by Safari Spell
21
Following Sage through the dark hall backstage, my heart was racing just trying to keep up with the questions in my mind. What kind of mind control did they have? Why was I not affected by the music like everyone else? My thoughts kept returning to the holographic stamp on my wrist. It was weird, and it made Sage act weird. I couldn’t dwell on it long because we soon came to a spray-painted black door that separated us from the band. Even in the black lights, I could see all kinds of bumper stickers littering it; some were less than PG.
The door separated my old life from this exciting new one, and while I didn’t know whether the band mates were as safe and likeable as Sage, I wasn’t going to let fear keep me from finding out. Oddly enough, Sage could sense my faltering faith. He paused, squeezed my hand, and turned the knob. The door opened and soon the sounds that were muffled behind it surrounded me at full volume. I stood in the open doorway slightly behind Sage.
“Hey, this is Talor,” Sage said, stepping to the side so they could see me.
I felt naked without him sheltering me from their gazes. They had been horsing around back there, laughing and talking, but they went quiet as they saw me. Somewhere, a cricket chirped loudly as we all had our first good look at one another. All but one had dark hair. They looked like typical band guys: slender, torn jeans, flannel shirts, tattoos. They shared no similarities except height and intimidation factor. I put on my bravest face.
“Hi,” I said, my voice seeming small and mousy.
The lead guitarist came over first. He had shoulder-length black hair tamed back with a bandana. His eyes were so dark it was hard to make out the pupil. They seemed dilated until he blinked. Then they were green. He had a kindness about him that seemed like a constant smile under his olive skin. That smile was also hidden somewhere in his face, as if at any moment it would come out. He stopped a polite distance from me and stuck out his hand.
“Talor, I’m Tomahawk. Don’t worry. We won’t bite,” he stopped, and then slapped his hand against his forehead. “Oh wait.”
I forced a smile. A bad joke on my account? Now I was indebted to shake his hand. His fingernails were tough and long – like fake nails you’d see in a costume shop at Halloween. They were painted black, too, so it was hard not to stare. I was honestly jealous he could get such strong, long nails like that and keep them. I would have asked his secret if I didn’t already know it. Even after the warm welcome, I didn’t want to know how a vampire could get a nickname like Tomahawk.
“Do you go by Tom…ahawk?”
He shrugged.
“You can call me Tom.”
He waved the rest of the guys over since I wouldn’t move from the spot I deemed safe. Sage rested his hand softly on my lower back and urged me forward, providing enough comfort for me to take a step inside the door so he could close it. A new guy was in front of me when I looked up. He was regarding me with much more energy than Tom.
“Hello there, little lady,” he replied, touching his forehead like it was a cowboy hat.
“Oh yeah, meet Mika,” Sage said. “The one kind of all in your face right now.”
Mika was the least imposing stature of them all, and his eyes were wider than everyone else’s. Judging by the two or three shades of lipstick smeared on his neck and cheek, he must’ve spent centuries perfecting the charming playboy persona. He had been mauled by a harem of groupies before they made it backstage. Looking at him, I could see how they could be drawn to his warm smile and wavy hair.
He reached over the table beside me and grabbed a Monster energy drink from the cooler. It was odd that there were drinks on ice and a platter of snacks on the table when I was the only one in the room who ate. I started wondering where the warm blood was kept, and then I remembered that venues wouldn’t actually know a vampire band was playing. They also wouldn’t believe vampires existed.
“Do you want a Monster? Other than Sage, I mean,” Mika asked, raising a brow as he held up the drink to me.
His misplaced enthusiasm and great sense of humor were oddly comforting. I nodded and he dropped it into my hand. I wasn’t thirsty, but taking a drink called Monster from a chipper vampire with a joke attached was a bucket list imperative. It would be one of my greatest regrets at the end of my life if I passed that up. Mika moved back and settled on the arm of a couch. There was only one band mate left to meet, and he wasn’t nearly as forthcoming as the others. Sage pointed to the drummer, who seemed to have only one piercing eye – a bright blue. The assumable other eye was covered by long bangs.
