Undying Vengeance

by Burnham, K. L.

  “Get in the car!” Alex hollered.

  Adam looked at his dad, a glazed expression in his eyes. “Oh my God, what is that thing?” He asked and craned his neck to look at the hawk. He couldn’t move. It was like his feet were cemented to the pavement.

  Alex rolled his eyes and screamed, “What does it look like?” If his son couldn’t figure out it was a hawk, maybe he should just drive off and leave him to fend for himself. But, he knew Adam lacked the ability and knowledge to think clearly. He wasn’t smart enough to run back into the house. His son would more than likely run into the street and let the hawk chase him. God, Alex wondered how such a stupid excuse for a human being could come from his seed? What had he done wrong? Ah, nothing. It was the mother’s fault. She was about as smart as a box of rocks. “Dead and gone since Adam’s birth, and for the better,” Alex said and smiled. A scowl replaced the smile when he heard the hawk clawing the hood of his Cadillac again. The cost of a new paint job wreaked havoc on his mind. And there stood Adam, immovable. Frustrated, he honked the horn numerous times.

  Adam jumped and fell backwards landing on his butt.

  The hawk hated the horn and it fueled the flames of anger. The hawk spread its wings flew into the air and descended at light speed using its strong sharp beak as a weapon. It slammed into the middle of the windshield making a large circular chip.

  Alex, his face red as a ruby cursed and watched the crack grow eleven arms and spread from the top to the bottom of the windshield. Anger boiled his blood. Cursed be his stupid son.

  Adam hobbled to the car like a man with a gimp knee. The hawk struck him and Adam dropped to his knees and cradled his head.

  “Dad, help me!” He screamed.

  The hawk flew a few feet away, turned and aimed for Adam again. He hit him and knocked him onto his back. The hawk stood on Adam’s chest and stared into Adam’s soul, eyes yellow and hateful.

  Adam turned his head and closed his eyes hoping when he opened them the hawk would be gone.

  Alex pushed the garage door opener, stepped out of the car and ran into the garage. He needed a weapon to whack this creature with.

  The hawk dug its claws into Adam’s stomach. Adam cried out in agony.

  Alex ran toward them with a shovel raised over his head, “Now you’re going to die, you miserable bird,” Alex seethed. “The first hit will be for ruining my car. Prepare to die!”

  ‘Get out of there.’ The hawk heard Donovan say. The hawk pierced Adam’s cheek with its beak and tore off a small piece of flesh.

  Adam screamed a blood curdling scream. Alex was steps away with the shovel in hand. The hawk lifted its head, the flesh hung from its beak and swayed in the breeze. Victory in its cold yellow eyes as it stared at Alex.

  The shovel came down, but not before the hawk ascended and flew high to the angels. ‘Close call,’ the hawk thought. He felt the wind from the shovel skim his feathers.

  The hawk circled above and watched in amusement as the shovel came down hard, hitting Adam’s stomach and ribs.

  “Dad!” Adam screamed in pain and agony. He curled in the fetal position and cradled his ribs and stomach.

  The hawk sat in a tree satisfied with the torment it had caused. It flung the flesh from its beak disgusted at the evil it tasted in Adam’s blood.

  Alex threw the shovel aside and dropped to his knees beside Adam. “I’m so sorry, son. I didn’t mean to hit you.”

  Adam kept his face turned so his tears would go unnoticed. A sign of weakness he wasn’t about to let his father see. For all he knew, he’d be hit with the shovel again for that. His father said he was sorry but to Adam they were empty words.

  Alex stood and looked into the sky. The hawk appeared to be gone. “Get up. Let’s get you to the hospital.” He extended his hand and took hold of Adam’s, helping him to his feet. “Come, we have much to do.”

  Adam cringed and tears filled his eyes. Adam stumbled to the car, one hand on his cheek and the other holding his ribs. At least his dad had opened the door for him. He slowly maneuvered himself into the passenger seat.

