by R. M. Webb
“Evenin’ Thomas.” The bouncer spares a smile for Thomas before turning his focus back to the crowd.
“Good evening, Terrence. Everybody here?”
“Where else you think they’re gonna be?” There’s something in the easy way the bouncer answers Thomas that suggests he’s joking, or being sarcastic in the very least. I don’t get it. But what’s new? Seems like the theme of the evening.
Thomas laughs and nods. “So are you going to let us in or does my date have to stand out here freezing to death all night?” Terrence turns to me and it’s like he’s seeing me for the first time. He laughs and unclasps the rope, allowing us access to the front door. I can feel the eyes of all the people shivering in line boring into my back, filled with curiosity.
Speaking of curiosity, mine’s kicked into full gear as the door closes behind us. Despite the music thundering loudly over the speakers, the bass pulsing in my very bones, despite the line wrapping around the inside of the club, there’s no one inside. No. I take that back. There are two people - a man and a woman - tending the bar. And by tending, I mean leaning back against it, lost in conversation. Thomas leads me over.
“Lounging around on the job, eh?” he asks when we arrive at the bar. “Better be careful, William expects more out of his employees.”
“You’re the one showing up late, my friend,” says the man. “I wonder which is worse. Lounging around while there are no customers to serve or making an entire club’s worth of customers grow impatient in the cold?”
Thomas just laughs and shakes his head. “Rachel?” he says, turning to me. “This is Jackson and his wife, Sam.” He catches my eye and nods to the couple who now have full permission to study me. And study me they do. I’m scrutinized from head to toe.
“So this is the girl who’s causing all the commotion.” Jackson’s got a smile on his face and he’s trying so hard to make sure it’s in his voice as well, but I can hear the stress he’s trying to hide.
Sam just smiles a sweet, almost sad smile. “It’s nice to meet you,” she says and for some reason I instantly like her. I return their greeting with a little wave and a tight smile and am led back through the club, through an office, down a hallway, and into a room filled with a table, chairs, and several of the most intense beings I’ve ever laid eyes on. There’s no way these people are human. They ooze power and otherness. Jackson and Sam have followed us and take their seats while Thomas marches me to the end of the table where we stand and wait. I want to crumple under the weight of the gazes that fall upon me.
There’s a female at the head of the table, her skin so pale it glows with a light of its own, her eyes quick and intense. To her right sits a male, his blonde hair hanging in loose curls down to his jaw. To her left sits another male, eyes and hair dark, almost black. All three regard me with an air of detachment, their postures relaxed, nearly languid, yet rife with threat and the possibility of action.
“This is the girl?” The female asks. Her voice is youthful, lilting, reminiscent of bells, but heavy with power and the wisdom of age. Somehow, I know she’s been on the planet a very long time.
“This is Rachel.” Thomas wraps his arm around me, pulling me close.
“I can’t see how she’s worth all this trouble.” This from the dark-eyed male at her left.
“Hush,” says the female and he does. Clearly, she’s in control here. When her eyes settle on mine, I want to shrink into Thomas’s arms. “Are you afraid?” she asks me.
“I’m confused. Unsettled. Worried.” My voice carries clearly across the room, strong and proud. The female pierces me with her gaze and blinks slowly. I feel small and foolish. “Yes,” I admit. “I’m afraid.”
The ancient vampire focuses on Thomas. “How much does she know?”
“Not much.”
“And what are you asking for?”
“Only for her protection.”
“For you, we will protect this girl.” She says this as if something monumental has been decided and then turns to me. “Tonight, stay here. Enjoy yourself if you can, pretend you are if you can’t. You may speak to Jackson and Sam, William,” she points to the man on her right and he nods, a warm smile playing across his face, “and of course, Thomas. Speak to no one else. Understand?” I nod my understanding and she continues. “When morning comes, go home and go about your day as if nothing has changed. You will be watched, protected, even when Thomas can’t be there. Understand?”