“You should’ve talked to us first,” the drummer said, extending a hand towards Mika, who gave him a cigarette.
I actually felt the harsh glare from him, noting how impressive it was to feel so threatened by only one eye. Sage was unaffected.
“We did talk. Talor, that’s Ash.”
Ash made it easy to believe everything Sage said in the diner. He looked less like a human and more like a creature in a man-suit. He had the icy energy of a dancing cobra. He seemed to toe the human line only as long as it suited him, but it was never known when he would strike.
He seemed like he’d be cool to the touch, and I had no interest in shaking his hand. Luckily, he shared the feeling. He slackened his frame against the wall, flicking the end of the unlit cigarette with his finger like it was a bug. It immediately burned bright as he drew a long breath on it, the frail ashes falling fast to the ground. I watched in awe, only tearing my gaze away once he looked up.
“Anyway, hey,” he muttered, crossing an arm over his chest.
I said the same, still a little insecure to look at him for long. Having done their polite duty to Sage, they all relaxed about the room in various places; Mika perched on the arm of the couch playing on his phone, Tom lazily stretched across another one, and Ash kept to the far wall, still giving Sage a warning glare that would have run me out of the room. Sage brought me further inside so we could sit down on a large loveseat. Mika pushed another cigarette between his lips and offered me one. I shook my head.
“Don’t smoke, huh?” he asked, humored.
“No, it’s kind of bad for you. You know, it kills you and all,” I replied, feeling weird having to explain not being a smoker. I noticed they all smoked at some point and I hoped Sage didn’t. I couldn’t imagine Sage being a smoker, but I never imagined him being a vampire, either.
“Oh yeah. That mortal thing,” Mika said, chuckling.
I hoped he wouldn’t light it up after I said that. I hated the smell of cigarette smoke. It was a major pet peeve. He pulled it from his lips and slipped it behind his ear, smiling at me. I smiled back.
“So what does she know?” Ash asked from the other side of the room, drawing us into conversation. Everyone got quiet as they focused on Sage. I looked at him, too, not sure how I was supposed to know or not know. He made a motion for me to go ahead and speak, so I cleared my throat.
“Just that you actually exist.”
Silence.
“How do you feel about fallen angels, Talor?” Tom asked.
I placed my hands on my thighs and sat forward.
“Um, I don’t know. I’ve never met any.”
“Are you sure?” Ash asked, moving from the wall towards us.
“Well, I think I’d notice wings,” I said, unsure why it was a touchy subject.
Mika stuck his tongue in his cheek.
“Wings? Really?”
“Anyway, if you haven’t seen one, that’s good. We can blend in, but they really can’t,” Tom said.
I began to wonder about anytime I had actually been in a crowd and if there had been an angel in it. What would an angel look like? I shook my head; perplexed. I hadn’t seen one. I didn’t know why they were asking me about angels when we were talking about vampires.
“What do fallen angels have to do with any of this?” I asked, half serious, half joking.
“Only everything,” Ash grumbled.
“As in?”
Mika did a little dance step and waved his arms around while he hushed everyone else like he was an outfield baseball player trying to catch a fly ball.
“I got it, I got it! First, here’s how it works, little lady. You ready? One of us gets hungry, finds a person who looks a bit tasty, seals them with what’s called a cicatrix – got it? It’s like dopamine, oxytocin, all those feel goods rolled together every time you think about us. Following?”
“Um, ok, emotional steroids…yes?”
“So, our signature’s on you. Then we feed off each other. You get some, we get some. I do mean that literally, too.”
“Ugh, stop,” I groaned.
Mika slapped a hand to his chest and gasped. It made me laugh. Sage threw a stray energy bar that had been lying on the couch at him. Mika caught it and cheered for himself before finally sitting down again. After a playful punch or two in the arm from Tom, Sage looked at me.