  “Put this on your cheek,” Alex said and opened the glove compartment handing him a few tissues. “It will stop the bleeding. I don’t want blood getting on the interior of my car.” He slammed the car door and walked fast around the front of the car to the driver’s side.

  Before getting in the car Alex scanned the hood of the car and cussed like a drunken sailor. It was ruined and a new paint job was on his to do list now. He plopped in the car, glanced at Adam and shut his door.

  “Can you drive fast to the hospital?” Adam asked. “I’m in so much pain.”

  Alex nodded. “Yes, I sure can. We’re going to make a visit later to Simone’s grave. We need to pay our condolences.” He tipped his head back and laughed the most God awful wicked laugh Adam had ever heard.

  Adam shivered. “I thought of something. Remember Gabe telling us about the things he has been seeing?” He questioned.

  “Yes, I do. But, this is just a coincidence.” He said matter-of-fact. “It’s nothing more and nothing less.”

  Adam didn’t believe his father. “He told us of this exact same hawk attacking him with a creature or vampire or something.” He paused and watched the trees flash by the window as they sped to the hospital. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”

  Alex coughed, lit a cigarette and cracked the window. “Close your eyes and rest. I don’t want to hear anymore about Gabe and his silly stories.” He ordered. “Understood?”

  Adam nodded his head. “Yes.” He couldn’t have disagreed more.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Rex stepped out of his house, keys dangling in hand. He needed to get to Armani’s as soon as possible. He slicked his wet hair from his face and got into his car and revved the engine of his sleek red Ford Mustang.

  He pulled out of the driveway and gazed at the sunrise. They always reminded him of Armani and the better days. Armani loved sunrises. It was the hope for a new day.

  The neighborhood slept. Drapes were pulled and lights were out. The people in the homes didn’t realize just how lucky they were to have a peaceful night’s sleep. Rex envied that more than anything. Sleep robbed him like a thief in the night. The past few weeks Rex felt like he was in a trance, walking with his eyes open, watching himself but not feeling anything that was happening.

  His cell phone rang. He checked the number and sighed. It wasn’t Armani. It was the same number that had been repeatedly calling him since he got in the shower. He assumed it was a salesman so he avoided answering. He threw the phone aside and stopped for a red light.

  A shadow flew over top of the car. Rex leaned forward and stared at a black hawk. What the hell was going on? He looked closer and saw the white spot on its chest. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. Could it be the same hawk he had seen at Armani’s?

  Determination etched the lines of his face like a sculpted statue. He gripped the steering wheel, vowing to get to the bottom of things and end the madness plaguing him. His recent dreams were all too real. Vampires, wolves, hawks and two people always present with them, only they were not entirely men. Rex was ready to admit himself to a mental hospital. Enough of entertaining the idea, maybe he should just drive there, but no, not without Armani in tow. His best friend needed help.

  The phone ringing cut into his thoughts and broke his silent questions.

  Rex looked and saw same number on the caller ID screen. He swallowed hard and answered, “Hello.”

  “Hello, Rex.” A deep voice said.

  The voice sounded familiar and chills ran down his spine. “Who are you? Why do you keep calling me?” Rex asked confused.

  Laughter on the other end of the line filled the silent gap.

  “I don’t have time to play games with you. Give me your damn name and what business you have calling me,” Rex ordered, making a sharp right turn onto the highway.

  “My friend, this is Donovan.”

  Rex sh
ook his head. Was this another dream? He rolled down the window to get some fresh air.

  “What’s going on? What do you want?” Rex asked confusion thick as honey in his voice.

  “Rex, I don’t want to hurt you and I have no intention of hurting Armani.” He paused, hoping Rex would hear the sincerity in his voice. “Let me advise you to stay away from Armani for awhile. There are matters being taken care of and I’m afraid if you show up, you won’t live to see your best friend again.” Donovan thought of Victor. Rex would be killed in an instant if he set foot on Armani’s property. Victor’s sympathy and reasoning were gone with the wind as of late. Donovan knew the master of the Dark One’s would view Rex as an obstacle and obstacles never stood in the way of Victor’s plans.