I’m not sure I do, but I nod anyway and that seems to end the meeting. We’re ushered back into the club which has filled with people and noise. Thomas deposits me at the bar with Jackson and Sam and I drink more than my share, obliterating my confusion with alcohol. Despite being ‘allowed’ to speak to them, or to the blonde named William, I don’t. I don’t want to know what’s going on. Not now. Not here. Not like this. I dance with Thomas and throw back Long Island Iced Teas, trying to find the courage to have the fun Thomas suggested I’d have here tonight. I’m in the process of studying two paintings hung in a prominent space on the wall - one a bear, the other a dragon - when it hits me. Thomas just bought me protection. But from what? At what cost?
When the sun rises, Thomas drives me home and after a long moment of him studying the courtyard and the area surrounding my apartment, he kisses me and leaves. I stumble through the front door, exhausted, drunk, ready for bed. I’m halfway up the stairs when the door bangs open and Mia blasts through, a ball of golden hair and frantic energy.
“I was so scared!” she screeches as Elijah follows her into my home, uninvited. “I watched that asshole vampire drag you away last night and waited for you to come home and …” She takes in my decidedly bedraggled appearance. “That’s it,” she says. “You’re not safe with him. We’re taking you down to the Citadel. Right now. You’ll be safe. He can’t get you there.”
And then Elijah’s hands are on my arms and I’m kicking and screaming but I’m too drunk to put up much of a fight. He’s pulling me off the stairs and towards the door and Mia’s shrieking reassurances at me. I try to scramble out of Elijah’s grasp, but he picks me up off the floor and carries me outside.
Chapter 15
I shriek like a rabid cat, hands and arms flailing, hoping my nails will find purchase somewhere on Elijah’s skin. He’s strong and he’s got me off of my feet, his hands - his man’s hands! Hands on my body! Leaving trails of grime and filth on my skin! - grip my forearms and wrap them tight against my torso. The unwanted contact has me panicked. I can’t think clearly. All I can do is struggle and scream and hope someone calls the police.
We’re barely out the door when our direction changes, seemingly forcibly so. Mia lets out a frightened little squawk and we’re back in my apartment. I’m pried out of Elijah’s hands and thrust away. I stumble into my living room. The dark haired man has Mia by the shoulders, his eyes holding hers captive. Her face is slack. It’s like looking at a wax statue of my friend.
Thomas has Elijah pressed against the wall, held by the throat. He’s snarling into the man’s face, the man who’s quite clearly not been compelled even a little. His face is ashen, his irises just little dots in his wide eyes.
“The girl’s subdued?” Thomas asks, his face just inches from Elijah’s.
“Very much so.” The dark haired vampire smiles as he speaks and Mia’s face mirrors his, the corners of her lips pulling upwards. It’s gruesome because it’s not her smile. And her eyes are so glassy. Whatever it is that makes her her, it’s nowhere to be seen.
Without taking his attention from Elijah, Thomas addresses the dark haired vampire. “Go check the surrounding apartments. Find anyone who might have seen or heard what just happened, anyone who’s considering calling the police, and take care of it.”
The other vampire gives a curt nod and he’s gone, just a blur of movement indicating that he’d even been there to leave. Mia stayed where he left her, his smile disfiguring her pretty face. I’m trembling, an absolute disaster of nerves
and fear. The fact that I ever, even once in my life considered myself a strong woman is ridiculous. What I’m feeling now is shameful. All I can think of are hands on my body, pulling on the buttons of my jeans, sliding down against my skin…
Thomas interrupts my thoughts. “What happened here?”
Elijah swallows hard. It must be painful, with Thomas’s hand clamped to his throat. I know that feeling, too. “We saw you take her -”
“I’m not talking to you!” roars Thomas. Elijah whimpers and starts to cry. Still holding him to the wall by his throat, Thomas turns to me. “I’m talking to her.” And his voice is beautiful again. “What happened?”
“They followed me in. Saw me leave with you last night and when I didn’t come home they got worried. They were going to take me to the Citadel. To keep me safe.”