“Anyway, Talor, there’s a side effect to the cicatrix. We were never meant to mingle blood, so our blood diseases yours…right down to the soul. There aren’t any symptoms until a human is abandoned. The disease isn’t physical, but that’s how it manifests. Addiction, Alzheimer’s, mental illness, cancer –”
“Wait, wait…cancer?”
“Yeah.”
I stared at him as I started to piece together a dirty secret in my mind. Someone had been messing with my parents, and I wanted to know who the bastard was. I made a mental note to hold onto that thought and ask Sage when we were alone.
“So you heal that?”
“Yes.”
How many people died of diseases that weren’t actually physical? Was he saying humans were meant to live forever and vampires were only allowed in the world because they make us mortal? Why would a good God do that? I felt for the cross around my neck, wondering if the God I’d known all my life was any good at all. It felt like my brain was expanding at a rapid rate, and the only thing that slowed it was the face of my dad. When he popped in my mind, Rose followed, and then – finally – mom. I took in a deep breath, my lips trembling as I spoke.
“God won’t even heal cancer.”
“Well, he can, and I –”
“Where were you a year ago?”
I tried not to sound angry. Sage hadn’t known me when mom died. But he could have saved her. Our eyes locked, unmoving, unbroken. He reached a hand out to cup the side of my face.
“I’m so sorry. I would have saved your mom if I had been here,” he said, tears forming in his own eyes.
I could only nod in return, battling my own tears back. We were suspended in that moment. It was sad, but it was nice to feel understood. Tom cleared his throat politely.
“The point is, if we don’t go around doing what we do, the Grigori gain power. All the shootings, bombings, and general chaos you see in the news? That’s what happens when the balance is off. What Sage does – what we amplify – breaks that stronghold, so they hunt sirens.”
“Grigori…where have I heard that word before?” I murmured, wiping my eyes.
I tapped my finger against my teeth while I thought. It suddenly came to me from a religious studies class lecture I heard once. I stretched an arm against Sage and gulped, nearly choking as I tried to get the question out.
“Oh – my – God! Are you – no! You can’t be! Are you those angels – the ones that caused the flood? Is that why you asked about fallen angels?”
Ash, Tom and Mika all looked at Sage. They each gave their permission in some gesture. Sage held my hand for the next part. I guess he wanted to make sure I felt safe with the information I was about to get.
“Those are our fathers,” he replied.
“Your fathers? So you are –”
“Nephilim,” we said together.
I stared at the floor. It was incredible to imagine sitting in the presence of creatures I’d only ever read about in a book – a book whose authenticity most scholars question. I didn’t remember everything about the story, but I knew the Nephilim were violent creatures that nearly wiped out mankind. They were much worse than the fallen angels that fathered them, and I was sitting in a room with four of them. My anxiety must have shown because Sage made it a point to stroke my hand as if I were some pet he was putting to sleep on a vet table.
“Hey, we aren’t like the ones you read about,” he said sweetly, ushering for Tom to grab a bottled water.
Tom opened it for me and I took it without looking, gulping. For some reason, a fallen angel cursed into a vampire wasn’t nearly as hard to grasp as sexualized zombies slinking around in shadows seducing and biting people when they’re hungry. When I finally found my voice, I think I sounded calmer than anybody expected.
“But you look so normal.”
He raised a brow.
“Ok. We can stay in this form if we want because our mothers were human. And because our fathers are what they are…well, I think the easiest way to explain it is that a human like you can’t manifest your soul in the flesh, but we can.”
“Why? How?”
“Our blood.”
I let that simmer a good minute.
“So, hold on – are you saying you’re like some sort of spirit animal?” I asked, trying not to smile as I said it.
