by Ramy Vance
“OK,” I said, goosebumps running down my spine. This is just a dream, I tried to reassure myself, but reassurance would not come. Only dread and fear.
“Ask yourself, Peculiar Girl, now that the gods are gone … where do souls go after the body dies?”
“I … I don’t know.”
“No one does,” he said. “That doesn’t make the question any less important. Now, do what you must.” He pulled at his shirt collar as he stretched out his neck, inviting me to … what? Bite him?
I was human. I no longer bit anyone (well, sometime Justin in jest, but that was it), and yet seeing the large jugular vein exposed on his aged neck, I felt drawn to him.
And the life force flowing within him.
Compelled in that nonsensical way only true of dreams, I came forward, wrapping my arms around him. I placed my lips on his neck, and expecting him to draw away, I held him tighter. But he didn’t try to pull away.
Instead, he stayed perfectly still.
I hesitated, and the Old Librarian said, “Peculiar Girl, do as is your nature.”
My nature? I was human, but if I were a vampire, my nature would have been to … bite.
I bit down hard on his neck, positioning my fangs to pierce his jugular vein. The blood erupted out of him. Warm and glorious and comforting and—
Holy shit, I’m killing him, I thought, pulling away from him and from my dream.
I woke up in a near scream. Thank the GoneGods it was just a dream.
↔
I woke up desperate to get the taste of blood out of my mouth. Dream or not, that felt way too real, and the memory of how glorious blood tasted when you were a vampire came flooding back to me. Also, killing the Old Librarian—someone I had considered a friend—was terrifying.
And what was up with all the riddling stuff? I knew it was just a dream, but I also knew enough about dreams to realize that sometimes they shouldn’t be dismissed. I’d have to mull over the Old Librarian’s words, but later. Now I needed to get ready for tonight’s festivities.
When I got up, I found Deirdre meditating naked in the middle of the floor. And given she was in the lotus potion, she looked damn good. Then again, Deirdre was blessed with such a perfect body that she’d look good picking her toenails naked.
Moving as quietly as I could so as to not disturb her, I made my way to the other side. Something was off and my first thought was that the room was pitch black. But it was nighttime and we were in the basement, so darkness wasn’t unexpected. What was strange was how well-adjusted my eyes were. I could see everything—including Deirdre’s lotus-ness—so well that I thought she must have left the lights on …
But they were off.
OK, light streaming from beneath the door? I looked at the threshold, expecting to see an overbearing glow entering my room, but instead I saw the usual amount of neon.
Whatever, I thought. Still got my spaghetti brain on. A shower will wake me up.
I grabbed my toiletries and walked into the bathroom. Showered, did a couple unmentionables, and it was time to brush my teeth.
Shoving my toothbrush into my mouth, I considered all I had to do today. The gathering would start in a couple hours and—
As I brushed, I felt two familiar bumps in my mouth.
Very familiar.
Parting my lips wide, I looked into the mirror and saw—
“No, no, no!” I cried out.
Deirdre was in the bathroom in a flash. “What is it, milady?” she said, before narrowing her eyes in confusion. “Milady, you have fangs.”
Regression is a Bitch
Deirdre reached out to me with one hand while balling the other into a fist. I understood the conflict in her being immediately. The fae saw vampires as abominations created by dark magic. Fae, being fae, did not dabble in dark magic. Ever.
But their sworn enemies and counterparts—orcs, goblins and trolls—did, and Deirdre, being a fae changeling warrior, was sworn to fight those forces of evil until her dying breath.
And here I was … a vampire. Something that could only happen because of dark magic.
But I was her friend, too. The girl who she’d sworn her sword arm to on the first day of school and someone with whom she’d fought side by side in numerous situations.
I was a vampire and she didn’t know what to do.
Well, that made two of us. I touched one of my fangs, pressing my thumb into its point and drawing blood. I looked at my thumb, which immediately healed. How vampire-y of me.
“What … what happened, milady?”
“If I knew, I would tell you,” I said, flexing my muscles as I felt familiar strength flowing through my veins.
I was starting to feel old urges. Hunger for blood was one, but that wasn’t the worst urge surging through me.
An old selfishness crept into my being. A feeling that I was no longer concerned with mortals and their little ways … that I was something more—something else.
“No,” I said, chasing that sense of superiority away, “this is just the curse. Before sleeping I thought to myself that all this would be easier if I was a vampire again. What is the human expression? ‘Be careful what you wish for.’ ”
I stopped talking, mulling over my choice of words: “What is the human expression?” “Human expression?” It wasn’t taking long for me to revert to old habits.
I slammed my hand onto the porcelain sink, shattering it. Shit … how was I going to explain that to the resident admin? “Sorry, but now that I’m a vampire again I simply don’t know my own strength.”
I’d worry about that later. For now I had bigger demons to de-fang. Namely, myself. Looking at myself in the mirror, I growled, “I’m human now.” I didn’t know who I was speaking to—Deirdre, myself, whoever was left in the universe to listen. “I will not be taken back to who I was. Not now. Not ever.”