Thomas snorts. “Safe. At the Citadel.” He pauses. “Are you hurt?”
I consider for a moment, giving myself a once over. The adrenaline had momentarily sobered me, but that’s fading, and I’m decidedly slow to process. I’m exhausted. Dizzy. Still very much drunk. A headache is growing. I’m confused and unnerved, but my body seems to be in regular working order. “No,” I say. “I’m fine.”
“You are most definitely not fine.” Where else have I heard those words?
“Mmmkay. I’m not fine. But I’m not hurt either.” I’m really feeling drowsy.
Thomas’s whole demeanor softens, as if in apology. “Rachel, sweetie,” he waits for me to focus on him. “I’m going to have to alter their memories. I can alter a lot. If you want. Take away their fear, their fixation on the Citadel…”
Is that the right thing to do? Just have him go in there and remove Mia’s terror? She’d be better off, not being afraid to live in a world she shares with creatures that walk amongst her nightmares. She’d be sweet, golden Mia. Happy and hopeful. I wouldn’t have to worry about her walking herself into the Citadel and inviting whatever trouble is housed there. She could love Elijah and he could love her and she could have her happily ever after with the white picket fence, the kids and the dog.
But when I look at her face, still holding onto the dark-haired vampire’s smile, her eyes slack and empty, missing all the things that make her who she is I know my answer. “Don’t change them. Take away this memory, last night’s, too if you think you have to, but please, keep the rest of who they are the same.”
Thomas grits his teeth unhappily, but he does what I ask, telling them all about the date they had last night that turned into breakfast downtown. He tells them to go to Mia’s, to sit on the couch and forget everything that happened at my apartment. By the time they’ve crossed the courtyard, walking in some horrific parody of a marionette, legs and arms all out of sync, I’m practically swooning from fatigue. My eyes are closing and the room is spinning and all those Long Islands are dancing unhappily in my stomach.
“I’ma need … go to bed,” I slur and before I know it, Thomas has me in his arms and has carried me upstairs to my bedroom. I’m under the covers and ever so drowsy. I hiccup and smile. “You know,” I manage as the world swims around me, sleep pulling heavily at my thoughts. “You should just make me a vampire and I’ll be safe. And it’ll be me and you for the rest of forever.”
Some part of me realizes I shouldn’t have said that out loud. That was my private thought. One for me. Because he wasn’t ready to hear it, right? Wasn’t that how it went? The other part of me watches Thomas’s face blanch, all emotion dripping right off the page as if he were a watercolor painting in the rain. And then I succumb to exhaustion and fall asleep.
I wake to the scent of bacon and eggs and coffee so strong even the smell is bitter. It must be Thomas, downstairs, cooking me breakfast just like he did before he got that text on the street and everything went sideways. Eager to run downstairs and join him in the kitchen, to tell him how much I’ve missed cooking with him, I lurch out of bed. I take just a few steps towards the door, but my stomach and the hundred or so Long Island Iced Tea’s I had last night have a very different idea as to how this morning should go. I divert myself to the bathroom and fall to my knees just in time to heave the entire contents of my stomach into the toilet in one big sloshing mess.
It’s strange that Thomas doesn’t come up to check on me, but maybe breakfast has his hands too busy. I wash my hands and face, rinse my mouth and then brush my teeth just to be on the safe side. My hair’s a disaster, so I just pull it back into a messy bun and lumber down the stairs.
“Believe me,” I say as I round the corner. “I want to run into your waiting arms, but this is the quickest pace I can -” I shut up and stop walking when I see who’s waiting for me in the kitchen. It’s definitely not Thomas.
“Oh,” I say to the dark haired vampire. “It’s you.”
He spreads his hands wide and smiles down at himself. “In the flesh.”
“I was expecting Thomas.”
“I see that.” He turns his back to me and reaches into my cabinet for a plate and begins dishing out my meal. “Thomas had to … go. And if it sounds like I’m being vague it’s because I am. He told me to tell you to eat, even if you don’t feel like it and that he had some thinking to do.” The vampire plonks a very spartan plate of bacon and eggs down on the table and pulls out a chair. “Whatever did you say to him? He was more out of sorts than usual.”