  Rex gulped, palms sweating. “What are you talking about? I deserve an explanation.” He ordered. “Armani is my best friend, my brother. You must understand this.” Rex pleaded with Donovan.

  Donovan’s heart went out to Rex. Some things he wasn’t allowed to disclose yet. It would be up to Armani to share with Rex the transformation and his decision to cross over and become a vampire. Donovan would be as honest with Rex as was possible.

  “My dear friend, Armani is undergoing a treatment as we speak. Please, I beg of you, do not come to his house right now.” Donovan stated his voice soothing.

  Anger flushed Rex’s cheeks. “Who are you to tell me to stay away from his home? I will not listen to you, so go to hell.”

  Donovan understood denial. The sad fact was that Donovan was already in hell and had been since his lover had been killed centuries ago at the hands of her uncle.

  “Damn you!” Rex screamed. “Prepare for a battle then. I am on my way.”

  “Please Rex. I beg of you to stay away for a short time. You will see your friend in due time. He is safe with me and no harm will come his way. I promise.”

  Rex snorted and laughed. “Ha. You are trying to scare me and give me your word of honor that he is safe with you? Ridiculous! If that’s true and I can trust you then I see no problem with showing up at Armani’s house. See you soon.” Rex hollered into the receiver holding the phone in front of his face. He hung up and threw the phone on the floor.

  Nothing was going to stop Rex from going to Armani’s house, especially not now. Empty threats made by some carnival freak dressed like a vampire with a hawk as its sideshow. Screw this. He stepped on the accelerator, sped up and prayed he wouldn’t get pulled over for going forty miles per hour over the speed limit.

  Donovan hung up, his brow creased with concern and worry. He couldn’t let anything happen to Rex. Armani would never forgive him if any harm came to his best friend. A still small voice told him forgiveness would be hard to come by for deceiving Armani in order to convince him to cross over. He didn’t need one more thing plaguing his already guilty conscious. What would Victor do when Rex showed up at the door? This question plagued his mind. Time would tell.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Katrina slicked her wet hair from her face. The pool was relaxing and just what she needed. Well, except for her beloved dog. When was Victor going to come through on his promise to bring her dog and all of her things to his house? Why wouldn’t he just let her go? Because Victor had plans in store for her and she knew it.

  Panic washed over her, making her head spin. She sat in a poolside chair and placed her head between her knees and cried. How would she get out of here? There was nowhere to go that would allow her to escape Victor. ‘I will always find you no matter where you go. And that means anywhere in the world.’ Those were Victor’s exact words to her. She shuddered wrapping the towel tightly around her shoulders. His refusal to answer her many questions bothered her. Why in the hell should she trust someone who refuses to share their storyline with her? How in God’s name did he become a vampire? He was as silent as a mouse when she asked him these questions. Would he kill her? Katrina knew the answer. Yes, he would and it wouldn’t even bother him in the least.

  She held out her hands and saw they were shaking like a crack addicts after a hit. She shook her hands violently and clapped them. Damn it. They wouldn’t stop shaking. What sort of power did this vampire have over her? Would Victor expect her to cross over and become a vampire too? He had been referring to her as his queen and from reading vampire novels, she assumed that was what the male vampire called his chosen wife. She would rather die than become a vampire.

  Katrina stood and the towel dropped exposing her naked body. She picked up her clothes, slipping them on and left the poolroom. The door slammed hard behind her. She jumped, her heart skipping a beat.

  Head pounding she walked to Victor’s lair and stared at the steel door. She placed her hands on the door and winced. It was stone cold. She squatted and checked if there was a crack under the door. No luck. It was sealed tight like a vault. She knew there was a black coffin in the room, but there had to be things even more precious that lye behind the door and Katrina had to know what they were. It would help her put together the pieces of the puzzle named ‘Victor’.

  Katrina looked around the basement. She had that feeling of being watched. An old eighties song played in her head. ‘I always feel like somebody’s watching me.’ Katrina chuckled realizing she was humming the chorus.