Deirdre stepped forward and clasped me with two strong hands. It was a changeling show of solidarity—a clasp meant to be strong and unbreakable. In other words, she meant to hold me tight to let me know that she was on my side … but I pulled away as if she were a toddler trying to grab my legs.
Even at my most vampiric I couldn’t have so easily pulled away from a changeling who meant to hold me. My strength wasn’t just back … I was stronger than ever.
“Milady,” Deirdre said, her voice quavering in near helplessness.
I smiled. When the changeling saw my fangs, she growled. I retracted them, making my smile more human. “Find Egya and tell him what’s happened to me. Tell him that everything will go ahead as planned. That we only need to break the curse and I’ll be human again.”
Of course, in my vampire-y selfishness, I didn’t add: “And we’ll save everyone else in the process.”
↔
Popping my fangs back in, I went to my room to dress for tonight’s festivities. It was strange, but only hours ago I’d dreaded tonight. Now I relished the hunt. I would smash my fist through Wizard Crusader’s helmet, imprinting its metal into his brain. I would—
“Do no such thing,” I said out loud. “I am human. HUMAN. Humans do not kill unless absolutely necessary.”
Quite the contrary, said the evil voice of the demon within. Humans kill all the time and their reasons are so petty that to say they are anything but evil is a lie.
When I was a lonely vampire living in my castle on the highlands of Scotland, I used to listen to that demonic voice—my voice—and relish its words. It was the only company I had … and even though it was me, it wasn’t, for so much of what it conjured in my mind were thoughts I would never have.
It was like being schizophrenic or suffering from multiple personality disorder. Two voices, both mine, but one was just a bit more me than the other.
“Shut up,” I said. “I will not kill unless it is to save another life.”
Like your own. You are hungry, are you not? And blood—that is what sustains you. That is what will make you whole, give you life. Without it yo
u will perish, so do as you say. Save a life by taking a life. Save yourself.
“Ahh,” I said frantically, pulling an outfit together. I put on a Mango v-neck sweater, and as I considered my North Face goose-down jacket, my hand stopped. That monstrosity of fabric was something I had needed to stay warm … as a human.
But cold was something that affected my fragile body. I was no longer fragile. I was no longer so susceptible to such weaknesses.
So instead I put on a Barbour Summer Liddesdale quilted jacket, more to complete the outfit than anything, and left my dorm room to battle evil with an evil of my very own.
A Song, a Party and a Bite
Justin came through. More than came through, I thought as I walked into the abandoned theater across from Mama’s Diner. The seats had been stripped from the old cinema, leaving behind a giant cavity where hundreds of people could party.
Abandoned and mostly unused, the old cinema was one of the only large spaces you could book at a moment’s notice. Seemed its owner had tried to sell the monstrosity several times, but this place must have had a curse of its own: no one wanted to buy it. So he took whatever little rental fees he could get when someone wanted to book the place for an event or a party.
And since partying was exactly what we were trying to do, this was perfect.
Justin sensed my approval. “Not bad, eh? See, here’s me being useful to the team.”
“Very,” I said, pulling him down for a kiss. Our lips locked and, forgetting my newly regained old strength, I got a bit too enthusiastic as I pulled him close.
Too enthusiastic—and fangy. My canine teeth popped out, cutting his lip and releasing the sweetest nectar known to mortals and gods alike: blood. Warm, fresh blood from a healthy human.
I think I would have drained him right there if he hadn’t pulled away. He touched his lip. “Oww … I didn’t think we were into that.”
I want to eat you, I thought.
“After,” he said with a wink. Guess I thought that out loud. “First I’ve got some more setting up to do, and you said something about Cassy singing.”
As if the mere mention of her name summoned her, the cinema front doors opened up and Cassy walked in. “Speak of the devil,” Justin said.
“Never speak of the devil,” she said in an ominous tone, “lest he leave his apartment in Paradise Lot and come knocking on your door.”
Justin gulped. “Ahh, so he’s real.”
“Very,” Cassy said. “But from what I hear, his kingdom is a one-bedroom apartment on a wretched island one public funding disaster from becoming a slum.”
“Got it,” he said. They stared at each other awkwardly before Justin jogged over to a folding table near the wall. He pointed at a boombox, lifting a wireless mic. “Kat said something about you needing to sing a song. This was all I could get on such short notice, but maybe—”
“Thank you, but I don’t need such augmentations for my song to be heard.”
“You don’t?” I asked. “More magic?”
“No, just the essence of who I am.” She narrowed her eyes as she looked at me. “Speaking of essence, something is different about you.” She leaned in close to get a better sense of me, and then she did something I didn’t think sirens, muses or humans did. She touched my eye.
It happened so quickly and so unexpectedly that, even as a vampire with supernatural speed and reflexes, I had no time to react.