I think hard, taxing my pounding brain in an attempt to remember what happened after I got home. I remember Elijah carrying me out of my apartment. I remember asking Thomas not to alter their memories. I remember the room spinning, and then it’s just me waking up this morning. I shrug, worry straining my face. “I don’t know. Did he say anything?”
“Nothing more than what I’ve told you. Now, eat.”
My stomach, which was only going to mildly tolerate the food in the first place is now all constricted with worry over what I might have said and is very much not interested in eggs and bacon. Nevertheless, I dutifully spear a bit of the egg with my fork and put it in my mouth. I study the vampire’s dark features, his aquiline nose, his hair that’s was so black it somehow seemed to devour light, not even bothering to shine. His words twist and lilt, some accent I can’t quite place.
“What’s your name?” I ask after too much extended silence.
“The sounds and syllables of my name are more complicated than your tongue can handle. Most people call me the Babylonian.” And with that, he turns from me and watches a trail of snowflakes start to fall outside my window. What must it be to live in a world where no one remembers how to say your name? Are there others like him, others who think in a language lost to the world?
Despite my lurching stomach, I manage to finish the greasy breakfast and down a cup of coffee. I feel much better because of it. I’m cleaning up the considerable mess the Babylonian left in my kitchen when he pokes his head around the corner.
“Thomas just texted me. He says that he’ll be here later tonight to discuss your proposal from this morning.”
My proposal? What in God’s name did I say to him? “Did he mention anything at all about what it was?”
“Again, I’ve told you exactly what he’s told me. No more. No less.” He blinks slowly, looking very much like a cat. “I’m bored. I’ll be outside, keeping watch as instructed. Fear not, child. You are safe.” There’s something hard and ugly in his words, but I can’t figure out what or why. And right now, I honestly could care less. I don’t have time to decipher what’s wrong with a centuries-year-old vampire with a serious chip on his shoulder. I need to figure out just exactly what I said to Thomas that has him so out of sorts he had to leave to think about it.
The pounding in my head has lessened, so I pour myself another cup of coffee and force myself to think through the Long Island induced haze from this morning. I remember Mia and Elijah and their creepy journey across the courtyard. I remember … I focus hard, my eyebrows clenched together, chasing down the memory. And then I find it. And my heart stops and then
hops around in my chest double time for a moment. I asked Thomas to turn me into a vampire last night. He can’t even bring himself to share blood with me, and I asked him to turn me completely.
My stomach’s heaving again and I want to throw up. What have I done? How could I have said it out loud? What’s he gonna say? What’s he gonna do?
I stand, unable to sit still, ready to run upstairs just for the sake of moving but two precise knocks on the door stop me in my tracks.
Chapter 16
When I open the door, Thomas brushes past me only to turn around halfway to the couch and close the distance between us as I close the door. I want him to touch me, but he doesn’t.
“Did you mean it?” He’s moving again, leaving my side and striding over to the window near the table.
What can I tell him? Of course I meant it. The idea of being a vampire is thrilling. The idea of spending an eternity at his side? Well, that totally makes forever worth it. If being with Thomas is like this, then this is all I ever want. But how do I tell him that without setting off whatever emotional landmine I seem to have triggered? Do I avoid the topic completely?
“I was very drunk …”
He spins, not in the market for stalling and excuses. “But did you mean it?” The intensity in his voice has an odd effect on me. It doesn’t stress me out. It doesn’t make my decision regarding what to tell him any more confusing. I hear his need to know the truth and in that moment the most logical answer is to satisfy that need.
“Yes.” I don’t move even though I want to cross the room and fly into his arms. “I meant it.”
The look that clouds his face borders on desperation. “Why? How can you want this?”
I’m not sure if he wants to know how I could want him or how I could want his life. “When you say ‘this’ what exactly do you mean? There are two ways to answer that question. Which one do you want?”