Two thought the man might be Stephen’s sire.

  It was Jakob who delivered the principal speech of the evening, and he took the podium with an expression of deep sadness, looking out over his fellow vampires for a moment before addressing them.

  “Stephen was my friend and I will miss him,” he began. “I will miss his experience and his insight, his humor and his sarcasm. I will miss sparring with him, with words and with weapons. Most of all, I will miss his honesty – the knowledge that whatever his opinion of the subject at hand, I was sure to get it without filters … of any sort.”

  The crowd chuckled at this. Even Naomi managed a laugh through her tears.

  “It pains me so very much to have to stand here today,” Jakob continued. “It pains me to acknowledge that I will never see him again, never laugh with him, never argue with him. It pains me, yet it is the least I can do for him. The very least.

  “Stephen Connelly was a good man, a good fighter, and a good friend. He gave all that he could in the service of his fellow vampires. In the end, he gave the most precious thing he had to offer: his life. Today we honor him. We will not forget him, nor the sacrifice he has made so that others of us might live. Goodbye, Stephen. Goodbye, my friend.”

  Jakob’s voice cracked on the last sentence, and he bowed his head briefly as he attempted to regain control. Eventually he made his way back to sit down next to Sasha, who looked tired and pale. Her left arm was still heavily bandaged and partially bound to her body to immobilize it. She leaned her head on Jakob’s shoulder and he took her good right hand in his.

  Two had started crying only a few moments after walking through the cathedral doors and had been unable to stop since. She was weeping now, holding a tissue to her eyes with one hand, the other clutching Theroen’s. These were not the hard, harsh sobs of anguish that she had gotten out of the way earlier, first standing under the shower at their hotel and then kneeling, leaning against the tiled wall, her legs no longer able to support the weight of her grief. Instead, it seemed simply that her eyes would not stop leaking tears, no matter who was speaking, or what the subject was.

  Two listened as William told of Stephen’s many contributions to vampire society and the work he had done on behalf of the council on bot
h sides of the ocean. She listened as some of his Ay’Araf friends told stories about him. She listened as the man who had been sitting next to Naomi, now proven to be Stephen’s sire, told of the young and brash human he had once known.

  At last, the service came to an end. Stephen’s casket was brought away by a group of Ay’Araf men and women, Jakob among them, and the funeral attendees stood, breaking off into small groups to talk among themselves. Two was surprised to see that Naomi, now somewhat more composed, was making her way over.

  “Hi,” she said as she reached Two.

  “Are you OK?” Two asked.

  Naomi smiled a little, sniffled, dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “I’ve been better.”

  “Yeah. No kidding. Look, Naomi—”

  Naomi held up her hand. “No, wait. Let me go first. I … I’ve spent some time talking with Mother Ashayt, these past few days. She is helping me to deal with what happened. Not just Stephen, but all of it.”

  Naomi glanced down at the floor. Two and Theroen waited, silent, letting her gather her thoughts.

  “It was wrong of me to say the things I said … to both of you,” Naomi said at last. “That’s not … it’s not the politician talking. I’m not trying to win points or … or smooth feathers. Do you understand? It’s just me. Just the stupid, needy, pick-pocket servant girl who’s been hiding behind the façade for all these years. What I said was wrong.”

  “Under the circumstances, we can hardly blame you,” Theroen said.

  “Stephen and I …” Naomi shook her head, sighed, and looked like she was about to begin crying again but forced it away. “In nineteen-seventy, in August, he and I went to Ireland together. I’d known him for two years and we’d become quite close. We toured the countryside by night and ended up staying just outside of Galway, on the western coast, near the place where he was born. One night, just after the sun had set, we went down and walked on the same beach he had walked as a child, and I kissed him. I told him I loved him, and I kissed him.

  “He stopped me, of course. We went through all the usual things that people say when they don’t want to start a relationship. He told me I was wonderful, that it was because of his issues and not me that we couldn’t be together. He told me he wished it could be different, but that he would never be right for me. He said I deserved someone who would want to see plays and read poetry with me. He said I should find someone who could love me in all of the ways that I could love them. I didn’t know what he meant, not then, but I do now.

  “He knew he couldn’t make love to me, and I think he believed that would eventually drive us apart. He never said it outright, and he never even tried asking me how I felt about it. I guess he didn’t believe that I could stop, even if I wanted to. He was probably right, and I don’t think he could stand the idea of me being with someone else in that way, not if the two of us were together. Not if I was ‘his.’

  “We never talked about it again, after that night. I never stopped loving him, exactly, but I stopped wanting him and needing him in that way. Others came and went, like they have for so much of my life, and he never said anything. I always assumed that the truth of it was that he just didn’t feel that way about me. That’s what I thought right up until the night he died.”

  “August eighteenth,” Two said, her voice barely more than a murmur. “That’s what he said, right? That since then there was only you.”

  Naomi sobbed. Pressed her hands against her face. Nodded.

  “He loved me all this time,” she cried. “He loved me, but he kept me away, and now he’s dead. I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I couldn’t do anything but stand there and watch him die!”

  Two moved forward, standing up on tiptoes and putting her arms around her friend. Naomi stiffened at first, then hugged back, weeping. Eventually, with a great deal of effort, she regained control of herself.

  “The two of you have something important,” she said, looking at each of them in turn. Her makeup had run, forming dark circles under her red-rimmed eyes. “Don’t lose it. Don’t walk away from it or forget it or let it die. Don’t let something stupid get in the way. Just … just love each other.”