That seemed to hit the funny bone on Tom and Mika, who had to bury their faces in the crooks of their elbows while their shoulders jumped. Even Sage smiled a bit. I wasn’t offended. It was kind of funny imagining them all running around as super-powered house pets.
“Um, kind of? Maybe not in the sense that you think, but yeah, something like it. Whatever creature we are, it’s the closest thing in nature to our truest self.”
“Well, what are you? What does it look like when you become it?” I asked, looking around to each of them.
“We’re all different. We’ll show you ours if you show us yours,” Mika said with a wink.
I blushed.
“I’m pretty sure I can’t do anything you can do.”
“We don’t evo around cities. And it’s too risky with all the Henches running around in a place this saturated,” Sage said.
Mika sighed and dropped his shoulders dramatically. I exhaled, releasing the tension from expecting a bunch of mythological beasts to start raging through the room.
“Henches? Evo? Huh?”
Ash spoke up.
“Henches are the bad guys. That’s all you need to know.”
“Ok then.”
Sage nodded.
“Yeah. Anyway, is it making sense?”
It all rolled around in my mind, the pieces of the puzzle starting to fit. Vampires aren’t dead, they’re just fallen angels. That’s why Sage isn’t cold to the touch. Supernatural creatures were created from angels mixing with mortals. It all actually made sense. I seriously thought to ask about the unicorns again.
Instead, I sat up straight in the loveseat, showing I was both willing and able to follow him down the crazy rabbit hole of supernatural family trees. But the unicorn question needed to be answered at some point. I kept trying to think of a roundabout to ask. I looked at each of them, scratching my head. It was the first moment since Sage had shown me his fangs that I really thought I was the butt of some elaborate joke. I rolled my eyes.
“I don’t know. If vampires are going around biting people, how does no one ever catch it on camera? You’re talking about at least hundreds – if not thousands here, right? How do you avoid being caught?”
Sage sighed like he’d been expecting me to question the authenticity of a clinically insane fantasy. His eyes held their fervor, and the steadiness of them sent all my self-assured confidence to the floor with a thud.
“Remember what I told you about influence?”
“Yeah, but I thought you said you don’t do that. Can’t was your exact word.”
“He doesn’t,” Ash replied.
“Does that mean you do?”
“Well, since you…do you…go to blood banks, that kind of thing?”
Just then, the same guy who came out front to get me after the show came in the back door. He jammed his fists down into his pockets and fell back against the wall. He giggled oddly, as if he was laughing at a joke only he heard. He brought a cigarette to his lips and took a long drag on it. On his neck, there were bites marks. Fresh. Ash’s lip curled as he cut his eyes at me.
“Yeah, that kind of thing.”
I swallowed hard and choked on the cold, hard truth. I knew I was standing in the middle of something bigger than a crush. Supernatural creatures did exist and thank God – there were a few actually on our side. Still, the shifting eyes of the others told me there was much more to Dead Reckless than playing shows to heal humans of supernatural marks. I gave a false smile in spite of myself. I wanted to seem calm and seamless to the fantastic creatures around me. I must’ve looked faint, because Sage touched his hand to my forehead. It was warm. That helped.
“Not going to pass out on me, are you?”
“No, no. But I’m just confused. If it’s so dangerous to heal people of these cat – what did you call them?”
“A cicatrix,” Sage answered.
“Yes, that. If the Grigori are hunting you because you’re doing that, then why do it?”
Tom sat down on the armrest across from me.
“Do you need a reason to do the right thing when you know it’s the right thing?”
“No,” I replied.
“It’s the same with us. We broke from our fathers because they believe mankind is food. They call us the Dissent or Prodigals. There isn’t always a siren in the world to rally behind, but the Dissent has always existed. We get stronger and have real, well, for lack of a better word, influence when there’s a siren.
The Loyalists – we call them Henches – kill men senselessly and brutally. We don’t kill anyone. We only feed from the willing and we never seal them. But that’s not the only reason we do this. Our mothers were human, just like you.”