Instead I recoiled, a hand over the eye she’d touched. “What did you do that for?” I groaned, then muttered to myself, “I hope your hands are clean …”
She ignored me, touching her own eye with the finger that had invaded mine. As soon as her fingertip touched her eye, she looked at me and said, “You are—”
Justin was making his way back to us, so I pulled Cassy into the corner. In a harsh whisper, I said, “I’m fine … I mean, I will be fine as soon as we finish this and your little curse is broken.” Drawing in a deep breath, I added, “Seems your curse doesn’t just make them superheroes. It also does this.” I opened my mouth and pointed to my fangy canines.
Her eyes flicked down to my extra-pointy teeth. “Is that what you were?”
I nodded.
“It makes sense that you would seek old powers to help you this day. Also, the mere fact that my curse has touched you means—”
But before she could say anything, Justin tripped over his own feet and fell with a yelp, drowning out Cassy’s words.
“Tell me,” I said, “stopping this wizard crusader guy … that’s not going to lift the curse, is it?”
She shook her head.
“So there’s a greater danger lurking in the background?”
Cassy didn’t say anything.
“OK,” I said, “I get it. I hate this, mind you, but I get it.”
I had just turned to see if Justin was OK when she grabbed my arm. There were more tears in her eyes. “I am sorry. I was trying to help and in doing so, I caused so much pain. I am sorry for what I did to them. But I am especially sorry for what I have done to you.” She looked down at me with pity in her eyes.
I don’t know if it was my vampiric temperament or if it was just unsettling being looked at by someone such as her, but I didn’t like it. I pulled my arm away. “Don’t worry about it. The curse will be broken and I’ll be me again. Let’s focus on that.”
Cassy drew in a deep breath and nodded. “Yes, what is done is done. Let us focus on what we have control over while we still have that control.”
↔
Cassy wasn’t kidding when she said she had a song. I honestly could not tell you if she sang acapella or if a full orchestra accompanied her, if there were lyrics or just music, or if she even opened her mouth.
All those details were lost in the beauty of music unlike anything I had heard before. Cassy may have been a human, but she was touched by a siren and a muse—two powerful creatures made from beauty itself.
And that touch was a part of Cassy in ways that made me shiver with awe.
As the final note of her song left her lips, she closed her eyes and said, “There. Now they will come. And so will he.”
Prologue
There are so many phonies. So many people who just love hearing the sound of their own voice as they blab their way through life. Good for nothing phonies whose only accomplishment in life will be that they took up way too much space.
But every now and then you meet someone you think is special. Someone who is supposed to break the mold and do something meaningful.
If not meaningful, then at least different.
Or at least try to be different.
But even those guys are phonies. Liars who pretend they care and say they want to make a difference, but when they actually have to do something—anything—they don’t. They claim that they are tired or busy or lie by saying something like: “I tried and it didn’t work out.”
Phonies. I hate them. I hate them all.
But the thing I hate the most about phonies is that, try as you might to get them to see the errors of their ways—their self-deceptions and self-justifications—they don’t.
They just walk through life with blinders on, pretending everything’s peachy. Well, it’s not. It’s so far from being good that it drives me crazy.
They’ll never see reason.
But that’s OK. They will still be useful, for if they can’t see reason, perhaps their lives can serve as an example for others to see reason.
For others to take action.
I just have to get others to see the errors of the phonies’ ways.
But how can I do that?
It won’t be easy, but I know exactly how to cut through the noise and get their attention.
With a bullet and a bang.
A Superhero Ball Whose Guest of Honor is a Villain
As soon as Cassy stopped singing and the awe of her voice wore off enough for us to speak, Justin muttered, “Ahh, that is an … an amazing way to invite people to a party. I
just sent out flyers.”
Cassy chuckled, her white cheeks turning a few shades of rose. “Thank you,” she said with surprisingly sincere humility, given she must have known how incredible she was.
I could have marveled at Cassy all day, but there was still a lot that needed doing. “OK,” I said, shaking my head, “when are your peeps coming?”
I had to nudge Justin with my elbow to get him to respond. “How long, Justin?” I asked again.
“Oh, ahh, let’s see.” He looked at his watch. “The flyer said 7pm. It’s 9pm now, so I’d say any minute.”
“Good. Who’s manning the door?”
“A couple of my buddies from O3.”
“Another good. OK, you two know what you have to do.”
“Yeah, we do,” Justin said, then extending his hand to Cassy, he bowed and said, “Milady.”
Cassy gave him a wry smile before taking his hand and disappearing. I felt a teeny, tiny pang of jealousy (just a pinch, really) and muttered to the air, “Just remember who butters your toast, buddy. Whatever that means.”
Holy guacamole, the Old Librarian in my dream was right: I really wasn’t very witty.
With them gone and presumably in place, I got ready as well. My job was simple enough.
I would be the bait.
↔
I got into position as superheroes of all types started walking in the door. You had your usual variety from the Marvel and D.C. universes: Superman, Batman, Spiderman, Hulk, She-Hulk, Scarlet Witch … and just about any other spandex-clad hero you could name.