  “OK, Naomi.” Two said. “Is there anything we can do for you?”

  Naomi shook her head. “I’m going to take Stephen’s ashes to Ireland. There will be another service there, and then I’m going to take him to that little strip of sand, and cast him into the wind. I think it’s what he would have wanted. Then I … I’ll be back. William is taking over the council, and he’ll need an apprentice. Making peace with the Burilgi is going to be a lot of work, and we still have to find your friend. There’s so much to do …”

  “We’ll be here to help,” Two said. “Theroen and me and all of your other friends.”

  Naomi gave Two a small, sad smile, but she nodded. “Yes. You and Jakob and Sasha. We’ll work together. Just forgive me if I … sometimes it’s … I don’t know.”

  “It’s complicated,” Two said.

  “Yes, exactly. Complicated.”

  Someone called Naomi’s name and she glanced over her shoulder, gave a small wave, and turned back to Two and Theroen.

  “I suppose I should mingle,” she said. Two nodded.

  “Us, too. Have to introduce Theroen to, well, everyone.”

  Naomi smiled, dabbed again at her eyes with the tissue, then rolled them when she saw the amount of eyeliner that had come away.

  “I must look ridiculous. Oh, well. Stephen would laugh at me and then tell me to get over it.”

  Two smiled, nodded. Naomi closed her eyes and breathed deeply. After a moment she opened them again, and Two could see a steadiness in her gaze that hadn’t been there before. Naomi the politician was back, shutters closed tight over the windows to her soul.

  “I’ll see you both soon. Two, we need to introduce Theroen to L’Obscurité. I’m sure Thomas has missed us terribly.”

  With that, Naomi turned and made her way off into the crowd. Theroen turned and gave Two an appraising look.

  “What?” Two asked.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Well, I’m awkwardly patching things up with my ex, in front of my boyfriend, at a friend’s funeral,” Two said. “This is life, right?”

  Theroen nodded. “This is life.”

  “Yeah. Well, then I guess I’m all right.”

  “I am pleased to hear it,” Theroen said.

  “Good. OK, let’s go meet people. Let me know if you see Jakob, too. Stephen was going to teach me to fight, and I’m pretty sure he’d be pissed off if I didn’t see it through. I’m hoping Jakob will be up to the challenge.”

  Theroen smiled, took her hand, and together they made their way toward the crowd of people gathered at the back of the cathedral.

  * * *

  “They cut off her arm?!” Molly cried. “No way!”

  “I saw it happen … it was awful.” Two told her. She was sitting in an arm chair in Rhes and Sarah’s living room. Molly and her parents sat across from Two, on the couch. Two had spent most of the past hour and a half filling them in on what had happened since she had first encountered Naomi at L’Obscurité.

  “That sucks,” Molly said. “Is she going to be OK?”

  “I think so. They stitched her up and gave her some blood and sent her home. At least she’s still alive. Aros killed my friend Stephen.”

  It still hurt, saying this out loud, but Two knew she had to acknowledge it. She had to accept it, had to deal with the pain and the grief that Stephen’s death brought her. She rubbed her arm across her eyes, which had gone suddenly wet with tears.

  “I’m sorry you lost your friend, Two,” Sarah said.

  Two nodded, shrugged. “It happened. It’s awful, and I wish I could change it somehow, but I can’t. Aros got what was coming to him. Jakob shot him twice in the head, and the rest of his people took off.”

  “He didn’t deserve any better,” Rhes said.

  “No, probably not,” Two said
. “I just wish …”

  “That it hadn’t cost so much,” Sarah said.

  “Yeah.”

  “But now it’s over?” Rhes asked. “I mean, no offense, Two, but we’d really love to get back to normal life. Sarah almost lost her job, Molly missed a week of school, and I got to lie to our other friends and tell them that I surprised the girls with an unplanned trip upstate, where Sarah and I somehow managed to both lose our cell phones.”

  Two put a hand to her forehead. “Christ … yeah, I wouldn’t blame you if you just wanted me out of your life entirely.”

  “The thought has crossed our minds,” Sarah said.

  “Not mine,” Molly said. “I don’t want you to disappear again, Two!”

  “I wasn’t serious,” Sarah said. “At least, mostly. For better or for worse, Two, you’re our friend. You’re in our lives, and we like that. It was because we wanted you in our lives that we went out and got involved in this in the first place.”

  “OK,” said Two. “And thanks. Honestly, though, it’s going to be weird. I mean … I’m a vampire. It still feels strange to say that, especially to all of you, but it’s not like you don’t know it. I can move faster and lift more than I’m supposed to. I’m not going to get sick or age. Sunlight makes me tired and kinda burns when it touches me. I drink blood for Christ’s sake. I had some on the way here.”

  “You didn’t, ah … kill anyone, did you?” Rhes asked.

  Two smiled a little, shaking her head. “No … whatever it is that Theroen made me, it’s not like before. I don’t need that much and I can break away pretty easy. I just lured a guy into a Starbucks bathroom. I’m … pretty sure he enjoyed it. He made kind of a mess.”

  “OK, that’s gross,” Sarah said. “Moving on …”

  “I think you’re going to have to be, like …” Rhes found himself searching for a way to explain. “You know that crazy uncle in The Nutcracker?”

  “Drosselmeyer,” Sarah said.

  “Right, him. The guy who swings by once or twice a year with tales of exotic trips and brings weird gifts. Magical nutcrackers and talking coconut monkey heads and all the crazy shit that we’re not supposed to believe in, but now we don’t have any choice because our friend’s a friggin’ vampire.”