  “Get a grip, Katrina,” she ordered and blinked. She was having a discussion with herself. “As long as I don’t answer myself I guess I’m not crazy.” Locked up in Victor’s home made her feel like craziness ascended upon her like a fog on the sea in the early morning hours.

  She faced the door and placed her hands on the large circular vault opener, resembling the doors of a bank’s safe. Boy, Victor sure was worried about his safety.

  Katrina grunted trying to turn the handle but it wouldn’t budge.

  “Curiosity killed the cat, right Victor? Well, I’m not your cat and never will be!” She screamed. “I will find a way out.”

  Katrina leaned her back against the door, slid down and sat in front of Victor’s lair. She had to figure out a way to get inside and start putting this mystery together. It was detrimental that she learned about Victor. Would it soften her heart towards him? It was a possibility but she could never love a vampire. That was insane. Victor was a very handsome vampire. But, there was more to love than just the outer appearances. The inside and who the person or vampire was mattered more in the end.

  ‘Vampire’s don’t age,’ a voice whispered to her. It sounded like Victor.

  That was true. So what? Victor would always be handsome, but that didn’t answer the questions she had about the colors of his heart and soul. Those were eternal too.

  She wrapped her arms around herself, picked up the key and walked to the stairs. She needed to get out of the basements atmosphere. The feeling of being watched suffocated and nauseated her. She needed and wanted food.

  Taking the steps two at a time she reached the top and gasped for air. She shot a glance backwards to see if something was chasing her. She wiped her forehead and turned fumbling with the key. Katrina breathed trying to slow her heart rate. She shoved the key in the keyhole, pushed the door open and stepped into the main floor. Katrina shut the door hard and double checked to see it was locked and skipped toward the kitchen.

  She pulled the refrigerator’s door open. It was stocked with the best food money could buy. Katrina decided to warm up a left over hamburger. It was simple and quick. She wanted to get back in the basement and figure out a way into Victor’s lair. Ignoring Victor’s advice may be the biggest mistake of her life but it was a risk she was willing to take. After all, she assumed she would die here anyway. Why not know the truth before she died? That made more sense than to die not knowing, she reasoned. Curiosity, reasoning and justification were a few of her greatest weaknesses. It was an impulsive thing. Her father always told her that one day her curiosity would get her in such a heap of trouble that there would be no way out.

  “Well, dad you may be right this time, but honestly I see no w
ay out of here as it is.” Her dad had been dead since she was a young girl but she still talked to him as if he were alive and present with her wherever she was. If only she could call him to help her out of this mess. A tear trickled down her cheek and she brushed it away. She didn’t have time to reminisce. She had her life to do that. Well, maybe depending on Victor’s intentions with her.

  She warmed a hamburger in the microwave, threw on a few toppings and ate it in less than a minute. Scanning the cupboards she realized there wasn’t much healthy food in the house. Must be Victor’s way of fattening her up for the feast or maybe all the junk food would make her blood taste sweeter. So be it, she thought and grabbed a bag of Doritos and ripped the bag open, shoving a handful in her mouth. She clicked open a can of Coke. The air spurted and the soda welcomed her with the fizzy noise. She gulped half the can and belched. She laughed out loud. What would Victor think if he saw her act so unladylike? She pictured his handsome face twisted in disgust at such inappropriate and improper behavior.

  She left the kitchen and walked down a winding hallway. The walls were covered with eerie strange pictures. The pictures were dark, scary, gothic, painful and morbid. Katrina stopped, placed her hands on her hips and tipped her head to the side. The first was a painting of a little bruised and beaten boy huddled in a corner. His knees were drawn to his chest and he peeked from around his leg. She looked closer at his eyes. They showed fear like a cornered animal ready to be killed.

  “What happened to you?” She asked and touched the boy in the picture. “And why in the world would Victor hang this type of art on his walls?” The room’s temperature turned to ice. She shivered and walked further down the hall willing herself not to look at the other pictures. Her peripheral vision failed her. She looked at the other pictures and saw they were all of abused children and the boy in the first picture stared at her from each picture as if begging her to rescue him from pain and torture.